angelic

18 his little doll <3

[cherrycolaheartss]

A helping hand

˚₊۶ৎ˙⋆ mdni 18+ ˚₊۶ৎ˙⋆

pairing: Dr!Gregory House x f!reader (patient)

contents / warnings: cheating (but the guy sucks so it's not that bad), smut (fingering, oral (m!recieving)), teasing, nicknames

word count: 1.5k

a/n: call me mrs house cuz he lives inside me

You lay next to your boyfriend, looking at the ceiling, disappointed once again. He was asleep next to you, exhausted after 10 minutes of mediocre sex.

You nudge him in an attempt to wake him up, and he rolls over to look at you.

"Babe, can we go again? I didn't cum." You pout at him.

He groans and rubs his eyes. "Huh?"

You sigh and sit up against the headboard. "I don't know, maybe it's an issue on my end, but I didn't."

"All my past girlfriends were quicker, I think you should get that checked. Maybe it's like an orgasm disorder or something."

"I think we should just try again, maybe change something about the foreplay–"

He grunts before rolling back over to his side. "It's definitely not me, just go to the doctor, baby."

Dr!Gregory House walks up to the receptionist of the clinic. "4:23PM, Doctor House checks in, write that down." He looks around the waiting room, brows furrowed in annoyance. It's filled with crying babies, people with weird rashes, loud coughs, and other strange issues. But then he notices you.

You look nervous, eyes scanning the other patients. There is a stack of magazines on a stool next to you, but you don't seem to notice them. You're bouncing your leg, an anxious tic, with the other crossed over it.

He walks over to you, the annoyance still clear on his face, but it's combined with something else now. Maybe interest?

"See me in exam room one." His tone is stern, and he immediately walks away. You hurry to catch up with him, which you do quite quickly, and you sit down on the table in the middle of the room.

He leans against a cabinet, and immediately trains his eyes on you.

"What's your issue?" His tone is almost sarcastic.

You stay quiet for a moment, gaze focused on the floor.

"It's clearly not any of the usual problems. There's nothing disgusting coming out of you, and you don't look like you're in pain." When you look up at him, but continue to say nothing, he adds "So what are you, mute?"

You give him an irritated look.

"No."

"Oh, she speaks!" His sarcasm is clear now. You wonder how he still has his job.

"I haven't been having... orgasms." It comes out as a whisper, almost.

"Find a boyfriend, case solved." He turns to walk away, but you speak up.

"I do– I mean, I have one. That's the issue." He stops to look back at you.

"And you're sure it's not his fault?"

"When I asked him about it, he said none of his exes had that kind of issue."

He looks puzzled for a moment, and you're expecting another mean comment. Instead, he says "It could be anorgasmia. We'll run some tests. How scared are you of needles?"

You confirm you aren't, and he wraps an elastic band around your arm. Now that he's so close, you notice the color of his eyes, how the muscles of his jaw tense in concentration, and you realize you find him almost... attractive?

He puts a bandaid around your arm and takes a step back.

"Right, that's it. We'll have the results on Wednesday, you can come in then. Let me know if anything changes." With that, he's gone, and your heart rate is up by just a bit.

Dr!Gregory House walks into the exam room. You'd been waiting for about 10 minutes when you heard the door open. He throws a stack of papers onto a nearby desk.

"Your boyfriend is a piece of shit." He sighs and looks at you.

"What do you mean?" You tilt your head in confusion. "Don't talk about him like that."

"You don't have anorgasmia. In fact, you're perfectly healthy. He, however, is selfish and rude."

"Are you sure? It could be something else–"

He walks over to the table you're sitting on, and looks down at you. Your lips are slightly parted, and your skirt had ridden up your thighs when you were trying to hop onto the table earlier.

"Open your legs."

"What?! No. You're insane, and I have a boyfriend."

"Fine, let him keep leaving you desperate while you do everything for him. Good day." He begins walking away, but you grab his sleeve and turn him back around. It was an impulsive decision, and you kind of regret it now, but it's too late to back out of it, right?

"Fine." You slightly part your legs, and he doesn't waste any time pulling your panties to the side. "And I'm not desperate." Your last word is cut off by a loud moan.

"Yeah, I can see that." He rubs circles on your clit and you can't stop the whines you let out. Finally, he slips two fingers inside you and you feel like you're going to explode.

Pleads and curses fall from your lips as he continues to finger you before you finally have your first orgasm in months.

Your legs shake and your cunt tightens around his fingers. Maybe he was right about you being desperate.

"See? He was the problem." He says as you catch your breath.

"Thank you." You breathe out. He smiles in response, just barely. It looks like he hasn't done it in years.

"There's many ways to show gratitude." He groans out, and you notice the bulge in his pants.

"Oh, I'm so sorry–" You get off the table and take a step closer to him.

"Don't worry, I was joking. You're free to go." His voice comes out strained.

"No, please, I want to." You look up at him and he sighs.

He doesn't have to say another word, you're already on your knees pulling down the zipper of his pants. You stroke his cock through his boxers, and his hips twitch in response.

"Who's desperate now, hm?" You tease, but your laughter is short-lived because he takes his cock out of his underwear and pushes it right past your parted lips.

"Still you, love." He holds your hair back, holding it tightly, and he pushes your head down, his tip touching the back of your throat. He quickly finds a rythm that allows you to catch your breath between thrusts. Your mouth finally accomodates to his size and you put your tongue in action, licking the base of his cock.

He moans loudly, and it encourages you to keep going. The sound of his voice sends shivers down your spine and turns you on all over again.

The pleasant sounds of his groans are suddenly cut off by an unpleasant ringtone which you recognize as yours.

Dr!Gregory House picks up your phone, looks at it for a moment, and averts his gaze back to you.

"Oliver. That's your boyfriend, I assume?" You look up through teary eyes, and his cock leaves your mouth with a pop.

"Yeah." Feelings of guilt and anxiety build in your gut.

"Answer him then." It's not a question. It's not even a request.

"Wait, I can't–"

"Sure you can. Explain that you're leaving him for someone who actually makes you cum. Oh, and make sure you're still sucking me off when you talk to him."

"How am I supposed to do that?" You're cut off once again by the way he pulls your hair, and that's when the phone stops ringing.

"Baby, where are you? I'm getting worried." Your boyfriend's voice is full of concern, but you don't really have it in you to care anymore.

"I'm, uhh, just at the clinic." Your words come out muffled, and it doesn't take long for Oliver to catch on.

"What the fuck!? You're fucking him now? You fucking slut–"

Dr!Gregory House whose moans had previously served as background noise to the phone call, cuts him off before he can keep insulting you.

"I think you have an orgasm-faking ex to get back to. Have a good day, sir." With that, he ends the call.

It doesn't take long before he cums, hard. His moans get louder, and his grip on your hair tightens. The cold-hearted doctor is completely losing his composure, and it's encouragment enough for you to keep going.

"Yes, baby, fuck, just like that–" And he's done. His hips twitch once again as he releases in your mouth.

You swallow and lick your lips before standing up again.

"Fuck, if you keep looking at me like that we'll stay in here all night." You smile in response, seemingly innocent, and he adds "The cleaning staff will hear us. Go home."

Dr!Gregory House zips his pants back up as you collect your things. He looks at you, gaze fixed on your ass when you bend over to look for your purse.

"Maybe you should visit for another check-up next week, anorgasmia can be deadly."

You chuckle and hand him a card with your name and number handwritten in a curly font.

"I'll make sure I do that. Thank you, Doctor."

You wink before leaving the room, and you swear he groans quietly as he watches you leave.

@cinnamongrl2006 my beautiful irl bestie who helped me write this ily lets have a threesome with house <3

[motelbabyydoll]

Bruce beach day fic?( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

cw: (legal) big age gap, dd/lg, fluff, established relationship a/n: This is me explicitly coming out as a dd/lg enjoyer 🥀 I hope u guys don't think I'm a disgusting freak. AAAANYWAYSSS HAPPY BATMAN DAY BABIES!!! I totally wanted to post this in the summer, but life got in the way. Hopefully it's not too late.

“Look, Bruce, I’m a mermaid!” you shouted, sprinting out of the sea. Water ran down your skin, hair plastered to your shoulders. He couldn’t help but notice the way the sun kissed your body—after days honeymooning on a paradisiac beach, spending every second outside, you had tanned in the most beautiful way. He couldn’t help but notice, either, how the fabric of your tiny bikini clung to your damp skin.

Bruce lounged on his towel, sunglasses perched low on the bridge of his nose. His gaze lingered a moment longer than usual as you jogged up to him, hips swaying enticingly, and your laugh rang across the quiet beach. A faint smile curved his lips, his expression softer than usual, more relaxed.

“You’re a siren, alright…” he said, voice low, teasing, as he sat up slowly. He tilted his head to watch you, noticing the way your shoulders shone with droplets of water in the sun, and how your smile reached your eyes. He couldn't help but mirror your expression, his heart always skipped a beat when he saw his little girl happy.

You skidded to a stop in the sand, laughing, and plopped down on your towel, beside him. “Yeah, caught your attention, didn’t I?” you said, nudging his shoulder playfully.

He slipped off his sunglasses, setting them aside so you could see his eyes. They softened when they found yours. His hand reached out, steady, brushing your damp hair back where it stuck to your cheek. “You always do. You’re my girl.”

You grinned, heart fluttering, and pressed your cheek to his hand. Bruce’s arm wrapped around you instantly, tugging you against his side. You giggled, hiding your face in the juncture of his neck and shoulder to mask the heat that rose to your cheeks.

He tilted his head, pressing a kiss on your damp hairline. “My good girl, my wife.” he spoke, softer this time, just for you.

The word wife still felt new on your skin, strange, like clothes that were a size too big, or jeans that were too stiff, it was not uncomfortable but it weighed something in you down. It made your heart skip, every single time he said it.

Bruce’s fingers traced the thin straps of your bikini top, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring the feel of you. His eyes caught yours, warm and steady, with that quiet intensity that always made your heart flutter.

“Have I told you you look beautiful today?” he said softly, thumb brushing against your collarbone, lips grazing your ear. “I don’t think we'll make it to our dinner reservation tonight.” His voice was low, a little teasing but full of something deeper.

You pouted, turning away from him. You had been nagging him about this restaurant for weeks, and now, just because he saw you in a swimsuit, just because salt and sand stuck to your skin, he wanted to skip it? That was so unfair.

"But daddy, I had a whole outfit picked out, and I spent the entire day tanning to look good in pictures." You whined.

He chuckled dryly, his hands rubbing your hips as he apologized. "Fine, sorry, no skipping the reservation. I've got time to enjoy my girl until then, huh?"

"Your girl...You're lucky I love you, Brucie."

You smiled at him again and Bruce could swear your smile lit up the world, he was a man of fragile faith but he believed you were an angel, so beautiful and doting, so sweet for him. Your bright eyes drifted to the ring on your hand, focused on the glittering diamonds, on the band around your finger, on what it meant.

"I have been nothing but lucky since the day I met you." His voice was sweet, almost saccharine and when you looked up to meet his gaze you found him staring at your ring too.

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taglist: @laceyfaeryy @cherrycolaheartss @resting-confused-face

[cherrycolaheartss]

bestie posted!!

[motelbabyydoll]

aftercare with bruce😻

a/n: I'm finally back and getting to my inbox, I missed you all so much! SOSOSO SORRY FOR MY ABSENCE and thank you so muchhh for 800 followers wowzas that is a shit ton of people! cw: established relationship, age gap, mentions of sex, fluff

⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ mdni (18+)˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆

There's a couple ways this can go:

The first one is after lazy morning sex, on a Sunday morning, the sunlight filtered in through the windows as you caught your breath, panting against Bruce's bare chest. You were still dazed from the sex, cheeks flushed and hair messy, so you failed to notice him untangling from your grasp and getting up, you only realized when the cold morning air hit your body.

"Brucie?" You croaked, stretching on the bed, sleep still clinging to your limbs like plastic wrap.

"I'll be right back. Just going to get water and something to clean you up with. Need anything?" He turned around to face you, his hair was messy and damp with sweat and his eyes softened in the sunlight when he looked at you.

"Just water. And a kiss, maybe."

"As many kisses as you wish, darling." He winked at you and left the room. His sweatpants were low on his hips, exposing his toned back, littered with scars and bruises, moles and freckles. After years of being together you still found yourself blushing and giggling like a schoolgirl at every little thing he did, it was like you were completely dazed.

In that short period of time when he left the room that you basked it all in, the sunlight, the love, the trust. It was comforting, lulling you to sleep.

A steady hand on your shoulder and a whisper of your name woke you up. A kiss on your forehead and a glass of water in your hand. Bruce dipped between your sensitive thighs and wiped the mess with a warm cloth, the friction made you shiver. When he was done he kissed his way up your body and laid beside you, waiting for you to curl up against him.

You laid together in silence that was only broken by the birds chirping outside your window and the faint but constant noise of cars driving by. The steady rise and fall of his chest when he breathed made you fall asleep, and this time he didn't wake you, he brushed the hair out of your face and kissed your forehead.

The second one is after patrol, heart thumping in his chest and adrenaline cursing through his veins. In those times, he wasn't your sweet but commanding Brucie— he was still batman when he fucked you hard and fast into the mattress, pulling you every which way he needed, gripping you hard enough to bruise, pulling and slapping hard enough for tears to fill your eyes and your stomach to coil in the sweetest way.

He was quiet as he caught his breath, languid and slow when he pulled out of you, kissed your lips and cheeks and pulled you against him.

He grabbed your face softly, his icy blue eyes scanning your face for any sense of discomfort but he didn't find any, all he found was your sweet smile and tired eyes, he found love in your gaze and that scared him because he could have hurt you, and you had liked it.

"What?" You whispered, not daring to raise your voice, as if the volume would scare him away.

He didn't reply, he shrugged and kissed you again. He wanted to say things, that he was sorry, that he loved you; he wanted to thank you for putting up with him, with batman, but the words caught in his throat and all he did was grunt softly and murmur 'good night' before burrowing close to you like a cat.

Neither of you got up, neither of you cleaned up, you both fell asleep in the damp bedsheets, pressed against each other. His skin was warm, hot like a furnace, and you practically purred when he hugged you closer. You'd shower in the morning, as he whispered apologies and pressed soft kisses on your bruised skin.

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taglist:@resting-confused-face @laceyfaeryy @cherrycolaheartss

[cherrycolaheartss]

my bestie ate again!

[motelbabyydoll]

haii i was wondering if you could do husband!simon taking care of reader when they’re not feeling good? i get chronic stomachaches i’ve had them since i was like 9 and i just need a big scary man to take care of me when im feeling sick </3

a/n: May this love FUCK ME or whatever the girls on tiktok say. Also, sorry for taking so long to write requests, I swear I love them because they help so much when I have no inspiration. Really short, sorry about that!! But I hope it lives up to ur expectations anon! cw: fluff, fem reader

When Simon walked in through the front door, he was surprised that you didn't throw yourself into his arms the second he unlocked it.You had developed a ritual: when the door opened, before he had time to take you in, look you in the eyes, or kiss your lips, you would almost launch yourself at him. He'd catch you—obviously, he would always catch you—lifting you off the ground and pressing his lips to your neck, warm and grounding, smelling like home, always so perfect for him.

He walked down the hallway, bag still slung over his shoulder, hunched over with tired eyes. Normally you’d throw the bag on the ground when you jumped at him, and his body would straighten up, eyes brighten at the sight of his pretty girl.

“Sweetheart?” He echoed, already walking towards you, feet taking him to you as if on instinct.

He found you sprawled out on the couch, an arm slung across your face, another on your stomach. Your face was contorted in pain, heavy breaths and little whines coming out of your mouth.

You felt the couch dip beneath his weight at your feet. He sighed, tired, and draped your legs over his thighs. Simon's hands, calloused and rough from a life of violence and pain, knew only how to be gentle with you. His fingers slowly pressing at your calves, not saying anything yet, just being with you.

"How are you feeling, lovie?" He breathed out, his voice gruff and tired.

You craned your neck to look at him and whined in response, you were pretty sure your liver or your uterus or one of your kidneys would combust if you raised your voice in the slightest.

"I'll go get you some tea." He kissed your ankle and sat up from the couch. "Want me to turn up the volume?" He motioned towards the TV screen.

"No, it's fine." You croaked, barely above a whisper.

As Simon moved to the kitchen, boiling water in a kettle, making your favorite tea in your favorite mug—the one you got at a cheap store, white with chipped pink flowers painted on it— he could only think about how he never thought he would get this. A quiet life, a house and a wife, warm hands and food, soft words awaiting him when he came home.

He’d never admit it, but he was desperate for a love that felt right. A love that didn’t feel transactional or violent, a love that felt like coming home; and you, so unaware, so soft and sweet laying on the couch, had given him exactly that.

You watched him with tired eyes, stared as he methodically went about his tasks. He was always like that, kind of square, serious, cold. To a stranger the scene would have seemed forced, your husband’s face too straight to be comfortable in his actions; but to you he looked calm, at ease.

He came back shortly after, the mug looked out of place in his scarred hand, thick fingers so carefully gripping it, crouching down to your level and putting it at your lips.

"There ya go, love." He whispered, reassuringly, as you sipped the warm beverage.

Once you had finished the drink, he scooped you up in his arms bridal style and kissed the side of your head, ignoring your complaints. As if he was gonna let his pretty bird walk when she was not feeling well. He kicked the door to your shared bedroom open and placed you down on the bed with a softness that was uncharacteristic to him, a stillness you could see in his eyes, something that said you were the one good thing in his life and he was not about to fuck it up by being too brash.

He laid down beside you and wrapped his arms around your waist, palms flat against your stomach, pushing softly against you, warm and grounding, the ache leaving your body slowly.

"You should take a nap, the sleep will help you." His tone was authoritative and patronizing, in that way that made you follow his orders without a second thought.

"I'm not tired." You grumbled.

"Sweetheart,"

"Fine."

And he rocked you to sleep, his hands massaging at your flesh, brushing through your hair, thumbs tracing your cheeks as you slept. He didn't know what he did to deserve a love like this, hell he doubted he deserved it, but he'd never stop trying to keep you happy.

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tags: @cherrycolaheartss, @laceyfaeryy, @xoxorory

comment if u want to be added to any of my taglists! (specific fandoms/characters or everything I write)

[cherrycolaheartss]

my bb ate once again and i finally made it to first place

side note: i only know who this guy is bc of her and i need him

[motelbabyydoll]

Bruce's controversially young girlfriend meeting Dick for the first time

a/n: I need to be his controversially young girlfriend, it's not funny anymore, BRUCE WAYNE WHERE ARE YOU I AM A LEGAL ADULT. Also, stole the sparkly divider from my lovely moot @laceyfaeryy, oops. cw: age gap, female reader

The soft glow of the afternoon sun filtered through the wide living room windows, slowly lulling you to sleep. You were no longer paying attention to the TV, your legs draped over the couch armrest.

Your eyelids were already drooping, your mind slipping in and out of consciousness, when you heard the front door open and close. Alfred greeted someone, and a young man's voice called out, “Hey, B! I think last night’s girl forgot her heels—” followed by a light chuckle.

You stirred awake as he waltzed into the living room, talking loudly, as if he owned the place.

“Oh. I was not aware Bruce had company. Does he know you’re here?” Dick asked, his eyebrows knit in confusion. “Richard Grayson, by the way.” He stretched a hand out to you, smirking.

“Well, he should know, because I live here,” you replied with a playful smile, taking his hand. “Nice to meet you, Dick. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Dick blinked at your response, his smirk fading as his brow furrowed further. “You live here?” he echoed, his tone betraying just how strange he found that idea. His eyes flitted over you again, confused.

“Wait… are you the new Robin? Where's Damian?”

You froze for a moment, completely blindsided by the question. “The what?” you asked, your voice sharp with confusion as you stared at him.

“Robin,” Dick repeated, gesturing vaguely toward you. “You know, sidekick, junior partner, running around in the middle of the night with a cape and a mask?” His words came out in a rush, almost like he was trying to make sense of the situation as he spoke. “I mean, I thought Bruce was done with the whole child sidekick thing after Damian, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised."

You blinked at him, baffled. “No,” you said firmly. “I’m not a Robin. I don’t—what? I’m not running around Gotham in a cape, okay?”

Before Dick could respond, Bruce's footsteps echoed down the stairs and along the hallway. As soon as he opened the door, you were already on your feet, running toward him and launching yourself into his arms.

“Bruce!” you exclaimed, a bright smile lighting up your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Bruce caught you effortlessly, his strong hands gripping your waist as he lifted you slightly off the ground.

“Missed you,” you murmured, burying your face against his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of him—fresh and comforting, with a hint of leather. Home.

“I wasn’t gone that long,” he replied, his voice low and steady, but there was a softness in his tone that made your heart flutter.

“Long enough for me to get bored. I almost fell asleep waiting before Dick walked in. You didn’t tell me he was visiting; I would have made dinner reservations!” you frowned, crossing your arms playfully as you looked up at Bruce.

He chuckled softly, a smile tugging at his lips. “I didn’t think you’d mind a surprise visitor. Besides, I didn’t know he was stopping by until he showed up.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile broke through your mock annoyance. The unexpected arrival of Dick had thrown a small wrench in the afternoon, but the bright sunlight streaming through the large windows warmed the room, and the spring air made even unexpected company feel right.

As you leaned against the plush couch, Bruce moved closer, exuding an effortless confidence. The afternoon sun highlighted the sharp lines of his jaw and the tousled dark hair that fell slightly over his forehead. When he looked at you, his gaze was soft, as if he was wholly focused on you. Your fingers pushed the stray hairs away from his eyes that dropped closed, long lashes brushing his cheekbones.

With a small sigh, Dick finally spoke up, “Alright, I’ll give you both some space.”

You untangled yourself from Bruce's embrace, "Wait, Dick! Are you staying for dinner?"

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tags: @laceyfaeryy @cherrycolaheartss @resting-confused-face

(if you want to be added to my taglist plsss comment it!)

[cherrycolaheartss]

im 2nd on the taglist which is crazy but go like it nonetheless

[motelbabyydoll]

Hello! Can i request Hal jordan x reader but, she is batmans assistant. Essentially he gets jealous that batman has your attention all the time and has a small rivalry with batman whre they compete for the reader affection.

Feel free to ignore (♡◕ω◕♡)

a/n: I've not been online much lately because life has genuinely been crazy, but I miss you guys so much! And I'm sorry I'm not going through my inbox as quick as I'd like. I'll try to have part 2 out by next week! Also, can't believe there's almost 600 of you!! cw: fem reader part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Working for the Justice League was not an easy job, but it was a well paying gig that your years as an assistant for different government departments had gotten you, and you were not about to sacrifice that for a little peace of mind. Sure, Batman was demanding, but that was because he knew what you were capable of, because he saw your potential.

“You know, I wouldn’t push you if I didn’t believe in you,” Bruce would say, glancing back at you as you hurried to keep up. And you believed him, because he was so smart, so confident, he had to be right.

You found your job slightly humiliating, all that running around behind him, files clutched in your arms, computer screen glowing on your face as he paced and talked— walking helped him think— about some case or other. Most of the work you did was administrative, you were, essentially, an overqualified secretary.

You spent your days in the watchtower and most of your nights in the cave, the burnout seemed imminent, but it never quite got to that point. Batman was just testing your potential, he would never overwork you.

“Can you file this under urgent? And let Superman know.” he’d request, barely breaking stride.

“Sure, right away!” you’d reply, trying to keep your voice from breaking under pressure.

You could keep telling yourself that this was the job opportunity of a lifetime, that all the pressure Bruce put on you would only make you strive for more and reach perfection, but Hal wouldn't take it.

Everyone noticed it, really. Batman went through assistants like Bruce Wayne went through girlfriends: quickly and without a second thought. But you were holding on, you'd been around for longer than any other of his assistants.

You were so different from all of them, too—so sweet and doting, patient with him when Bruce was being an asshole, always going the extra mile to fix any issue he might have had. Hal could only wish to be so lucky.

God, Hal didn't know what he would do if he were on the receiving end of your actions—your attempts at jokes that never seemed to cheer up the Bat but always made Hal's heart race a little faster, and the careful way you checked in with Bruce after missions, never pushing too hard, always wide-eyed and genuinely interested.

He thought you looked just like a fawn, always shyly trailing behind Batman on shaky legs, as if you hadn't yet gotten used to the hustle and bustle of working with him, as if you didn't yet know the Hall of Justice and the Watchtower like the back of your hand. He couldn't help but smile at you every time you locked eyes, flashing his sharp canines—those sharp canines you daydreamed about sinking into your skin, hard enough to leave a mark, hard enough to feel the sting—just to see your cheeks go red as you looked back down at the files on your desk.

Hal found it so unfair how Bruce was just hoarding you, he never even glanced at you, had you working day and night, running, blood pumping, heels clicking.

If you were his, Hal would never have you running around in heels, typing for hours on end, or classifying files chronologically at the end of every month. Ideally, if you were his, Hal wouldn't let you work at all; you would never have to lift a finger around him, unless it was to boss him around, which you were uncharacteristically good at.

But for now, you were all over Batsy, and there wasn't much he could do apart from smile at you from across the room. So, he started to try harder, asking about your weekends, hobbies, and your coffee order, listening attentively—or trying to—because Bruce always needed you for something once the conversation started to get intimate.

"Jesus, you've been locked in here for four hours straight, does he know you're not a robot?" Hal would lean over your desk, palms flat against the table, forearms bulging right in your line of view. God, what you would do to bite them.

"It's all part of the job, nothing I can't handle." You brushed him away with a flick of your hand, your cheeks heating up under his worried gaze.

“Sure, but you shouldn't have to run yourself ragged.” Hal said, his voice low but earnest.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “I can manage this.”

Hal raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “You know, I can’t remember the last time I saw you take a proper break. What’s the point of working so hard if you don’t take a second to breathe and see how far you got?”

“I just don’t want to let him down. There’s a lot riding on these reports.”

“Yeah, but you’re not a machine. Even machines need maintenance,” Hal replied, leaning back slightly. “How about this: take a quick break, and I’ll grab us both a coffee. My treat.”

Before you could reply, as always, Bruce's frame appeared from behind him, movements slow and deliberate.

"Jordan. You're not distracting my secretary, are you? I need those reports typed in before midnight."

And Hal took the hint, leaving with a playful wink tossed over his shoulder. Hal Jordan was not one to back down from a challenge; if it meant fighting Bruce off with nails and teeth, then so be it. You were too beautiful not to fight for.

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taglist: @laceyfaeryy, @cherrycolaheartss

[cherrycolaheartss]

go like my bby's post in honor of her coming to visit me in less than a month 😛

[cherrycolaheartss]

Req for a smut fic with Dr House and a patient; on his motorcycle.

pairing: Greg House x patient!reader (fem)

warnings: teasing, unprotected sex, mentions of addiction (mild), spanking

a/n: yessss!! u are a genius and thank u for the req <3 i'm so sorry for being so late, i've had hella issues with school

You chase after House as he leaves the hospital, he's only faster than you because of how high your heels are, and you're slowly running out of breath.

"Please. Just this time. It won't happen again, okay?" Your voice comes out strained, but he doesn't stop walking.

"No. I couldn't give you the pills even if I wanted to, and I definitely don't."

"But you can, House. You get your fucking vicodin all the time, there's barely any difference." He turns around to glare at you before walking away again.

"There's a huge difference. I'm already addicted."

"So we can be junkies together. I just ran out once, I don't understand how it's a problem."

"It's a problem because– get off." You managed to catch up to him and are now sitting on his motorcycle, legs and arms crossed in annoyance.

"Well, no. I need the pills, House. Go get them, and I'll leave."

He sighs dramatically, but he doesn't move. He just leans on his cane and continues to glare. When you don't move, he gets on the bike in front of you.

"I don't know about you, but I'm going home."

Your arms wrapped around his waist as soon as you felt the engine roar beneath your thighs. He drives away with you perched on his back.

"Stop, stop, I need to get off!"

"Me too, but hookers have gotten too expensive."

Before you know it, you're in a dark alley, bent over his bike. He's holding your wrists behind your back with one hand, while the other slips up your dress and reaches into your underwear.

You grind your hips against his hand and you moan when he starts rubbing circles on your clit.

He finally puts two fingers inside your throbbing hole.

"You don't need pills, love. Just this."

You nod in agreement, too dazed to get any words out, and you're just about to cum when you suddenly feel the absence of his fingers.

"What the fu–" Is about all you're able to get out before you're flipped around and bent over the bike, hands still behind you, underwear pulled to the side.

You're desperate for him to just fuck you already, but instead he drags the tip of his cock along your pussy, slowly rubbing it against your clit.

"House, for the love of God, will you get to it?!"

His hand delivers a sharp slap to your ass.

"Not unless you shut up and behave."

You groan in frustration as he continues teasing– torturing, actually your already swollen clit.

"Please. I'll never ask you for pills again just please fuck me." At that, you feel his grip on your wrists tighten, and finally his cock at your entrance.

He's bigger than you expected him to be, and for a moment you struggle to adjust to his size. It's not like he'd given you much of a chance, anyway. Every time you moved even slightly forward he'd pulled you back by your wrists, slapping your ass once again.

Judging by the speed and intensity of his thrusts, he had also gotten sick of the teasing. He was rough in the best way, and you struggled to keep yourself from cumming too quickly.

"I can feel you holding back, you know? If you're that desperate to cum on my cock, you should at least have the balls to actually do it."

Before you can respond, his free hand wraps around your waist to start rubbing your clit once again and you feel yourself growing weaker in the knees. It's not long before you really do cum on his cock, and hard.

You're still seeing stars when you feel him release inside you. House pulls your underwear back to it's original position before zipping up his pants.

"Will you take me home now?" You ask, eyes glassy and lips parted.

"Sure, to my home." He responds before sitting you down on his bike. He places the helmet on your head before sitting down in front of you.

"So, tell me, have you always been such a slut for older men?"

my bestie and tumblr icon helped me: @cinnamongrl2006

also, reqs are open, feel free to send! i'll try and be more active on here...

[motelbabyydoll]

Bruce wayne and dry humping, I beg of you‼️‼️

Bale Bruce Wayne x fem!reader ˚。⋆୨୧˚ mdni (18+)˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ warnings: established relationship, dry humping, praise, age gap (reader in her early 20s, Bruce in his 40s) a/n: I meant to post this this morning but there was a power outage ALL OVER MY COUNTRY, so you get it now.

It started out slow, almost involuntary; he'd been locked in his study for hours, you missed him, craved his attention, his touch. You needed him to look at you, wide eyed and attentive, his hands on your waist, steadying you, as you talked his ear off about your day— pilates class in the morning, then a lecture, then...coffee with a girlfriend...— and you needed him to smile and nod and shut you up with a kiss and some stupid sarcastic comment; but he wouldn't, because he was busy.

So you took matters into your own hands, and you walked into the room, uncaring, not listening to his half-hearted complaints and grumbles. Bruce pushed his chair back, allowing you to sit on his lap, a routine you’ve done before.

He sighed when you finally settled atop his thighs, pressing a kiss to his cheek. His eyes were set on the screen in front of him, hands periodically moving from the keyboard to caress your waist, your thighs, your stomach, your back.

You just wanted to sit with him, but the way he held your waist and sporadically kissed the top of your head was making you wetter by the second.

Feeling bold, you shifted your position slightly, leaning into him and letting your hips move forward just a bit. It started slowly, almost innocently, as you pressed against his leg, testing the waters to see if he would notice.

As the friction intensified, you found a steady rhythm, rocking your hips against him. The sensation of his thigh against your damp cunt sent shivers through your body, and you couldn't suppress a soft sigh.

Bruce's focus shifted from the screen to your face for a moment, a soft smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. “What’s my pretty girl up to?” he asked, gently petting your head.

"Nothin', just bored..." You punctuated your words with a roll of your hips.

He was focused, eyebrows knit in concentration as he stared at the screen in front of him, his study was quiet save for the click-clacks of the keyboard and your whines when he bounced his leg— a nervous tic of his you were thankful for in times like these— rubbing the rough fabric of his pants against your aching clit.

"Right. Well, I appreciate the company, but I can't have you here distracting me. You think you can keep yourself busy, sweet thing?"

You nodded eagerly, biting your bottom lip to suppress a smile as you pressed your clothed cunt against his crotch. His usually steady breathing became ragged, a low moan escaping him as the bulge in his slacks pushed against your aching heat.

Despite his labored breathing and obviously hard cock, he stayed focused, his hands clicking away at the keyboard while he mumbled to himself, occasionally kissing your hair.

Sure, he could've stopped working for half an hour and fucked you to sleep, but he was good at multitasking, plus, he loved the way his girl looked when she worked for what she wanted.

As the minutes passed, you found yourself lost in the rhythm, grinding against him with increasing urgency. Your nails dug into his shoulders for leverage as you pushed yourself against Bruce. His breathing grew heavier, but he still didn’t shift his focus from the screen.

“Come on, sweet thing,” he said, his voice sweet but firm. “You know I can’t help you if you don’t put in the effort.”

You huffed at his words, irritation cursing through you. The wetness of your cunt was leaving a damp patch on both your panties and his slacks as you bounced on his thighs.  

Each movement was a silent plea for him to acknowledge you, but he remained focused on his computer screen, a smirk on his face as if he enjoyed your growing impatience.

You let out a soft whine, the heat pooling in your core becoming almost unbearable. “Please,” you murmured, hoping he’d finally look up, but he just chuckled softly, still typing away.

"Just a little longer, pretty girl. I'm almost done here." He tapped your hip with compassion, his gaze set on the screen before him.

With every grind against him, the pressure built until you couldn't hold back any longer. A soft moan escaped your lips as you finally reached your peak, your body trembling with the release.

"So desperate, I barely even touched you, sweetheart." His voice was sweet, but you could catch the mockery in his tone, making your cheeks go red.

You looked down, feeling a rush of embarrassment at his words. “Well, I couldn’t help it,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper, face scrunched in a frown.

He paused his typing, finally looking at you with a sympathetic smile. “I know. You really needed that, didn’t you?”

You chuckled and slumped forward, resting your head on his chest. Bruce's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you against him.

His expression softened, and he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and caring.

"Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed." You nodded, leaning into his touch. "But I liked it," You assured him.

"Good. That's good." He leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his warmth enveloping you like a blanket.

After a moment of silence he tilted your chin up with one finger, his eyes focused on yours. "How was your day, beautiful?"

────୨ৎ────

I am currently working on a LOT of requests, but my inbox is still open!! Just be mindful they might take a bit, I'm a girl, not a machine.

[cherrycolaheartss]

bring back dry humping (right after following this diva of course)

[motelbabyydoll]

Omg can you please please do older bf/sugar daddy Bruce I absolutely love ur work

Older bf Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

a/n: Sorry for my absence, life has been beating me up (quite literally), but I am back in full swing. As always, the age gap is legal, I feel the need to mention it. cw: fluff, age gap, insecurities (?), smut in part 2 summary: Bruce takes you out on a date for your birthday, but when people begin to look at you wrong he takes matters into his own hands.

part 1 | part 2

You weren’t completely sure how your arrangement with Bruce had begun, but somewhere between flirty conversations at events and muttered hellos in passing, the two of you had fallen into a steady rhythm. What started as a simple acquaintance had blossomed into a relationship.

So now there you were, standing on the street outside of your apartment, phone in hand, carelessly scrolling as you waited for his car to show up. You heard it first, roaring from down the street, and then you saw it— saw him, as he rolled the window down to greet you— park in front of you.

He got out of the car and jogged towards you, embracing you once he got to you.

"How's the birthday girl doing?" He spoke into your hair, breathing you in.

"Better now that you're here." You mutter, face smushed against his shirt.

He led you back to the car, opened the door and helped you settle against the seat before jogging back to the driver's seat.

You rested your head against the car window, watching the city streets, the night lights, the traffic go by. Bruce's hand laid steadily atop your thigh, his touch warm and grounding. He squeezed your flesh periodically, as if to remind you he was there.

"I got you something, but you'll have to see it later, 'kay?" He mumbled, looking over at you, the red light of the stoplight made his sharp features stand out, his gaze almost aggressive.

"Then why tell me now?"

"Because I don't want my girl thinking I'm not spoiling her. I'd just...rather do it somewhere private." He winked at you before hitting the throttle again once the lights went green.

The first thing you noticed when you walked into the restaurant was the low lights and the soft jazz music playing. Then, you noticed the people—couples having dinner, just like you and Bruce—except they didn't look like you, not really. The women were middle-aged, dressed in classy pearl-colored dresses with tastefully painted nails, their skin pulled taut and diamonds adorning their wrists. Their husbands looked just like your boyfriend.

Bruce had assured you many times you belonged there, but standing there, waiting for the maitre'd to come over, in your high heels, red dress on hugging your waist, you couldn't have felt more out of place.

He squeezed your hand arrhythmically, brought it up to his lips, kissed your knuckles. When you did nothing in response he looked over at you, one brow raised in concern. You didn't meet his gaze, to engrossed in a staring contest with a woman in some other table. Way to spend your birthday.

Once the maitre'd got back to where you stood he excused his absence and led you to your table, in a secluded booth, away from prying eyes. Bruce had always valued privacy, more so when he started dating you, the backlash came almost instantly after your first public appearance together, and then never really stopped; you'd learned to ignore it, Bruce did the best he could to help you avoid it.

Throughout the dinner you felt their eyes on you, like phantoms poking at your skin, vipers biting at your flesh. You knew the looks you were getting without even having to turn your head.

Bruce held your hand on the table, his fingers, curious, played with your rings, your acrylics, your bracelets. He failed to notice the way your heart sped up and your eyes found solace in your lap, the way your palms began to sweat and your cheeks reddened. At least you weren't fucking crying, you thought, but then the waiter brought a birthday cake, and more eyes were on you, and you swore you were happy but god could people mind their business?

Bruce noticed after taking a photo of you, trying your hardest to smile for him, he was so happy, smiling softly under the low lights of the restaurant, his gaze sticky and thick like caramel— and then he noticed, your smile faltered for a second, your brows knit with discomfort as you tugged on your clothes, your hair, the stupid napkin on your lap that wasn't smooth enough, why wasn't it smooth enough.

"Hey," His deep voice broke you out of your worries, "let's leave. I'll get the check, you wait in the car, how does that sound?"

"Yeah, fine. Sorry, I just—"

"—got overwhelmed, I know. I know you." His voice was authoritative and sweet, in a way that made you feel protected, safe, like you could just let him take the lead and you'd get to where you needed because he always looked out for you.

You got up from your chair, gathered your stuff and exited the restaurant, trying your hardest not to break in there. The tears came as you sat in the car waiting for Bruce. You saw him move around the establishment, talking to servers and the maitre'd, from the stern look on his face it seemed like he was arguing. He always did that, got into passive aggressive arguments to defend you.

And then he walked out, winking at you, smirk on his face.

"Bought the place. We'll do some...staff rearrangements, change some of the rules...ban a few people, maybe next time we'll be able to actually enjoy our dinner in there."

Your tears dried down almost instantly, sobs replaced by giggles. "B, that's so reckless! You can't just buy a restaurant because someone in there looked at me wrong." "Yes, I can," He hummed. "It's your birthday." He argued.

Bruce had never been one for bold displays of affection— you sometimes swore he had the emotional range of a wet wipe— and he found that spending his money was a way for him to demonstrate he loved without having to risk anything. That's why you'd learned moments like this mattered, where he bought a restaurant out of spite for all of the clientele, threatening to ban them if you wanted to dine there again.

But what you liked the most was when he wasn't trying to prove he could love, when he simply did it. When he took pictures of you when you were sleeping or eating, or sitting in the yard drinking coffee in the morning, pictures he took to remember how his heart had done a little flip when he saw you like that.

When he struggled trying to post them on social media, because you looked so beautiful the whole world had to know. His usually deft fingers, so smooth when it came to Batman technology, felt too big, too heavy for instagram.

The car ride back to the manor was quiet, his hand traced small circles on the flesh of your thigh all the way. He was at your side, picking you up into his arms immediately after parking the car and killing the engine, apologetic look on his face.

"I really wanted it to be a good birthday for you, sweet thing, I'm sorry." He pressed a kiss to the side of your neck as he carried you upstairs.

"B, don't say that, it wasn't bad. I was with you."

Once he got to the bedroom he set you down on the bed, beside a pink box with black bows on it— your birthday present, lingerie. How on brand for him— but his gaze was stuck on you.

His hands caressed your ankles before he helped you kick off your shoes, finally looking away from you, offering the pink box to you by setting it on your lap.

"You don't have to wear it tonight, we can just put you to bed and leave it for tomorrow, but I thought you'd look beautiful in that." He whispered on your ear from over your shoulder.

You nodded silently and undid the bows, opening the box to reveal a black lace matching set, pretty soft pink bow at the front of the panties.

"I'll go put it on."

"Okay." He kissed the exposed skin of your back, and tapped you in the ass once you'd gotten up from the bed.

────୨ৎ────

co-written with @cherrycolaheartss tags: @laceyfaeryy, @resting-confused-face

[cherrycolaheartss]

i helped a LOT btw so yk it's good

[cherrycolaheartss]

💌 send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome 💌

aw bby i love you 🩷🩷🩷

[motelbabyydoll]

Simon Riley is a loverboy warnings: established relationship, mentions of pornography, very fluffy Simon Riley blurb

He loved you, that much was obvious. Your initials were carved onto the handles of his guns— messy handwriting, all passion and longing— and a wrinkled polaroid of you accompanied him everywhere he went. He'd stick it to the wall beside wherever he slept, stick it to the ceiling if he got to sleep in a bunk bed (one of those with the loose springs that shriek at every movement, that poked into his back and made him miss your touch more than ever).

Johnny had asked him about it one day, half mocking Simon, he was just in disbelief that their closed off lieutenant had found someone, and reasonably so. It was late at night, they'd been sitting still for hours, the target had yet to exit the building they were watching— Price had told them to wait.

So, he tried to make small talk, gossip a little. He said he'd seen that old polaroid in his quarters, seen it get tucked away in his pocket, tacked to walls and ceilings. He'd seen Simon hold it in his hands when he sat in bed— his breathing leveled, face hidden by his mask, mumbling something under his breath before he laid down to sleep. He'd made some stupid comment like what porno she sneak out of?, a comment that would usually earn him a chuckle and a tap on the arm, but that this time earned him a slap to the back of his head and a grumble.

"Respect my bird, Soap." He'd said, deep voice coated in annoyance, almost venomous.

It was obvious he loved you when, you came to pick him up after he got back from being deployed. Obvious in the way his gloved hands immediately found yours, in the way a weight seemed to lift off your shoulders; in the way his gaze, concealed with a balaclava, was so soft, so loving.

They all heard it in his voice, sweet, almost saccharine; saw it in the way you'd touch him, and he'd let you. You could poke his side after making a joke, and he wouldn't flinch, wouldn't bend your arm back or slap it away; he'd laugh, he'd hold your wrist in his big, calloused hand and laugh lightheartedly.

Soap and Gaz watched, enthralled, as you completely took over Simon's personal space, your hands moving up and under his t-shirt, your face settling in the crook of his neck as you held him close, squeezing him tight "to make up for lost time". They watched as Simon grunted out complaining, but lifted up the lower section of his balaclava and kissed your forehead, then your lips.

Ghost was their closed off lieutenant, but Simon Riley was completely wrapped around your little finger, and he loved every second of it.

────୨ৎ────

tags:@laceyfaeryy @cherrycolaheartss

[cherrycolaheartss]

ateee once again

[emilibronte24601-deactivated202]

 A friend threatened me to repost so I will!

Basically, there r tons of fake asses on tumblr who just want comments and followers, so someone started this to see who's actually a good friend. Everyone I tag better repost (and tag other people and preferably threaten them in a creative way as well) bc I'm high on caffeine and newfound lesbianism and will resort to violence.

@ey-theys-was-coronas

@fangirlhehe

I would tag more people but they're the only ones I've really interacted with-

[fangirlhehe]

Hey queeeeeen!!!!! How ya doing with your newfound lesbianism?

@i-got-poisenality @gone5doll @theoneandonlypatches @above-the-foldd

I know I didn’t tag everyone, I just can’t remember all of my mooties and I’m tired lol

[your-least-favorite-poet]

aaaaaaaa thank youuuuuuu i’m so happy we’re friends :]]]]]]

@theoneandonlypatches @midnight-drip @bigmack2go @chippedshake @kai-in-the-korner @sugarrootwrites

there’s absolutely more ppl on here i love but im tired and out of it lol

[midnight-drip]

yayyy friends!! ily finn, you're awesome. I'm so glad I get to talk to you :))

nervous to tag ppl but uhh @arsenic-the-fae @abboii08 @musical-dash-trash @orbitkitty81 @yellowandnothing @rhinopuppy8 @17-gnomes-inmypockets you guys don't have to interact but just know that I love you all <33

[jellieblossoms]

i will cry you’re so cool i wanna be besties so bad omg 😭😭

@stormcloudsarepretty @marz-planet @goodolecaptainjack @ellyjpeg @princeloww

[marz-planet]

Awwww! This is a lovely idea, sending all the love to the tumblr friends 🫶🏼 ✨✨

@stormcloudsarepretty @abyssal-author-and-artist @lemoncatssss @goodolecaptainjack @n3ver--more

[stormcloudsarepretty]

I DON’T BELIEVE I EVER REBLOGGED THIS BECAUSE I’VE BEEN ON TUMBLR INFREQUENTLY. MARZ, I’M SORRY.

@hazydreamart @illuminopetnx @goodolecaptainjack @ho-ho-homosxual @mvrphysart @bossbabyfan2

HELLO GOOD PEOPLE. YOU ARE BEING TAGGED, BECAUSE I CARE ABOUT Y’ALL.

[ho-ho-homosxual]

Tbh I don’t tell y’all how much I care about y’all enough

@stanley-the-coolest @spooki-pooks @stories-i-guess @gothiestarzsuki

shit I’m sorry y’all I just woke up and it’s like 7 am for me

@panic-at-the-general-vicinity @frogsmushroomsbutterflies @centipede-tearz @pride-flag-color-guard @existential-grackle @violetthunderstorm @forbiddenpondrocks @can-i-take-a-stab

Come forth my friends

And yeah there are a bunch more of y’all but it’s like really early in the morning for me

[stories-i-guess]

Oh shit I just woke up too… gimme a sec.

@spookyvibesstudio @almostabajillionwasps @batmaybeman @chaos-triangle @sapient-marshmallow-princess @mishmash-webster @mifgirlcomics @thecutecryptidvtuber @quietrainflower @how-to-train-your-pomni @gothiestarzsuki @potpigu @listacole

If you guys don’t reblog, I’ll find your search hiStories, I Guess.

[sapient-marshmallow-princess]

I'd say I'm curious about this but that pun was just terrible lmao

[annoyedbreadstick]

@mentha-vacciniumrainbow @littleshytt

idk what to threaten you guys with

[littleshytt]

@thatonefemme03 you and breadstick are the only ones i really interact with 😔

[azureangel03]

@silly-lesb21 @leavemeinthewater @transparentluminarysalad

Ik there’s more but I seem to have forgotten!

[obsessed-loser]

Um... Thanks for the tag. I appreciate it.

@local-loudmouth @eclipssnstars @anomal-studios @piratebeanscore @nothing-notable @killer-bug-boi @call-me-chips @girlsnap2025 @mentally-tori-261 @frogz-r-gay @dannieboy594 @jurassicworldisbetter @deimosbreakfrost @jowithavianwings @shadowstemplex @highclasshomosexual @thenovster @tulparsbotanist @uglygirlari @plusbacon @icechucker @vinnielov3r and anyone else =]

(I don't think you guys are here for attention, I just want you guys to stay safe)

[frogz-r-gay]

ok well everyone has like paragraphs of tags and here i am

@girl-rudely-interrupted @silly-lesb21 (yes im tagging you back youre just that awesome) @nornercinder

i feel like a bunch of my moots have like deleted tumblr so id feel bad tagging them in this.......

[girl-rudely-interrupted]

rah I’m gonna explode

tag games are not my forte bc i never know who to tag

@fennec-sucks @local-encyclopedia @crunchyaps @yourfavvvintj

[xx-vamp1r3-k1ss3s-xx]

rah why do you explode so much lmao

@jammahanna @mairon-goth-minion @narcissus10191 @yourfavvvintj @here-am-i-sitting-in-a-tin-can @daggerhobbit @sunshinerainbowsandlollipops

[kiraandhervibes]

I've been tagged in this before...and I will reblog it again

@aash-the-fucking-question-mark @marauding-almond @musiwashere @stars-and-leather @onecoolbeetle @kayylivesinchaos

[kayylivesinchaos]

oh dear uhh i swear im a friend istg lmaoo

@mairon-goth-minion @whydousernamesevenexist @look-a-gay @loverofmusic18 @lesbian-marauders-fan @moony-jameswife @moonyswarmsweaters @earthisaweirdplace @cool-lesbian-is-here @noblehouseofgay @kathryn-maraudersversion

[look-a-gay]

Omggg I love all my moots even if I don't talk to you guyss ur so special

@mairon-goth-minion @fictionalsimp09 @hawaiianshirttaco64 @inlovewithmyhyperfixations

[fictionalsimp09]

thank you

@mushroom-enby @cbartonscoffee @zsrntyouil @mairon-goth-minion @starless-gaze @andytheoverthinker @overthemoons7 @iamperfectlyfine1 @lurlurlurlurlur @fennec-sucks + all my moots

[iamperfectlyfine1]

ahhh tyyy

@chaoticfandomgirly @atokirina-tsuki @cryingoverdeadgaywizzards @vintagetee13

i may be very bad at tagging so i’m sorry but basically all of my mutuals.

[chaoticfandomgirly]

AWWW THANKS FOR TAGGING ME!!

So glad to be friends 🧡

@novemberhush @moonytoast666 @helpimhopelesslyinlove @psychedelicflowerdelusion

And so many more moots <3

[helpimhopelesslyinlove]

Ty for tagging me darlinggg

Tagging all my loves and also all my moots bc there's a lot of yall and I haven't been very active lately so I'm sorry for that babes

@deprivedofbraincellsandsleep @imperpetuallylost @arqbella @apollosmusee @thatdammchickennugget @theeslutintheroom @thesongofsoleil @xoxo-g0ssipgir1 @berryzxx @imgonnagetyoubackk @my-castles-crumbling

[fr3ckledst4rs]

Omg thank you loveeeee!!! Idk who to tag😔

@vividiangelo @madmarbles4 @remus2213 @apollosmusee @viivdle @midiosaamor @sugarcandydoll @starrynightsxo @deprivedofbraincellsandsleep @xoxo-lenah @his-littlefox @blackstargazer @wish-i-were-heather + all my moots

[viivdle]

i love tumblr mutuals with the same silly interests!! do we talk? no but we get tagged as friends and what else does a girl need @kit4strophe hi @thejudeduarte hi

[thejudeduarte]

thank you thank you thank you thank youuu

@annamatix @starrynightsxo @graaaaaayy @enjoyerofstories @shuggyjiggy @worth-this-and-more @tunguszka20 @letmeliveinelfhame @chaiichait @agirlwiththoughtsandnegativity @rizzgoddessans @darlingod @his-littlefox @viivdle @kit4strophe + all of my mutuals ilysm <3

[letmeliveinelfhame]

TY FOR THE TAG MWAH 💕💕

Honestly don't have a clue who to tag ummmm @balladofareader @hopeless-umii @shattered-glass-roses

[hopeless-umii-deactivated202510]

GASPPPPPPP THANK UUUU!!!!!!

Npt!!: @welcome-to-chiles @inkstainsonmysheets @caramelmiacchiato @7975348473 @talahsaudiobooklibrary @bookworm-fangirl1 @eternal--dream @elysianwayy77 @haeerizm @jjsblueberry @liaisbroke

[inkstainsonmysheets]

thank you sm!!

tags: @7975348473 @hopeless-umii @balladofareader @talahsaudiobooklibrary @lyrakanefanatic @sheisntyouspam @lila-77 @elysianwayy77 @shattermelyhfmlblog @prettylikethestars @foreverwinter22 @musiwashere @liaisbroke @whoo0sh @sweetreveriee @jjsblueberry @thesingerinthewoods @shattered-glass-roses @anintellectualintellectual @welcome-to-chiles @bookworm-fangirl1 @book-nerd-emi @lunarlee101 @mxst3rmind @21sbaby @tig-bun @lovethornes @xoxoavry @caramelmiacchiato @lovely-dragon-of-mine @where-is-the-angst @beautifulmusicengineer

[liaisbroke]

oh my godss tysm Resha and 𝓤𝓶𝓲

@starrii-sturns @wish-i-were-heather @shattered-glass-roses @chrissleftshoe @book-nerd-emi @talahsaudiobooklibrary @chrepsi @chrxsprettygirl

@y2kstarr @jjsblueberry @sturniolohohoho

[jjsblueberry]

oh goodness thank u so much darlings!!! @hopeless-umii @inkstainsonmysheets @liaisbroke <3

npt: @minorlyatfault @book-nerd-emi @dntaed @inmyheaddd @sweetreveriee @dxstoeskyvjbess @eternal--dream @meangirlsbway @cowboylikemily @shattered-glass-roses @pjxcksonswrd @glowydiaries @gentlehue @xoxoavry @balladofareader @prettylikethestars @wish-i-were-heather @your-mommy-ems @anintellectualintellectual @xoxoivy13 @sophiaurora

[spcherryygirl-deactivated202506]

jo, my girl, ilysm thank you for the tag 💘💘

tags 𐃘⠀⠀ֵ ⠀ @bloodwrittenletters , @yeoniverseee , @laufeysgoddess , @xoxorory , @hopeless-umii , @cowboylikemily , @cinnamongrl2006 , @pjxcksonswrd , @rascaltheidiot , @yintous , @dntaed , @fromdove , @floraisunwell , @grayslovely , @garciasgirl , @gibsluv , @hquntedachilles , @vltraerotica , @mrsdigital , @dulcet- aurora

[motelbabyydoll]

thank uuu for tagging me baee!!

tags: @cherrycolaheartss @laceyfaeryy @xoxorory @dntaed !!! (my coolest most awesomest mutuals)

[cherrycolaheartss]

dont really post here enough to have mutuals (yet) but ily babe @cinnamongrl2006

[motelbabyydoll]

˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹ Dad's best friend cowboy!Bruce Wayne x fem!reader ˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹

౨ৎ Warnings: age gap (legal), sfw, fluff (that gets a lil angsty at the end? we’ll fix that in part two, maybe?). Reader's dad is a farmer (not a warning but you know what I mean), inaccurate ? (i’m not american and have like zero idea abt how farms and horse training work, so) ౨ৎ a/n: I wrote about Cowboy Jason a couple weeks ago (it was actually the first fic I posted!!), it was about time I wrote cowboy Bruce.

Bruce was new to town, and you’d just gotten back to your hometown after college. The late spring was filled with possibilities for the both of you, as long as your father wasn’t around.

Him and your father had hit it off instantly when he’d moved to town, and he’d come to work at the ranch to help train the horses. A couple weeks later you’d shown up, in your tiny shorts and boots, prancing around like you owned the place— because you did— and he’d been entranced since.

𐚁⊹Cowboy!Bruce Wayne who sees you sitting on the fence by the ring were he's training the horses your father owns, one arm stretched over your eyes to shield you from the sun, the other holding back onto the wooden rod. Your eyes are trained on his every move, and he feels a slight sense of pride at your watchful stare.

𐚁⊹Cowboy!Bruce Wayne who builds up the courage to ask you out one day, it's a Sunday morning and your dad has just left to the farmer's market.

You stand by the ring watching him ride a horse. His dark shirt is pulled tight over his chest and arms, muscles straining as he moves; his jeans and boots are mud stained. The smell of hay and mud mixes with that of the apple blossoms around you, birds chirp and the sun hits the back of your head, sweat trickles down your back and the fabric of your dress sticks to your skin, but your focus is set on Bruce.

You watch as he gets off the horse, pats her side and calls her a good girl before dragging her to the stables. How you wished that was you.

A calloused hand on the small of your back and a deep voice break through your thoughts— Bruce.

“Need any help with anything, sugar?” He drowls and you nearly short circuit.

You shake hour head no, thankful that he’s not face to face with you so he can’t see your reddened face, although you’re sure he’s seen you blush when you made eye contact countless times before. It’s not that you don’t like him, but your father would not approve of it.

But then he jumps the fence and stands in front of you, a daisy in his fingers that he puts behind your ear.

“Beautiful.” He murmurs, smiling. And your resolve comes crumbling down when he so sweetly asks to take you out to the lake for a picnic, next Sunday, when your daddy is down at the farmers market, he said.

𐚁⊹Cowboy!Bruce Wayne whose doubts about your age difference and if you’d like someone his age die down when you say yes, right before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

𐚁⊹Cowboy!Bruce Wayne who spends the next week practically playing eye tag with you from across the lawn, running a hand down your back when you’re all alone, sunbathing in the porch, or pressing a kiss to the back of your neck when he walks past you. He’s careful, private, patient.

𐚁⊹Cowboy!Bruce Wayne who is so sweet to you when he finally takes you out. He opens the passenger door of his truck for you, helps you in and kisses you before jogging to the other side. When you walk through the trail down to the lake he holds your hand, the back of your neck, your waist.

Your date goes well, and suddenly you fall into a routine, going out every Sunday, laying down under the midday sun, limbs tangled together, lips, teeth and tongues clashing.

The secretiveness of your relationship weighs heavy on your heart, but your father would never approve, so instead of worrying you kiss him again, let him braid your hair, run his fingers down your back.

He gifts you flowers every Sunday, and you keep them, pressed in a notebook, with a few words about the day, a reminder of your shared affection.

────୨ৎ────

a/n: Hello, me again, okay I’d love to do a part two where ber dad catches them together— no smut, but only if this does well, which I’ve got my doubts about. Loveddd writing it, love Bruce as an older bf what can I say?

Requests are open

masterlist

[motelbabyydoll]

reader is this diva in my mind.

[cherrycolaheartss]

i <3 old(er) men

[motelbabyydoll]

♱ Knight!Simon Riley x Princess!reader ♱

a/n: I love knight x princess stories, maybe because I want a strong capable man to take care of me, oh well, who knows. Also, I can't write accents phonetically for the life of me, so take what I give you plspls!!

warnings: fem reader, obviously, pure fluff, sfw

────୨ৎ────

♱ Knight!Simon Riley who fell in love with you the second he stepped foot in the castle. He was assigned to watch and take care of you, the princess, before a worthy suitor whisked you away to another land, where you were to rule as queen.

That was the plan your family, your kingdom had set out for you, that was the future that awaited you. That was the future you wanted, or so you thought until you met him, your knight. The townspeople and the people of the court called him Ghost, they worshipped him almost as if he was a legend, they feared him.

He was tall, big all over. He'd expected you to be somewhat reluctant at his sudden proximity, scared of him, repulsed at his appearance— at his grotesque appearance, he thought, big gloved hands gripping the sword in his belt, face covered by his dark helmet. He expected you to treat him like all royals treated the service, like a lap dog, like an appendage, a simple accessory.

But you didn't. You looked at him like he hung the moon and stars, spoke to him as an equal, regarded him with wide eyes. You sat by the training yard when he'd practice swordfighting, a hand over your eyes to shield yourself from the sun, and you'd clap and cheer him on.

A week later he told you his real name, Simon. "But you can call me Si, love." He said it softly, walking you to the drawing room with a hand on the small of your back. His fingers tightened against the fabric of your dress when you repeated his name softly, to remember it better you'd said.

♱ Knight!Simon Riley who started to get closer to you, to trust you, quicker than he usually did. He thought maybe it was because of the way you smiled at him when you caught him staring, or the way you laughed at his totally unfunny jokes like they were comedy gold.

At night, after he walked you to your quarters he'd go and stand under your window, because you always wanted to keep talking to him past your bedtime. You thought it was a shame it was dark outside when he had his helmet off, his voice was so deep, and his hands so big, his touch so warm— he had to be handsome.

He'd read to you, perched against a tree trunk, looking up at the balcony where he could make out the outline of your frame. He'd stay there with you until you started to yawn, and the sky turned orange, right before the birds sang. And then he'd walk back to his quarters and get as much sleep as he could before he had to be at your door again, picking you up after you got dressed, steering you to the dining room with a hand on the small of your back.

♱ Knight!Simon Riley who, after weeks of dismissing your pleas, takes off his helmet in front of you. He doesn't like taking it off when he's at work, doesn't like being Simon when he's in the suit and armor, but for you he's already made an exception. He's surprised when you pull him down for a kiss behind a tree. You're taking a walk on the far side of the gardens, where the trees are tall and the foliage thick, and the sun doesn't get in your eyes.

After that day it became a common occurrence; you'd pull on his arm and steer him outside of the throne room. Tell your mother you were going for a walk, you'd be back before dinner, and you'd spend the entire afternoon tangled together under a weeping willow.

♱ Knight!Simon Riley who told you he loved you one of those afternoons. Your head rested on his chest— armor discarded a while ago, his undershirt billowed in the wind— listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart and the rumbling anytime he spoke.

You had been telling him about a painting class you'd taken that day, his hums and caresses lulling you to sleep. It was the perfect occasion for him to say it, he couldn't hold it in any longer but he feared scaring you away if he said it out loud, the reality of your situation weighed heavy in his heart.

So he leaned his head down and kissed the top of your head, and with his lips pressed against your hair he said it.

"Love you s' much, sweetheart."

For a second he thought you really were asleep, and his words, his adoration for you, would stay a secret that only the trees that grew among you would know. But he felt you stir in his embrace, felt your hands snake around his neck, your lips find his jaw.

"Love you too, Simon."

────୨ৎ────

[cherrycolaheartss]

GO LIKE BESTIES POST !!!

[motelbabyydoll]

Omg Bruce Wayne after he comes home from patrol/business trip… and they missed each other… leading to…. 🫣🫣🤭

˖ ࣪ ⊹ Older bf Bale!Bruce x Bambi!reader ⊹ ࣪ ˖ mdni 18+

Warnings: female reader, age gap, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), vaginal sex, somno (whoops?? dubcon??).

a/n: Took literal ages to finish this, I'm soo sorryyyy!! But I lovedd writing it!

When Bruce got home in the early hours of the morning— before the sun came up and the birds sang, when the fog was still low on the ground and the rain pattered against car windows— he had only one thing in mind, his pretty little girl, waiting in his bed for him wearing that old Princeton crewneck he'd given you.

You had laughed when he said he'd once wanted to be a doctor, like his father. You'd asked him what happened and he'd mumbled something about uni "not being his thing". So, you wore that crewneck to bed every night, it no longer smelled like Bruce but you felt as if a part of his heart was with you while he was on patrol.

Bruce went straight to the cave, finishing up reports in front of the computer light, eyes bloodshot and tired, mind hazy. He typed almost automatically, his thoughts all revolved around you, your eyes, your smile, your hair; the soft rhythmic beating of your heart, your slow breathing as you slept. He finished up the reports and sauntered over to the shower, pulling off his cowl and taking off his suit before getting under the spray. His mind drifted to you again, his sweet girl, with plush lips that wrapped around his cock so perfectly; soft, milky thighs he could spend hours between, the soft whines coming out of your lips when his thick fingers fucked into you, harshly— Fuck. He leaned his head back in the shower, the water cascading over the hard planes of his abs.

He needed you, needed your wet cunt wrapped tightly around him, needed your hands on his shoulders, your soft moans on his ear. He needed to bury his head on your hair and smell the sweet shampoo you'd made him buy, feel your hair tickle him as he rammed into you harder.

Without even thinking about it twice he left the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist— he couldn't be bothered with clothes, not even with a robe, his mind was reeling, warmth spreading lower down his abdomen.

When he saw you, lying on his bed— duvet covers wrapped messily around your waist, one leg up over the bedcovers, thighs spread beautifully for him, as if you'd wanted him to see— he had to do a double take. In the darkness of the room he could make out the outline of your bare cunt, dripping with arousal, your inner thighs wet and sticky.

He felt his cock throb under the towel as he strode over to you. You looked so inviting, and he couldn’t resist the urge to reach out and touch you. Kneeling beside the bed, he let the towel fall away, the cool air brushing against his skin as he leaned closer.

His hands found your thighs, fingers gliding through the slickness that had gathered in between them. He reveled in the way your body instinctively responded, a soft sigh escaping your lips in your sleep.

"Shhh, just relax, sweetheart." He whispered, more to himself than to you.

He spread your thighs wider, exposing your glistening cunt to him. His fingers moved expertly through your wetness, teasing you as he leaned in, his mouth brushing against you.

His tongue flicked out to taste you and he groaned at the feeling. Fuck, He had missed you so much. Your warm cunt, sucking his tongue and fingers in so prettily.

You stirred, your body arching with need as he focused on your sensitive clit, swirling his tongue around it. You still weren't awake, not as you chased your release grinding on his face, soft, breathy moans escaping your lips.

With every flick of his tongue and every gentle suck, he pushed you closer to the edge, intent on making you cum before you awoke. He could feel the urgency in your movements, your body responding instinctively to his every touch.

As he increased the pressure, he felt your thighs tighten around his head, your moans growing louder and more desperate—you were awake, gripping onto his dark strands, pulling and pushing him wherever you needed, and he obliged.

Your hips moved in rhythm with his mouth, and when he slipped a finger inside you, curling it just right, it sent you over the edge. You gasped, your body trembling as waves of ecstasy washed over you, the release washing through you came to your senses. Bruce fucked his fingers into you, helping you ride out your orgasm.

"Bruce...need you." You rasped out, voice hoarse with sleep, as you pulled him up to lay on top of you.

"Can't say no to my pretty girl," He brushed your sweat damp bangs out of your face and kissed your lips before he positioned himself at your entrance, his cock throbbing with need. With a firm thrust, he filled you completely, the feeling sending a rush of pleasure through both of you. You moaned at the sensation, legs wrapping around his waist and hands clawing at his back.

"God you're so tight." He groaned, breath warm against your ear as he moved to kiss your temple. His rhythm became quicker, his thrusts harsher and more erratic. You could hear him groaning in pleasure as you arched your back against him, letting him het that much deeper.

Your grip on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, combined with your breathy moans in his ear—little “ah, ah, ah’s" in rhythm with his thrusts—were driving him closer to the edge quicker than he’d like to admit.

You reached your second orgasm with a particularly deep thrust, his fingers expertly working your throbbing clit. With a loud moan, you threw your head back, falling limp against the bed.

He continued to thrust into your sensitive cunt, grinding against your hips, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix as he finally came inside you.

You felt it drip down your ass and onto the bed when he pulled out and got up to grab a wet rag.

“Bedsheets...” you called out as he walked over to the en-suite bathroom.

“We’ll deal with them in the morning,” he mumbled, returning with a warm, wet towel to clean your sensitive thighs and cunt.

He carefully wiped you down, his touch gentle as he made sure to be as soft as possible on your sensitive skin. 

“You okay?” he asked, glancing up at you with a warm smile.

“Yeah, sleepy." You replied, "But nice, relaxed."

He tossed the towel aside and crawled back into bed beside you, pulling you close. “Good. You deserve it, did so good for me.” he murmured, wrapping his arms around you.

"I tried to wait up for you, I just...was too tired." You mumbled sleepily against his chest.

"You don't have to wait up for me, sweetheart," He toyed with the hem of your sweater.

"I like to."

Truth was, you worried, and you liked knowing he'd come home to you, knowing how he'd looked and felt when he settled against you. Bruce knew that, you could only hide so much from the world's greatest detective. But he didn't say anything, he just tightened his hold on you, planting a soft kiss on your forehead as a silent thank you.

The sun began to rise outside your window, the fog dissipating and birds chirping as you drifted off to sleep in your boyfriend's strong arms. You weren't certain about many things—his whereabouts or his safety—but you knew one thing: to him, you came before anything else, and that knowledge helped you sleep at night.

────୨ৎ────

[cherrycolaheartss]

bestie posted yet againnn !!!

[motelbabyydoll]

BRUCE knows he isn't the most approachable man in Gotham, his identity is fractured. He always found it excruciating to mingle amongst socialites, nodding along to whatever they said— with his jaw tight, shoulders tense, hand fisting a glass of something he had no intention of drinking. He found it impossible to make any real connections with the people at these parties, it's not that he didn't try, it's that they were so vain, and tiring. He saw his social life as a duty, another side of his job; until he met you. You got to know every part of him, and you never shied away from any of it, you never feared him, you only worried because you loved him.

There is this phrase in an old cowboy film that he thinks about almost every day. It is when John Wayne is talking to a girl he just saved. He tells her he will build her a house “at the bend in the river, where the cottonwoods grow.” It is such a simple phrase, and perhaps no one will understand what it means to him, but he thinks of you any time he thinks of that phrase, any time he thinks of love. Because when he’s with you, he feels like he built you that house by the river, like you’re a girl in a John Wayne picture, a beautiful heroine in a western, wearing a pretty dress standing in the sun watching him walk across town, mesmerized but still scared by the way he speaks, moves, or thinks. Just like all those girls, you fall in love with him a little bit more every day.

He'd like to be forever with you, he'd like to hear your feet padding through the wooden floors of the manor, up and down the marble stairs; have you sitting beside him in his study, working in silence side by side. He thinks he'd like to be a ghost with you — no til death do us part bullshit!— floating around for all of eternity. He’d like to haunt an old house with you, perhaps your own house. Maybe you could get married again, if ghosts do that sort of thing, or you could go have a romantic picnic on the prettiest side of the graveyard, where the trees are tall and the grass is green, under the golden afternoon sun. He is only speculating; he knows nothing about what the afterlife might be like. He just hopes that if there is one, he can spend it with you.

Little Bale!Bruce blurb based on this Jason post because you guys loved that so much.

masterlist

———————

Requests are open!! 🫶🏻

[motelbabyydoll]

Wrote cute little fluff for once because @minorlyatfault is turning me into a romantic ‼️

[cherrycolaheartss]

bestie wrote fluff <3

[cherrycolaheartss]

pairing: Greg House x F!reader (doctor)

summary: You confront House about slacking off at work and end up in a position (lol) you didn't picture yourself in.

warnings: smut! 18+ mdni, p in v, banter (they hate each other)

a/n: Because Tumblr finally sees the vision with House, here's more for u (and for me, great minds think alike).

@cinnamongrl2006 wrote this with me, go like her posts!

You walk into the hospital with a cup of coffee in your hand, immediately pausing in front of the full clinic. You walk up to the receptionist and set the cup down on the counter.

"Where is House?" You try your best to keep your composure. You know it's not the receptionist's fault, but if you have to cover clinic duty for him again you're going to lose your mind.

The receptionist looks up at you, shrugs, and shifts her focus back to the computer.

"You should probably take care of that, though." She continues typing, either unaware of or ignoring the fact you're fuming.

"Hey, you forgot your coffee!" She yells after you as you walk away. It's not her fault, but she isn't exactly helpful either.

You finally find House sitting in an empty exam room watching one of his soap operas.

"What are you doing here?" You've known him a long time, but he still manages to leave you baffled. You walk in, locking the door behind you.

"Masturbating." His face stays completely serious and you consider slapping him.

"Get to the clinic right now Greg, I'm not joking." You cross your arms trying not to cry of frustration.

"Or what? You're gonna snitch to Cuddy?"

"Yes actually. And I heard your last conversation, you're going to get fired."

"So obsessed with me you had to resort to spying? Listen. If you care so much about the damn clinic, go and take care of it yourself."

"I'm so sick of covering for you. Can you please, just once, actually do your fucking job?" You're about to start ripping your hair out. If you have to see one more child with a cough you will seriously consider quitting.

"As much as I like hearing you beg, I'm not doing that. You can either join me here, or go take care of the clinic yourself." You know how stubborn he is, so after a moment of consideration you decide to join him on the examination table.

"Move." You deadpan, and he shoves you further towards the edge.

"I was here first. Feel free to leave if I'm bothering you."

"You're always bothering me, House. Can anything be enjoyable with you?"

"Sure it can." He says with innuendo.

"I'd take you up on that offer." You smile at him.

"You lock the door when you came in?"

"Yeah."

It doesn't take long for him to pin you down. Your white coat is off within seconds, and he nearly rips your top apart when he removes it.

You're shocked at his eagerness, but you don't complain, immediately unbuttoning his shirt.

He pulls your skirt down your legs to find you wearing a matching set, your curves accentuated by the pink lace.

"Holy shit." He stares in amazement for a moment before pulling your panties to the side. He mumbles something about them being too pretty to take off, although your bra hardly recieves the same treatment.

"No time for foreplay. I need you. Now." Your voice comes out as a desperate whine, and he laughs at you.

"Been thinking about this for a long time, sweetheart?" His signature cocky tone is almost hot in this context, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of admitting that.

"Ew, no." Your sarcasm is apparent, but he doesn't let you get away with it.

"Alright then." He gets up to pick his clothes up off the floor, and you stand up with him.

"Wait– stop. I was joking. Please, Greg, please." That's the first time you see him smile in the two years you've spent working together, but the sight is quickly replaced by medicine cabinets and drawers when he turns you around and bends you over the table.

You barely process what had happened when you hear the sound of his zipper, and it's not long before his cock is inside you, and he's using the flimsy fabric of your panties to pull you onto it.

You dig your fingernails into the paper covering the table, you weren't expecting him to be so big. You barely have time to adjust to his size when his hands find your hips and he starts to move, reaching a spot that made your legs shake.

"C'mon, you wanted this, and you can't even stay still? Gonna cum already, huh?"

"No." You stutter through a one syllable word and you're very glad he can't see your face.

He mumbles something about you being pathetic, but your eyes are rolling back and you don't have enough brain power to think of a sassy response.

"I can feel you squeezing around me, y'know? No point in lying is there, sweetheart?"

"Shut up." He's completely right, though. You're so close you feel like you're going to explode.

"You never learn, do you?" He reaches around your waist to rub your clit and you nearly scream. He wraps your hair around his fist to pull you up, letting go to cover your mouth.

"Shut up, the clinic is full, remember?" He accentuates his point with a thrust, "And so are you."

You laugh, quickly interrupted by a moan when he adjusts the angle of his hips, allowing him to go even deeper.

Your legs shake harder, your moans get louder, and you find yourself back on the table searching for any last shred of composure. He doesn't stop rubbing your clit, groaning at the way your walls tighten around his cock.

He cums soon after you did, staying buried inside you until you're full of his cum.

He gives you a slap on the ass before pulling your panties back into their original position.

"Told you I could make things enjoyable." He says while you both look for your clothes.

"Uh uh, you sure did." Your knees are still weak when you leave the exam room to go deal with the clinic.