#that running away at that point was not the right thing to do

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗬𝗢𝗨 max verstappen x fem! girlfriend! reader ( fluff ) fic summary . . . Max Verstappen has a habit of never letting go—literally. Whether it’s galas, lazy days on yachts, or even a quick grocery run, his hand is always in yours ( 1k words )

( main master list | more of max verstappen ) ( requests )

Max Verstappen had always been confident, composed, and annoyingly good at everything he did. But when it came to you? Oh, Max had one tiny quirk that you couldn’t help but notice. He never—ever—let go of your hand.

At first, it was sweet. Cute even. A little handhold in the paddock, fingers brushing together as you walked to the grid. But now? It was everywhere. Grocery shopping? Hand in hand. Movie nights? His fingers laced with yours under the blanket. Brushing your teeth? He'd stand there, holding your hand, toothpaste dribbling down your chin because you were laughing too hard.

Even now, as you sat on the couch, trying to scroll through your phone, Max sat beside you, one hand holding yours tightly while his other absentmindedly flicked through TV channels.

“Max,” you teased, wiggling your fingers in his grip, “you know I’m not going to disappear, right?”

He didn’t even glance up. “I know. But why risk it?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled despite yourself. It wasn’t that you minded—it was just amusing how attached he’d become.

“Do you want me to get you anything from the kitchen?” you asked, attempting to pull your hand free.

“Nope.” His grip tightened, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as if to say nice try.

“Okay, but I can’t exactly carry snacks and drinks with one hand.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“Max—”

He was already up, your hand still in his as he followed you into the kitchen. You made a point of bumping him with the fridge door as you opened it, but his grin was nothing short of smug.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Bedtime was another ordeal entirely. Max seemed to think the best way to sleep was to intertwine himself with you like a human pretzel. Tonight was no different.

As you shifted to get comfortable, Max’s hand found yours under the covers. His arm draped lazily over your waist, pulling you closer.

“Max, I’m overheating,” you groaned, trying to wiggle away.

He only hummed in response, his lips brushing your temple. “You’re fine.”

“No, really, I might combust—”

“Shh, I’m comfy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, giving up the fight. “You’re impossible.”

“You love it.”

You rolled your eyes but squeezed his hand in return. “Maybe.”

The next morning, you woke to find Max already up, scrolling through his phone with your hand still in his.

“How do you do that?” you muttered groggily.

“Do what?”

“Never let go, even in your sleep.”

He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your knuckles. “Practice.”

You couldn’t even be annoyed—it was too cute. “You’re lucky you’re adorable.”

“Adorable?” he echoed with mock offense. “I’m the reigning world champion, liefje. I’m not adorable.”

“Sure, sure,” you teased, tugging on his hand. “But I know the truth.”

And as he grinned down at you, still holding your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, you decided you wouldn’t have it any other way.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The gala was every bit as glamorous as you’d imagined—long, flowing dresses, sharp tuxedos, and enough champagne to fill a swimming pool. Max, as usual, looked effortlessly handsome in his tailored suit, but his accessory of choice wasn’t the Rolex on his wrist. No, it was you. Specifically, your hand.

He had barely let go of you since you stepped onto the red carpet. Even when you stopped to take photos, Max’s fingers stayed firmly entwined with yours, his thumb brushing against your knuckles as if reassuring himself that you were still there.

“Max,” you whispered as you reached your table, smiling politely at the other guests. “You can let go now.”

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. “Why? You planning to run away?”

“No, but I might need both hands to eat,” you teased, holding up your clutch in your free hand for emphasis.

He sighed dramatically but let go—only to place his hand on your thigh the second you both sat down. You shot him a look, and he grinned unapologetically.

Throughout the night, Max found creative ways to keep touching you. Whether it was holding your hand during conversations, tucking your arm into his while you walked around, or resting his palm on the small of your back when you stepped away for a drink—he was relentless.

By the time dessert was served, you leaned over to him, your voice low. “You know, you’re setting a high bar for clingy boyfriends everywhere.”

“Good,” he replied, kissing your temple. “They should all know how it’s done.”

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You weren’t sure who had come up with the brilliant idea to spend the day on a yacht, but it turned out to be the perfect way to beat the heat. The Mediterranean sun was shining, the water was crystal clear, and your group of friends was already laughing and diving into the waves.

Max, of course, had other priorities.

“Come on,” you called over your shoulder as you made your way to the edge of the boat, a grin on your face. “The water’s amazing!”

“Wait,” Max said, reaching for your hand.

“Max,” you laughed, spinning around to face him. “I’m not going to drown. You don’t have to hold my hand for this.”

He looked at you, completely serious. “What if you slip? Or hit your head? Or—”

“Max,” you interrupted, stepping closer. “I’ll be fine. Besides, you’re coming in right after me, right?”

“Obviously.”

“Then let go so I can jump!”

Reluctantly, he released your hand, but not without muttering, “Two seconds. I’ll be right behind you.”

True to his word, Max was in the water less than five seconds after you hit it, his strong arms wrapping around you the moment he surfaced.

“See?” you teased, water dripping down your face as you pushed his wet hair back. “I’m fine.”

“Better safe than sorry,” he said, holding you close.

When you both climbed back onto the yacht, Max dried off quickly before grabbing your hand again, guiding you to a sun lounger. You didn’t even bother fighting him anymore.

“You know,” your friend quipped, grinning at the sight of Max’s fingers intertwined with yours, “it’s like he thinks you’re going to float away if he doesn’t hold on.”

Max looked up, completely unbothered. “You’re not wrong.”

You laughed, leaning into him as he kissed your temple again. “Well, at least I’ll never get lost.”

[dirtylittlesecre7]

! nsfw content !

summary | you just decided to press x to leave the damn game and that action caught the attention of a few people

warning | oral(m receiving), fingering, dirty talk, threesome

word count | 1,5k

a/n | I'm not very good at writing threesomes but I can't resist these two so...enjoy reading!

[the parts where thanos speaks english are in italics]

"yah, see that girl?" the man, whose rap lyrics were running through his head, looked where nam-gyu was pointing, nam-gyu continued "she's the girl who pressed the x, the votes are tied because of that bitch." he spoke while biting his lip nervously. thanos was staring at you with a deadpan expression at that moment, nam-gyu turned to him when he didn't say anything "it's okay man. i'm sure we'll change her mind tonight." nam-gyu didn't know what was on his mind but he smiled at what he said anyway, knowing that whatever he did, he would follow his lead.

when everyone was asleep, you got out of bed with a feeling of exasperation, turned to dae-ho who called you while putting on your jacket "where?" you mumbled "bathroom." he nodded at your short answer and told you to be careful.

a few minutes later, as you were washing your hands, the door opened, catching you off guard. what's even weirder is that two guys entered the bathroom while you were waiting for a girl, making you freeze in your place, you looked at them incomprehensibly, thanos took advantage of your surprise and jumped forward "oh! who do i see? i'm glad you're alive, baby." you quickly moved to the side to escape his arms reaching out to you, nam-gyu rolled his tongue in his mouth and took a few steps closer, said "come on... don't be like this, we're just here for a little talk. I'll tell you what..." he held your arm tightly so that you wouldn't back down and approached your ear, at that moment thanos put a colorful candy from his necklace that you didn't recognize into his mouth, nam-gyu's breath tickled your neck soon "come to our team and everything will be easier for you, hm?" he pulled back with a grin. you quickly pulled your arm away from him "you're crazy, find yourself another toy."

before you could even get out of the bathroom thanos grabbed you by the waist and took you to a toilet cubicle and sat you on the toilet. nam-gyu entered the cabin and locked the door behind him. and at that moment, you only prayed that you wouldn't die. "no no no señorita...you...are so much more than a toy. no harm, okay? i promise. just...a little deal, vote O on the next vote and we'll protect you." you looked at the two of them for a while. saying you'd press O and betraying them after you got out of here would only mean the end of you. you tried to find a logical way out but it never helped when two pairs of eyes were staring at you from head to toe as if they were going to eat you, you finally opened your mouth and spoke with a shaky voice "if..i don't..?"

yes, i'm definitely dead right now. that was the only thing going through your mind, you were trying to stop your legs from shaking as you prepared yourself for this. nam-gyu let out a short laugh, and thanos followed him, before you could comprehend what was happening, thanos held your face between his hands and lifted your head towards him, the smile on his face hadn't left but it was making you even more nervous "look baby..i'm not sure we got along. do you want us to solve this in a way you can understand?"

to be honest, he didn't even wait for you to answer, he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you to your feet and leaned you against the cabin door. when he bent his head down and brought it to your neck, you held your breath for a moment, the owner of the breathing sounds you felt on the other side was none other than nam-gyu, "you're nervous." you had to hold yourself back from laughing hysterically at gyu's whisper. like oh shit you're kidding? "it's okay señorita, we'll help you relax and make sure you press O in tomorrow's vote. but for now..."

nam-gyu's hand brushed against your bare skin under your shirt, the small and slow movements making you take shallow breaths while he just watched you with a grin "fucking cute." thanos' kisses were gentle and slow, unlike what you expected. until he left a harsh bite "fuck!" your almost painful voice only made the purple-haired man laugh and continue, the heat in your body was increasing, your inability to resist was making things even harder. you wanted it somehow and they both knew it, they continued shamelessly as a result.

they soon had your clothes all over the floor. "fuck.." thanos muttered under his breath, nam-gyu was no different. "come here." the voice made you turn around, nam-gyu was sitting on the toilet, his legs slightly apart so you could sit comfortably on his lap, you swallowed hard, you couldn't believe you were doing this in a place so close to death. but as you sat on his lap, those thoughts slowly left you. thanos pulled down his pants and made you face his swollen cock, one hand grabbed your chin roughly and lifted it slightly. "open your mouth, angel." his deep voice made your heart skip a beat, you slightly opened your mouth for him, he touched the tip to your tongue, and teased himself before taking it all in.

you were about to push your head forward and take more in when a finger brushed against your clit, making you moan, nam-gyu moved your underwear to the side, his fingers meeting your wetness and let out a breath. "fuck..you annoying slut. so much rejection but also so much wetness." nam-gyu's fingers and dirty talk made you squirm in place. thanos' hands went behind your neck at this point and made you take all of him in your mouth without mercy "oh fuck baby- yes- like that." the raspy moans coming from his neck reached your ears, nam-gyu didn't wait any longer and he put two fingers in your wet cunt, you moaned against thanos' cock. while there were fingers destroying you on one hand, the hand on your head was causing your mouth to be filled with a big cock on the other, your eyes filled with tears as you couldn't stand the pain and pleasure anymore, you let out a whimper.

gyu watched a tear run down your cheek with a grin, his breath reached your ear "can't even take this much, hm?" his fingers sped up, as you let out another moan, it sent a vibration to thanos's cock and he moaned the same way "fuck- you're gonna make me come in your fucking mouth.." nam-gyu curled his fingers inside you, hitting your pleasure point a few times and watched how you writhed in pleasure, he loved it, he loved watching you writhed in pain and how your tears filled your cheeks. you were pathetic but beautiful at the same time.

thanos bent his head, watching you take him into your tiny mouth, that sight alone was enough for him to come, your beautiful tears had made your cheeks shiny, looking at him with such pathetic eyes, and If you think they'll leave you alone from now on, you were wrong. oh these two would definitely be on guard duty waiting for you to go to the bathroom at night.

"i'm fucking close..yeah? do you want me to cum in your mouth baby? oh- fuck- i'm sure you want it, i'll make sure you get it all." you knew you were close too, you didn't think you could hold it back any longer, damn it to nam-gyu's fingers were destroying you so well. as you moved your hips, he pressed a small kiss to your neck. "you are going to make a mess on my fingers? huh? oh..you're not even able to talk, are you? how pathetic.." your whimpering increased, you were lucky that thanos' cock was filling your mouth or you were sure the guards would hear you.

thanos came into your mouth after a while with a deep groan from his throat, he stood there for a while to make sure you got it all. when he pulled back, he wiped the semen that had leaked from the corner of your mouth with his thumb and made you open your mouth again and lick his finger. you pulled back and leaned your head on nam-gyu's shoulder, trying to suppress your moans, when his ringed fingers hit your pleasure spot hard a few more times, and you finally came, you couldn't hold yourself back and were about to let out a loud moan when his free hand covered your mouth "shh.." his fingers were completely filled with your juices, he finally pulled out of you and let you stay on his lap until you calmed down, at that moment thanos put on his pants and opened the door and took a step outside. you both followed him out, a hand grabbed your arm "deal baby? you know what to do in the next vote." you didn't even have the strength to speak, you just nodded in agreement. the sight amused those two, already seemed to love destroying you "good girl." thanos walked out of the bathroom, nam-gyu following him, giving you one last look before leaving, you just knew that from today on, things were never going to get any easier.

[moki-dokie]

I would just about be willing to bet money on it that the CEO, or any exec of any bank or hotel chain, could not directly access or control anything with any customer for a few reasons.

Liability being an absolutely fucking huge one. most of these execs are not the level of fuck-you megawealthy elon is and are extremely susceptible to lawsuits and massive fines and even jail/prison time if they deliberately access private information without reason. Banks are highly regulated and secured by federal laws and take security pretty fucking seriously which brings us to

Nobody at executive level deals with day-to-day shit in their systems or with customers in massive corporations like banks or hotels. they've likely never seen their own banking software beyond a cursory glance during the occasional meeting. they probably don't even bank at the institution they work for in most cases, and if they do, they have an accountant that handles their finances for them. they might not be fuck you rich but they're still amongst the wealthy. you think the current hilton family have ever operated their booking software? or have any idea how to access customer information? or that any of the execs deal with the bullshit operational stuff thats about ten levels below their paygrade? i honestly doubt any of them would even know what department in the company to contact to even get to that information.

execs oftentimes do not have security clearance to directly access any of your stuff, to protect them from point 1.

is it possible they could? yes. the possibility exists. but is it probable? no. the risk greatly outweighs any sort of reward. not only are there major legal consequences, but anything at all that reflects poorly on the company, such as a lawsuit (especially a class action one) or bad press, will in turn impact their stocks, which is the ultimate bottom line any of them really care about. if you want to keep making fuckloads of money and stay in your cushy exec position, you usually keep the hell away from all things customer/consumer related and instead focus your more nefarious ambitions on things like embezzling and insider trading and bribing and fucking over smaller companies and finding loopholes around labor laws, ect.

"banks" can't access your account or control your funds. Very specific agents in very specific departments with very specific security protocols that are very heavily monitored and logged can view account details and take certain actions. And half the time those actions require approval from a member of their management. I suppose theoretically, depending on the software, a rogue agent could potentially do something wild with your account but not without landing themselves in prison and those actions being reversed really quickly lest a lawsuit happen. "Hotels" cannot unlock your door with a master key. The receptionist (or, sometimes, only their manager) can after a round of security verification or a warrant from law enforcement. and at least the times I've had to have that done at a major hotel chain, it is logged. i can't speak for the shady motels and b&bs out there that are run by individuals, but we're talking about corporations here.

and with corporations like those elon is at the head of, having that much unchecked power is unheard of. believe it or not this corporate state is actually regulated to a degree. there are so, so many safeguards in place to protect customer information. they've been slowly but methodically lessened in the last couple of decades - which is precisely what the ultra rich and far right (typically one and the same) are trying to do; get rid of so many government regulations that protect private citizens. which is precisely what elon has been put in charge of for the incoming cabinet.

one man should not ever have this much power. period. he should not be able to personally access any of this information. it's wildly unethical and opens up so, so many security nightmares. the world's wealthiest man who is possibly even more unhinged and dangerous than trump himself is, is about to have his own governmental department, and is going to be absolutely up the ass of the man who will be running this country. and he will have complete and total unrestricted access to every single tesla customer, every single twitter account.

and you have to ask, "Why would you assume he couldn't"?

because that kind of power is unprecedented outside of the fucking cia and some extremely classified spec ops of the military. and completely and utterly unprecedented in the hands of one person.

Hey how come the truck automatically locks when it explodes and bursts into flames

[misayani]

FIRE IN THE BELLY — NO-EUL (GUARD 011)

◜ pairing ... no-eul / guard 011 x  fem reader

◜just a short drabble-ish of no-eul fucking you with the tip of her rifle

𔗨 author's note — craziest thing i wrote so far [lowercase intended]

warning: smut [there's consent, as always. <3]

no-eul was fucking insane. dragging you inside of her personal room and somehow she managed to sneak her rifle case inside. she had told you she manipulated the guards watching the cctv to replay a recorded footage to replace the actual footage of the both of you making out right now.

she commanded you to strip naked, her voice firm leaving no room for argument. the atmosphere was tense, your blood rushed inside you in a way where it got you nervous. as you hesitated, she crossed her arms, her piercing eyes glaring at you. you let out a shaky breath as you slowly comply, unzipping your red jumpsuit and then getting rid of your undergarments.

you scanned her every move as she kneels down to her rifle case— before unclasping it and then taking the heavy gun into her hand.

"sit down, legs spread." she ordered. you were getting anxious at this point, slowly sitting yourself down on her bed before spreading your legs open, fully exposing yourself. even though she reassured you about the cameras, you can't help but still feel at unease.

your nipples harden due to the cold air, as heavy footsteps caused by no-eul's boots made their way towards you. this entire situation was so unusual to you— you didn't know what she was about to do with the rifle, what it had to do with the two of you having sex.

no-eul's jumpsuit remained on her figure, the zipper zipped down slightly enough for you to get a glance of her chest. she stops in front of you, and then she kneels down.

"relax. just take the gun, okay?" she spoke as if her words didn't have such a disgusting underlying meaning. she points her gun at your soaked cunt, while you stare down at it.

she pushes the muzzle in, the cold metal of the gun stretching out your insides. a sob escapes your mouth, even though you were completely fine with this— but not when there's a 50/50 chance you'll die by having your insides get shot. you needed to make sure whether that safety switch was on.

she looks up from your cunt, as her movements halt to a stop— "do you want me to stop? i can stop if you don't like this—"

"no. just—" you sigh, your hands gripping the sheets, "did you turn on safety?" she nods, slightly turning the heavy rifle sidewards to show you the switch, it was indeed, on. and that confirmed it, making your anxiousness slowly drift away as you let out a sigh of relief before nodding

"o-okay.." you stutter, your voice barely a whisper as you exhale a shaky breath. "yeah? want me to continue?"

you nod, "yes. please."

and so she does, slowly thrusting the tip in and out, gradually increasing the pace. a soft moan escapes your lips ang lingers in the air, mixing with the sound of your pussy squelching around the gun.

you found yourself impressed of no-eul's arm strength as she can effortlessly carry the rifle using one arm.

a wave of pleasure runs through your whole body, so overwhelming that it made your head spin, dizziness mixing with other intense sensations as you throw your head back, your arms behind to support you.

heat inside your stomach starts to build up the same time no-eul pushes her rifle in and out of you. no-eul's movements fasten, causing you to let out incoherent noises.

"don't be too loud if you don't want them to hear you." but the thing is, you wanted to be heard. the thought of someone catching you both while in the act made you even more turned on.

"fuck." you managed to force out, the way your voice's shaking indicating you were close. no-eul notices that; she picks her pace up and that's where it finally hit you— you release around the tip of her rifle, a string of curses and moans escaping from your lips.

once you've relaxed—head tipped down and eyes closed as you slowly catch your breath—she pulls the rifle out of you, examining it. the muzzle was now coated with your juices, and that made the rifle really hers, now that it was blessed by you.

@misayani

[rodolfoparras]

18+ MDNI 18+

Thinking about playfully wrestling with your boyfriend while he makes mindless comments about your strength “oh you’re so strong, don’t think I’d be able to escape even if I wanted,” he says in wonder, eyes practically shining as he squeezes your biceps, “you ought to be careful never know when I can break” he says jokingly while doing a half hearted attempt to try and escape your embrace.

Slowly but surely you start getting more and more rough with him: squeezing and pressing down onto spots, not enough to hurt but enough to make him uncomfortable. “You know what? You’re right. I don’t think you’d be able to get away if someone like me were to attack you.” The relaxed look on his face swiftly turns into one of concern and you can see the way he slowly attempts to back away from you.

But it’s to no avail, he’s trapped in your embrace, with you steadily inching closer to his face, a big sharp grin painted on your own face. “I mean what are you supposed to do? Can’t even push them away,” you say referring to his futile attempts at trying to push you away from him. “Guess you’d just have to stay and take whatever they’re willing to give you,” you continue, proving your point when you easily spread his legs wide and ground your cock up against his ass, all while he can’t do anything but helplessly watch as you twist and turn his body as if he were a ragdoll “Bet there’s plenty of things they would love to do to a pretty boy like you. Don’t you think?”

“Oh god- don’t -dont say that,” he gasps out, head falling into the crook of your neck as if he’s horrified. But you can feel his fully hard cock from where your hand is resting against his thighs , can hear the muffled whines and whimpers as he grinds himself up against you, can see it on him how he he’s torn between pushing you away and completely stopping this little game or pulling you closer to him to see how far you’ll take this.

What a sick little thing you got at your hands.

“How about this?” You say, hand yanking ahold of his hair to bring his ear closer to you “You try to run and we’ll see if I can catch you. Does that sound alright?”

This time you don’t get a verbal response. Instead you can see it on his face what he’s trying to say: and what happens if you catch me?

The silence is swiftly broken with a soft thud as you release your hold on him.”Run, quick,”

He doesn’t waste a second scrambling up the stairs, practically tripping over his feet as he turns corners. He looks and sounds absolute terrified and you can’t help but love that, cock growing harder as you follow him up.

With each step you take you can hear his rapid breaths getting louder and louder , can feel his own thudding steps as you walk down the narrow hallway, can practically smell him - not some cheap cologne nor any deodorant but rather a mix of sickly sweet vanilla and sugar- something that’s just so him - something you’d want to sink your teeth in and drain completely. You follow that very scent all the way to your shared bedroom.

And there he stands, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, or rather like a animal that’s bleeding out on the side of the road, with his cock still painfully hard and with a suspicious dark spot on his sweatpants.

“Oh sweetheart,” you coo, voice dripping with faux concern, while slowly walking up to him like he was an injured animal of some sort. “Why do you look so scared hmm? You know I won’t actually hurt you,” you continue, watching in amusement as he swiftly backs up til his back is flushed with the bedroom wall.

You’re quick to press yourself flush against his chest, once again trapping him in your embrace.“Come on. You wound me. I really wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. You know that,” You say eyes once again flicking up to the wet spot on his pants “Look, got yourself all worked up and for what?” You ask, as you cup the wet bulge over his pants.

“Stop - ah don’t” he cries out, sounding and looking absolutely horrified as he tries to push your hand away but once again it’s to no avail and he has to stand there as you freely grope him. However it doesn’t take much before he’s bucking up into your touch, head lolling back against the wall as whines and whimpers freely pour past his tongue “fuck- so good mph,”

“See sweetheart, I just want to take care of you, wouldn’t dream of hurting you,”you say with a soft smile as you continue to rub him through his pants. The man only furiously nods, begs and please of more more more, continuously rolling off of his tongue as he practically humps the palm of your hand.

“Unless you want me to, that is,” suddenly you’re flipping him around, hand rough as ever as you shove him up against the wall before slotting your leg between his thighs.

The poor thing squeaks in suprise, tears freely spilling from his eyes ,as incoherent words start pouring from his mouth.

“Come on now sweetheart,” you groan out , hand once again yanking at his hair and successfully pulling a hiss from him “you know that need you to use your words. Now tell em what you want yeah?”

Once again he’s fumbling over his words, too overwhelmed with emotions to form a coherent sentence. However you won’t take that for answer, hand once again yanking at his hair till he finally responds to you.

“Want- ah want you to touch me sir ah- please do anything touch me- hah fuck me - hurt me just anything please please-“

“Well who am I to say no when you ask so nicely?”

[witchesverse]

ur droolin' for a squeaky

pairing: vampire!wanda x human!femreader

summary: you've been distracting wanda's mind for weeks. she needs to deal with you before you ruin everything for her.

content: noncon, blood drinking, pain, clit rubbing, running from wanda, face slapping, on the verge of tears, begging, stalking.

a/n: shoutout to my awesome gf helping me write this (writers block sucks)

masterlist

When Natasha suggested Wanda acquire a human pet, she laughed in her face. It was the most bizarre thought. A powerful, high-ranking vampire does not need an idiotic, useless blood bag.

That was until you. Everything about you reeled her in, making her obsessed. She would zone out in important meetings or events because her mind was filled with violent and pornographic images of you.

"Wanda." Another high-ranking vampire, Carol Danvers, snapped at her. "What is going on? You have been distracted for the past few weeks."

Natasha sneered. "She's obsessed with a little human."

Wanda scoffed; a lie smoothly following. "Humans are below me. I would not become obsessed with such a weak creature."

"I don't care what your problem is, but you need to work it out," Carol sternly said. "I will not have you ruining this for us. Do you understand?"

Wanda nodded. She wasn't going to let a pathetic human ruin this.

-

Your heart was pounding and your legs ached with each step. You were exhausted but couldn't stop running; she would catch you. The trees had gotten thicker causing the sunlight to barely shine through, making it difficult to see.

So, naturally, you had to fall over a rock.

"Shit." You scrawled to your knees, ignoring the throbbing pain of your newly exposed skin and blood trickling down your knee.

There was no point in running anymore. She was already here within the time it had taken you to stand. You squinted, trying to find her in the shadows of the tree.

You couldn't find her.

Some people would think that was a good thing, but you knew it wasn't. You felt her hungry eyes raking over your body. Over the past few days, it had become a game for her. She would have you on a paranoid edge, pushing your fear to the limit, then pounce.

"I know you're watching me." You wanted to sound brave, but you didn't.

Silence.

"You're fucking sick, you know that?" You screamed, hoping that your rage would pull her out of the shadows.

Silence.

"Please," Your voice wavered with emotion. "Stop doing this."

Your heart dropped to your stomach as she emerged from the shadows. Her brown hair was tied in a tight bun and her bright red eyes complimented her pasty white skin.

She glanced at your bleeding knee and licked at her fangs. She smiled as you stumbled backwards, trying to create space between each other.

She was quick to fill that space. She grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at her and placing her other hand on your hip to keep you close.

"Are you scared, little one?"

"Does being a monster damage your brain cells?" You snapped, irritated by her stupid question.

Her hand collided with your cheek; her strong and painful slap made your skin go hot and sting. You tried to pull away from her but she kept her grip tight on your hip.

"Are you scared, little one?" She sternly asked again.

"Yes," You answered honestly.

You were fucking terrified. For many days and nights, she followed and hurt you. You tried going to the police, begging for their help, but who in their right mind would believe that a blood-sucking monster was following you? Her saliva would slowly heal a wound so you didn't even have the bite marks to prove it.

She grinned. She pushed her face into the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply and moaning at the scent of your blood. Her fangs lightly brushed against your skin.

"What do you want from me?" You sniffled, trying to contain your tears.

"You." She replied. "You're mine and I want you."

You shook your head. "You don't own me."

She laughed. "Oh, I think I do."

A sharp pain that was like an uncontrollable fire spread across your neck and chest as she dug her fangs into you. You squirmed in her hold, trying to break away from her but her inhumane grip kept you close.

"No, no."

The pain was unbearable until her venom was pumped into your system. You sighed in relief, slumping in her hold. Vampire venom can be used for many things, sex being one of them. The venom makes a human incredibly sensitive and horny, basically turning your brain to mush.

She pinned you against a tree. One hand held onto your waist whilst the other slipped into your panties and rubbed small circles on your clit.

Your blood filled her mouth and dripped down the sides, staining her shirt. She groaned, her grip tightening on your hips and fingers moving faster.

"Please." You whimpered.

Her laughter was muffled. "You don't even know what you're begging for."

You were overwhelmed with pleasure. The venom made everything feel more intense and powerful, even the slightest touch made you squirm.

"Stop." You weakly pushed against her.

She snarled and dug her fangs further into you. She would only stop when she was finished, not when you were.

"Please...” you beg, giving up on physically fighting back. “I can’t-”

The wicked pairing of blood loss from Wanda’s fangs in your neck with your blinding climax washing over you rendered you limp, and you felt your weight drop as your knees buckled beneath you.

Your thighs clamped around Wanda’s fingers, still steadily rubbing circles on your swollen clit, and your stomach began spasming. The little strength you had left was put towards an involuntary whine, your voice full of air as you arched away from her touch. A wince falls from her bloodied lips into the curve of your ear at your blunt fingernails digging red crescents into her pallor skin.

Just as quickly as it came, though, the pleasure melted from your body, and you were reminded of your achy limbs, exhausted from weaving your body through the woods. The edges of your vision began to fade to black, and your mouth went dry.

"Sleep well, little one."

[anthophilafalls]

Since I’m a Ford Pines x Reader writer occasionally (ONLY ROMANTIC FLUFF ok) the snow and the ambience of this is too cute I felt inspired to write something, hopefully this is ok with you OP but the imagery is so cute I immediately imagined this happening when Ford steps out into the snow to see how you’re doing after making cookies with Stan & the twins…

- - -

Warning: THIS IS A ONE-SHOT ITS PROBABLY POORLY WRITTEN MY APOLOGIES IN ADVANCE

The air was cold and clear, small flecks of snow speckle his large winter coat as he walked up next to you, gazing in wonder of the flurry of snow that now coated Gravity Falls.

Your eyes meet,

“Oh, hi Stanford” you greet him with a smile.

“Greetings y/n” Ford waves before nervously placing both gloved hands in his coat pockets, and turning his gaze away from your eyes.

You’ve seen him hide his hands before, he’s done it ever since you were kids, but this time it felt different. You hear the sound of snow falling around you, like kitten paws on a soft blanket, but the building silence calls for you to say something more.

“How was the Gingerbread house making?” you ask.

“Excellent, though not the most structurally sound structure I’ve devised…”

he responds, briefly meeting your eyes once more.

“Are your hands cold?” you ask, still curious about the speed at which he hid his hands from you.

“No, no they are really warm actually. Mabel designed some near perfectly thermally insulated gloves for me. Her knitting work is magnificent” he says taking a hand out of his pocket, slowly flipping it admiring the pattern on both sides.

“I love to knit too” you respond, “but I should probably offer some of my old yarn to Mabel, considering I don’t do it much”

“She is quite prolific in her craft” he chuckles, remembering how often he’s seen Mabel cross legged in front of the TV surrounded by balls of yarn.

You point pointing to his hand, now once again firmly place in his pocket. “You’re doing that thing again!” you comment lightheartedly

“What thing?” he asks confused checking his shoes for what you might be pointing at.

“Your hands” you giggle, “You know you don’t have to hide them from me, of course if you’re only doing it to be more comfortable don’t mind my observation…”

“Oh, right” He says running one hand through his hair , “I guess it’s a reflex”.

“A reflex from… oh right, I’m sorry” you say, “but I’ve never seen you do it this fast before, at least not in front of me.”

You see his cheeks blush slightly,

“oh.. well you see… I guess it’s because your” he stops himself, “it’s because Cathy Crenshaw” he says with a sigh.

“Cathy Cren- oh that jerk Cathy?!” you pound your fist in your hand.

“yes, I… Well, when I held her hand, she… she cried.” He says, staring to the ground shifting snow with his foot.

“but I wouldn’t c-” you catch yourself. You’ve loved Ford since you were kids, but could there be an actual chance he feels the same way? Darn it, you better not have scared him off almost giving yourself away.

“but you aren’t trying to hold my hand” you correct yourself.

“I guess not” he says, staring once more at his fingers.

“It’s ok, she was a total dweeb anyways. I mean who skips out on the science fair to play polo for free at some mansion” you respond snarkily

He chuckles, phew he isn’t too upset at you bringing this up.

It gets quiet again, the magnificence of your surroundings isn’t lost on you, both staring into the trees.

“Thank you” he says suddenly

“for what?” you ask

“For, for never being repulsed my me”

You glance, a little sadly back at him. why would I ever be? you wonder

“in that case thank you too, I was a weird kid as well, and new. It’s so nice that you and Stan let me join in with you guys, I don’t know who else I would have been friends with otherwise.”

He smiles, and the two of you stare back at the snow frosted forest.

“Winter is beautiful here” you exhale

“not as beautiful as you” he whispers to himself

“what?” you ask, butterflies fluttering in your stomach

“I ugh I think I saw a ewe” he stutters, panicked that you might have heard him.

“haha strange season for that” you respond casually, internally giddy knowing it’s not what he meant.

“haha yes, it might have come from the local petting zoo, or maybe it’s just a trick of light! haha.” he responds, clearly trying to change the subject.

“Hey” you say

“Yes?” he says, cheeks red from both cold and embarrassment

“It’s really fun talking with you” you smile sincerely.

His eyes meet yours and you stare at each other for a moment. After what feels like forever, he opens his mouth.

“Do you, perhaps, want to go back inside? Stan and the kids may be wondering where we are.” He says bluntly.

“Oh, oh yeah. I mean it is getting a little cold.” You respond, slightly disappointed.

“I’ll walk you back” he says. Slowly, he reaches his hand out toward yours.

“May I?” he asks,

“Of course” you say, as you hold his hand in yours.

It is complete…! :’D I wanted to get these done in December but life happened. Regardless, I’m glad I got to finish at a decent time. Enjoy some lovely Pines Winter bonding :D

[revelboo]

A silly little thing,, but I’m an Optimus Prime girlie & happen to also be an ‘exotic dancer’ lmao, so when I was reading Gravity….you can imagine the actual surprise & joy I felt when the reader revealed she was (or used to be one) too, like 😭😭😭 what are the ODDS?? Must be his aura….I love him, your honor

It’s meant to be!

Gravity Pt 12

Optimus x Reader

• Staring at the screen long after Megatron’s little message ends and his fellow Autobots that had seen it start speculating, all he can think of is that he’s not alone. And it’s a relief. Leaving the warmth of you to report for his duties had been difficult. Especially since you’d woken up first and had straddled him. Even deep in recharge, his body responding to those soft hands touching him. Definitely not the worse way to come to alertness and even though he’d hit the washracks, he swears he can still scent you clinging to him. But then it really sinks in. That the Decepticons are taking humans and using them. Because that’s an atrocity that hadn’t even occurred to him.

• Stretching to touch your toes, you idly run through a few stances to limber up because you’re bored out of your mind. As much fun as playing with Optimus is, as soon as he leaves, you’re alone with your thoughts again. Remembering the look on his face before he’s schooled his expression into neutrality. Like a big, lovesick puppy, hurt that sex is all you want. Blowing out a breath as you spin in a slow circle, head tipping back, you know you’d lied to him. But then, you’d lied to yourself to. Saying you don’t want more, when deep down, you do. You’re just afraid to hope, to let down your defenses knowing you can get hurt again if you do. That love is just a pretty lie used to reach a goal.

• Sliding into his seat, he steeples his servos as he listen to the bits of gossip and conversation around him. How many humans are in the Ark at this point? Honestly, he’s not sure anymore. But he does know one thing, he’s probably not the only one who’s gotten attached to their ward. Who’s crossed that particular line. And it’s out there now for all of them, the fact that their species are at least compatible that way. Dropping his head into his hands, he stares at the floor. Because someone’s going to need to have that conversation with the Autobots keeping humans. On the ethics of taking advantage of a much younger species. And how is he supposed to do that when he’s interfacing with you?

• Head lifting when he finally returns, your smile wavers when he just stares at you. “You look like the other kids were bullying you, babe.” Venting he sits on the edge of the berth and then just slumps backwards, hands over his face. Oh. Well this is new, usually he’s so calm and serious. Climbing up his arm and over onto his chassis, you drop to straddle his neck, arms crossed on his chin. “Want me to beat up someone for you?” When his head tips to look at you, you lift an arm to flex your nonexistent muscle for him.

• Your mischievous expression twists through him as he lifts a servo to slide against your spine. “When we- er- interfaced,” he says, ignoring when you cheerfully interject ‘fucked like bunnies.’ “I didn’t pressure you. Right?” Because he can’t imagine what those poor humans captured by the Decepticons are suffering and can’t help but wonder if you’d let him have you out of intimidation or fear.

• “Oh, you are too sweet for words. If anything I seduced you, big guy.” Laughing as he frowns seriously at you, you push up to stand on his neck and drape yourself against his chin, tapping a finger on his bottom lip. “Don’t worry. I promise you didn’t corrupt my innocence.” More likely, you’re corrupting his.

• “I could have,” he says, joking as some of his worry eases and you grin, brows lifting. Expression giving away how much you doubt that. “I can be a bad influence.” His protest just makes you laugh, that warm sound stroking over him. How can this be wrong when you feel so much like home? When he wants to lay beside you and exchange stories. Ask about each other’s day and spend his free time in your arms, listening to you laugh with him. Wants so much more than your body. “The Decepticons are taking humans.” Unable to say to interface with.

Previous

[mapis-putellas]

𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐 𝑲𝒂𝒓𝒕/𝑳.𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒔𝒐𝒏

The flat was uncharacteristically quiet when you walked through the door after work, and that was your first clue. Usually, Leah greeted you with some sort of sweet nickname or cheeky grin, her voice carrying through the space before you even saw her. But today, there was nothing. Just silence.

You dropped your bag by the door, furrowing your brow as you glanced around. The faint sound of the TV playing from the living room gave away her location. You stepped inside to find her sprawled on the couch, hands folded neatly in her lap, the picture of innocence. Too innocent.

“Hey, baby,” she said brightly, her voice just a bit too cheerful.

Your eyes narrowed slightly. “Hey… What’s with the Stepford act?”

Leah blinked, feigning confusion. “What act? I’m just happy to see you. How was work?”

You crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe as you studied her. Leah was rarely this… well-behaved. She always had a glint of mischief in her eye, a sly remark ready to go. Today, she was almost nervous, which immediately put you on edge.

“What did you do?” you asked, cutting straight to the chase.

Her eyes widened, her cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “What? Me? Nothing! Why would you think that?”

You tilted your head, the ghost of a smirk playing on your lips. “Because you’re acting weird. And you’re never this nice unless you’ve done something.”

Leah’s mouth opened as if to protest, but no words came out. She was caught, and she knew it. With a resigned sigh, she sat up straight, running a hand through her hair.

“Okay, look,” she began tentatively. “Before I tell you, just… keep in mind that it’s not as bad as it sounds. And I’m already dealing with it.”

Your arms dropped to your sides as you straightened up, suddenly on high alert. “Leah, what did you do?”

Her eyes darted to the side, avoiding your gaze as she mumbled something under her breath.

“I didn’t catch that,” you said firmly.

“I… might’ve put a hole in the wall,” she admitted quickly, her words tumbling out in a rush.

Your jaw dropped. “You what?”

“It wasn’t on purpose!” she exclaimed, holding up her hands defensively. “It was an accident!”

“How does one accidentally put a hole in the wall?” you demanded, crossing the room and standing in front of her.

She winced, leaning back slightly as she avoided your eyes again. “Beth and I were playing Mario Kart, and… things got a bit heated.”

You raised a brow, waiting for her to elaborate.

“She hit me with a blue shell right before the finish line,” Leah explained, her tone bordering on indignant. “I was winning! And then I wasn’t, and… I might’ve thrown the controller.”

Your eyes widened as you stared at her in disbelief. “You threw the controller? Are you serious, Leah?”

Her cheeks turned pink as she looked down at her lap. “It slipped out of my hand.”

You let out an incredulous laugh, throwing your hands in the air. “Oh, it slipped, did it? And just so happened to ‘slip’ hard enough to leave a hole in the wall?”

She cringed, glancing up at you with a sheepish expression. “It’s not that big of a hole…”

“Show me,” you demanded, your voice laced with frustration.

Leah hesitated, but the look on your face left no room for argument. With a resigned sigh, she stood up and led you to the far wall of the living room, where a framed photo had been suspiciously placed at an odd angle.

You folded your arms as you stared at the photo, then turned to her with a pointed look. “Really? That’s your solution?”

“I panicked,” she admitted, reaching up to move the frame aside and reveal the damage.

Your eyes widened as you took in the gaping hole in the plaster. “Leah! This is huge!”

“It’s not that bad,” she muttered weakly, scratching the back of her neck.

“It’s massive!” you exclaimed, your frustration bubbling over. “Leah, what is wrong with you? You’re twenty seven years old, and you’re still throwing tantrums over video games?”

Her jaw tightened as she looked away, her shoulders slumping under the weight of your words. “I know, okay? I messed up. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix the wall,” you shot back.

“I’ll fix it,” she promised quickly. “I already looked up how to do it. I’ll go to the shop tomorrow and get everything I need.”

You let out a sharp breath, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to calm yourself. “Leah, this isn’t just about the wall. It’s about your temper. What if you’d hit something else? What if you’d hurt yourself or someone else?”

“I know,” she said softly, her voice tinged with regret. “I know, baby. It was stupid, and it won’t happen again. I swear.”

You stared at her for a long moment, your anger simmering just below the surface. “Until the wall is fixed, you’re sleeping on the couch.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “The couch? Come on, babe. That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?”

“You’re lucky I don’t make you sleep outside,” you retorted, turning on your heel and walking away.

Leah followed you into the bedroom, her voice taking on a pleading tone. “Baby, please. The couch is so uncomfortable.”

You spun around, pointing a finger at her. “You should’ve thought of that before you decided to reenact a WWE match with the wall.”

She groaned, running a hand down her face as she realized there was no talking her way out of this. With a defeated sigh, she grabbed a pillow and a blanket from the bed, shooting you a pitiful look as she shuffled back toward the living room.

“Goodnight, Ted Lasso,” you called after her, earning a grumbled response.

The next morning, you woke to the sound of movement in the living room. Padding out in your slippers, you found Leah crouched in front of the wall, a YouTube tutorial playing on her phone as she examined the damage. She was still in her pyjamas, hair unbrushed and tied back into a messy ponytail.

She looked up when she heard you, offering you a tentative smile. “Morning, babe. I’m fixing it, see?”

You folded your arms, leaning against the doorway as you watched her work. Despite your lingering annoyance, you couldn’t help but soften at the sight of her so earnestly trying to make things right.

“Good,” you said curtly, though your tone had lost some of its edge.

Leah spent the entire day patching the wall, her determination never wavering despite the tedious process. By the time she finished, the hole was gone, replaced with a smooth layer of plaster that would eventually need repainting.

She stood back to admire her work, a proud smile on her face as she turned to you. “What do you think?”

You inspected the wall, running your hand over the patched area before nodding. “It’s… decent. For someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing.”

Leah’s grin widened, clearly relieved. “Does this mean I can come back to bed?”

You pretended to consider it for a moment before sighing dramatically. “Fine.“

Leah’s face lit up, and she closed the distance between you, wrapping her arms around your waist and lifting you off the ground. “You missed me! Admit it!”

You laughed despite yourself, swatting at her shoulder as she spun you around. “Put me down, you lunatic!”

When she finally set you down, she cupped your face in her hands, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I love you, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t put any more holes in my walls.”

“Promise,” she said with a grin, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @mead-iocre

[lomlhwa]

navillera (x.mh)

pairing: ballerina!reader x ballet teacher!minghao

preview: minghao can see your raw potential. you just need a little... incentive.

tags/warnings: fem reader, age gap (minghao is 35 and reader is 21), lots of flexible positions, kinda mean dom minghao, sir kink, fingering, oral (fem.receiving), degrading, monster cock minghao, dacryphilia, choking, marking, praise, pet names (slut, baby, pretty girl), unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie

trigger warnings: n/a

wc: 1.6k

song rec for this fic: all i got by baekhyun

a/n: sorry for scarce posting mls

training for the nutcracker has been more difficult than you had anticipated. your teacher has been so hard on everyone. his perfectionism was definitely showing. the constant cries of “straighten your leg!” or “point your toes!” have been ingrained in your brain. you’ve honestly become paranoid about messing up in front of him. currently, you’re just trying to perfect small things near the end of the show.

you and your dance partner dance carefully together, making sure your legs are straight and there’s not a flat foot in sight. your spun around and lifted effortlessly and you can almost feel a sense of pride filling your bones. but, as you’re put down, the hard box of your ballet slippers lands right on your dance partner’s foot, causing him to cry out.

suddenly, minghao cuts the music off and gestures for everyone to gather around him. “we have our first show next week, i cannot have this show looking this dogshit. we haven’t had a single run that didn’t have a mistake.” everyone around you looks defeated at his words. not a soul in the room isn’t out of breath from his vigorous training demands. “y/n.” he says your name and your eyes dart up to meet his. “do you even know how to do a pas de bourrée?” you gulp, looking down at the floor. “yes, i do, sir.” he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “show me.” 

you hesitantly walk to the open space in front of him and get up en pointe. you perform the travelling movement, making sure to keep your legs straight and keep your body lines looking flowy. when you finish, you look over to see the most intimidating scowl on your teacher’s face. “i’m gonna need you to stay after class.” your face flushes bright red as you rush to disappear within the crowd of your classmates. 

the rest of the class is a blur. you can’t focus after your teacher embarrassed you like that in front of the whole class. finally, the class ends and you watch as your classmates rush to leave the studio. you and minghao stand on opposite sides of the room, staring at each other. “how long have you been doing ballet?” he asks, stretching arms over his chest. “um, 4 years.” he laughs, wandering over to you. “that’s like nothing compared to your classmates.” he looms over you, his shadow filling you with darkness.

“show me your pirouette.” he moves away from you, gesturing to the empty room. you lift yourself onto your toes and demonstrate a few spins, more than necessary. you stumble at the end and you can feel minghao’s blazing fury. “come here. put your hand on the bar.” you scurry over and do as instructed, your hand resting gently on the wooden bar attached to the wall. he leans down and grabs your ankle. he lifts it until your foot is above your head, your legs spread in a perfect split. “you’re very flexible and your moves are graceful, you just can’t follow through.” he runs his hand down your leg, his hand pausing to rest on your core. you jump, your legs fighting to hold their position.

minghao presses his palm against your core, electricity surging through your veins. you moan slightly before pressing your lips together in a thin line. he runs his finger over your slit through your tights. the thin fabric gives way to how wet you’re becoming at simple touches. “are these your performance tights?” minghao whispers. you shake your head, your legs beginning to ache. suddenly, the sound of fabric ripping fills the room. you gasp at the sudden cold feeling. your knee bends, your leg begging to be let back onto the floor. “keep your fucking leg up while i please you.” he demands as he pushes your panties to the side. 

you use your free hand to hold your foot, desperately trying to keep your leg up. minghao licks a wet stripe up your core, salivating at how wet you’d become. you shiver as he licks stripe after stripe up your cunt, savoring your taste as if he’d never tasted something so delicious. “if you can be a good girl and keep your leg up, i’ll let you cum,” he instructed. he dove into your core like he may never eat again. the sideways angle having him gripping every expanse of your ass and thighs he could get at. he rips your tights open more so he can feel your bare skin in his hands. 

his tongue jabs at your hole, barely dipping in to feel your dripping walls. his eyes roll back into his head at the way your body jerks whenever he sucks on your clit. your grip the bar on the wall so hard your knuckles turn white. your legs shake as they threaten to close against your will. “p-please sir,” you beg. you don’t even really know what you’re begging for at this point. his fingers find their way to your hole, replacing his tongue. he fingers you with such intensity that you’re worried he might break his hand. your whines and whimpers grow in volume quickly.

he chuckles against you, beginning to eat you with even more intensity. his fingers and his tongue move in sweet tandem. you start to piece together that he doesn’t intend to let you cum, he wants you to let your leg down. your whole body trembles as he licks and sucks on your wet heat until finally; your leg comes down. you stumble backwards and your ballet teacher looks at you with a sinister grin. “so sad, the poor baby doesn’t get to cum on my tongue.“

you look at him, defeated. your legs are so sore you can barely stay standing. minghao seemingly glides over to you before hooking his foot around you to force your knees to bend. you fall backwards and he lays you down on the floor. “can barely follow dance moves, let alone instructions while i’m eating you out. what a disobedient slut.” you whine, writing around on the cold dance practice floor. he slots himself between your legs, pressing his growing erection against your core. your cunt leaves a wet spot on his light colored tights. 

he looks down between your legs and sighs dramatically. “look at the fucking stain you’re leaving on my tights. so fucking pathetic,” he spreads your legs into a split again, grinding against your exposed core. your hands find their way to his forearms, digging your nails into his skin. “you’re so flexible and yet you can’t keep your legs straight when dancing. you’d think with a split like this, it would be effortless to you. do you use your split for sex more than dancing? is that it?” you whine at his disapproval. 

he separates from you to pull his tights down, a much more gentle gesture than the way he had torn yours open. your eyes widen, watching as he frees his cock. he catches your feverish eyes with his sinister ones. “you think you can take it, baby?” you shake your head slowly and he fakes a look of pity. “you can, and you’re going to.” he takes his place between your legs once again, his cock dragging against your slit. “hold your legs open.” you hook your hands around your thighs, doing your best to stay spread.

he guides himself into your desperate hole, the sting of the stretch filling your senses. your nails dig into the skin of the back of your thighs as you shake underneath minghao. he finally bottoms out and his jaw falls slack. he places his palms by your head, trapping you between his arms. he holds eye contact with you as he draws his hips back before thrusting back in slowly. you savor the feeling of every inch dragging along your walls. 

your forearms begin to ache from holding your legs open, your grip slipping. minghao rises to his knees and swats your hands away from your thighs. he replaces them with his own, folding you in half. his thrusts pick up in speed, drilling you full of his cock. “such a good fucking girl, taking my cock. you like when your teacher fills you up, huh?” you nod, your brain not even computing what he’s saying. “words, slut.” you pant desperately, trying to even muster a few words. “y-yes, sir.”

he lands a couple hard slaps to the soft skin of your thighs, leaving bright red hand print marks. you squeal, clenching around him. your senses go into overdrive when he wraps one hand around your throat, applying just enough pressure for your vision to go slightly fuzzy. tears spring to your eyes and flow down the side of your face. he stops holding you down and moves his other hand to your clit, rubbing over it quickly. “fuck, i’m so close, pretty girl. want you to cum for me, can you do that?” you nod to the best of your abilities and he smiles. 

your body spasms as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. you wrap both your hands around his wrist as he tightens his grip just a little more. “c-cumming,” you choke out. minghao lets out an animalistic groan as you clamp down on him. you wrap your legs around him to lock him into place, his last couple thrusts chasing his own orgasm. his hips stutter as his cum fills you to the brim, leaking out of you and onto the floor. he finally releases your throat and you suck in a few labored breaths. 

he pulls out of you and admires your spent body on the floor. “god, i think we should have more after class practices. do you agree?” you’re too tired to even respond but the way you shiver tells him everything he needs to know. he chuckles before reclothing himself. “there’s a pair of extra leggings in the closet. you might wanna put those on before you leave.” he grabs all of his things and walks away to the door. “see you tomorrow, y/n.”

© lomlhwa 2025

[woso-dreamzzz]

New Girlfriend III

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle x Teen!Reader

Summary: You make a game

When Lucy cracks open your door, you're as you always are.

You're hunched over your computer, clicking around some game level aimlessly with your tongue sticking out in concentration.

Your mice, like they always are when you're in the room, are running riot in their pen.

Outside of their cage and on the floor, you've set up a little pen for them to roam around and play in.

Lara and Zelda are wrestling like always as Clementine tries to work through the enrichment puzzle full of food. Ezio is asleep, flopped over on your shoulder as you study whatever new game you've found.

"You ready for dinner?"

Now that it's gotten colder, you've managed to get even moodier than before and even more of a shut in.

"One sec," You say. You click around the game level a bit more before pulling up a separate tab to type a long string of something Lucy can't even hope to understand. "Alright, I'm done. What's up?"

Lucy rolls her eyes fondly. "Dinner. Now. Ona cooked."

You push your chair out from your desk and stretch, your back cracking from the long hours you've spent hunched over.

You put the mice back into the cage, each of them getting a quick snuggle and kiss before you bolt it shut.

"Is it good food?" You ask as you go down the stairs.

"It's better than your mum makes!" Ona calls out and you grin.

"Yeah, but anything's better than Mum's cooking!"

Lucy grumbles, shaking her head. "One nice meal is all I ask. One meal where I don't get horrifically bullied!"

"We don't bully you," You say," It's character building!"

You and Ona laugh and Lucy just rolls her eyes. Sometimes, you think she would prefer if it went back to what it was like when you were first adapting to Ona.

"Oh," She says," I sent you those audio files you wanted."

"Thanks."

Lucy frowns. "She's been making you do those too?"

"Yeah, it's for a school project, right?"

You nod. "Uh-huh. It's for programming."

"I know I shouldn't have let you sign up for that," She says," It's all you ever do. I think you're losing sleep over it."

"You'll like it," You declare," What I'm working on. I promise."

"I'm sure that I will but it doesn't mean I think you're sleeping well. Put it down for once, that's all I'm saying."

You roll your eyes.

Lucy's always like that about your programming. Sometimes she lays asleep at gone three in the morning and can still hear you typing away on your computer for hours on end.

You return to your room after dinner ends and briefly come out to show Ona what you're working on while also denying Lucy the same opportunity.

"You've love it," Ona assures her at training the next day.

"Love what?" Keira asks," Oh, y/n's game? Yeah, you'll love it, Luce."

"Am I the only one that hasn't seen it?!" She demands, glancing around the room at people who are trying to not make eye contact with her. "Seriously? Raise your hand if you've seen it?"

Slowly, everyone raises their hand.

"This is so unfair!"

When you first got given the project, Lucy had been the first person to be clued into your plans. You showed her all your design sketches and all your ideas as you jumped between them.

At one point, one of your bedroom walls had been covered in concept designs and you would stand in front of it and point out certain aspects you liked and things you didn't think were quite perfect yet.

Lucu had been integral to your thought process and then all of a sudden she was shut out. You'd ask her to record voice lines or demonstrate doing something but you'd never explain why or what it was for.

You all but unplugged your computer when she came in unexpectedly and tried to get a sneak peak.

"Alright," Lucy says when she gets home to see you and Ona giggling on the sofa together," I've had enough. Show me your project."

You sit upright immediately, eyes wide.

"No-"

"I'm not taking no for an answer. I've had enough of the secrets."

She's serious. You can tell by the clench in her jaw and the way her arms are crossed over her chest.

Lucy's stubborn but you inherited from her so you're stubborn too.

Your cross your arms in the same way as you stand. "No! It's not finished! You can see it when you're finished!"

"Hey," Ona intervenes before the argument can truly get heated. Her hand rests on your shoulder. "It's okay. Just show her."

"I can't! It's not ready!"

"Come on," Ona says," Show her."

You glance at your Mum, who is staring at you with that same stern look and crossed arms as the one that she came in with.

"Fine. Give me a sec."

Lucy sits on the sofa as Ona hooks up a laptop to the tv.

You come back in with a disc and nervously put it into the dvd slot.

Lucy doesn't know what to say when the opening credits appear.

'Lucy Bronze: The Game' with a little pixel version of her holding the Champion's League trophy up on her head.

"We were meant to make a game about a hero," You say," And you're my hero."

[seungcheorry]

Could you do the members reaction to another’s members relationship? Like how the members interact with another’s s/o!! Idk why but I just had a thought of the members snickering at seungcheol being babied by his s/o in front of everyone, especially if he was being all “big and scary leader” before they came it.

how svt members interact with another's member s/o:

seungcheol - tries to be his cutest being, which isn't that hard. he's very polite, and he's the most likely member to call others out when they start to tease the couple (i.e let's say seungkwan and dokyeom are teasing wonwoo because he's with his s/o; seungcheol will tell them off, or just give them THEE leader side eye).

jeonghan - a fine line between teasing and being really chill. he will probably tell the member's s/o a funny story or two, especially if we're talking about the youngest members here (or mingyu, he just loves to mess with mingyu). but jeonghan also knows when to stop, his kind soul would never let the banter go way too far.

joshua - a gentleman. what more can i say? he doesn't play around - he might laugh if any of the members do, but that's about it. most likely to befriend a member's s/o too, because joshua doesn't like when people feel left out so he might engage in conversations with them and- oh, you like that band? that's crazy, he likes it too! and you know who recommended? your boyfriend! wow, life is crazy, isn't it?

jun - shyyy, shy boy. jun could never be rude to someone, especially someone one of his members love, but don't expect him to befriend them or something (at least not if they weren't friends already). he will answer and chat with them in social gatherings, but other than that he's just a quiet, comfortable acquaintace.

soonyoung - if you expected me to say that this boy will be talking and laughing 24/7 and a menace, you're wrong. soonyoung draws the line when it comes to relationship - he knows things are always hectic for everyone in the group, so whenever he sees one of his members with their s/o he just warmly smiles to himself and let them be. will probably befriend some of them though, but that's about it. don't count on him to tease or anything.

wonwoo - it really depends. he's probably very much like soonyoung, but if we're talking about mingyu's s/o then that might be a bit different. they're always together, so wonwoo will probably grow fond of that person, feel comfortable around them. other than that, i don't see him being too chatty, too "i gotta be bffs with them", you know?

jihoon - okay, at this point i feel like i'm repeating myself. the entire 96 line will act similar, so it wouldn't be different with jihoon. he might joke around a bit more than the others at some point (let's say, one of his members is with that person for many years now), because he will see them as family. but that's about it, i guess.

seokmin - oh, seokmin is the cutest. he can be quite shy around them, especially if they're the s/o to one of his hyungs, but his charm will help him befriend them. always has that sweet smile on his face, and doesn't shy away to tease his members with kisses and hugs in front of their s/o. "ya, why won't you let me kiss you? is it because your partner is here?". good luck to seventeen, i guess.

mingyu - too shy to tease. mingyu will probably be that person who will quietly laugh at the jokes thrown at the couple, and maybe call out the member if it goes too far too. but don't be scared, he's the most likely member to befriend the members' partners too, right beside joshua, so engage in a conversation with him and in two business months, he'll be hiding behind you as he runs away from one of his hyungs at a gathering.

minghao - it really depends on the type of person. if minghao clicks with the s/o, then he's gonna talk to them and try to befriend, even joking a little with a "ya, you better not let them go, you hear me?" to his member. if he doesn't click, then of course he's gonna be polite overall, but don't expect him to engage in conversations or joke around.

seungkwan - a teaser, but in a good way. seungkwan will probably throw some light jokes to the couple only so the s/o can feel comfortable around him, to light up the mood, you know? seungkwan is very friendly and an entertainer to the core, so he tries his best to befriend or at least make the s/o feel at home because if they are important to any of his brothers then he thinks they deserve to feel at ease too.

vernon - vernon is one of the members who would take the longest to warm up to someone's s/o. not because he doesn't like them, but because vernon seems like the type of person who's really careful about the people he let into his life. he's always polite, would gladly hold a conversation with them on a gathering (especially if we're talking abou seungkwan's s/o), but that's about it, i guess. he will only truly befriend them after the relationship is going for a long time.

chan - my pretty, little polite boy. he will act like the younger brother he already is, initiating a conversation with them as soon as he has the chance, but being so careful not to make them feel overwhelmed (especially if there is another member trying to tease the couple or whatever). chan knows how his brothers can get sometimes.

[mahoganydesk]

Danny's life imploded - Bad Reveal or everyone he loves died, take your pic - and in throws of grief, someone tried to put their will on Danny. Could've been the Observers trying to make him a puppet king, could've been Vlad trying to gain control custody of him, could've been the GIW trying to capture the Ghost Boy. In any case, Danny had no desire to let them win but he had no will (or strength) to fight. So, he ran into the Infinite Realms and got lost. He has no idea how long he stayed there, but as time went on, he slowly started acting more like a ghost. His humanity started slipping. It was easier this way, letting his human thoughts go fuzzy and putting his ghostly instincts in the driver seat. At some point in time, he slipped through a natural portal. Without thinking, he reformed his feet and stood on solid ground for the first time in forever. His senses told him right away that he wasn't in the Realms any more but he had no idea where he was. Not anywhere he recognized in the slightest, like the whole world was different. But that could've just been in his disorientation. He was starting to feel nervous and itchy - he had to do something. He was just about to run off when something mysterious dropped from the roofs and attacked him. He fought back just as hard as this new person but he recognized that this wasn't a fight to the death. There was nothing to be gained but greeting and sizing each other up. As such, he didn't put his full strength in it. He wanted to show off that he was just as skilled as this other being. In the end, he wasn't. He lost but as he was being carried off by this person who just radiated safe/protect, he thought it wasn't a bad thing. Danny woke up the next morning with his first coherent thought since he ran away: I'm hungry When was the last time he had eaten? When was the last time he had been in his human form? Looking up from the shoulder his face was pressed into, he saw himself in the mirror in the corner of the room. He wasn't deathly skinny - maybe a bit paler than normal with bruises from the half-remembered fights. It seems the Infinite Realms took care of both sides of him or his human side was dormant while in ghost form? Eh, too much theorizing, not enough evidence. Instead of wrapping his still fuzzy mind around the existential questions of an eldritch location, Danny decided to snuggle into the body he was wrapped around, nuzzling his face into the crook of the neck - Only for his eyes shoot open and his whole body tense. He would have flung himself off in panic if the limbs of the other person didn't immediately hold him place, a hand going to the back of his head to keep his face pressed into her shoulder. "You're safe," a voice next to his ear whispered. And he believed her. Danny didn't really know this person, although his memory from last night was clearing up and he realized that it was she who gave him these bruises. He took a calming breath, taking in her scent, and waited for the adrenaline to leave his body. As he drifted back off to sleep, he heard her very softly, with such love, say, "Mine."

Silly little Dead Silent idea where Cass, as Black Bat is just finishing up patrol with the others when she suddenly finds herself overcome by strange yet for some reason familiar instincts.

Those instincts have her taking off to follow an invisible trail only she can sense, eventually leading her to what appears to be a glowing meta boy.

Black Bat doesn't even think, just immediately goes into attack mode and proceeds to beat the "meta" boy into submission, the guy retaliating just as fiercely.

The only reason the rest of the Bat clan aren't stepping in is because Red Hood, having a weird feeling he knows what's happening says not to interfere.

It all becomes clear once Black Bat successfully gets the glowing guy down, then proceeds to pick the now docile "meta" up and carry him in her arms in a rather possessive manner.

The only explanation the Bat clan gets from her is "Mine now."

[monzabee]

run for the hills – lh44 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where fate decides to bring you back into Lewis’ life, making him question his belief in fate.  

Pairing: lewis hamilton x rosberg!reader

Word Count: 9.3k 

Warnings: cursing, crying, drinking and mentions of alcohol, mentions of brocedes (rip), kissing, unprotected sex (you shouldn’t be surprised at this point), oral (m receiving), hand kink, praise kink, minors dni!!

Request: “hey, Merry Christmas 🫶🏽 I was hoping I could request a Lewis smut fic where the reader is Nico Rosberg's sister (with a age gap of around 6-8 years with him and Lewis) and before 2016 they were just really close friends who just kissed once but chose to pretend it didn't happen. after years, they run into each other at a club or a party and they're pretty snappy at each other but there's a lot of tension too and they end up having sex where Lewis is really cocky and also the reader has a hand kink and praise kink? I'm so sorry if I made it too long, i love your writing <33” + “oooo please could i request something w lewis?! something gut wrenchingly angsty? sorry i don’t really have a plot in mind hhhh thank you heheh”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! HAPPY NEW YEAR, i started this fic last week and i honestly didn't think I'd finish it this quickly but here we are. don't let my words fool you, i got the request last christmas but if you know me then you know that i am not quick when it comes to working on requests (i'm working on this i promise), not that this fic is even remotely christmassy, but let’s just appreciate that it is supposed to be set during the holiday period lol. this was supposed to be a shorter one but here we are, lol, i'm not even surprised at my inability to keep things short at this point. i posted this fic and realised i forgot to copy and paste a big chunk of it so oh well. as always, feedback is appreciated, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee 

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Lewis decided he doesn’t like cold a long time ago. That’s why, being the ever-decisive person he is, he chooses to spend his winter vacationing in places like the Maldives or Bali. His decisiveness is an important part of him, given what he does for a living. When he is on the track, in his car, there is no room for hesitation – he needs to be able to make split-second decisions under intense pressure, what’s not to love about that? So, once he decided he’d rather spend his time off basking in the sun rather than freezing to death somewhere else, he never looked back. He enjoys spending his time off in someplace tropical with his family, or without his family; most of the times away from the prying eyes and camera lenses of the media. 

But this time, it’s different – he's alone. 

Or rather, he thought he would be alone. The villa he rented out for the duration of the month is isolated, just how he likes it. He wakes up to the sound of waves crashing against the shore right outside his windows, and the distant chirping of tropical birds to accompany him as he lounges on the large deck, overlooking the infinite expanse of blue. There are no spectators around to gauge his reaction, try to get him to speak out about his plans for the next year when he moves to Ferrari, or what he’s going to do when he eventually retires one day. He hasn’t seen anyone from the racing world for weeks, and it’s been a much-needed break. He’d usually love to spend Christmas with his family, the only time he would ever tolerate the cold being when he is with his family, but this year he just wanted to get away on his own. 

There is no one around that expect anything from him. Just peace. 

He’s not a hermit, of course, but he enjoys spending his time by himself mostly isolated from all the other guests of the touristic area he’s staying in. The chef that works at the villa is on call for when Lewis decides that he wants to stay in for the night, the housekeeping staff come every morning to clean up around the house, then promptly leave, providing Lewis with the privacy he so desperately needs. But other than that, and a few nights spent outside in a restaurant or a club? He is all alone, and he is not complaining about it. Another thing about Lewis Hamilton is that he doesn’t believe in fate. He believes in setting and achieving goals; after all, that’s what he’s done all his life. His success isn’t some cosmic coincidence. It’s years of sacrifice by his parents, relentless effort, and unwavering determination. So, when things happen that feel serendipitous, like running into someone from his past, he doesn’t chalk it up to destiny. He chalks it up to the sheer unpredictability of life. 

And yet, as he steps out of the villa to head to a nearby beach club after dinner, he doesn’t expect to run into you, especially not after how the things ended last time, but there you are. His eyes find you at the bar with some guy next to you – he has to do a double take. Just to make sure, he tells himself. But no matter how many times his attention reverts to you, he knows it’s you. Of course, it’s you. Though he’s not a believer in fate or destiny, or whatever you might want to call it, there you are – dressed in a flowy linen dress. His first instinct is to ask the server to seat him somewhere else so that he wouldn’t have stare at you and your ‘date’ for the night. His grip on the glass in his hand tightens momentarily, and he exhales slowly, forcing himself to look away. This is not the moment, he tells himself. It’s not his business, not anymore. But still, his gaze drifts back to you. You’re laughing at something the guy says, your head tilted slightly as you sip from your drink. He can’t hear your laughter, no – but what a sound that would be to hear, he thinks for a moment. 

He knows he shouldn’t care who you’re with or what you’re doing; it’s been years since the two of you shared anything beyond... well anything, really. But something about seeing you here, in this place he thought was his private retreat from the world, feels like a twist of fate – or the kind of cosmic joke he claims not to believe in. But his eyes watch you as you throw you head back in a laugh and he can practically hear the sound in his head, his mind taking him to years ago when he used to be one of the people who got to hear it first hand; when he joined your family on karting days, or when you celebrated with him when he won a race, or even back to that one time when him and Nico were trying to drive those unicycles and you kept doubling over in laughter when they fell down – something your brother did not appreciate, but Lewis couldn’t help the smile that crept on his face as he watched you from the ground.  

Somethings never change, he thinks, as he notices the smallest of smiles that has crept its way onto his face, quickly disappearing the moment he catches himself. He knows it shouldn’t matter to him – let alone bother him. But old habits die hard, and the sight of your smile, that easy laugh, stirs something in him that feels like both longing and a pang of annoyance. You’ve always had a way of getting under his skin. Back then, it was teasing remarks that somehow felt more genuine than any praise he received elsewhere. He catches himself glancing your way again, his jaw tightening when the guy beside you leans in a little too close. It’s irrational, this surge of jealousy that claws at his chest. He knows he has no right to feel this way, but that doesn’t stop it from burning through him. He looks down at his drink, willing himself to focus on anything but you. But memories have a way of sneaking up on him, unbidden. The days spent at karting tracks, the shared dinners with your family, the quiet moments when it was just the two of you, talking about everything and nothing at all. Back then, it was easy. Natural. Like you were two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly, until you didn’t. 

Just then, you glance over, your eyes scanning the room before they land on him. For a moment, everything stills. The laughter fades from your face, replaced by something unreadable. Surprise, maybe. Or recognition. His breath catches in his throat, and he curses himself for the way his chest tightens under your gaze. He watches as you excuse yourself, heading towards the restrooms, and he swears he has never gotten up so fast and walked so fast in his life. He doesn’t think, he just moves until he spots you in the hallway, queued behind some people waiting for the bathroom line. What kind of a club only has one bathroom? He thinks, but that’s not the point. 

He clears his throat. 

You turn, eyes widening in that familiar, guarded way. “Lewis.” Your lips open in shock as you glance behind him and then focus on him again, “Did- did you follow me here?”  

“Were you on a date with that guy?” The words come out of his mouth before he can stop himself, his voice colder than he expects. 

You blink, taken aback by the question. “Excuse me?” 

He stands there, regretting the words as soon as they leave his mouth, but that doesn’t stop the irritation from creeping up his spine. His gaze flickers to the bar behind him, where the guy you were with is still talking to the bartender, oblivious to what’s going on. “I asked if you were on a date,” he repeats, a little sharper this time as he emphasises the last word. 

You raise an eyebrow, the surprise on your face melting into something more guarded, a mix of disbelief and annoyance. “What if I was?” You cross your arms, your eyes narrowing. “Maybe I’m just out enjoying my night. Ever think of that?” 

He feels a rush of heat in his chest. “It’s not like I care,” he mutters, though it’s clear from the edge in his voice that he does. “Just curious.” 

You scoff, your lips curling into a sarcastic smile. “Sure, Lewis.” 

“So?” He inquires, “Are you? On a date with that guy, I mean.” 

You raise an eyebrow, clearly not amused. “Are you serious right now?” you snap, your arms tightening across your chest. “You’re standing here, in the middle of a hallway, asking me about my love life? What is this, high school?” 

Lewis feels the heat rise in his neck, irritation mixing with a sense of frustration he doesn’t quite understand. “I’m not asking for your life story, just... just an answer. Is it that hard?” His voice is tight, but he doesn’t back down. 

You scoff again, your lips curling into something between a smirk and a sneer. “You really think you can just waltz back in and start demanding answers like we’re still... You know what? Yes, Lewis, I’m on a date.” You throw a glance over your shoulder at the guy still sitting at the bar. “We met on the beach at the hotel I’m staying at, and I thought I’d let him treat me to a dinner and a couple of drinks before I’d let him fuck me six ways to Sunday.” You roll your eyes at someone on the queue gasping at your choice of words. “Not that it’s any of your business. Are you happy now?” 

Lewis’s hand grips your wrist, a little too tight, and without warning, he’s tugging you away from the bar, his jaw clenched. “Come on,” he mutters, his tone low and urgent, as he steers you towards the back exit. You’re caught off guard, stumbling to keep up with his forceful pace, your heart hammering in your chest. 

“What the hell, Lewis? Let go of me!” you snap, yanking your arm free once you're outside in the chill night air. The chill hits you like a slap, the heat of the club’s atmosphere fading behind you as the door slams shut. 

“Seriously?” he spits, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and frustration. “You’re gonna play it like that?” 

You take a step back, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t know what game you're playing at, but I’m not interested. What the hell was that back there? Dragging me out like I’m some kind of... of property?” 

He glares at you, his fists clenched at his sides. “You’re unbelievable.” His voice rises, sharp and cutting. “I ask you a simple question, and you throw that crap at me? What the hell did you think I was supposed to do? Just stand there and pretend like I didn’t care?” 

You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “Pretend like you don’t care? That’s rich coming from you. You don’t get to just waltz in, after all this time, and act like you can demand answers, Lewis. Like you have any right to know what’s going on in my life.” 

“Your brother would be so disappointed in you right now.” His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, the air between you two freezes. The breeze picks up, but the sudden silence makes the world feel too loud.  

“You don’t get to talk about my brother,” you seethe, as Lewis's face hardens, his jaw tensing, but it’s the look in his eyes that hits hardest — it’s a mixture of hurt and fury, both so raw, you almost feel sorry for what you’ve just unleashed. 

“What did you just say?” His voice is low, almost dangerously so, the words slipping through clenched teeth. 

You swallow, but it doesn’t help the sharp edge in your voice. “You heard me. You don’t get to talk about him, you don’t get to fuck up my life and you don’t get to come back here acting like you still have any claim on me or my life.” You’re breathing heavily now, the anger and hurt mixing into a bitter cocktail that you can’t quite swallow – funnily enough, Lewis can smell the cocktail you had earlier. “You left. You made your choice, Lewis. And now you don’t get to barge back in and pretend like I owe you anything.” 

Lewis stands in front of you, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His eyes are dark, his jaw tight as he processes your words. He doesn’t know when the two of you got closer together, he can practically feel the anger radiating off you, “You think I don’t know that?” he spits, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You think I don’t know what I did?” His voice cracks slightly, the vulnerability slipping out before he can stop it. “I fucked up, alright? I fucked up more than you’ll ever understand. We all did – me, Nico, you.” 

“You don’t get to make me feel guilty about this, Lewis. You don’t get to act like I’m the one who fucked everything up.” Your voice shakes, but you keep going, the words coming faster, more bitter. “You kissed me and called it an ‘accident’, a fluke. You fought with Nico every chance you got. I had to pick up the pieces on my own.” 

Lewis flinches at your words, but his anger doesn’t dissipate—if anything, it only sharpens. His hands remain balled into fists at his sides, but there’s something else behind his eyes now, something raw, something almost desperate. “We wouldn’t have worked out,” he mutters, it’s something that he said to himself time and time again to convince himself of it, “I am– was your brother’s friend, you–” 

“You were my friend, too!” You exclaim, your hands swatting at his arms, chest – anywhere you can reach. “You left me, as if I meant nothing to you! You stole my first kiss and shattered my life to pieces on the same day!” You manage to get in some good hits despite Lewis’ attempts to calm you down, and the lump in your throat makes it harder for you to continue talking, “Do you know how many times I wondered if you kissed me just to piss Nico off? Do you know how that feels?” 

“What?” He asks, his voice low. Each hit, each accusation, it stings. But nothing hits harder than the raw emotion in your eyes – hurt, betrayal, and the weight of everything he left behind. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words catch in his throat. “You think I kissed you to get at Nico?” he says finally, his voice quieter now but no less intense. There’s an edge of disbelief, of hurt, as if the idea itself cuts deeper than your accusations. “Do you really think so little of me?” 

You cross your arms tightly over your chest, holding yourself together in the face of his raw honesty. “I don’t know what to think, Lewis. What was I supposed to think back then? You shut me out. You made me feel like it never happened – like I never happened.” 

“You were twenty-three years old,” he points out, “our age difference–” 

“Oh please,” you scoff, pushing at his chest one last time, “you’ve fucked girls younger than that.” 

Lewis flinches at your words, as if they’ve struck a nerve he didn’t even know was exposed. His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. “You don’t get to throw that in my face,” he finally says, his voice low and clipped, tinged with a kind of frustration that feels different from before. 

“Why?” You ask, head cocked to the side. “I can’t comment on you fucking other people, but you can question my actions because I want to fuck–” 

“Say ‘fuck’ one more time and I swear I’ll–” 

“—what, Lewis?” you snap, cutting him off before he can finish his threat. “You’ll what? Walk away again? Pretend this conversation never happened, just like you did last time?” 

His jaw clenches, the muscles in his face tightening as he tries to rein in his emotions. “Don’t push me,” he warns, his voice low and taut, but there’s no real menace in it—only desperation. 

“Oh, I’m pushing?” You laugh bitterly, throwing your hands up. “I’m the one pushing? You’re the one who showed up here, dredging up every memory I’ve spent years trying to bury. Don’t you dare put this on me, Lewis.” 

“You think this is easy for me?” he shoots back, his voice rising. “You think I don’t hate myself for what I did? For what I didn’t do? I’ve lived with this every single day, and you—” 

“Fuck you!” you shout, stepping closer, your finger jabbing into his chest. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck–” 

His hands shoot up, grabbing your wrists – not harshly, but firmly enough to stop your movements. You don’t even fully register how quickly he pushes you against the wall, “You think I ran off and lived some perfect life?” he hisses, his face inches from yours as he inhales deeply. “You think I didn’t miss you every goddamn day? You think I didn’t lie awake at night, wishing I’d had the guts to ask you to stay?” 

His words hit you like a tidal wave, the rawness in his voice leaving you momentarily speechless. For a moment, the anger in his eyes softens, replaced by something else – something that feels far too close to the hope you’ve been trying to suppress. “Well... yeah.” You inwardly cringe how your voice sounds so weak, but Lewis tilts your chin back to make you look at him.  

“Is that so?” He mumbles, thumb caressing your chin as his eyes hungrily take in how your chest moves with each deep breath your inhale and exhale.  

Your breath hitches as his thumb lingers, his gaze dropping to your lips like he’s fighting every instinct to close the distance between you. “Lewis...” you start, but his name comes out softer than you intend, more of a plea than the warning you meant it to be. 

“What?” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous, but there’s a softness to it, an undercurrent of vulnerability that sends your heart racing. “What do you want me to do, huh? Walk away again? Because I can’t. Not this time.” 

You shake your head slightly, but his grip on your chin keeps you from fully looking away. “I don’t know what I want,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “I don’t even know how to feel about you anymore.” 

His eyes darken, and his jaw tightens, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he leans in, his forehead almost brushing yours. “Then let me remind you,” he says, his voice a low rasp. 

Your pulse quickens, every nerve in your body screaming at you to push him away – or pull him closer and he tension between you is suffocating. “Don’t,” you whisper, but your voice wavers, betraying the battle waging inside you. 

“Don’t what?” he asks, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. “Don’t do this?” You don’t answer, your throat too tight, your mind too clouded with memories, anger, and something else you’re not ready to name. He waits, his breath mingling with yours, his patience stretching thin. “Say the word,” he whispers, his voice rough with restraint. “Tell me to stop, and I will. I will let you go back and take him back to your room and do whatever you want.” 

But you don’t say it. You can’t. Because as much as you hate him, as much as you want to scream at him, cry, and push him away... you also want this. Want him. 

And Lewis knows it. 

His hand releases your wrist, sliding down to your waist as his other hand stays on your chin, tilting your face toward him. The kiss that follows isn’t soft, isn’t sweet – it’s desperate, raw, and filled with years of unspoken words. It’s anger and longing, heartbreak, and desire, all crashing together in a way that steals your breath and sends your heart into overdrive. A softer kiss might have been what you wanted, but Lewis knows this is what you need. His body presses against yours, and your hands instinctively find his shoulders, clinging to him as if letting go would leave you falling apart. His lips are warm and insistent, the taste of him intoxicating. Every move, every touch, feels like he’s trying to make up for everything he never said, everything he left behind. 

The kiss deepens, each second unravelling more of the carefully constructed armour you’ve built around your heart. His fingers grip your waist tighter, grounding you even as everything else feels like it’s spinning. You can feel the heat radiating off him with every press of his body against yours. Your mind screams at you to stop, to think, to pull away before you lose yourself completely – but your body betrays you. The years of hurt, anger, and confusion dissolve into the fire burning between you, ignited by a kiss that’s as much a battle as it is a surrender. 

Lewis pulls back just enough to let you breathe, his lips still hovering close, his forehead resting against yours. His breath is hot against your skin, his voice low and rough when he finally speaks. “You still want to go back and fuck your little lover boy?”  

“Who?” You mumble, breathless as a result of the kiss as your eyes become heavy with something you can’t quite describe. 

Lewis smirks, a glint of triumph flashing in his dark eyes. "Exactly," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your waist in slow, deliberate circles. His confidence is maddening, but the heat between you makes it impossible to summon the indignation you’d usually feel. 

You try to muster a response, something sharp and cutting to put him back in his place, but the way his gaze drops to your lips again makes the words dissolve before they even form. “Don’t do that,” you manage, though your voice lacks the conviction you intended. 

“Do what?” he asks innocently, though the rasp in his tone betrays his intent. 

“Act like this changes everything.” 

His smirk falters, replaced by a seriousness that roots you in place. “It doesn’t change everything,” he admits, his voice quieter now, almost tender. “But it changes something. Doesn’t it?” 

Your heart pounds against your ribs as his words sink in. You hate how easily he disarms you, how effortlessly he pulls you back into his orbit no matter how much you’ve tried to escape it. But deep down, you know he’s right. “I hate you,” you whisper, though even you can hear the weakness in your words. 

“I know,” he replies, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing your skin like he’s memorizing every inch of you. “And I hate myself for making you feel that way.” 

The sincerity in his voice cuts through the haze, making your chest tighten. But before you can think about it, you find yourself tugging on the collar of his unbuttoned shirt, pulling him closer to yourself as you mumble, “Kiss me again.” 

Your hands, which moments ago were pushing him away, now find their way into his hair, pulling him closer, as if to anchor yourself in the storm he’s unleashed within you. Lewis doesn’t hold back. His grip tightens on your waist, pulling you flush against him, the wall at your back the only thing keeping you steady. The kiss deepens, his lips moving against yours with an intensity that borders on desperation, as though he’s afraid this moment might slip through his fingers if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. When the need for air becomes undeniable, he pulls back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours. Both of you are breathing heavily, the space between you charged with everything unsaid. “Tell me you didn’t feel that,” he says, his voice hoarse, his thumb brushing against your cheek. 

You can’t answer right away, your heart hammering so loudly in your chest it drowns out any coherent thought. But eventually, you manage to find your voice. “I hate you,” you whisper, but there’s no conviction behind the words. They sound hollow, even to your own ears. 

He lets out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “No, you don’t.” 

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snap, but the edge in your voice falters. 

“I’m not,” he murmurs, his gaze unwavering. “I’m telling you what I see. And I see you... still here. Still looking at me like that.” His hand trails down to your hip, his touch light but grounding. “If you hated me, you would’ve walked away by now.” 

You close your eyes, willing yourself to regain some semblance of control, but it’s impossible with him standing this close, his presence overwhelming. “This doesn’t change anything,” you say, though it feels more like you’re trying to convince yourself than him. 

“Maybe not,” he concedes, his voice softer now. “But it’s a start.” You don’t say anything to agree or refute his statement, and after a brief pause, he straightens, fixies your dress and tries to fix your hair as well. “Come on,” he says, “I’ll take you back.” 

“But, my bag,” you mutter, pushing out your lower lip in a pout when you realise your bag is on the floor. Lewis has to restrain himself when he sees your lips all puffed up because of him. Your voice is whiny, and he realises you’re slurring your words a little bit when you tug on his shirt, “I don’t wanna leave my bag here.” 

Lewis looks at you for a moment, his expression softening as he reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against your skin with the same tenderness he’s shown all night despite all your fighting. With a soft exhale, Lewis bends down to pick up your bag, holding it out to you with the same quiet care. “Don’t make that face,” he murmurs, his voice teasing but laced with something tender. “You really wanna go back to that room, after everything that just happened?” 

You look at him, a mix of confusion and desire swirling inside you. “I don’t know what I want,” you admit, the honesty slipping out before you can stop it. The words feel raw, vulnerable, but there’s something about his presence, the way he’s here, still so close, that makes you feel safe enough to say it. 

Lewis doesn’t say anything right away. Instead, his eyes soften, his thumb grazing the strap of your bag as he watches you closely, as though he’s searching for something in your expression. Finally, he steps closer again, the space between you narrowing once more. “I get it,” he says quietly. “But I’m not letting you go home alone tonight.” 

The words send a shiver down your spine. You want to protest, to push him away, but there’s something in his gaze, the way he’s looking at you now, that makes you second-guess everything you thought you wanted. You hesitate for a moment longer, the weight of your thoughts heavy in the air, but the pull between you is undeniable. It’s the kind of pull that’s magnetic, that doesn’t let you escape even when you try to resist. 

Finally, you nod, the decision feeling both like a surrender and a choice you can’t take back. “Okay,” you murmur, your voice barely audible. “Take me back, then.” 

You don’t even remember getting into his car, but you do remember the smug look he shot at your date – Carl, you think – when he helped you through the club with a firm hand on your back. The villa Lewis rented for his little getaway is entirely what you expect it to be – modern, grand, and secluded enough so no one uninvited would know he is there and bother him. The couch in the living room looks way too inviting and you make a mental note to avoid it for now. Sitting on it might make this whole situation feel too real, too comfortable, and you’re not ready for that. You glance around the space instead, taking in the clean lines of the modern furniture, the polished wood floors, and the sprawling windows that offer an unobstructed view of the moonlit ocean. You walk towards the windows, eyes taking in the view from inside the villa. The ocean stretches out endlessly before you, its surface shimmering under the moonlight. The soft sound of the waves crashing against the shore is faintly audible even through the glass, a gentle hum that seems to echo the turmoil in your chest. 

You wrap your arms around yourself, partly to steady your nerves and partly to shield yourself from the vulnerability creeping up on you. The view is breathtaking, but it does little to quiet the storm of emotions swirling inside you. You faintly hear Lewis calling out your name, but as if you are in a trance, you can’t take your eyes off the view in front of you. His voice calls out to you again, softer this time, closer. “Hey,” he says, and you feel the warmth of his presence before you even see him. Lewis’s reflection appears in the glass, his dark eyes fixed on you as he stands just behind you. 

You finally tear your gaze away from the ocean and turn to face him, your arms still wrapped protectively around yourself. “It’s beautiful,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder might shatter the fragile moment. 

Lewis nods, his expression unreadable as he follows your gaze back to the window. “It is,” he agrees, but there’s a weight to his tone, as if he’s not just talking about the view. His eyes flicker back to you, searching your face. “But it doesn’t seem like it’s helping much.” 

You let out a shaky laugh, more to fill the silence than anything else. “It’s not that simple, Lewis.” 

“Nothing ever is,” he replies, stepping closer until there’s only a breath of space between you. “But I’m here. You don’t have to deal with whatever this is alone.” 

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten, and for a moment, you let yourself lean into it. “I don’t know what to do with you,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “With... us.” 

He exhales deeply, his hand lifting as though he wants to touch you but hesitates. “You don’t have to figure that out right now,” he says, his voice steady. “I just want to make sure you’re okay tonight. That’s all that matters to me.” 

Something about his words, his presence, eases the knot in your chest, if only slightly. “I don’t even know where to start,” you murmur, more to yourself than him. 

“Then don’t,” he says simply, his voice carrying a quiet reassurance. “Just be here. With me.” 

You look up at him, your eyes searching his face for any sign of pretense or ulterior motives, but all you see is the same man who’s managed to undo you with a single glance. “Show me your room.”  

“We don’t have to do that.” His eyebrows furrow as he reaches for your cheek, “That not why I brought you here.” 

“Isn’t it?” You try to joke, but his deep sigh is a sign of his disapproval. “I know that’s not why you brought me here, but it can be one of the reasons you brought me here.” 

“Can it?” He drawls, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.  

“For God’s sake, Lewis.” You sigh, turning your body towards the man standing next to you. “Do I need to beg you for you to fuck me?”  

Lewis’s smirk falters, his expression shifting into something deeper, darker, but undeniably tender. “Don’t,” he murmurs, his voice low and edged with restraint as he steps closer. His hand comes up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “You don’t need to beg me for anything. Not now, not ever.” 

The intensity in his gaze makes your breath catch, and for a moment, the air between you feels electric. “Then fuck me,” you whisper, your voice trembling with equal parts frustration and desire. “If you want me, show me.” 

He closes his eyes briefly, like he’s steadying himself, and when he opens them again, the resolve in his expression takes your breath away. “You think I don’t want you?” he asks, his tone low but firm. “You don’t know how hard it is to hold back, to stop myself from–” He cuts himself off, his jaw tightening as if even admitting it is too much. He reaches for one of your hands, freeing from your hold and places it on his crotch. “See what you do to me?” 

The crude act manages to steal a gasp from you, your eyes widening at how hard he already is. “Lewis,” you mutter, he responds with an affirmative hum, “show me your bedroom.” 

He takes your hand, his grip firm but careful, and leads you down a sleek hallway. The sound of your heels clicking against the polished wood floor echoes softly, a counterpoint to the pounding of your heart. When he pushes open the door to his bedroom, you’re momentarily distracted by how much the space reflects him. The massive bed dominates the room, its crisp white sheets and plush pillows inviting. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the silver glow of the moon, casting the room in a soft, ethereal light. The massive bed dominates the room, its crisp white sheets and plush pillows inviting. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the silver glow of the moon, casting the room in a soft light.  

You walk towards the centre of the room, the corner of your lip trapped between your teeth as you glance at Lewis over your shoulder before you run towards the bed and throw yourself onto the soft bedding. Lewis watches you with an amused smirk as you sprawl across the bed, your carefree motion starkly contrasting the simmering tension in the air. “Comfortable, baby?” he asks, his tone teasing, but the heat in his eyes betrays his calm façade. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows, giving him a challenging look. “Very.” Then you narrow your eyes at him, “But don’t call me baby, I am not your baby.” 

He chuckles, low and throaty, as he steps closer, loosening the top button of his shirt with a deliberate slowness that sends a shiver down your spine. “No?” he muses, stopping at the edge of the bed. His eyes roam over you, drinking in every detail as if committing you to memory. 

Your breath hitches when he leans over, placing a hand on either side of your body, effectively caging you in. His face is so close to yours now that you can feel the warmth of his breath. “I like seeing you like this,” he admits, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Relaxed, it suits you.” 

A flush creeps up your neck at his words, but you refuse to let him have the upper hand completely. Your fingers trail up his chest, over the defined planes of his torso, and then slide beneath the open collar of his shirt. “I could say the same about you,” you reply, your voice soft but loaded with meaning. 

His response is immediate. His lips crash against yours with a fervour that steals your breath, his hands gripping your waist as he pulls you flush against him. The kiss is raw and consuming, years of tension and unspoken words pouring into the connection. When he pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing ragged, he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. 

You smile, your hands slipping down to the waistband of his pants. “Why don’t you show me?” 

He doesn’t need to be told twice. In one smooth motion, he lifts you, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he carries you to the centre of the bed. He chuckles at the sound of your giggling, as he carefully lays you back down on the soft bed. His fingers work diligently to get you out of your dress, pulling the linen garment over your head as Lewis lets his eyes hungrily take you in. When your dress finally falls away, leaving you in nothing but lace and skin, Lewis takes a slow breath, his eyes scanning over your body with a mixture of awe and hunger. “You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice thick with admiration. His fingers trace the curve of your waist, his touch sending shivers of desire through your body. 

You arch slightly into his touch, your breath coming faster, and you meet his gaze with a challenge in your eyes. “Are you going to just gawk at me, or are you going to actually do something?” 

He smirks, a flash of cockiness in his eyes. “Patience,” he teases, but there’s no mistaking the hunger in his voice as he lowers himself over you. With one hand bracing himself above you, his other hand slides down between your bodies, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His touch is slow, almost teasing, and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips as his fingers inch closer to where you need him most. “You like this?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly, his lips just inches from yours. His fingers find the lace of your underwear, his touch deliberate as he pulls it aside and slips a finger inside you, making you gasp. “You’re fucking perfect,” he groans, his lips crashing against yours as he deepens the kiss, his finger working inside you with a slow, steady rhythm. You can feel the heat building between you, the tension in the room thickening with every passing second. 

“Don- don’t say ‘fuck’, Lewis,” you tease him with a small smirk as your breathing becomes deeper, “it’s unbecoming.” 

“You’ll see who will be coming in a few minutes, baby.” He chuckles at the way your expression changes at the mention of the word, his fingers moving in deeper as your let out a disapproving moan, “What? You don’t like it when I call you that?” 

With another dissenting hum and a raise of your hips to meet his hand, you let out a long exhale. “I’m not your baby Lewis, stop calling me that.” With the patience that only he can tolerate, he continues the leisurely movements of his fingers. “I want more, please.” 

Lewis tuts at your words softly, chuckling as he takes in your reactions. “I think you have a very important decision to make here,” he murmurs, his eyes suddenly painted with something more serious, “because once I fuck you, I’m not letting you go.”  

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” The words come out choppy as your breathing gets more erratic, his fingers stubbornly keeping to the slow rhythm he’s set.  

Lewis's gaze sharpens, the challenge in your tone sparking a flame in his dark eyes. “Oh, you’ll see it, alright,” he murmurs, his voice a velvety promise as his hand withdraws briefly, leaving you breathless and aching. Before you can protest, he moves with deliberate precision, tugging his shirt over his head and revealing the expanse of his chest – sculpted, strong, and utterly captivating. “Get on your hands and knees.” 

The command leaves no room for debate, his voice firm but laden with heat. Your heart skips a beat as you meet his gaze, a mixture of defiance and curiosity flickering in your expression. “Bold of you to assume I'll listen,” you quip, though the slight tremor in your voice betrays your anticipation. 

Lewis smirks, leaning down until his lips brush the shell of your ear. “Oh, you'll listen,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “Because you know exactly how patient I can be, but the same can’t be said for you.” 

A shiver runs through you at his words, and before you realize it, you’ve complied, shifting onto your hands and knees in the centre of the bed. You can practically feel his gaze on you, then all of a sudden, you can actually feel him behind you, the bed dipping slightly under his weight as he moves closer. “Good girl,” he says softly, his voice rich with approval, and the way your body reacts to the praise is almost embarrassing. “Oh, my beautiful darling.” His hands skim over your back, tracing the curve of your spine before settling on your hips. The grip is firm, possessive, sending a thrill through you.  

The sounds of him taking himself out of his trousers and pumping cock in his hand is pure debauchery, yet you find yourself pushing your hips back against his thighs. Lewis's low chuckle reverberates through you, a sound full of confidence and desire. His hand tightens on your hips, steadying you as he leans in, his chest brushing against your back. The heat of his skin against yours makes you arch into him instinctively, earning another throaty laugh from him. “You're eager,” he teases, his voice dark and dripping with amusement. “I like you like this.” 

You bite your lip to suppress the needy sound threatening to escape, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Maybe you're just slow,” you retort breathlessly, glancing back at him over your shoulder, a challenging look in your eyes. 

Lewis growls low in his throat, his hands sliding across your back. “Careful,” he warns, though there's a glint of amusement in his dark eyes. “Push me too far, and I won't be nice.” Your breath catches at his words, but before you can form a response, you feel him guiding himself to your entrance, teasingly dragging against you. The deliberate slowness makes your frustration peak, and you push your hips back, a wordless plea for him to stop teasing. 

“Patience, darling,” he murmurs, his voice a husky promise. But even as he says it, he shifts forward, entering you with a deliberate motion that steals the breath from your lungs. 

The sensation is overwhelming, every nerve in your body alight as he holds still for a moment, letting you adjust. “Lewis,” you breathe, your voice shaky with need.  

His hands gently caress over the skin of your back and hips, soothing over the sharp feeling of Lewis easing himself into you in small movements of his hips. “You’re doing so well,” he shushes your whiny moans, his hands tracing your sides, grounding you. “You feel perfect, we’re almost there, darling.”  

“A-almost?” Your voice cuts his words off, voice shaky with need, “It’s not going to fit, Lewis, I can’t-” 

He leans over you, his lips pressing tender kisses along your spine, each one sending a ripple of warmth through you. His voice is a soothing murmur in your ear. “Relax for me, darling. Let me take care of you.” Your breathing steadies under his touch, the initial sting giving way to a fullness that leaves you breathless as he pushes himself fully into you. You arch your back slightly, pressing into him as his hands continue their gentle exploration of your body. The tenderness in his actions contrasts with the raw desire in his voice, creating a heady mix that leaves you yearning for more. “That's it,” he praises, his tone soft but laced with heat. “You’re incredible. See? We made it fit.” 

“I feel so full.” You manage to let out, voice whiny as the moan is ripped from the back of your throat. “It feels so good, Lewis.” 

He begins to move, a slow, steady rhythm that builds gradually, allowing you to feel every inch of him. The friction ignites a fire within you, and you can’t help the soft moans that escape your lips, each sound spurring him on. His grip on your hips tightens, his pace increasing as he finds the perfect rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. “You feel so good,” he groans, his voice low and thick with desire. His hand slides up your spine, tangling in your hair as he pulls you back slightly, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re mine, you know that? Only mine.”  

The moan that comes from you is dissenting, causing Lewis to slide his hand down your throat to use the leverage to pull you up on your knees, pressed against his chest. “No,” you say, hands extending backwards to keep holding onto him in an attempt to keep up with the rhythm in which he is fucking you now. 

His words send a shiver down your spine, the possessiveness in his tone igniting something primal within you. “Say it,” he commands, his voice rough as his movements grow more urgent. “Say you're mine.” 

Your breaths are shallow, punctuated by soft whimpers as you cling to him, trying to keep pace with his movements. The way he pulls you against him, his hand firm on your throat, sends a jolt of heat through your core. His hand is firm around your throat, but not uncomfortable to the point that you can’t breathe. 

“I’m not yours,” you gasp defiantly, your voice trembling with every move he makes.  

Lewis growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your back as his hand tightens slightly around your neck—not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you in place. “We’ll see about that,” he says darkly. 

His hips snap against you harder now, his rhythm relentless as if determined to prove you wrong. The overwhelming sensation leaves you gasping, your fingers clutching at his forearm for balance. His free hand slides down your body, gripping your waist to hold you steady as he drives deeper, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. 

“Still not mine?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. His tone is equal parts teasing and commanding, daring you to resist him. “Still think someone else can fuck you better than I can?” You bite your lip, trying to stifle the moans spilling from you, but the way he moves, the way he claims you, has you crumbling. “Say it,” he repeats, his voice a low growl that echoes through your very core. 

Torn between defiance and surrender, you meet his challenge with a shaky breath. “I’m-” you begin, but he cuts you off with a particularly deep thrust that has you crying out his name instead. 

“Hmm?” Lewis chuckles darkly, clearly enjoying your struggle. His grip on your neck softens slightly as his fingers trace the column of your throat in a soothing gesture. “Come on, baby, just say it.” 

“I’m-” The word catches in your throat as he shifts slightly, the angle of his hips hitting a spot that sends a jolt of pleasure through you. A broken moan escapes your lips instead, and Lewis smirks against your ear, clearly revelling in your unravelling. 

“Say it,” he demands again, his voice low and demanding. His hand slides from your throat to your jaw, turning your face just enough that his lips can brush against the corner of your mouth. The gentleness of the gesture is at odds with the raw intensity of his movements, leaving you breathless. 

“I’m yours,” you finally gasp, the words tumbling out in a mix of desperation and surrender. 

Lewis freezes for a heartbeat, his chest heaving against your back as the admission settles between you. Then, with a triumphant growl, he resumes his pace, his grip on you tightening as if he intends to imprint himself into every fibber of your being. 

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. His lips trail along your shoulder, leaving a path of heat in their wake. “Say it again.” 

“Yours,” you whisper, the word coming easier this time, though the weight of it still sends a shiver through you. 

His rhythm grows more urgent, his body moving with a single-minded purpose as he pushes you both toward the edge. “Never forget it,” he groans, his voice rough and ragged, “now come for me.” You blame the singular cocktail you had three or so hours ago for your compliance to his words, as you feel the wave of pleasure crash over you, obliterating any coherent thought. Your body trembles uncontrollably in his arms, your cries of release echoing in the room as he whispers sweet words of praise in your ear.  

There are a million other things Lewis expects you to say, but you surprise him with a, “I wanna taste you.”  

Lewis's movements still, his breath catching at your unexpected words. He pulls back slightly, his dark eyes locking with yours, filled with surprise and a flicker of intrigue. A slow, mischievous grin spreads across his face. “Oh, is that so?” he murmurs, his voice tinged with amusement and undeniable heat. 

You nod, your cheeks flushing under his intense gaze, but there’s a spark of confidence in your eyes. “I really do,” you say softly, the tremble in your voice betraying both your boldness and your eagerness. 

He studies you for a moment longer, his expression shifting to one of reverence laced with desire. "Well," he says, his voice low and gravelly, "who am I to deny you, darling?" With a gentleness that contrasts the fervour of moments ago, Lewis guides you to sit up, his hands warm and steady as they support you. He shifts to the edge of the bed, leaning back slightly, giving you room and letting you take control. His gaze never leaves you, his dark eyes glinting with anticipation. You settle between his thighs, your hands skimming over his skin, marvelling at the way his muscles tense under your touch. There's a sense of power in the way his body responds to you, in the way his breathing hitches when your lips brush against him. You look up at him, meeting his gaze with a small smile before leaning in. The moment your mouth closes around him, Lewis groans low in his throat, his head falling back as his control begins to slip. His hands find their way to your hair, his touch gentle but firm as he guides you, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. “Just like that,” he praises, his voice rough with pleasure. “You’re perfect, baby.” 

The sound of his voice, the way he says your name like it’s the only thing that matters, spurs you on, and you lose yourself in the moment, intent on unravelling him the way he did you. Your lips move with deliberate intent, your tongue tracing teasing paths that have him groaning your name like a prayer. His fingers tighten in your hair, a gentle tug that makes you glance up at him through your lashes. The sight of him – head tilted back, his lips parted as he struggles for breath, sends a thrill through you. 

“God, you’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice ragged and filled with awe. His eyes find yours, and the intensity of his gaze makes your pulse quicken. “You have no idea what you do to me.” Encouraged by his reaction, you take him deeper, your hands gripping his thighs to steady yourself. The sound he makes is primal, his control slipping further as his hips jerk involuntarily. He tries to hold himself back, but you can tell he’s close to losing himself completely. “Baby,” Lewis rasps, his voice thick with need, “you keep that up, and I won’t last.” You hum around him in response, the vibration pulling another groan from his lips. His hand slips from your hair to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a tender contrast to the raw passion between you. “Look at me,” he whispers, his tone almost pleading. 

You meet his gaze, and the connection between you feels electric. His chest heaves as his breaths come in quick, shallow bursts, his control hanging by a thread. “I’m so close,” he warns, his voice a low growl. “Do you want me to stop?” The shake of your head is all the answer he needs. With a curse under his breath, he lets go, his body shuddering as he gives himself over to the waves of pleasure crashing through him. He holds your gaze the entire time, his grip on you tightening as if anchoring himself to the moment. 

When he calms down, he collapses back against the bed, his chest rising and falling with deep, uneven breaths. You sit back after swallowing, a triumphant smile playing on your lips as you take in the sight of him, utterly undone. “That was fun,” you rasp as you take in the sight in front of you. 

Lewis chuckles softly, the sound low and breathless, as he drapes an arm over his face, trying to regain his composure. “Fun?” he repeats, his voice laced with amusement and lingering satisfaction. He peeks at you from under his arm, his dark eyes glinting with a mixture of adoration and disbelief. “You’ve got no idea what you just did to me.” 

You tilt your head, feigning innocence as you crawl up the bed to lie beside him. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea,” you tease, your voice light but with a hint of pride. 

He turns toward you, propping himself up on one elbow, his free hand reaching out to trace lazy circles along your arm. “You’re dangerous,” he murmurs, his tone soft yet filled with a reverence that makes your cheeks flush. “And I’m completely at your mercy.” 

You laugh, the sound light and genuine, as you nuzzle into his touch. “I think you like it that way,” you reply, your fingers grazing over his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your touch. 

“More than you know,” he admits, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your temple. The tender gesture contrasts with the raw intensity you’d just shared, and it sends a warm flutter through your chest. 

For a moment, silence falls between you, the only sound the soft rustling of the sheets and the slowing rhythm of his breathing. Then Lewis shifts, his arm slipping around your waist to pull you closer. “You know,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your hair, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” 

The weight of his words settles over you, and you glance up at him, your heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his gaze. “Good,” you whisper, a small smile tugging at your lips.  

He smiles back, a look of pure contentment spreading across his face as he tightens his hold on you. “That’s all I get?” 

“We’ll see how you feel after we get home,” you mumble as you run a finger along the curve of his jaw, “you might be bored of me by then.” 

“Home,” Lewis muses quietly, breaking the silence and ignoring your words. His voice is softer now, contemplative. “I like the sound of that.” 

You glance up at him, his face so close that you can see the faintest hint of vulnerability in his expression. It stirs something deep within you – a mix of tenderness and longing that takes you by surprise. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, leaning in to brush your lips against his. “Me too.” 

[ta-ns]

Arguing with Jason Todd

Synopsis: fem reader and Jason getting into an argument no angst just fluff ~ enjoy (approximately 1,170 word count)

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You don’t remember how it started at this point, what you had even argued about before it spiraled out of control because yes Jason is stubborn but so are you. Words were said and eventually you tried to leave, packing things up in a backpack and heading to the bathroom to grab your personal hygiene items which led to an even more upset Jason who was currently blocking the doorway of the bathroom like a damn troll to the secret passageway that demands a price.

His broad shoulders covering the doorway easily, the low moonlight outside casting a glow against his back that honestly makes him that much more horrifying. How criminals and crooked people even try to run from him escapes you because the man looks scary when he’s mad. Those beautiful jade green eyes narrowed into slits, locking onto your own unyielding gaze.

“Move Jason.” The words leave your lips like daggers, daggers dipped in poison with a viscosity rivaling the thickest sludge known to human kind. Jason for his part is unperturbed. “Watch it princess, don’t get smart with me.” His words are the opposite of yours dripping in venom, no his are cold and as sturdy as the Himalayas themselves.

As immovable as Mount Everest. “Fine. Watch this jackass.” And with that as quickly as you can manage you’re ripping open the window of the bathroom and yanking away the screen cover and grabbing the window sill with greedy fingers.

You’re quick but Jason Todd is a hell of a lot quicker, warm and large hands wrapping around your waist and pulling. But that stubbornness running in your veins is not to be taken lightly, no not when you’re like a cat with the curtains caught between your claws. Jason is firm in his pulling but you can tell he’s using hardly any strength out of fear of hurting you.

“Let go Y/N, this isn’t a fight you’re winning.” His voice rumbles through your chest and usually this would be nice but today the anger in you is about as vast as the Pacific Ocean is large. “I’m ganna scream.” You threaten and Jason scoffs at that not believing you in the slightest.

And that is probably what sent you over the edge and so you scream. Screaming bloody murder at the top of your lungs, the sound shrill, high, and bouncing off the bathroom walls and into the quiet of the night. You can’t see but Jason’s eyes widen impossibly and quickly he clamps a thick hand over your lips. “Are you crazy?!”

He bites out as he exerts a bit more strength and shifts positions, pulling himself between you and the window sill and now you’re fighting against his weight which is like fighting a wall but that doesn’t deter you even as your grip wanes and you’re pulled from the window, no you start thrashing and wiggling and flipping and pushing like a fish out of water.

Doing anything and everything to get his grip to loosen, curses and profanities that would make a sailor look like a saint, the murmured words unintelligible against Jason’s hands but the intent and meaning not disturbed.

Jason’s own anger is swirling like a c5 tornado as he expertly manipulates your body gently but firmly to press you against the wall and keeping you from moving with his weight. Pressing against you till all the fights drained from your body. Your chest heaving as you glare at him over his hand over your mouth.

He can feel the way your body goes limp and lax and glares down at you. “If I move my hand and you start screaming and cursing I’m going to gag you babe. Understand?” Of course you nod cause there’s really not much other choices and when his hand is removed the profanities and illicit words are spilling from your beautiful lips but this time in a whole other language and Jason’s hand is right back around your mouth waiting till you settle down again.

His determination is unwavering, a part of him is honestly in admiration over how stubborn you can be sometimes. Your sass like no other sometimes. “Still being a smartass?” He voice is like whiskey as it rumbles through you and he removes his hand, his gaze pointed at you. “Still being a dick?”

You bite back and at this point all Jason can do is gaze at you in almost awe, who knows how much time has passed since you two started almost wrestling and here you are physically exhausted but that fire or rather inferno in your eyes is still roaring. The corners of his lips curl up slightly in amusement.

He can’t help it as he starts softly scoffing. A scoff that turns into a chuckle that somehow makes you start giggling. Both of you egging eachother on till you’re both laughing out loud, laughter bouncing off the walls of the enclosed bathroom, laughing till you can’t even try feeling angry, laughing till there are tears in your eyes and your stomach feels like it just developed abs and he’s leaning into you against the wall not because he’s trying to pin you but simply because he’s laughing so hard.

And so the argument passes away, the embers dying in the breeze of laughter because neither of you remember how it started anyways. You’ll probably argue again in the future because unfortunately you’re both still imperfect people but just like this one it’ll be snuffed out, that’s what love does.

Love bears all things and by golly Jason would rather dive into the depths of that wretched Lazarus pit than let an argument become an impediment in your relationship. And you love him more than enough to swim into the depths of that pit just to pull him out. And that will prove true time and time again.

[dragoniangirl]

I would like to share my experience with a similar medication.

My doctor has been hyper-fixated on my weight for years. Every medical issue or concern I have he links it back to my weight. When I told him a while back about my concerns about my focus issues, he said it was because I had sleep apnea which meant I wasn't getting enough oxygen to my brain when I slept. And I had sleep apnea because I was fat. Not in those exact words but it was implied.

For the longest time he kept trying to push the bariatric surgery on me. Except I was apparently supposed to loose 60lbs before they'd even do a consultation for the surgery. If I was capable of loosing that much weight, I wouldn't need the surgery. But I digress. I was very adamant. I didn't want to get surgery to loose weight. (It also helped that I had a friend who is a nurse and when I mentioned the surgery she was appalled he would even suggest it to someone like me as I'm not even in the 300lb range but he still claims I'm "morbidly obese")

He suggested I do portion control and weight my food. I did and the next time I went in to see him and I told him that's what I was doing he goes "No no. You need to be counting your calories." By that point, I decided I wasn't going to listen to any of his advice about my weight as it just kept changing no matter what I did.

During one of my more recent visits (winter of 2023 I believe) he suggested Mounjaro (which is a drug similar to Ozempic as it's meant for people with type-II diabetes). He said it would work as an appetite suppressant. That I wouldn't feel as hungry and thus I wouldn't eat as much. He had a trial kit which had five injections in it so I wouldn't have to pay anything. I figured, fine. We'll give it a try. It was a once a week injection. I could handle that. We did the first injection there so they could show me how it was done and then I'd just have to do it again on the same day for the next couple weeks. Then I'd come back and we'd see the results. He did warn me one of the side effects would be nausea. "You'll feel nauseous but that's normal with this drug." he assured me. The way he explained it, he made it sound tame. I figured I could handle that.

I was very wrong.

Day one: Didn't feel any different but I figured it was just the first day and I wouldn't be feeling the effects right away.

Day two: Woke up for work feeling a little sick. Thought I'd be okay. Had a light breakfast then went into work. Spent the majority of the day running back and forth to the bathroom being violently sick. Couldn't keep anything down.

Day three: Same as before. Felt super nauseous. Had terrible cramps like my stomach was turning in on itself. Could barely keep anything down.

Day four: Felt slightly better. Not as sick but still felt on the verge of throwing up every time I ate more than a sandwich.

Day five: Better than day before. Could eat a little more without fear of throwing up. Cramps were still there.

Day six: Finally felt fine. No longer felt nauseous and could eat more.

Day seven: Still fine. Figured the nausea was because my body was just getting used to the drug. Now that I had experienced all that, I'd be okay.

Day eight: Injection day. Felt fine the whole day. Was feeling hopeful.

Day nine: I was wrong.

Day ten: Was sicker than I'd been the previous week. Could barely function at work.

Day eleven: When leaving for work, threw up on the way to the car and noticed I'd just thrown up the other medication I was on. Decided enough was enough.

I called the doctor's office to explain what was going on and if I could stop taking the medication. (I know better than to stop a medication cold turkey) They gave me the go ahead and scheduled an appointment that week. I go in and the first thing they do is weight me. When I see the doctor he's all excited because "You lost seven pounds!"

In two weeks.

I told him that was because I wasn't eating at all. And anything I was eating was being thrown up. I told him I didn't think it was healthy to loose that much weight in that short amount of time. He looked disappointed but agreed to take me off, marking in my medical chart that I was "allergic" to Mounjaro.

The next scheduled appointment I had with him, he once again started on my weight. Said it was a shame I had such a reaction to the Mounjaro because it worked so well. I got very upset with him about that. Yelled that "of course it worked well! It essentially gave me bulimia!"

So yeah. Unless you actually need this medication to treat the condition it's meant to treat (ie Type-II Diabetes) don't fucking take it. It sickens me that actual medical doctors are recommending this to their patients.

I have been debating sharing this for some time, but with the new year weight loss ads amping up, I feel it's something I have to say. I'm worried for people's health.

Unless you've been living under a rock, you probably already know about people taking the diabetic drug ozempic for weight loss. You've probably heard the debates about the ethics of taking needed drugs away from diabetes patients and maybe even the side effect of "ozempic face." However, there is one side effect of taking these drugs that, in my opinion, people are not being warned about.

If you carefully pay attention to the television ads, you will hear them mention "pancreatitis" as a possible side effect. If you're like me a decade ago, that word probably means nothing to you. Let me warn you, however, it is no minor thing. My husband suffered from chronic pancreatitis for five agonizing years. The pain is beyond comprehension. Doctors who specialize in the pancreas describe it as the worst pain a human can endure. There is no actual cure. Little is understood about the disease, so treatment is difficult. Doctors who understand it are few and far between. It took my husband forever to get diagnosed. He went through multiple surgeries and procedures, but nothing worked. He had to go on an extremely limiting diet. If he varied from it in any way, he would have an attack. The only way to recover from an attack was to not eat at all for days, then slowly add in broth and jello. Did he lose weight? Yes. As a matter of fact, one day he stepped out of the shower, and I burst into tears at the sight of him. He was skin and bones - I could count every rib. Was it worth it to be thin? If you even ask that question, I'm concerned for your mental health.

They couldn't figure out exactly why my husband got pancreatitis. At that time, they thought only alcoholics and drug addicts got pancreatitis. This made it difficult to get compassionate medical care, unfortunately. Now they know that prescription medication (particularly diabetic medication) and high cholesterol can also cause it. Then there is another group - where they just don't know. But you better believe I would hesitate to take any medication that could cause pancreatitis. I would weigh my options carefully to assess if it was worth the risk. In my opinion, weight loss is not worth that risk.

My concern has been heightened seeing the Hers commercials for these drugs (under different names, but rest assured, it is the same thing). These commercials brag that you can get these drugs from Hers with just a simple virtual call, no questions asked. I wonder if people are fully aware of the risks of these drugs. I also wonder if we even know all of the risks yet. I also fear that the culture around these drugs could develop into an us vs. them mentality. That if it's so easy to be thin, why wouldn't you be? And some are getting dangerously thin on these drugs.

I know some diabetics who are on these drugs, and necessarily so. They tell me that it causes nausea when they eat. That's why they don't eat much. Again, that doesn't sound like a pleasant way to live. If you need it to regulate your blood sugar, that's one thing. But if you don't? Why would you do this to yourself?

My husband is now healed of pancreatitis. It was a miracle. You may not believe in that sort of thing, but I'm telling you, there is no other explanation. We had exhausted every medical solution, then the pandemic hit. We were concerned because hospitals were only taking life or death cases. What if he had a bad attack and needed an iv of pain meds? What would we do? Weeks passed - no pain. A month passed - no pain. Six weeks passed - no pain. He decided to grill a steak - something he hadn't been able to even take a nibble of in 5 years. I watched him take a bite, holding my breath. Nothing. He ate the whole thing. No pain. Five years later, still no pain. The doctors can't explain it, either.

So our story has a happy ending. Not everyone else's does. I hope people take the time to read this. If you do, please, please share it. I don't want anyone suffering needlessly.