#so please don't start a thread using this

[alltoolewis]

Sports car- Lewis Hamilton

GIF by solgif

summary- Since joining Ferrari, Lewis has grown close to all members of the Leclerc family including Charles's sister. Despite knowing she's forbidden, he offers to take her to the gala where the tensions begin to rise in his sports car...

I LOVE THIS HOWEVER IT IS VERY STEAMY!!! PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION!!!

You’ve always lived in someone else’s shadow.

Not because you were invisible — quite the opposite. As Charles Leclerc’s younger sister, you became part of the Leclerc legacy before you even understood what that meant. In Monaco, people knew your last name before they knew your first. At family dinners, relatives discussed your future in terms of your brother’s next podium. Even at school, teachers smiled at you like they expected greatness — or at least headlines.

You didn’t hate it. You loved Charles. But you learned early that silence was easier than explaining who you were beneath the family name.

So you built a career on the sidelines. Quietly brilliant. A digital strategist for Formula 1 media — someone who belonged in the paddock without drawing attention. You were everywhere and nowhere, a lens behind the lens. And that’s exactly how you preferred it.

Until him.

Lewis Hamilton doesn’t enter rooms. He arrives. He doesn’t speak; he commands attention. And somehow, in a sport obsessed with youth and fresh talent, he still walks like he owns every corner of every track.

You never intended to notice him. Older. Untouchable. Far too famous. But notice him you did — and that changed everything.

It started with a glance across a crowded paddock. A glance that held weight. Electricity. The kind of look that rewrites personal histories in a single breath. He didn't smile. Didn't wave. Just saw you — really saw you — in a way no one ever had before. Not as someone's sister. Not as a background figure. But as you.

The first time you actually spoke was three weeks later. You were rushing through the Ferrari garage with a tablet full of content schedules, head down, focused on deadlines. You didn't see him until you collided — shoulder to chest, your tablet clattering to the concrete.

"Shit, sorry—" You dropped to your knees, scrambling for the device.

"Easy." His voice was lower than you expected. Warmer. He crouched beside you, picking up the tablet before you could reach it. "No damage done."

You looked up. Met his eyes properly for the first time. They were darker in person, more intense. The kind of brown that held secrets.

"Thanks." You reached for the tablet, but he didn't immediately hand it over.

"You're Charles's sister." Not a question. A statement of fact, delivered without the usual reverence people used when connecting you to your brother.

"Guilty." You tried for lightness, but it came out flat.

"I'm Lewis."

As if you didn't know. As if everyone in this garage — in this sport — didn't know exactly who he was. But something in the way he said it made it feel like an introduction between equals. Like he was offering you his name, not his reputation.

"I know who you are." You finally took the tablet from his hands, fingers brushing briefly. "Everyone knows who you are."

"But I don't know who you are." He stood, extending a hand to help you up. "Beyond the obvious family connection."

You hesitated. Took his hand. Let him pull you to your feet.

"I'm nobody important."

"I doubt that." His smile was slight, knowing. "Nobody unimportant moves through this world the way you do."

That moment — that single, electric moment — became the first thread in a tapestry you never expected to weave. You didn't know then how profoundly Lewis Hamilton would unravel everything you thought you understood about yourself, about visibility, about the quiet spaces you'd carved so carefully between the headlines.

You didn't fall. Not immediately. Not obviously. But something shifted in that moment — a tectonic realignment of your carefully constructed universe. You felt it in the way your pulse quickened, in the subtle electricity that lingered where his hand had touched yours. This was different. This was unexpected. This was the beginning of something that would rewrite every narrative you'd ever told yourself about who you were supposed to be.

And that it did...

The connection deepened in stolen moments. Brief conversations in empty corridors. Shared glances across crowded press conferences. Text messages that started professional and slowly became personal. Lewis had a way of asking questions that made you forget to guard your answers — about your work, your thoughts on the sport, your dreams that had nothing to do with racing.

You found yourself looking forward to race weekends not for Charles's results, but for the possibility of running into Lewis. The way he remembered details from conversations weeks old. How he listened when you spoke, really listened, like your words mattered more than the noise surrounding them.

"You see things differently," he told you one evening after a particularly chaotic qualifying session. You were both lingering in the paddock long after most people had left, the setting sun casting everything in golden light. "You notice what others miss."

"Occupational hazard," you deflected, but your heart was racing.

"No." He stepped closer, close enough that you could smell his cologne, see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes. "It's who you are."

The almost-kiss happened in Singapore. Rain had delayed practice, and you'd found shelter in an empty hospitality suite. Lewis appeared like he always did — as if the universe had conspired to put him exactly where you needed him to be. The conversation flowed like wine, intimate and intoxicating. When he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, you didn't pull away.

"We shouldn't," you whispered, even as you leaned into his touch.

"I know," he replied, but neither of you moved.

The space between you crackled with possibility. With want. With everything you'd been denying for months. But as his thumb traced your cheekbone, reality crashed back. The cameras. The headlines. The inevitable comparisons. Lewis Hamilton's Mystery Woman. Charles Leclerc's Sister in Secret Romance.

You stepped back.

"I can't be another story, Lewis. I can't be the girl who fell for the famous driver. I won't disappear into someone else's narrative again."

The hurt in his eyes was immediate, but so was the understanding. He'd watched you navigate this world, seen how carefully you'd constructed your independence. He knew what you were protecting.

"I would never ask you to disappear," he said quietly.

"You wouldn't have to ask. It would just happen." Your voice cracked slightly. "I've spent my whole life being someone's sister. I won't spend the rest of it being someone's secret."

So you pulled back. Created distance. Kept your conversations professional, your glances brief. But the want remained, simmering beneath every interaction. The way his jaw tightened when you laughed at another driver's joke. How your breath caught when he said your name. The careful space you both maintained, electric with everything you weren't allowing yourselves to feel.

You were falling — had already fallen — but you refused to let yourself land.

The Ferrari gala changed everything.

You'd managed three weeks of careful distance. Three weeks of professional smiles and conversations that never strayed beyond work. Three weeks of pretending your heart didn't skip when Lewis entered a room. It was working — or at least, you'd convinced yourself it was working.

But Monaco's grandest hotel had other plans.

"What do you mean there's no room?" Charles frowned at his phone, Alex beside him looking equally confused. "We booked the car service weeks ago."

You stood in the hotel lobby, evening gown already on, makeup perfect, watching your carefully laid plans dissolve. The Ferrari gala was in an hour. The venue was twenty minutes away. And apparently, the luxury car service had overbooked.

"They can send another car in forty-five minutes," Charles continued, running a hand through his hair. "But we'll be late. Really late."

"Go without me." You forced a smile, already calculating backup options. "I'll figure something out."

"Absolutely not." Alex shook her head. "We're not leaving you behind."

"I could call—"

"No need."

The voice came from behind you, warm and familiar. You turned to find Lewis approaching, car keys spinning around his finger. He looked devastating in his tuxedo — all sharp lines and confident elegance. Your carefully constructed composure wavered.

"Problem solved," he continued, those dark eyes finding yours. "I was heading there anyway."

Charles looked between you and Lewis, something unreadable flickering across his face. "You sure? We don't want to impose."

"No imposition." Lewis's smile was easy, casual. But when he looked at you, there was something deeper. A question. An invitation. "What do you say?"

You should have said no. Should have waited for the delayed car service, shown up fashionably late rather than risk twenty minutes alone with Lewis Hamilton in an enclosed space. Should have protected the distance you'd worked so hard to maintain.

Instead, you heard yourself saying, "That would be great. Thank you."

Charles kissed your cheek, whispered "have fun" in your ear with a knowing look that made your stomach flip. Alex squeezed your hand. And then they were gone, leaving you alone with Lewis in the marble lobby.

"Shall we?" He offered his arm, perfectly gentlemanly.

You took it, trying to ignore the way your skin burned where you touched him.

The car was exactly what you'd expected — sleek, expensive, powerful. A reflection of its owner. Lewis held the passenger door open, his hand briefly touching the small of your back as you settled into the leather seat. The contact lasted less than a second, but it sent electricity shooting up your spine.

He slid into the driver's seat with fluid grace, the engine purring to life. The first few minutes passed in careful silence, Monaco's glittering streets sliding past the windows. You focused on the view, on anything except the way Lewis's hands looked on the steering wheel, the subtle scent of his cologne filling the small space.

"You look beautiful tonight," he said quietly, eyes still on the road.

Your breath caught. "Lewis—"

"I know." His voice was rough. "I know we agreed to keep things professional. But sitting here, with you looking like that..." He glanced at you briefly, and the want in his eyes made your heart race. "I'm only human."

The car slowed at a red light. In the sudden stillness, the tension became unbearable. You could feel him looking at you, could sense the careful control he was maintaining. When you finally met his gaze, the air between you crackled.

"This is exactly what I was afraid of," you whispered.

"What? That we'd be alone together? That I'd tell you how stunning you look? That I'd want to pull over and kiss you until we both forget why we're fighting this?"

Your pulse thundered. "Yes."

The light turned green. Lewis accelerated smoothly, but his knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

"Then we're both afraid of the same thing," he said.

The rest of the drive passed in charged silence, broken only by the occasional comment that danced dangerously close to flirtation. When Lewis mentioned how the dress brought out your eyes, you countered by telling him his tuxedo was "almost unfairly handsome." Each exchange felt like a small rebellion against your own rules.

By the time you arrived at the venue, the tension had wound so tight you could barely breathe.

The Ferrari gala was everything you'd expected — opulent, crowded, buzzing with the energy of Monaco's elite mixed with Formula 1's biggest names. You found your assigned table quickly, settling between Charles and your parents, grateful for the familiar buffer of family conversation.

But across the room, at the drivers' table, Lewis Hamilton was impossible to ignore.

It started innocently enough. A glance in his direction during the welcome speech. He happened to be looking back, and for a moment, the crowded ballroom faded away. He raised his champagne glass slightly — a subtle toast meant only for you. You looked away quickly, cheeks warming.

Ten minutes later, during the appetizer course, you caught him watching you again. This time, when your eyes met, he smiled. Not the polished, public smile he wore for cameras, but something private. Intimate. The kind of smile that made your stomach flutter and your resolve weaken.

"You okay?" Charles leaned over, following your gaze. "You seem distracted."

"Fine," you lied, forcing your attention back to your plate. "Just tired."

But it was impossible to stay focused on your family's conversation when Lewis kept drawing your attention like a magnet. When he laughed at something Lando said, you found yourself watching the way his whole face lit up. When he stood to greet someone, you noticed how the tuxedo fit perfectly across his shoulders. When he ran a hand through his hair, you remembered how it felt when those same fingers had brushed your cheek in Singapore.

The worst part was that he seemed equally distracted. You'd catch him looking during your father's story about Monaco's early racing days. During your mother's animated discussion of charity work. During Charles's analysis of the upcoming race weekend. Every time your eyes met, the air seemed to thin, the noise of the gala fading to background static.

"Excuse me," you murmured during the main course, needing air, needing space, needing to escape the magnetic pull of Lewis's attention. "I'll be right back."

You made your way toward the terrace, weaving through tables of glamorous guests, but you could feel his eyes following your movement across the room.

The terrace was quiet, cool marble beneath your heels, the Monaco night spread out like a glittering canvas. You knew he would follow. It wasn't a question of if, but when.

Three minutes later, the glass door slid open behind you. No hesitation. No pretense. Just Lewis, closing the distance between you with the same deliberate grace he brought to everything.

"You're running," he said. Not an accusation but an observation.

"Always," you replied, turning to face him. The Monaco night framed him perfectly — city lights glinting off his skin, the sharp lines of his tuxedo cutting a silhouette that was equal parts danger and desire. "Running is what I do best."

He took another step closer. Close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the subtle notes of his cologne. Close enough that one more step would mean touching. "Not always," he said softly. "Sometimes you stand perfectly still. And those are the moments that change everything."

He was right. And in that moment, with Monaco's nighttime skyline as witness, you knew you were about to make a choice that would rewrite everything.

Your hand reached out — almost involuntarily — and touched the lapel of his tuxedo. Not pushing away. Not pulling closer. Just contact. Connection. A point of no return.

"Lewis—" your voice was barely a whisper, "—we can't."

But even as you said it, you both knew the word "can't" had lost all meaning. The space between wanting and doing had collapsed, and there was nothing left but pure, electric possibility.

His hand covered yours where it rested against his chest. Not grabbing. Not demanding. Simply acknowledging the electricity between your skin.

"Watch me," he said, and then his mouth was on yours.

The kiss was everything you'd imagined and nothing you'd prepared for. Soft at first, tentative, like he was asking permission even as he took it. But when you didn't pull away — when you leaned into him instead — it deepened. His lips moved against yours with practiced confidence, tasting like champagne and promises you weren't sure you could keep.

Your free hand found the back of his neck, fingers threading through the short hair at his nape. He made a sound — low, appreciative — that sent heat spiraling through your chest. His other hand settled at your waist, thumb tracing small circles through the silk of your dress.

When he pulled back, just enough to breathe, his forehead rested against yours. "I've been thinking about doing that for months," he murmured, voice rough with want.

"Lewis." Your pulse was racing, every nerve ending alive. "We can't do this here. Anyone could see—"

"My room," he said immediately, the words barely more than breath against your lips. "Come back with me. Please."

The please undid you. Not a demand but a request, vulnerable in its honesty. You could see the want in his eyes, but also the question. The choice was entirely yours.

You thought about the gala still happening inside. About Charles and your parents at the table, probably wondering where you'd gone. About the careful distance you'd maintained, the professional boundaries you'd constructed.

Then Lewis's thumb brushed across your lower lip, and all those careful considerations scattered like leaves in the wind.

"I can't," you said, stepping back from his touch. The words felt like glass in your throat. "Not your room. Not tonight."

The disappointment that flickered across Lewis's face was immediate and devastating. His hand dropped from your waist, jaw tightening as he processed your rejection. For a moment, he looked like he might argue, might push back against your boundaries the way he pushed his car to its limits.

Instead, he nodded once, sharp and final. "Of course. I shouldn't have—"

"Wait." The word escaped before you could stop it. Lewis paused, hope and wariness warring in his expression. You glanced back toward the gala, toward the golden light spilling from the ballroom windows, then back to him. "Your car."

His eyebrows rose slightly. "My car?"

"You're not leaving the gala completely. Not with so much time left." Your heart hammered against your ribs as you spoke, each word a small rebellion against your better judgment. "But we could... we could have privacy. Just for a few minutes."

Understanding dawned in his eyes, followed immediately by something darker, hungrier. "Are you sure?"

You weren't sure of anything except the way your body responded to his proximity, the way every careful rule you'd constructed seemed meaningless when he looked at you like that.

"Lead the way," you whispered.

The walk back through the gala required careful choreography. Lewis left first, weaving through tables with the easy confidence of someone simply making social rounds. You waited three minutes — counting each second — before following a different path toward the exit.

You almost made it undetected.

"Going somewhere interesting?"

Alex's voice stopped you cold just steps from the terrace doors. She was standing near the bar, champagne flute in hand, eyebrow arched in that knowing way that meant you were absolutely caught.

Your heart hammered as you glanced around, confirming no one else was paying attention. Charles was deep in conversation with Ferrari executives. Your parents were laughing at something with the Binotto family. The coast was clear except for Alex's sharp, amused gaze.

You pressed a finger to your lips — the universal gesture for please keep this between us — and gave her your most pleading look.

Alex's smile was pure mischief. She raised her champagne glass in a mock toast, mouthed "have fun," and turned back to the bar as if nothing had happened.

Relief flooded through you as you slipped out into the Monaco night, but it was quickly replaced by anticipation. Lewis was waiting by the valet stand, car keys already in hand, looking like sin in a perfectly tailored tuxedo.

"Ready?" he asked, and the single word carried the weight of everything you were about to cross.

You nodded, not trusting your voice, and followed him into the night.

The valet brought Lewis's car around with practiced efficiency, the sleek machine purring in the Monaco night. Lewis moved to the passenger side, opening your door with the same careful attention he'd shown all evening. But as you approached the car, reality crashed over you like a cold wave.

"This is insane," you breathed, stopping just short of the open door. "Lewis, I can't— we can't do this. Charles trusts me. He trusts you. And here I am, sneaking around behind his back like some kind of—"

"Hey." Lewis's voice was gentle but firm as he stepped closer. "Look at me."

But you couldn't stop the words tumbling out, months of suppressed anxiety finally finding their voice. "He's going to find out. Someone's going to see us, or Alex is going to say something, or—God, what am I even doing? This is so disrespectful to him, to our family, to—"

Lewis's hands found your face, thumbs brushing across your cheekbones as he tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. "Breathe," he said softly.

"I am breathing, I'm just—"

He kissed you. Soft, brief, just enough to quiet the spiral of panic in your chest. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Charles loves you. More than racing, more than winning, more than anything in this world. And you know what he wants most for you?" Lewis's thumb traced along your jaw. "He wants you to be happy. To find someone who sees how extraordinary you are."

"But—"

"No buts." His smile was tender, understanding. "We're not betraying anyone by feeling this. We're not disrespecting Charles by wanting each other. We're just... human."

His hands slid down to yours, fingers intertwining. "If you want to go back inside, we go back inside. If you want me to drive you home and pretend this never happened, I'll do that too. But don't run because you're afraid of what other people might think. Run because it's what you want."

The choice hung between you, suspended in the warm Monaco air. Lewis waited, patient and sure, while you wrestled with every careful boundary you'd ever constructed.

Finally, you stepped toward the car. "Help me in?"

His smile was radiant as he guided you into the passenger seat, his hand warm and steady at your elbow. The leather was soft against your skin, the interior intimate and shadowed. When Lewis closed the door and walked around to the driver's side, you felt the last of your resistance crumble.

This was happening. You were letting it happen.

And for the first time in months, that felt exactly right.

Lewis started the engine but didn't drive anywhere. Instead, he found a secluded spot in the venues's private parking area, tucked between shadows where the valet lights couldn't reach. The sudden quiet felt intimate, charged with possibility.

"Come here," he said softly, and you found yourself sliding across the leather seat until you were close enough to feel his warmth.

His first kiss was feather-light, barely a whisper against your lips. Testing. Asking permission. When you didn't pull away, he kissed you again, deeper this time, his hand cupping your cheek with reverent gentleness.

"You're trembling," he murmured against your mouth.

"I'm nervous," you admitted, the honesty surprising you both.

"We don't have to—"

"I want to." The words came out stronger than you felt. "I want this. I want you."

Something shifted in his expression then, heat replacing the careful tenderness. His next kiss was hungrier, more demanding, and you met it with equal fervor. Your hands found the lapels of his tuxedo, pulling him closer, and he responded by threading his fingers through your hair.

"God, you're beautiful," he breathed against your neck, pressing soft kisses along your collarbone. "I've wanted this for so long."

The careful control you'd maintained for months began to fracture. Your usual composure, your measured responses, your need to be perfect and untouchable — it all started to dissolve under his touch. When his lips found that sensitive spot just below your ear, you made a sound you'd never made before, breathy and wanting.

"Lewis," you gasped, and his name on your lips seemed to undo something in him too.

"Tell me what you want," he said, voice rough with desire.

The question hung between you, heavy with implication. This was your moment to retreat, to pull back into the safe space of almost-but-not-quite. Instead, you surprised yourself by meeting his gaze directly, letting him see the want you'd been hiding for months.

"I want you to stop treating me like I might break," you said, voice steadier than you felt. "I want you to stop being so careful with me."

His eyes darkened at your words, pupils dilating in the dim light. "You sure about that?"

Instead of answering with words, you kissed him with a passion that had been building for months, pouring all your suppressed desire into the contact. Your teeth caught his lower lip, and he groaned low in his throat, the sound sending heat spiraling through your chest.

This time, when his hands moved to your waist, there was nothing gentle about it. His grip was firm, possessive, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, rapid and strong, matching the frantic rhythm of your own pulse.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he said against your lips, and for the first time, you let yourself believe it might be true.

Your hands moved to his bow tie, fingers working at the silk knot with surprising steadiness despite the way your pulse hammered. The fabric came loose under your touch, and Lewis's breath hitched as you pulled it free, letting it fall forgotten to the car floor.

"Back seat," he said, voice rough with want, and you didn't hesitate.

The transition was clumsy, graceless in the way that real desire always is. Your dress caught on the gear shift, his knee knocked against the steering wheel, and you both laughed breathlessly at the awkwardness of it all. But then you were in the spacious back seat, and the laughter died as the reality of what was happening settled over you both.

Lewis's jacket came off first, your hands pushing it from his shoulders while he worked at the tiny buttons running down your spine. Each one he freed sent a shiver through you, his knuckles brushing against your skin as the silk loosened.

"You're sure?" he asked one more time, even as his fingers traced the newly exposed line of your back.

"Stop asking," you breathed, reaching for his shirt. "I'm sure."

The crisp white cotton parted under your hands, revealing the lean muscle beneath. You'd seen him shirtless in countless photos, magazine covers, social media posts — but this was different. This was intimate, private, yours to touch and explore without the barrier of cameras or crowds.

His skin was warm under your palms, and when you pressed your lips to his collarbone, he made a sound that sent heat pooling low in your belly. The careful control he'd maintained all evening was finally cracking, and you could see it in the way his hands shook slightly as they found the zipper of your dress.

"Beautiful," he murmured as the silk pooled around your waist, his eyes drinking in the sight of you in the dim light. "So fucking beautiful."

The reverence in his voice made you bold. You arched into his touch as his hands mapped the newly revealed skin, your own fingers working at his belt with determined focus. The leather came free, and Lewis groaned when your hand brushed against him through the fabric of his trousers.

"Christ," he breathed, head falling back against the leather seat. "You're going to kill me."

But his hands were moving too, sliding the dress down your hips until it joined the growing pile of expensive fabric on the car floor. The cool air against your heated skin made you gasp, and Lewis took advantage of your parted lips to kiss you again, deeper this time, hungrier.

You were both breathing hard now, the windows beginning to fog from the heat you were generating. Somewhere in the distance, you could hear the faint sounds of the gala continuing, but it felt like another world entirely. Here, in the intimate darkness of Lewis's car, there was nothing but want and touch and the electric connection that had been building between you for months.

His mouth moved lower, trailing hot kisses down the column of your throat. You arched beneath him as he found the sensitive hollow at the base of your neck, his tongue flicking against your pulse point in a way that made you gasp his name.

"So responsive," he murmured against your skin, the vibration of his voice sending shivers through you.

When his lips moved lower still, lavishing attention on the swell of your breasts, your hands tangled in his hair, holding him close. He took his time, worshipping you with a patience that bordered on torturous, his mouth and tongue drawing sounds from you that you'd never made before.

"Lewis, please—" you breathed, not even sure what you were asking for.

But he seemed to know. His kisses moved lower, across your ribs, your stomach, each press of his lips like a brand against your heated skin. When he settled between your thighs, his dark eyes met yours in the dim light.

"Still sure?" he asked, though his hands were already sliding up your legs, thumbs tracing maddening circles on your inner thighs.

You could only nod, words lost to the anticipation building in your chest. And then his mouth was on you, and coherent thought became impossible.

The first touch of his tongue made you cry out, your back arching off the leather seat. He worked you with the same focused intensity he brought to everything else, learning what made you gasp, what made you writhe, what made you forget your own name.

"God, you taste incredible," he said against you, the words sending vibrations through your core that made you tremble.

Your hands fisted in his hair as he continued his ministrations, building you higher and higher until you were balanced on the edge of something overwhelming. The sounds you were making would have embarrassed you if you'd been capable of caring about anything beyond the sensation of his mouth on you.

Your thighs trembled against his shoulders as he found a rhythm that had you gasping his name like a prayer. The careful, methodical way he explored you — tongue tracing patterns that made your vision blur — spoke to the same precision he brought to the track. Every flick, every gentle suction, every moment where he pulled back just enough to make you whimper in protest.

"Don't stop," you managed, voice breaking on the words. "Please don't—"

He hummed against you in response, the vibration making your hips buck involuntarily. His hands moved to hold you steady, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your thighs with just enough pressure to ground you even as he sent you spiraling higher.

The tension coiled tighter in your belly, every nerve ending alive and singing under his attention. You could feel yourself getting close, that familiar tightening that promised release, and Lewis seemed to sense it too. His pace intensified, tongue working against you with devastating accuracy.

"That's it," he murmured, pulling back just long enough to speak before diving back in with renewed focus. "Let go for me."

The command in his voice, rough with his own desire, was what finally pushed you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed through you like a wave, back arching as you cried out his name into the heated air of the car. He worked you through it, gentling his touch as the aftershocks rolled through your body, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs as you came back down.

When he finally lifted his head, his lips were glistening, eyes dark with satisfaction and want. "You're incredible," he said, voice rough as he kissed his way back up your body.

You pulled him up to you, tasting yourself on his lips as you kissed him deeply, your hands already reaching for the waistband of his trousers. "Your turn," you breathed against his mouth.

You kissed your way down his body, tongue tracing the intricate ink that decorated his skin. Each tattoo told a story — victories, losses, moments that had shaped him into the man beneath you now. Your lips followed the compass rose on his chest, the script along his ribs, the geometric patterns that wound around his bicep.

"Fuck," he breathed as your mouth moved lower, his hands tangling in your hair. "You don't have to—"

But you wanted to. Wanted to worship him the way he'd worshipped you, wanted to draw those same desperate sounds from his lips. When you finally took him in your mouth, his reaction was immediate and devastating.

"Christ," he gasped, head falling back against the seat. "Your mouth—"

You worked him slowly at first, learning what made him groan, what made his hips buck involuntarily. He was generous with his praise, voice rough with pleasure as he told you how good you felt, how perfect you were, how long he'd dreamed of this moment.

The power of reducing someone so controlled, so commanding, to breathless gasps and whispered pleas was intoxicating. You could feel him getting close, his breathing ragged, muscles tense beneath your hands.

"Stop," he said suddenly, tugging gently at your hair. "I want to be inside you when I come."

The raw honesty in his voice made heat pool low in your belly all over again. You moved back up his body, straddling his hips, both of you breathing hard in the steamy confines of the car.

"Are you sure?" he asked, hands settling on your waist as you positioned yourself above him.

Instead of answering with words, you sank down slowly, taking him inch by inch until you were fully seated in his lap. The stretch was perfect, overwhelming, exactly what you'd been craving without even knowing it.

"God," you breathed, head falling forward to rest against his shoulder as you adjusted to the feeling of him inside you.

His hands roamed your back, soothing and possessive at once. "You feel incredible," he murmured against your ear. "So perfect."

When you finally began to move, it was with a rhythm that built slowly, deliberately. Each roll of your hips drew soft sounds from both of you, the leather seat creaking beneath you as you found your pace. Lewis's hands guided your movements, helping you find the angle that made you both gasp.

The windows were completely fogged now, the outside world invisible beyond the steamed glass. There was nothing but this — the slide of skin against skin, the sound of your breathing mingling in the heated air, the way Lewis looked at you like you were everything he'd ever wanted.

"You're so beautiful like this," he whispered, voice strained with pleasure as you moved above him. "So fucking perfect."

His words sent electricity through you, spurring you to move faster, to take him deeper. The praise fell from his lips like a prayer — telling you how incredible you felt, how he'd never wanted anyone the way he wanted you, how watching you take your pleasure was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Lewis," you gasped, feeling that familiar tension building again, stronger this time with him buried deep inside you.

"I know, baby," he breathed, one hand sliding between your bodies to find that sensitive bundle of nerves. "I can feel you getting close. Come for me again."

The combination of his touch and his words and the perfect angle of him inside you was devastating. Your rhythm faltered as the pleasure built, becoming erratic, desperate.

"That's it," he encouraged, his own breathing ragged now. "Let me feel you."

When your second orgasm hit, it was even more intense than the first. You cried out his name as you shattered around him, your body clenching and pulsing in waves that seemed to go on forever. The sight and feel of you coming undone above him pushed Lewis over the edge too.

"Fuck, I'm—" he groaned, pulling you down for a desperate kiss as his own release claimed him, his body tensing beneath you as he spilled himself deep inside you with a broken cry of your name.

You collapsed against his chest, both of you breathing hard, skin slick with sweat despite the cool Monaco night. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as the aftershocks slowly faded, pressing soft kisses to your temple.

"That was..." he started, then trailed off with a breathless laugh.

"Yeah," you agreed, not trusting yourself with more words yet.

For a long moment, you stayed like that — wrapped around each other in the steamy confines of his car, hearts gradually slowing to normal rhythms. Reality would intrude soon enough, but for now, there was only this perfect, stolen moment of intimacy.

Not worried about sneaking back into the gala. or your brothers reaction. It was just you and him.

[alexanderlightweight]

Good Morning! I hope your day is starting out beautifully.

I would like to read an update on bitter trap of truth/ this deadly bouquet of love/bleed for desire. Whichever one you are most inspired for today, I love your writing.

NSF/NSFW doesn’t matter.

you know it started out with Nightshade and tea so it did start out pretty good (evil phonecalls interrupted but it was a good start!)

Nightshade was like 'baba we must have snuggles and play and you need to rub my belly and i need to be on your lap and oh. baba your face is dirty. cream? don't worry baba i won't let the cream stay on your skin! and i need a treat and what is that? are you eating? oh no ty baba i dont want just water. baba you have terrible eating habits how am i supposed to have extra snacks if you don't eat more?'

i hope you enjoy this, first part here

<3 lumine

this deadly bouquet of love

Alec has had it.

He truly has.

Not only is the shadowworld suddenly writhing like a pond of catfish being fed, it’s turning into a time of tumult and Alec is still in the middle of his courtship.

 He does not have the time to let Izzy and Jace get away with their usual insubordination.  In fact he’s completely washed his hands of personally training them, requested the Clave send him an adequate tutor and mentor — his own shadowhunters are too used to his parents and his own example and giving them leeway — and had been promptly told to just let Hodge train them.

It’s not going well.

Izzy’s comments have grown more biting and Jace’s arrogance which temporarily flagged has swelled up the longer the private lessons continue.

It’s a mess of a headache and Alec really doesn’t need to be dealing with this when he’s meticulously polishing small blowdarts before dipping them in a potion. Magnus is the one who gave him the potion, so Alec isn’t exactly worried that it’s unsafe but he’s still irritated at the unfairness of it all.

If Alec had realized how redundant nephilim courtships could be or how ridiculously long they could take, he would have found a different way to express his intentions. Especially considering the original attempt was an accident.

Completely serious, but an accident.

He and Magnus could be holding hands.

Alec isn’t even pushing for kisses — even though Magnus looks very kissable and his lips are soft and he smells amazing but that’s not the point.

The point is that Alec is being punished.

Clearly.

There’s no other reason for Magnus to continue to draw this out and Alec isn’t sure how he’s going to handle juggling both his personal wants and his responsibilities.

—

Magnus is delighted.

It’s been absolutely ages since Alexander’s done anything beyond graze Magnus skin and the potion itself is harmless, except Alexander doesn’t seemed pleased.  He’s staring at Magnus’ arm with dark eyes that Magnus can’t decipher and then his shoulders droop. He looks tired and despite the victory of getting Magnus with the dart, he seems displeased rather than proud.

“Oh no, no you don’t.” Magnus snags a thread of magic around Alexander’s wrist the moment his shadowhunter sends a longing look towards the roof’s edge and tugs him over.  He ignores  the way Alexander’s scowl deepens — because not once does his shadowhunter reach for a weapon or tell him to stop.  “What’s this, hmm? You’re normally so eager to see me and talk to me when you drop by?”

“I don’t have time to just be denied what I want, Magnus. I’m not stopping the courtship, but I don’t have time to play games I already know I’ll lose.”  Alexander doesn’t seem upset, the tired smile on his face isn’t irritated, merely exhausted and… ah. Magnus’ darling looks heart sore and Magnus wonders if perhaps he’s let his little game run on a bit too far.

As delightful as this entire endeavor has been, he’s always known that Alexander doesn’t actually enjoy targeting Magnus but truly, when was the last time Magnus has ever had someone so invested in just the possibility of holding his hand? The temptation of Alexander and his ardent devotion is too much and Magnus knows he’s been greedy but he also knows when the time to be generous is.

“But will you lose this time, sweetheart?” Magnus asks and Alexander’s eyes go wide as Magnus leans in and nuzzles him, their cheeks pressing together and Magnus’ goatee catching on Alexander’s stubble with a raw scrape that has his boy shuddering.

“Please don’t play with me like this, not tonight.” Alexander murmurs and Magnus sighs and lets his fingers finally touch like they’ve been craving to do for weeks.

“I’ve hardly been able to resist, Alexander. As much as I enjoy how you blush and fluster when I tease you, I’m not actually trying to torture you.” 

Magnus kisses Alexander then, pulling him in with fingers in Alexander’s hair and sighing in ecstasy at the way Alexander stiffens and then eagerly melts against him.  Alexander is pliant, hands firm and steady on Magnus’ skin but he’s willing to be manhandled however Magnus wants, arching into every touch and moaning into the kiss when Magnus deepens it rather than just pull away.

“There, was that worth the wait?”

Alexander nods, eyes glassy with delighted pleasure and then he’s holding out his hand, a stubborn expression to his jaw and despite having just kissed him breathless, Magnus knows exactly what his darling is asking for.

“Kisses weren’t enough?”

“They were nice and a bonus, but I was promised I could hold your hand.” The way Alexander’s voice rasps, already kiss-hoarse and debauched but still stubborn is strangely charming.

Magnus still isn’t sure why Alexander is so fixated on holding hands but then his warm fingers tangle with Alexander’s cool one and he feels a sudden calmness, as if he’s been re-centered and he sees Alexander looking a their hands with delighted awe.

“There was always a chance I could eventually fuck a man. Kiss him in the shadows and only have tidbits of the life I want.” Magnus holds back the seething anger at even the idea of it, too invested in the way Alexander swings their joined hands. “I know it’s a bit mundane. But most shadowhunter couples I know don’t hold hands. They fuck and kiss and have children and some of them share affection, but this? This is what I’ve wanted. Not a quick fuck in an alley without names for safety. This.”

Magnus suddenly feels a burst of emotions that he refuses to name or even attempt to decipher and brings Alexander’s knuckles up to kiss them.

“I will hold your hand whenever you like, Alexander.  Even if you refuse to woo me any further.”

Alexander’s brow furrows, his eye twitching and Magnus laughs and leans closer to kiss away his disgruntlement.

“I tease, lovely. You’ve more than wooed me. I think rather than being the target of your aim, I’ll enjoy being the target of your affections. Besides, now if you craft me presents I can watch as you do it.”

-

AN:

Magnus has a competency kink: i know he has better aim than this. wtf alexander.

alec who has a 'i dont want to hurt the man i'm falling in love with' kink: i'd rather he think me an incompetent fool but how is shooting him going to get him to hold my hand faster????

magnus realizing alec is a bit delicate: oh, okay sweetheart it's fine. you can hold my hand and just kill targets for me instead?

alec: oh thank raziel. i am 100% okay with this. i will probably be fine killing most anyone you point me to just like, not you.

-

magnus was having the time of his life. he's being chased/wooed/etc politely? he gets to direct how things are going? he went a little overboard but that's valid and it got fixed the minute he realized alec was actually getting upset and depressed about the situation.

alec would love to spar with magnus etc. he just doesn't enjoy fake assassinating the man he's fantasizing about marrying.

magnus: oh.... oh he's a soft romantic. oh my. i did get lucky, didn't i. competent and sweet and pliable.

alec still sulking and nuzzling Magnus, giving him kisses and hugs and generally being a limpet: i don't have to go back tot he institute till the afternoon. can i stay this time?

magnus: i think i would destroy something if you tried to leave, so yes. also i do realize and regret that i could have been having this for weeks. it's ragnors fault. he suggested it.

ragnor: do not bring me into this! i clearly was on the poor lad's side. you took what you wanted to hear and ran with it and we both know it!

magnus: ... okay well, we still both got what we wanted, right alexander?

alec ignoring everything to just lean against Magnus and hold his hand and breathe him in and like: mh'mm just let me know who you want me to kill.

ragnor and cat: ... really? really magnus?

Magnus: ... he offered!

[coollyinterferes]

"Just got some cash and a pocket watch from some blokes earlier for free..."

"No kiddin'! It's as if this gun was magical or somethin'!"

[subjectsix]

I don't know I'm not done talking about it. It's insane that I can't just uninstall Edge or Copilot. That websites require my phone number to sign up. That people share their contacts to find their friends on social media.

I wouldn't use an adblocker if ads were just banners on the side funding a website I enjoy using and want to support. Ads pop up invasively and fill my whole screen, I misclick and get warped away to another page just for trying to read an article or get a recipe.

Every app shouldn't be like every other app. Instagram didn't need reels and a shop. TikTok doesn't need a store. Instagram doesn't need to be connected to Facebook. I don't want my apps to do everything, I want a hub for a specific thing, and I'll go to that place accordingly.

I love discord, but so much information gets lost to it. I don't want to join to view things. I want to lurk on forums. I want to be a user who can log in and join a conversation by replying to a thread, even if that conversation was two days ago. I know discord has threads, it's not the same. I don't want to have to verify my account with a phone number. I understand safety and digital concerns, but I'm concerned about information like that with leaks everywhere, even with password managers.

I shouldn't have to pay subscriptions to use services and get locked out of old versions. My old disk copy of photoshop should work. I should want to upgrade eventually because I like photoshop and supporting the business. Adobe is a whole other can of worms here.

Streaming is so splintered across everything. Shows release so fast. Things don't get physical releases. I can't stream a movie I own digitally to friends because the share-screen blocks it, even though I own two digital copies, even though I own a physical copy.

I have an iPod, and I had to install a third party OS to easily put my music on it without having to tangle with iTunes. Spotify bricked hardware I purchased because they were unwillingly to upkeep it. They don't pay their artists. iTunes isn't even iTunes anymore and Apple struggles to upkeep it.

My TV shows me ads on the home screen. My dad lost access to eBook he purchased because they were digital and got revoked by the company distributing them. Hitman 1-3 only runs online most of the time. Flash died and is staying alive because people love it and made efforts to keep it up.

I have to click "not now" and can't click "no". I don't just get emails, they want to text me to purchase things online too. My windows start search bar searches online, not just my computer. Everything is blindly called an app now. Everything wants me to upload to the cloud. These are good tools! But why am I forced to use them! Why am I not allowed to own or control them?

No more!!!!! I love my iPod with so much storage and FLAC files. I love having all my fics on my harddrive. I love having USBs and backups. I love running scripts to gut suck stuff out of my Windows computer I don't want that spies on me. I love having forums. I love sending letters. I love neocities and webpages and webrings. I will not be scanning QR codes. Please hand me a physical menu. If I didn't need a smartphone for work I'd get a "dumb" phone so fast. I want things to have buttons. I want to use a mouse. I want replaceable batteries. I want the right to repair. I grew up online and I won't forget how it was!

[hashtagloveloses]

should you delete twitter and get bluesky? (or just get a bluesky in general)? here's what i've found:

yes. my answer was no before bc the former CEO of twitter who also sucked, jack dorsey, was on the board, but he left as of may 2024, and things have gotten a lot better. also a lot of japanese and korean artists have joined

don't delete your twitter. lock your account, use a service to delete all your tweets, delete the app off of your phone, and keep your account/handle so you can't be impersonated.

get a bluesky with the same handle, even if you won't use it, also so you won't be impersonated.

get the sky follower bridge extension for chrome or firefox. you can find everyone you follow on twitter AND everyone you blocked so you don't have to start fresh: https://skyfollowerbridge.com/

learn how to use its moderation tools (labelers, block lists, NSFW settings) so you can immediately cut out the grifters, fascists, t*rfs, AI freaks, have the NSFW content you want to see if you so choose, and moderate for triggers. here's a helpful thread with a lot of tools.

the bluesky phone app is pretty good, but there is also tweetdeck for bluesky, called https://deck.blue/ on desktop, if you miss tweetdeck.

bluesky has explicitly stated they do not use your data to train generative AI, which is nice to hear from an up and coming startup. obviously we can’t trust these companies and please use nightshade and glaze, but it’s good to hear.

[sadiesdoll]

sevika with a breeding kink. ♡

drunk!sevika x reader. | just sevika wanting to cum inside you. (mdni ♡)

sevika with a breeding kink. ♡ | 2 |

contains: breeding kink, praise kink, size kink, strength kink (kinda), possessive language, alcohol use (both parties intoxicated but consenting), & dry humping.

a/n: this was heavily inspired by this fic so please check out their original work cus it’s perfect

Enjoy ♡

You're giggling as you shut the door behind Silco and Vander, both of them high-fiving and stumbling toward their Uber like gremlins on a sugar rush.

"Text me when you get home!" you yell after them, already kicking off your shoes.

The apartment's a mess—beer bottles, takeout containers, someone left a single sock on the windowsill (???). You start gathering stuff in your arms with that tipsy buzz still in your veins, swaying a little with each step.

You make your way toward the living room to check on Sevika but stop in your tracks when you see her sprawled flat on the carpet, one leg bent awkwardly and an arm slung over her face like she's shielding herself from the world.

She groans, "Those fuckin' assholes cheated."

You try not to laugh. "Was this Vander or Silco?"

"Both." She slurs. "Fuck 'em."

You tiptoe closer, hands on your hips. "I warned you not to go shot-for-shot with literal tank-sized men! Well.. except silco.”

Sevika grumbles again, her voice deep and raspy, like gravel soaked in whiskey. She shifts slightly but doesn't open her eyes.

You straddle her hips carefully, wobbly from the alcohol, planting yourself right on top of her.

"Maybe next time you'll listen to me."

Her arm twitches. She finally cracks one eye open and peers at you. Her gaze drops low.

Her eyes darken.

You're sitting right on her lap, all soft and warm. You’re small compared to her.

She swallows thickly. Her thigh tenses under your ass. You can feel her reacting to you, and you smirk.

"Are you dying?" you tease, pressing your palms to her chest.

"Not yet," she mumbles, but her fingers twitch against the carpet. You bounce a little, teasing, light—just enough to make her groan through her teeth.

"Jesus," she growls. Her hands lift and land heavy on your hips. "You tryna fucking kill me?"

You grin, breathless. "I'm just keeping the winner company."

"I didn't win." She says, looking down at your thighs while rubbing circles on them with her thumb.

"You won me," you shrug dramatically.

And something snaps in her.

Her eyes flick up to yours, full of heat and frustration and some deep, stormy emotion you can't quite name. She shifts under you again, and it's not subtle.

You tilt your head, watching her eyes flutter between your face and your thighs like she's trying to decide where to die. She's flushed now—cheeks warm, chest rising and falling heavier with every second.

You smooth your hands over her stomach, up her ribs, watching the way her breath catches beneath your fingers. "You're really that fucked up, huh?"

"Mhmm," she mumbles, her grip on your hips tightening as you shift again, just slightly. You're barely moving, but it's enough to make her grunt softly—like the restraint is physically painful.

"I could move," you say softly, leaning forward just enough for your chest to brush hers. "Get off. Let you rest."

Her hands clamp down hard. "Don't." It's low. Barely a growl. Almost a plea.

You hum, dragging your fingers up into her hair, letting her body feel the weight of yours. "You're never this needy, babe..."

Her eyes flick up to yours again, this time hazier, darker. "M not needy."

"You are," you whisper, brushing your nose along her jaw. "Look at you. Clingy."

"I'm drunk," she mutters, as if that's a defense.

You giggle softly. "So you admit you need me?"

Her silence is loud.

Your voice dips, teasing, sultry. "What's got you all soft for me, huh?”

She exhales sharply through her nose—half-laugh, half-groan. Then her hand lifts, palm cupping the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair like she's grounding herself. Her thumb brushes your skin softly.

There's a tension in her body, but it's not sharp-it's aching.

She's quiet for a beat. Then:

"You don't get it."

You blink. "What?"

Her grip tightens, her voice barely above a whisper. "You don't get how fuckin' lucky I feel just having you like this."

Your breath hitches. And then, that's when it happens—her voice going gravelly, slurred and wrecked:

 "I wanna fuckin' put a baby in you."

You freeze. "...Huh?"

"I wanna-" she exhales harshly, like the words are scraped from her throat. "Wanna fill you up. Wanna make you all pretty and swollen. Fuckin' mine."

You open your mouth but no sound comes out.

Her hands slide rough and slow over your waist, your belly, your hips—like she's mapping it all out. Like she's already claiming it.

"You're so warm," she murmurs, breathless.

"So soft. I can feel your pussy through these little shorts, baby—fuck—“

Her voice breaks into a groan as she grinds up once, slow and heavy beneath you, and you feel allof her.

"I don't want stupid fuckin' plastic. I don't want fingers. I want you raw. I wanna stretch you out with my cock and keep you so fuckin’ full."

You shudder. "Sevika-"

"I want it to leak out of you for hours," she slurs, hips twitching again. "Want you to be messy with me. Want you to smell like it. Like mine."

Your breath stutters, thighs clenching. She feels it.

"Ohhh, fuck," she hisses. "That—do that again."

You try to say something smart. Anything.

But your brain is gone.

Her grip on your hips gets bruising. She's panting. Desperate.

"I'd be so fucking good to you," she growls.

"Rub your feet, your back, kiss that belly every night—l'd take care of everything, just let me—fuck—just let me cum inside you."

Her pupils are blown, her mouth parted in that open-mouthed, wrecked kind of awe like you're something divine. She looks up at you like she's praying. Worshipping.

"You'd look so fuckin' good full. Dripping. Cryin' because l'm too big and deep but beggin' me not to stop."

You gasp, nails digging into her shoulders.

She grins—sharp, unhinged.

"Say yes," she pants, pulling you down so her mouth brushes your ear. "Say yes and I'll do it right now—slow, deep—'til you're milking me for everything I got."

You grab her face to still her, both of you panting, burning up from the inside out. She looks feral. Her jaw clenches like she's holding back from flipping you over and doing it now. And then-

Click.

You both freeze.

The front door creaks open.

In walks Jinx, holding a grocery bag and a half-eaten lollipop, jaw instantly dropping.

Sevika, still fully seated with you straddling her, looks up, red-eyed, lip bitten, her arms wrapped tight around your waist.

Jinx blinks.

“…You good?"

part 2 is out now ♡

criticism and ideas are heavily appreciated (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

thank you for reading! ♡

[boreal-sea]

This thread is incredibly important to read.

It is also extremely difficult to read. I don't know if I need to point this out, but the document itself is obviously full of bigotry so please take care of yourself if you choose to read it. Antisemitic phrases like "cultural marxism" and "global elites" appear before the document even really gets rolling, and are mixed in with transphobia, racism, and more.

If you want a taste of how this document starts in the first main section about "The Family", here is a taste:

"This starts with deleting the terms sexual orientation and gender identity (“SOGI”), diversity, equity, and inclusion (“DEI”), gender, gender equality, gender equity, gender awareness, gender-sensitive, abortion, reproductive health, reproductive rights, and any other term used to deprive Americans of their First Amendment rights out of every federal rule, agency regulation, contract, grant, regulation, and piece of legislation that exists."

It is all bad. ALL of this document is bad, and dangerous, and threatens the lives and the safety of everyone living in this country.

[scallioncreamcheesebagel]

hilarious drama going on on reddit, the least respectable social media site i use. someone goes to r/legaladvice with a question about a shitty interaction with a cop. pretty normal post.

some users replied with regular advice, but one r/legaladvice moderator came in saying it was OP's fault, defending the cop. when OP requested they "please read the post", they equipped their next reply with their little mod hat and told them that showing attitude would result in a ban.

after receiving hundreds of downvotes (and many replies, all of which were removed and banned), the r/legaladvice mod nuked the thread in a fit of anger.

so you'd think it'd stop there, right? well, that's where you're wrong.

there's another subreddit called r/bestoflegaladvice, where the more interesting r/legaladvice threads are reposted for audiences to take the piss out of. and of course, a mod throwing a tantrum and nuking a thread because they were asked to read would make that cut. so it was reposted! and of course, everyone started rightfully calling the mod a bootlicker.

people then started pointing out that the r/legaladvice mod team has cops on it, at which point, part two of the drama starts: some people are mods of both r/legaladvice AND r/bestoflegaladvice, and they get really mad when you call them cops (derogatory).

so of course, they take the best course of action, which is to angrily reply to comments calling them cops and then use mod powers to delete the comments they don't like, insisting that only ONE r/legaladvice mod is a cop, so it's totally fine!

the r/bestoflegaladvice thread was then deleted and locked by mods, presumably for "republicizing deleted comments".

the same thread was then reposted to r/bestoflegaladvice. again, the thread fills with people calling the r/legaladvice mods cops.

this thread was also deleted and locked by r/bestoflegaladvice mods.

but it doesn't end there! because there's ANOTHER subreddit called r/subredditdrama, where the juiciest drama from all manner of subreddits gets reposted. and you'll never believe what's gone on long enough to count as drama.

here, free from the shackles of reddit's legaladvice world, users were free to dunk on the mods as much as they want.

the r/subredditdrama thread was eventually deleted as well (but not locked) just because they don't accept links to nuked threads since the original can't be read, but thankfully, everything had been archived by that point.

and just because the streisand effect should never go unrealized, i'm reposting it here, to tumblr. who knows, maybe someone will bother to screencap this and put it on r/curatedtumblr, and it will eventually live on in reddit again.

as for OP, they reposted their situation to r/nostupidquestions and later posted this update:

moral of the story: never go to reddit for legal advice, because the legal advice subreddit is run by ONE cop.

[soaps-mohawk]

Summary: Task Force 141 operates successfully without an omega, at least that’s what Price has been saying since its formation. Two alphas and two betas balance the pack just fine, and they have the numbers to prove it.

It works for a while, until the Omega Initiative is born and the 141 find themselves having to adjust to the sudden addition of an omega to their pack. Fresh out of an institute, you’re hardly fit for their secretive, dangerous world, or so Price thinks. 

As each member of the team gets closer to you, things begin to come to light, not only about you but about the decision to force you into their lives.

Maybe, just maybe, Price was wrong and the 141 does need an omega after all. 

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, Price x Gaz, Ghost x Soap

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, NSFW content, explicit smut, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), knotting, biting, claiming, mating cycles, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, age differences, military inaccuracies, canon typical violence, blood, weapons, language, no use of Y/N, brief torture, hurt/comfort, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.

Chapters containing smut are marked with a *

Join my Patreon for exclusives -> HERE

This fic can also be found on my Ao3 -> HERE

I will no longer be using a taglist for this fic, please follow THIS BLOG and turn on notifications

**This fic is currently in progress**

NAVIGATION PAGE

CRCB DIRECTORY

Part 1 - The Omega

Chapter 1 - The Introduction

Chapter 2 - Adjustments

Chapter 3 - Speak Their Language

Chapter 4 - You Can Be Useful

Chapter 5 - What I Want *

Part 2 - The Bond

Chapter 6 - One Step Closer *

Chapter 7 - Sweet Strawberry

Chapter 8 - The Thing About Ghost

Chapter 9 - Save Me

Chapter 10 - Treat Me Gently*

Part 3 - The First Heat

Chapter 11 - It's Coming

Chapter 12 - Fire In My Veins*

Chapter 13 - Piece Me Back Together*

Chapter 14 - The Aftermath*

Part 4 - The New Normal

Chapter 15: Bonnie*

Chapter 16: Big Brown Eyes *

Chapter 17: Alone

Chapter 18: Don't Let Me Go

Chapter 19: Daddy Issues

Chapter 20: The New Normal *

Chapter 21: Crime and Punishment *

Chapter 22: I Won't Be Gentle

Part 5 - A Pack of Five

Chapter 23: Regrets

Chapter 24: The Last First Time *

Chapter 25: Animals *

Chapter 26: Fuck *

Chapter 27: Drown In It *

Chapter 28: Two Is Company, Three Is A Party *

Chapter 29: There's Something Wrong With My Omega

Part 6 - The Tragedy

Chapter 30: Butterfly's Wings

Chapter 31: Forced Proximity

Chapter 32: The Tragedy

Chapter 33: Ghosts of the Past

Chapter 34: The Whole Truth

Part 7 - The Aftermath

Chapter 35: Threads

Chapter 36: To The Sea

Chapter 37: The Silence

Chapter 38: Shattered

Chapter 39: Life

Part 8 - The Next Chapter

Chapter 40: Where Do We Go From Here

Chapter 41: Revenge

Chapter 42: Comfort and Joy

Chapter 43: Lies

Chapter 44: Little Shit

Chapter 45: Heat of the Moment *

Chapter 46: My Girl *

Chapter 47: The Reunion

Chapter 48: Wild Times *

Chapter 49: Reforming Bonds *

Chapter 50: Flashback *

Part 9 - Finding Home

Chapter 51: Back To The Start

Chapter 52: The Rucking Princess

Chapter 53: Meeting the Family

Chapter 54: The Farm

Title card made by the beautiful @141wh0re

Chapter 55: Finding Home *

Chapter 56: Making Home *

[woniesss]

ON YOUR OWN - jake had been craving you for years, and recently his head has been filling with pictures of you...on his bed...on the beach...maybe he could just do it on his own...while looking at you!

CONTAINS - nonidol!jake x female reader - GENRE - friends to lovers

MDNI - SMUT : swearing, unprotected sex (p in v), fingering, lots of kissing, pet names (baby, jakey), slight overstimulation, creampie, masturbation (m. receiving), does this count as slight public?? i mean they all be hearing this, dirty talk, titty play. i believe that is it, if i've missed anything please let me know!!

is this too long for a first fic?? i got a bit dedicated

a/n : hii!! this is my first time ever writing content on tumblr and on enhypen so if it's terrible please ignore itt! any feedback would be so great and i should hopefully be doing an introduction on my page soon so feel free to ask me any questions and i'll try to respond to them!

jake could not stop watching you. how dare you talk to jay over him? maybe he shouldn't have offered to bring you to meet his new college friends, because you'd spent the entire time talking to them, talking to him. what made jay so special? was it the fact he played guitar? jake would learn it for you. was it his casual but fancy clothes? jake would wear whatever you told him to.

the longer jake stared the more his frustration grew, the way your smile reached your eyes at jay's awfully cringe jokes made him clutch the glass in his hand harder. his head tilted back to rest on the sofa, his soft lips forming a pout as your attention shifts from jay to sunghoon, who had now sat on the other side of you.

but you weren't stupid, anyone could feel the heat from jake's gaze. and even though you thought you'd be strong enough to resist after years of being close friends, you couldn't stop yourself from turning towards the flame. his soft pout and puppy-dog eyes caused you to melt slightly, getting lost in him rather than the conversation sunghoon was attempting to have between you, him and jay. that was until jay stood up and started to walk towards the hallway.

"get ready, everyone else is already at the beach so we should head off soon."

you furrowed your eyebrows as you'd completely forgotten about the trip to the beach you had all planned out for when you got there. sunghoon shot up to go and get ready, your eyes following him before you felt the sofa dip again beside you.

arms curl around your waist as a head lays in the crook of your neck, snuggling slightly as you feel the warmth of his breath on your neck. it felt so normal, jake's nose nuzzling into the dip of your neck and collarbone, even more normal when your hand came up to thread through his hair. you guys had always been this close, barely ever separated at school, you had even planned to go to the same college next year, not only offering exactly what you wanted to do, but jake was there too. you guys would ignore the teasing, because at least you were comfortable with each other. as friends.

"should we go and get ready?"

you felt jake shake his head on your shoulder, "so tired, aren't you just so tired, don't you just want to come and lay down with me?"

you couldn't help but laugh at jake's attempt to get you to stay rather than going with the group to the beach.

"come on jakey, let's go get ready and we can spend the whole time laying down at the beach. you know i won't swim without you anyway."

he lifts his head from your shoulder, his face turning from a pout to a small smile, the one where he's simply just happy. the one he only ever gives to you. then he stands up, taking your hand and dragging you to his room, where your suitcase is. jake never bothered to make his room look appealing whenever you used to go to his house, so he definitely wasn't starting now. you smile at all the things in his room that make it his. and what you wish was yours too.

"you want me to head out while you change?"

you quickly shake your head as you unzip your suitcase, taking out the first two piece you could find along with a skirt to quickly throw on top.

"i'll just change in the bathroom, won't take long."

heading into the bathroom, you look back just as you go to close the door, catching a glimpse of jake taking his shirt off to swap to the tank top he'd laid on his bed. it wasn't like you hadn't seen jake shirtless before, but his back was just so wide and toned. the movement of his shoulders highlighted in the sunlight beaming into his bedroom. his changing physique from a scrawny teenage boy to muscles never failed to shock you, or draw you in. you feel your face flush as you finally shut the bathroom door, looking in the mirror at your now red face.

you couldn't understand why everything was feeling different with jake recently. you'd always denied having a crush on him at every opportunity you could get, but would liking him really be that bad? other than the intense fear of losing your closest friend, what did you have to lose?

changing as quickly as you could, you bring your clothes out of the bathroom and back into jake's room with you, throwing them onto your suitcase before sitting on the corner of jake's bed. your arms are thrown behind you, leaning back as you wait for jake to finish packing his bag next to you.

he turns to you, a light smile on his face as his eyes flicker around your face before slipping down quickly to look at your outfit. a skirt that wasn't long enough to hide your thighs from his gaze, bikini top hugging you perfectly, hair moved away from your shoulders showing him all of your chest. you being perched back, barely clothed on his bed...

jake's mind wandered no matter how hard he tried to stop it. all he had to do was move a few inches to the left and he'd be hovering over you. one tug at the strap of your bikini and he'd see what he'd been imagining for longer than he'd ever tell you. one pull at your skirt and the bottoms you wore underneath and he'd see something he'd rather drown in than go to the ocean. his teeth pulled sharply at his lip after a sharp inhale, his eyes moving back up to your face as your head tilted.

and his mind wandered again. but more to how much he wanted to kiss the little furrow of confusion away from your brows. how much he wanted to hold your face in his hands. to pull you down onto his bed and cuddle and sleep...and maybe more...damn you looked so good on his bed.

but jake couldn't let his mind go any further, standing up straight and closing his bag, holding his hand out for you to take so you guys could head off to the beach.

and the car ride wasn't any better.

you and jake were squished into the back as bags were piled onto the other seat, the trunk full with beach stuff. the feeling of your thigh pressed against jake's wasn't new but something about it drove him mad. the perfect press of your soft skin against his was something he couldn't take his eyes off. until he had to, when he felt the tickle of your hair against his shoulder after you rested your head there.

"you feeling tired, huh?"

"a little, maybe i should've taken you up on your offer, your bed was so comfy."

jake couldn't stop himself from pressing a gentle kiss on your hairline, his face flushing from the thoughts he had when you sat on his bed. his hand came over to rest gently on top of your hand, but you'd moved before he could, his hand landing on your thigh. yet neither of you moved away from the soft touch. a small squeeze from jake just to make sure you were comfortable with it, you snuggling impossibly closer to him.

god, jake just couldn't keep his eyes off of you, the way the sun beamed through the windows onto your face highlighting every feature he had memorised, his other hand began to reach up, caressing the side of your face softly before turning your head to face him. was this it?

your own eyes flickered across his face, his thick hair falling onto his forehead in that perfect way, his soft and deep brown eyes rushing all over your face, and his lips plush lips. then his soft grasp on your face turned into something more solid, a light tip to the corner of his lip changing the intention behind his eyes immediately as his eyes stayed on your lips. his beautiful nose brushed against yours, forcing your head to tilt to meet the direction he was moving to.

until the car lurched forward.

jay quickly pulling into the car park and pulling the hand break caused you and jake to awkwardly overlap from the proximity. his hand reached around your waist to pull you back into a sitting position rather than folded over, face moving round to check your face to see if you were ok. both of your faces were shades of the brightest pink, and being this close again did nothing to stop jake from going insane. the yank of his car door being opened by jay was the only thing stopping him from devouring you in the back seat.

while jay and sunghoon sprinted from the car to meet everyone else at the beach (leaving you and jake with all the stuff in the car), you offered to help jake carry the bags and lay out everything on the beach, which he refused. he laid the blanket flat on the sand, using the bags to weigh it down before pulling his tank top off and laying on his back.

his hands came down to push the band of his shorts lower on his hips, his v-line prominent, shadows below it from how defined it was. then, he pulled up the bottom of his shorts up to the tops of this thighs, his strong muscles on display. who in their right mind wouldn't stare? jake then moved his arms up to behind his head, resting back on them as he squinted up at you.

jesus, you were staring at him? he never thought he'd appreciate trying to bulk up as much as he did right now. he could feel his body as your eyes roamed everywhere, from the way his abs moved when he breathed to the way his legs would clench while he shuffled. he tightened his arms by his head, your eyes immediately moving to the flex before meeting his face.

jake's tongue darted out and wet his lips, deciding not to shy away from your gaze as your eyes met.

"come lay down with me...please?"

you remove your skirt, sitting next to him before reaching into his bag and pulling out sunscreen and holding it out for jake to take and help you. after taking the bottle from you hand, jake poured some into his hand before rubbing it into your back. starting softly at the top of your back, slowly moving down and pressing harder as he reached your waist. he pressed his fingers into your waist, making you lurch away from the tickling sensation before he grabbed you and pulled you back into him.

you didn't move away from him, his hands coming to wrap around you and hold you close. he reached over to grab the sunscreen again, before rubbing it in slowly on your arms, and your shoulders. then his hands came up to rub it slowly into your collarbones, his hands gliding down and accidentally catching your bikini, making your breath hitch.

while his hands rested on your stomach, your head leant back on his shoulder, watching the boys play about and push each other in the water. jake's thumb was brushing back and forth over your stomach before accidentally brushing the bottom of your breast. your breath hitched at the soft brush, leaning further into his body as the brushes continued.

jake's thoughts were racing again. what if right here on the beach he just glided his hands up higher, held your tits in his hands and palmed them while his friends were distracted? slipped one hand lower into your bottoms and brought you close. pulled your head to his and kissed you like there was nobody around, not caring if his friends saw him and teased him. the sight of your head moving out of the corner of his eyes stopped his train of thought.

your eyes darted around his face again, before stopping dead on his lips. you couldn't stop yourself from moving your head closer to his, feeling his eyes dart around your face as he bit his lip.

your moment is soon interrupted by the storming footsteps of jake's friends running up from the water to lay down. your heart raced like you've never been hugged by jake before. this was different though. he wasn't just hugging you, he was holding you, touching you and almost kissing you. and you've never wanted him more. the heat coming from his chest warmed you more than the sun did.

it made you nervous to be sleeping in the same bed as him later. the dark thoughts flooding your mind of being in the same bed that he did everything in. surely he hadn't been here long enough to touch himself yet. but the littlest thought of that made your breathing quicken. would he touch you with the same hand he touched himself with, or would he use the other so he could touch himself at the same time. god you just wanted to watch him. would he want that too?

as the sun started to set, you all moved towards the cars to head home. being in the sun all day should've worn you out but you were wide awake and flooded with thoughts of jake. some soft, like how he moved to hold your hand in the car again, but some darker, like how good that hand would feel all over your body.

after getting drinks and snacks, you and jake soon said goodnight to the boys and settled into his room. jake stuck on a random movie as you both laid back and got comfortable. despite your thoughts racing, you eased into sleep.

jake wished he could've fallen asleep that easily with you next to him, but the way the light bed sheets fell over your hips entranced him. the curve of your waist highlighted by the little moonlight coming through his window, hair falling away from your shoulder making the side of your neck show. he felt like a perv.

he reached his hand out to gently brush against your side, the soft murmur you let out causing a little groan to escape him. jake's head came to rest on your shoulder, before bringing his hand that wasn't brushing up and down your side to his groin. he'd never felt himself get this hard this fast before.

he reached into his pants and gripped himself as he moved back to look at you. his other hand now placed firmly on your waist before pushing the bedsheets down further to grip your hips. jake felt so wrong, but he couldn't help dragging his hand across his dick. he'd never been this sensitive, never been this desperate to get off. his movements quickened as the wet sounds of his pre-cum spreading over his dick filled the room.

the sound of you shifting made him pause, watching you move to lay on your front, still facing away from him, with your leg hiked up. the whine jake let out was pathetic as his hand started moving on himself again. his hips started to buck as he turned his face into his pillow to muffle the moans and whimpers he was shamelessly letting out.

struggling with this new position, jake pushed himself up onto his knees, tugging his pants down as his dick sprung up, the air causing him to shiver as his tip painted a little white streak on his abdomen.

he breached his hand behind him before he started pumping himself again. everything felt so new, never gotten this hard and desperate before, and never gotten so close this quickly before. his mouth opened wide, tongue breaching the edge of his mouth as his eyes racked up and down your body.

jake's eyes scrunched up his head was thrown back, letting out a loud moan that he was too far gone to worry about people hearing.

and because of this, he hadn't noticed you waking up and turning to face him. his long neck stretched with his thrown back head, his veiny arms leading down to his massive hand and thick fingers. thick fingers that were gripping his cock so hard his knuckles had turned white. your eyes traced his thighs supporting him before they move back up to his dripping tip. despite his strength, he looked so weak trembling and quivering above you.

it made you clench your thighs together as your slick drenched your panties. you hadn't realised just how hard you had been biting your lip until it started to ache from the pressure.

"j-jakey?"

his head snapped up to meet your gaze, but his rapid hand didn't stop. if anything it got faster.

"i-i'm so sorry baby- i couldn't-", he cut himself off with a moan, his head falling forward as his other hand came up to caress himself under his shirt, showing you a glimpse of his abs, "i'm so close baby just let me finish...please."

his desperation only caused you to become more aroused. where was the confident guy watching you like his final meal? here he was in front of you begging, on the verge of tears just for you to let him cum.

"you wanna cum while looking at me jakey, is that what it is?"

jake rapidly nodding his head, his other hand coming round to grip his balls as his eyes traced over your face before meeting your eyes and not wavering. his moans grew as his hand came up to muffle his cries as he came hard, spurts of hot white came and landed on his sheets next to you as you sat up.

quiet sobs came from jake as he shrunk into himself, "i'm so sorry baby, that was so filthy, i'm sorry..."

"no don't apologise jakey."

your hands came up to hold his face and move it upwards to look at you. jake's face was flushed bright red from the previous exertion and the fresh tears streaming down it. your eyes trailed from his big brown eyes to his bitten lips, unable to stop yourself from leaning in and smashing your lips against his.

the whimper he let out was disgraceful, both his hands now gripping your waist as he pushed you down onto his bed. his lips flush against yours as his hands rushed to tug on your pants.

"c-can i?"

you nodded your head as his hands pushed your pants and underwear down, leaning back to look at you open and exposed to him. a quick fuck was muttered before his arms move up to rush his shirt off, followed by his pants, leaving him completely naked in front of you. you followed, taking your shirt off and leaning back on your elbows as both of your eyes roamed each other's body.

"fuck, you're beautiful."

you grew flushed under his gaze and his admission. you stretched your arm out to him, hand open, and jake's head came down to lay in your hand as you pulled him back to your lips.

his hand glided up from your knees to the inside of your thigh, before his thumb parted your folds and brushed against your clit causing you to let out a soft moan into his mouth.

"jesus you're so wet baby, did you enjoy watching me get off that much?"

"like you can talk, you're the one cumming from watching me sle-"

you cut yourself off with a loud moan as jake moved his thumb away and replaces it with two fingers moving up and down your folds, smirking at himself. his two fingers then moved away from your clit and pressed against your clenching hole. your breathing stops as you jerk your hips into his hand, before his fingers slowly press into your core.

you immediately clench around his thick fingers, a breathy moan escaping from you as your hands come together to hold jake's arm. you tits pressed together, jake practically drooling at the sight before coming down to mouth at your chest. his fingers continued to pump into you while his mouth latches onto one of your nipples, sucking lightly as you whine out. one of your hands came up to grip his hair as his eyes flicked up to meet yours. you wetness began to pour out of you, dripping onto his hands as he began to scissor his fingers inside of you opening you up.

he curled his fingers inside you, brushing against your walls with his broad fingertips. his lips moved from one breast to the other, his other hand coming up to grip the one he just left slicked and sucked. his moved his lips to roam over your chest and collarbones as his fingers still moved rapidly inside of you, sucking and nipping to bruise your skin.

jake's thoughts were racing as your body reacted to him, feeling himself get just as hard as before, maybe even harder at how wet you were and the sounds you were letting out. the hot squelch of your pussy as his fingers filled you caused his hips to buck into nothing, wanting nothing more than to be filling you rather than his fingers but he wanted to make sure you were open enough for him. he didn't want to hurt you. not that his dick was massive, but it was bigger than average and thick, a perfect stretch for your tight pussy that he was currently trying to widen for him.

just as his thumb came up to press against your clit, you whined out at the overstimulation as your eyes roll back from you cumming, clenching tightly around his fingers. but jake doesn't stop.

"jake i- fuck! jake i already came!"

"i know baby but i gotta make sure your nice and open to take me."

jake finally moves away from sucking your tits and chest, leaving behind purpling marks that he'll be even prouder of tomorrow. you gasp as he pulls his fingers out of you, going to close your legs before his hand comes down to hold your thigh tightly.

"don't close 'em baby, you gotta let me in."

using his hand slicked up from your heat, jake pumps himself a few times before leaning down to brush the tip of his cock through your folds. he was so thick, his mushroom tip barging its way through your folds before pressing into your tight hole. the moans you both let out were loud and whiny, neither of you caring about the rest of the dorm hearing you both. jake's jaw dropped, his eyebrows screwing as he pushes himself further into your soaked heat.

your walls pulsed around him, jake felt as though he could feel your heartbeat through you clenching. your hands came round to his hips, gripping them before pushing him backwards slightly, telling him that he could start to move his hips. he brought his hands up, barely touching your thighs with his fingertips before gripping the backs of your knees and pulling out, before pushing himself in again.

the drag of his cock against your plush walls drove you both mad. jake's thrusts began slow, allowing him to feel and see exactly what made you feel good. he already began brushing against that perfect spot inside of you that made your mouth fall open and your eyebrows furrow. soon enough, the slow pace became too little for him, picking up speed and strength behind the glide of his hips.

jake feels his cock throb inside of you, the soaking cushion of your walls sending him into overdrive as he loses his control. you looked so perfect underneath him, tits bouncing and face lost in pleasure.

it was better than anything he could've ever imagined.

no matter what he thought of earlier, from the thoughts of you sat on the corner of his bed, to anything he was thinking at the beach, none of it compared. he had finally gotten his hands on you after years of trying not to pine too obviously with a hard cock in his pants praying you wouldn't notice. or praying that you would. anytime he fucked his hand thinking of you wouldn't beat this, his eyes going fuzzy from your walls fluttering around him.

your hands moved up from his hips to his arms, dragging down them and gripping his hand before he moved it to hold yours next to your head. him now leaning over you caused him to drag your knee up with him, pressing you further into the now creaking bed, and changing the position making him feel even deeper inside of you. his head dipped to rest in your neck, suckling and biting, leaving more marks all over you, before he leaned up to your ear.

"fuck baby- you feel so good, never leaving this pussy, you feel me here?"

jake's hand moved from your leg to your stomach, pressing down to feel his cock moving inside of you.

"fucking you good baby, belong in here, yeah?"

you start nodding your head as the pressure from his hand adds to the pleasure, your hand coming down to lay over his before he grabs it and pushes it where his was laying. the moan you let out was borderline pornographic, knowing he was big enough and pumping you hard enough to feel him in your stomach. his tip continued to hit that spot inside of you that had you panting and your moans getting higher and higher.

threading your fingers through his hair, you bring his head up so you can kiss along his pretty neck and chest, leaving even prettier purple bruises all across him. but before you could continue marking him up, you throw your head back with a loud moan at the feeling of jake's fingers toying with your clit again.

"t-too much jakey, gonna cum!"

"that's what-", he gets cut off by his own loud moan as you clench harder around him, "that's what i'm aiming for baby." he leans down closer to your ear again, "wan' cum with you but if you keep squeezing me like that i'll fucking cum."

jake moves back, sitting on his knees as his thrusts continue, gripping your hips and dragging them on his dick to match his pace. they become sloppier and more desperate, as the moans he was letting out turn into higher pitch whines as he bites his lip. the moon illuminated the droplets of sweat forming at his collarbones dripping down the dips of his abs, your eyes following the trail before watching the way his soaked cock pushes in and out of you.

"fuck jakey, want it so bad!"

his eyes flit up to you despite you still watching the movement of his hips, "you want it baby? come on, give it to me and i'll cream you- fuck- i'll fill you up."

his words finally tip you over the edge, eyes closing and back arching into the air as you let out the loudest moan of the night. you hear a fuck fuck fuck before feeling jake's white hot cum fill you to the brim. his thrusts continue until neither of you can physically handle it anymore, a white ring forming around the base of his cock sticking to you and his pelvis, both of you whimpering from the overstimulation causing him to pull out, his cum seeping out of you but neither of you caring.

jake crashes down on top of you, burying his head into your neck while pressing lighter kisses than the ones he was placing on you a few minutes prior. you feel his lips trace up higher, brushing your jaw before he resting his head on his hand. you turned to face him, now in close proximity to his flushed and wet cheeks from sweat, his lips red raw and bitten, his eyes lazed and dead set on your eyes. his hair covered his forehead, stuck and messy, causing you to bring your head up to push it out of his face, his eyes closing and resting his head in the palm of your hand as your thumb caresses his cheek.

soon, your thumb drifts down to his lips, stroking the soft plush as he opens his eyes, a small smirk taking over his lips, "you want a kiss baby?"

you nod your head as he rests his elbow on the bed, stretching over you and leaning down slowly before pressing his lips against yours. this was much softer than your first kiss, the pressure of lust no longer behind it. jake's hand came up to softly grasp the side of your face, brushing your hair away before holding the side of your neck as his thumb moved gently across your jaw. as he pulled away, his nose stayed against yours, as a bright smile takes over his whole face as a chuckle escapes him.

"what's so funny?"

"can't believe we just did that...and i can't believe we have to face the boys tomorrow after it."

you whack his shoulder as you push him down to lay next to you on the bed, before crossing your leg over his as you cuddle into him.

"not my fault you got hard like a virgin with a girl in his bed for the first time."

jake scoffed before digging his finger into your side making you squirm before wrapping his arms tighter around you, his thumbs stroking your sides.

"can you blame me baby? you just looked so perfect with the moon shining on you and everything...been thinking about it all day."

you look up at him, watching him as he shuts his eyes ready to drift off.

"jake..."

he frowns at being called jake as opposed to the normal name you always gave him, and the one you had been moaning for the last half an hour.

his eyes open and look down at you, "yeah baby?"

"what are we now..."

"well i'd hope you'd be my girlfriend, thought that was a given."

you smack his chest at the mocking tone in his voice, "maybe i won't be, you've not even asked me." your head moves back to lay on his chest rather than staring up at him until you feel his grasp come back and move your head to look back up at him.

"will you please be my girlfriend baby? i'll get back on my knees if i have to."

you blush at his last sentence, images of the past events flushing your mind away from the current situation before getting back on track.

"of course i will jakey."

jake bends down to kiss you once more before tucking your head into the crook of his neck, both of you beginning to doze off with the soft breeze and moonlight basking your bodies.

THE NEXT MORNING

you and jake walk hand in hand down the stairs and into the kitchen to make breakfast, jake in nothing but a pair of sweatpants sitting low on his hips and you in a pair of his shorts and his shirt. jake moves around the kitchen with ease, pulling out random ingredients and sitting them next to where you've sat on the counter.

the sound of footsteps causes you both to freeze midway through your light conversation. sunoo walks through the doorway, rubbing his eyes and face before stopping in his tracks as he sees you two in the kitchen. the dark circles under his eyes prominent as his face stretches into a yawn.

"jesus sunoo, you good? looks like you've had no sleep."

jake asked in all seriousness and concern, like he'd forgotten the whole night. not his fault he had an amazing sleep after.

"i'll let you two decide whether i, or anyone else in this house for that matter, got enough sleep last night."

sunoo's eyes were squinted at the two of you as he pointed accusatory, making both yours and jake's faces flush more red that the apple sunoo grabbed from the side as he started walking out of the kitchen. he was about to leave and turn into the living room before stopping at the doorway and turning around, this time having a cheeky smile on his face.

"congratulations by the way, we were all wondering when it would happen judging by the way you two were eye-fucking each other yesterday but did it have to be on the day? you just made us all have to do jungwon's laundry for the week cause he won the bet."

he muttered the last bit as he walked away, jake turning back to face you with utter shock on his face, "well, can't get much worse than that reaction."

that was until you hear jay's voice boom from the hallway, followed by sunoo's cackle.

"where are they? don't laugh sunoo i'm running on two hours of sleep! you know i struggle getting back to sleep once i wake up!"

yours and jake's eyes widen before jake speaks again, "hide?"

you both start laughing as jay waltzes into the kitchen, shutting you both up as jake grabs you from the counter and sprints round the kitchen island to avoid jay running after the both of you, bolting back to his room as he throws you onto the bed.

jay stops at the door as jake collapses next to you, glaring at you both before saying, "you two are lucky i don't want to step foot in here after last night."

you both cackle before jay walks away after closing the door, turning to each other with the widest smiles stretched over your faces, leaning in to kiss each other slowly, smoothly.

if you made it down here, thank you so much for reading!!

sign out, woniesss!

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: IT'S GONNA FEEL SO GOOD, I PROMISE!

.ೃ࿐ he's dreamt about fucking you for months, and now that you're finally in his sheets, he has no intent of letting you go—especially when he finds out that he's your first time. NSFW

contents: fem!reader. virgin!reader. kinda sorta subtle coercion, corruption kink, slight dubcon, fingering, p –> v, lots of praise!!, mentions of prior dirty dreams (about you).

author's note: had this stuck in my drafts for a while so uhhhh. yea enjoy. tagging @mymegumi bc i love selene ꨄ︎

"please, baby, it'll feel so good," satoru cooes, threading his fingers through your hair and pulling your face closer to his. "i promise i'll be gentle."

you shrug, scrunching up your nose at satoru hesitantly. "i don't know..."

your boyfriend presses his lips to yours briefly and smiles tenderly. satoru's soft eyes are fixed on you, only you as he widens them pleadingly. "i wanna teach you how to fuck. please, sweetheart, we can stop anytime. jus' wanna make you feel good, i promise!"

it's only partially a lie—yes, satoru certainly wants to teach you to fuck, but he's not entirely certain that he could just stop anytime. especially because he's well aware that fucking a virgin is such an addicting experience—satoru knows you're gonna be so tight that you'll just suck him in, and he isn't that confident that he'll be able to stop once he's started.

but whatever, that's a problem for later—for now, he's focused on persuading you to spread those legs for him and show him your pretty pussy.

you pause, considering his proposal. after a couple seconds, you nod hesitantly. "you promise you'll be gentle?" you ask meekly, averting your eyes.

satoru nods, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "of course—now c'mon, let's get those clothes off of you, baby." and a couple agonizing minutes later, you're half naked underneath a shirtless satoru, and his fingers trace the inside of your thigh.

"so first, i'm gonna make you cum on my fingers, 'kay?" satoru informs you. "needa loosen you up so you can take my dick."

"o-okay," you whisper, swallowing nervously. "i'm a little scared," you admit, fiddling with the waistband of your lacy underwear. "will it hurt?"

after a moment, satoru nods in response. "at first it will. but then you're gonna feel so good, i promise."

"you promise?"

"i do."

satoru tugs down your panties and grins at the sight of your pussy, untouched and reserved just for him. he's dying to just fuck you then and there, rough and no prep, but he made a promise. and satoru has no intention of breaking it.

"ready?" he breathes, positioning his fingers just outside of your entrance. when you nod, he shakes his head. "i'm gonna need to hear it from you, baby. use your words."

"i'm r-ready," you confirm, inching your thighs farther apart for him.

"good girl."

then satoru slips his fingers inside, and you can't suppress the sudden moan that slips out of your lips. to you, it's embarrassing, but to satoru, it's music to his ears. he steadily pushes his fingers farther and farther into your tight cunt, and satoru can't help but marvel at the way you just suck him in.

"you're so fuckin' tight," satoru mumbles, eyes fixed on your pussy. "and so wet, too. i've barely even touched you, fuck."

it's agonizing, really—the sensation of having someone else's fingers inside of you is so new and so strange that you can almost ignore the pain (which is present but not as throbbing as you had feared). satoru makes sure to be as gentle as he can, which unfortunately isn't quite as gentle as you'd like—but it's not too rough for you to handle.

satoru starts widening his fingers in a scissor-like motion, stretching you farther apart to make room for his already rock-hard dick. you squirm around him and whine about how deep his fingers are, but satoru dismisses your complaints with a laugh. "c'mon, this is barely the beginning. if ya can't take this, how're you gonna take my dick?"

a couple minutes later, when satoru finally deems you loose enough, he pulls out his now-drenched fingers. looking you in the eye with a smug smile, he slips his fingers into his mouth and licks your slick off of them. "mm, you taste so good, pretty. lemme see if you feel as good as you taste, yeah?"

and that's how he convinces you to keep your thighs nice and spread wide open for him as he positions the head of his dick at your entrance, practically trembling from the effort it takes to not just pound into you. you're so compliant and perfect for satoru, and it takes every ounce of his willpower to resist the urge to push you up against the headboard and fuck you until you pass out.

but somehow, he manages to control himself. "alright, baby, this is gonna hurt," satoru warns, touching his reddening tip to your soaked pussy. "you ready?"

"y-yeah," you breathe, distantly noticing the way your hands start to tremble. satoru exhales softly and shakes his hair out of his eyes before gently pushing himself inside of you, and the first thought that enters your head is that he's ridiculously big—it feels like you're getting torn apart every second he goes in farther.

"satoruuu," you whine, starting to paw at his chest when he goes in farther, and it's too much, too fast, but he only grins down at you in response. "it hurts, ow... y're too—"

"uh uh, just shut your pretty mouth n' take it," satoru groans, shifting the angle of his hips and going in a little deeper. you cry out in pain, face scrunching up in an effort to numb the stinging sensation around your waist. satoru dips his head and kisses your forehead, murmuring praises on how well you're doing.

"it'll feel so good soon, i promise, baby," he insists, pressing his lips to the spot in between your eyes. "you're takin' me so good, fuck— agh, you're so damn tight, this one's gonna hurt like hell, but you can take it, yeah? my pretty princess, you'll do anythin' i say, won't ya..."

satoru doesn't give you a chance to respond before he says something about this being the last stretch, but his words don't really sink in until he's two more inches deep into you. his last thrust is so sudden and jarring that it makes you cry out his name, over and over and over until the pain evident on your face starts to turn into something that looks a lot like... pleasure?

a self-assured smile grows on satoru's flushed face when he sees the chance, and a thousand more words of praise fall from his lips. your vision's a little fuzzy in the corners, and your mind is all but gone—it's hard to focus on anything but the slowly fading pain.

satoru starts to move his hips back and forth, easing your loosening cunt into him and nodding at the way you slowly start to show signs of wanting more. your eyes brighten up a little and you seem more alert the longer satoru opens you up.

"startin' to feel good now?" he asks, smiling smugly when you nod your head. "yeah, told you so." the prominent blush on his face starts to creep down his neck, and when you reach up and tentatively touch his cheek, that's when he loses it.

it takes every drop of self-restraint in his body to not flip you over, face-down and ass-up and fuck your tight cunt the way he's dreamed about for months. satoru's imagined it for so long that it's practically a reality for him—the way you would whimper his name and claw at the sheets, the way you would cum all over him too many times to count, all of it. he's seen it a thousand times in his head, but having his fantasy so close and yet so far drives him insane.

but as you smile up at him, the almost unnoticeable tremble in your bottom lip assures him that this probably isn't the time. after all, you're not leaving him anytime soon, so he might as well train you first before even attempting any of that on your perfect, untouched body.

"what do i do now?" you ask, and the simplicity of the question is almost childish. especially when satoru almost laughs in response, soft blue eyes glinting with amusement.

"jus' lie there and stay pretty f'me. and keep your legs spread wiiide open," satoru cooes, shaking his hair out of his eyes only for it to fall right back in.

"yeah, you're doin' so good that i don't even buy that you were a virgin—or are you just naturally made for me, huh? maybe that's it, 'cause i swear on my life that i've never fucked a cunt this fuckin' pretty, heh."

[soulprompts]

CARING FOR THE SICK PROMPTS.

i found this list and kinda fed into it each time i got the flu or a migraine, and u know what, it's just me revealing just how much i love the caring threads and the soft threads and the fondly exasperated "let me help you" threads! use at your pleasure, DO NOT ADD TO THE LIST NOR EDIT IT! i will be changing it accordingly!

" i found you passed out in the kitchen. you wanna stop working yourself so hard? or do i need to keep hitting the gym to carry you to bed every day? "

" you're burning up. "

" your neighbour called me and said you could use a nurse. looks like they were right, too. "

" you were told to take it easy, so... yeah. this is kinda on you. "

" you took a sick day. you NEVER take a sick day. so yeah, i got worried, and i figured i'd come over and keep an eye on you. "

" you texted me a long and incoherent text that held about 90% of the emoji list and about four different languages. figured it wouldn't hurt to drop by and see how you were doing. "

" how long have you been sick for? and don't lie. "

" you look like hell. "

" i brought you some soup; let me heat some up for you? "

" okay. it's time you went to the hospital. "

" hey… hello there, sleeping beauty. you gave me a bit of a scare yesterday. how are you feeling? "

" i swear, if you even think of getting out of that bed… "

" you know when i said to call if it's an emergency? a fever is most DEFINITELY considered an emergency! "

" if you think you're going to work like this, you better think again. "

" don't worry. my family swears by this remedy; just let it work its magic and you'll feel good as new in no time. "

" I don't care about getting sick. i'm not leaving you until you're back to full health. "

" you didn't stop to think that this might happen when you're burning the candle at both ends? "

" yeah, I can play the role of nurse AND say "I told you so" at the same time, actually. "

" you better drink every last drop of this tea, no matter how disgusting it is. "

" i told my boss it was an emergency so they've given me a full week to look after you. "

" quit being so stubborn and get into BED! "

" what part of doctor's orders hasn't sunk in yet? bed rest! for the WEEK! "

" right, where do you keep your saucepans? i'm going to make you my famous noodle soup. it's a cure-all, i'm telling you! "

" hey, unless you're going to the bathroom or the sofa, I don't want to see you out of that bed. got it? "

" when are you gonna start letting people look after you, huh? "

" i know, i know, i turned off all the lights once i figured you had the migraine. you want some tea? water? "

" don't be mad, but i saw your fridge, and... it frightened me. so i've taken you back to my place, and i'm gonna get deliveroo to bring some groceries to your place tomorrow. okay? "

" i know your appetite is a little off, so i ordered in a whole tonne of options. just try a little bit of something, please? for me? "

" i've brought half a pharmacy, enough movies and boardgames to last us a decade, and every single snack i could fit into the basket at the grocery store. so sit your butt down, eat your soup, and try and make the most of your bed rest for the next week, will you? "

ACTION PROMPTS ( SEND THE FULL LINE! and feel free to reverse if u wish! ):

[ TOUCH ]: sender gently rests a hand against the receiver's forehead to check their temperature.

[ DAMP ]: sender presses a cool cloth against the receiver's face, neck and forehead to try and lower their fever.

[ BLANKET ]: sender wraps another blanket around the receiver to try and stop them from shivering.

[ SPOON ]: sender gently coaxes spoons of soup into the receiver's mouth to build up their strength after an illness.

[ CARRY ]: sender, finding the receiver weakened/unconscious on the floor, immediately lifts them up and carries them back to bed.

[ AROUND ]: sender keeps a protective arm around the receiver to help them walk without the risk of stumbling or collapsing.

[ STAY ]: sender decides to stay by the receiver's bedside after learning that they're sick.

[ HAIR ]: sender smooths back the receiver's hair in a soothing gesture to try and help them go back to sleep.

[ TILT ]: sender tips a bottle of water up for the receiver to sip from.

[ HUM ]: sender hums/sings to soothe a sick receiver back to sleep.

[ BACK ]: sender gently rubs the receiver's back, either to soothe them or warm them while they're unwell.

[ SHARE ]: sender climbs into the receiver's sickbed with them, wrapping their arms around them to offer warmth and comfort.

[ SHOWER ]: sender, learning the receiver has a high fever, takes a cold shower with them in order to lower their temperature.

[ WAKEN ]: the receiver wakes up in bed, having been found unconscious by the sender and carried into the bed from the floor.

[ QUARANTINE ]: the sender and receiver, both being sick, decide to quarantine together and spend the recovery period with each other.

[fleurvi]

Service top Vi

cw: smut (minors dni), fem!reader

Vi is whipped. She's completely head over heels for you. She carries boxes, your bags, your heels when you're drunk, you. She pays for you to get your nails done and buys you dinner. And, to everyone else's chagrin, she won't shut the fuck up about you. She constantly finds ways to make any conversation she engages in about you. At some point, she just starts referring to you as her wife because she's so fucking sure about your relationship.

Her devotion doesn't end when you get home though. She decides the best way to show devotion is through worship. She lays you down against the bedsheets, voice firm as she tells you how beautiful you look. She travels kisses over every inch of skin she can get to, offering compliments as she goes. Her hands are gentle as she undresses you. When she travels back up to your mouth and gives you a proper kiss, you feel lightheaded, overwhelmed by the feeling of love she pours into it.

She shuffles down the bed, using her strong hands to part your thighs as she lowers between them. Her mouth is right above your pussy, and you're so worked up you might cry. She doesn't mean to keep you waiting; you're just so pretty, and she loves to stare at you. When you whine out a soft please, threading your hand through her hair, she shakes her head.

“Baby, you don't have to beg. I'll give you whatever you want,” she says as she finally swipes her tongue over your pussy, sucking your clit into her mouth. She moans against you like she's devouring a five-course meal. She is.

She eats you out with the same passion she throws into everything she does for you. Your pleasure is her pleasure. She's studied your body like the piece of artwork it is. She knows how to elicit the most incredible noises from you. She presses two fingers to your hole, smiling against your cunt at the way you moan when she pushes them inside you. The added stimulation pushes you towards your orgasm. Her other arm is steady and holds you down as she works on pleasing you. Taking care of you is always her top priority. The mere act of pleasing you is a stress reliever. Though she'd deny her obvious praise kink if you asked her, she can't help the way she's encouraged when you tell her how good she makes you feel.

Your orgasm hits you, and your grip on Vi's hair becomes harsher, tugging at the hair as she continues to work you through it. “Atta girl, let it all out”, she praises as your back arches away from the sheet. When you come back down, Vi pulls her fingers from you and licks them clean. She's a little obnoxious with her noises but just wants to show you how much she loves your taste.

“Was that good for you, baby?”

You nod.

“Good. Now, how many more do you want?”

[somnoir]

Damian's future husband

Got inspired by this specific line in a Tumblr thread and my brain went to work

Phantom was a strange hero—a vigilante that often worked with Justice League Dark. Constantine was always so antsy around the man, while Phantom himself often muttered about taxes and blasted fragments whenever said trech coat man was in the vicinity.

The Bats were, of course, initially apprehensive of the death defying being that could rip a man skeleton out of their body, manipulate space itself to rip open portals to different dimensions, and vanish better than they did. They were wary, mildly hostile after realising that Phantom had now issue killing.

But then time passed and Phantom was proven to not be a serial killer but only used killing as a last resort. Though Batman wasn't too pleased, he was—begrudgingly—tolerant of that. Because, yes, Phantom was a nice guy, a very likeable person in general. He made sure that the environmental damage during battles were kept to a minimum, he chose civilians over the enemy whenever it came to hostage situations, he was tactile and kind, and he cared so much for the innocent that he was willing to lose his innocence to keep theirs.

Of course Batman was fond of the young man, especially when he found out that Jason of all people had some sort of crush on him. A very big and almost pathetic one that he and Alfred would watch while sipping tea.

Seriously, Jason was his son! Has he not learned anything from his Brucie persona? The poor thing was like a Victorian maiden and would be scandalised at the mere thought of showing an ankle.

It was embarrassing how he'd practically start blue screening the moment Phantom was in the vicinity. As a father, Bruce was gracious enough not to bully his poor son whenever it came to Phantom. His siblings, on the other hand, held no such qualms and mercilessly dug into Jason.

In all honesty, he pitied Jason after hearing that Phantom assumed that Jason just didn't like him.

He really had to talk to him.

"You fucking hypocrite."

And that was a failure because Bruce forgot that he was just as constipated as his son.

"I'm not taking advice from the man who couldn't even try to be softer in his secret crush!"

With that, Jason slammed the door and left.

Okay... Plan B?

But what the hell was plan B?

Right.

Dick Grayson.

Bruce: About your brother...

Bird child #1: OH MY GOD

Bird child #1: THANK FUCK YOU FINALLY MENTIONED IT

Bruce: it's become an issue

Bruce: Alfred has commented that it's pathetic now.

Bird child #1: Wait wait

Bird child #1: I'll add you to the group chat!

And this Bruce Wayne found himself in a GC named 'Phantom of the Watchtower'. Along with all the complaints expressed by both family and friends when it came to Jason's bullshit.

Ah well... At least he wasn't alone in the suffering.

(Jason did not need to know that there was a video of him grappling through Gotham, Phantom passing by and waving at him, and Jason proceeding to hit a wall mid flight.)

Dick knows that his little wing has had trouble in relationships for a long time. His resurrection changed him, changed how he perceived his relationships. Dick didn't have the heart to be mad about it.

Phantom's arrival was a breath of fresh air for them.

But he suspects that Jason's attraction began with the fact that Phantom had died young as well. Fourteen from what was said. He had died much younger than Jason and had came back a hero, willing to protect the innocent and do what was best for those around him. Sometimes Dick suspects that Jason not only wanted to be with Phantom, but also to be similar to him.

Now he's watching Jason fumble with his words again, immediately going quiet once he realized that nothing coherent was coming out of his mouth. The helmet most likely hid how red his face was.

"Are you alright?" Phantom asked, frowning up at Jason. "You don't feel too good. Is the corrupted ecto acting up again? Oh, I knew I should have sped up the process of removing it but then it'd be very painful if I did it at once. And Frostbite recommended that we went slowly so we could monitor the side effect... And, and—"

"I'm okay." Red Hood immediately assured, his hand practically flying to Phantom's cheek then he shoved it down before he could even touch Phantom. "It's been a long day."

"Is the Joker out again?" Phantom's frown deepened.

Another thing Dick has learned about the dead and the undead! The fact that their murderer was still active unsettled then greatly and affected their entire mentality and behaviour.

"No. No. He hasn't tried escaping."

Phantom hummed, "I see. So what's bothering you."

"It's nothing." Jason grunted, sounding a little too much like Bruce for Dick's liking.

Okay, nope, he wasn't going to let this continue if his baby brother was going to continue making Phantom assumed he didn't like him. Nightwing to the rescue!

"Phantom! Hi!" Nightwing quite literally dropped into the alley, running his fingers through his hair and smoothly directing Jason away from whatever catastrophic misunderstanding he was walking into.

"Hello Nightwing! It's nice to see you again? How's Kori? Oooh! I wanted to invite her to a space date again—" He rambled on and on, eyes practically starry. Wait, nevermind. His eyes really were starry.

(Meanwhile, Jason was cursing his older brother for taking the attention from but also very thankful that Phantom didn't have to witness his stupidity again.)

Tim had noticed that the Joker hasn't attempted to break out in a long... Long time.

It's not a bad thing, no. It was great, in all honesty. But of course, Tim was paranoid, almost batshir crazy (pun intended, in the words of his damn boyfriends). The surveillance feed on Arkham was updated a long time ago, watching it very closely until static overtook the screen.

"Replacement," Tim startled, blinking before he saw Jason peering at him with a questioning look. Practically interrogating him on the spot. "The hell is that?"

"I don't know." Tim clicked his tongue, "This hasn't happened after Babs and I updated those damn cameras. Fuck, give me a second..."

"Did the Joker get out?" Jason practically growled.

"No, no. I'm sure he didn't. He would have been causing trouble by now." Tim reassured, clicking his tongue again before the feed went back to normal. Joker's cell seemed perfectly fine, with the Joker fast asleep on his little cot. "See, just some static. Maybe Phantom passed by."

The mere mention of Phantom has Jason blue screening, instincts kicking in as his older brother shoved his helmet over his head again. Then the idiot gets on his bike and speeds out of the cave.

Coward.

Tim whipped his head around, quickly surveying the area.

The static wasn't random. Phantom always had to be in front of the camera to directly affect the feed. So thank fuck when he made friends with Phantom's teammate—Pharaoh—and figured out how to fix any distorted imagery.

He sees Phantom standing over the Joker's unconscious body, plunging his hand into the maniac's chest and pulled out a glowing green orb. A core, from what he remembered. Holy shit, was the Joker a ghost too?

But he saw how Phantom seemed to put restraints around it, literal chains before shoving it back inside.

Slowly, Phantom turned to the camera, his entire figure still distorted, but he could see that fanged grin that his brother seemed to swoon over.

(The Joker was still alive, very much, but no one could understand how he was stuck in an almost permanent coma. Tim wasn't going to give Jason even more reason to start giggling over Phantom, unless he wanted to ruin the entire Dead on Main operation.)

Damian did not quite understand the insanity that was multiple individuals (including those that were not of their brood) attempting to matchmake Todd with Phantom. He didn't understand what was so great about Phantom, in all honesty.

He was heroic, powerful, and quite intelligent. Many people held similar traits. Perhaps it was the fact that he was a deathly being that attracted Todd in the first place.

"Hello, Robin!" Phantom greeted one day, eyes shimmering like the stars in his cape. "Superboy said you had something to tell me?"

Damian shifted slightly, "Yes. Are you aware of the Lazarus Pits?"

"Ah... Yes, of course. My court and I have been trying to destroy all of them. The Lazarus is corrupted ectoplasm that has been mixed with filth of all kinds." Phantom hummed.

"Filth of all kinds... Disgusting." Damian frowned, nose scrunching up at the memory that he's bathed in those pits before. "But I digress. I would like to assist in the destruction of the pits. Father and the rest of the family has fretted over my grandfather's pits for many years and we have barely grazed the surface on what the Lazarus truly was."

"I see! I was planning on asking Batman to help out on that. But since you've already asked, would you like to come to the Realms? I'm sure you can interrogate some of the ghosts your grandfather has wronged." Phantom grinned, already offering Damian a hand. He was floating, while Damian stood in the roof and stared at the hand.

It reminded him of the kryptonians. But Phantom's hand was cold and he didn't yank Damian the same way Jon often did.

No, Phantom took Damian's hand and then proceeded to hook an arm around Damian's waist, pulling him of the roof and into the air. And then they were flying into a glowing green portal that reminded Damian of the pits.

The moment they were in the infinite realms, Damian felt the overwhelming pressure of the dead. He swallowed the bile that rose from his throat as Phantom set him down on solid ground. The entire place felt eerie and strange, of course it was. This was the afterlife.

"Right, I forgot." Phantom cursed, "You're not as liminal as my family. Give me a second, baby bat." He murmured, his hand glowing green before it's gently pushed into Damian's chest. A sudden wave of warmth overtook his entire body and Damian stared at the ghost.

"I'm giving you a bit of Ecto to reduce any discomfort here in the realms. It'll flush itself out in 24 hours so don't worry about becoming overly liminal." Phantom smiled softly, before he offered his hand to Damian again. "Let's go? I have to stop by my keep to check the records of Al Ghuls victims."

"Of course."

And instead of being carried like a cat, Phantom picked him up bridal style and flew past what seemed to be floating islands and towards a large red and purple castle.

Is this was Todd feels? Damian asked himself, oddly enjoying this experience.

The moment they landed—

"Your majesty!" A floating eyeball yelled, rushing towards them. "You've brought an outsider—"

"Away with you." Phantom snapped, a crown and cape of stars suddenly appearing on him. "This is Robin. Ra's Al Ghul's grandchild."

"The Demon's head..."

"Yes, now shoo." Phantom snapped, before leading Damian away from the eyeball. "I'm sorry for my Observants. They're a conservative bunch."

"You are a king?"

"Mhm... Though I don't like to advertise it. The last king was a tyrant and I defeated him a little while after my death. I never intended to be king, in all honesty. But here I am." He gestured to the crown of fire and ice and the cape of stars. His grin was strained and quite troubled but he didn't mind leading Damian towards a large room filled with bigger files.

"Now, would you like to search yourself or do you want me to have someone else do it?"

Damian grimaced at the sight. "I'd prefer for someone else to suffer."

And that's how Damian found himself touring the realms, with Phantom happily bringing Damian to the arena where a ghost named Skulker awaited them. The man was a hunter, respectful towards Phantom yet troublesome as he challenged him. Phantom looked utterly annoyed, before he turned to Damian with sparkling eyes.

"What about you, Robin?"

And then Damian was fighting everyone and everything in the realms at the behest and amusement of Phantom. The ghost king provided him with different weapons each time an enemy switched.

It's only when they returned to the land of the living that he's informed that any weapon he's used is now his.

And he has a cat with him! The ghost of a small yet ferocious kitten that had his under Phantom's cape whilst Damian and other ghosts fought to glorious battle. Phantom kindly offered her to him, naming her Astra with the star shaped pupils in her eyes.

Damian is quite sure he has fallen in love.

Damian returns to the manor, utterly awestruck and infatuated. Thankfully (unfortunately), Todd is in attendance when Phantom carries him out of the portal, still held in a bridal carry with Damian actively clinging to Phantom like he had hung the stars (maybe he did).

"Sorry if we worried you! Robin wanted to help with our Lazarus problems since it's also your problem too." Phantom quickly explains once he saw Batman's troubled expression. "Don't worry about your gifts. I'll figure out a way to make you a dimensional bag."

Damian stared, "May I visit the realms again? If you would be amendable to it."

"Of course! You're my favorite, so why wouldn't I?"

Hah! Hear that? Take that, Todd!

Phantom vanishes into his portal seconds later, leaving Damian with the most beautiful and intricated sword in his hands. Blinking quietly, he whirled around and pointed the sword at Jason, who instinctively went into a battle stance.

"You may be my brother, Todd, but if you have not married Phantom once I am of age, I shall fight for his hand in marriage himself."

(Jason knows very well that Damian isn't joking and proceeds to practically plan the most novel-esque confession to date. Jane Austen might just be proud.)

Masterpost

[orphicsun]

hi hi

we all know ellie’s a loser but can we pls get some subtop ellie pretty please with a cherry on top :3

warnings: subtop!ellie, use of strap-ons(e!), accidental orgasms

Sex is a timeline, if you think about it in such a way.

The chase: it's either with a lover or a stranger who looks just right underneath party lights and with enough liquid courage in your system. Sometimes, it may be a simple 'are you in the mood?' from your spouse. The build-up: the one thing plenty of men can't seem to understand. You need to take a needle and thread to sex, gently weave in and out before you finish the entire thing. The urgency that pairs with the rise as you try to hold back your orgasm because the way your partner leaves those sloppy kisses on your neck isn't helping. The orgasm being the infamous matter and the usual goal, and then the fall. That steep fall back down to the green Earth.

With Ellie, though? Sex isn't a chronological timeline. It is defined with many pit stops that may affectionately annoy you and altogether frustrate you past your body's needy limits.

Your girlfriend is already on top of you, lounging casually between your legs. Your eyes are glued to the tv. It's something you take interest in, but Ellie is restless.

"Babe.." She pries her hands from underneath your waist from which they were wrapped around and playfully squeezes the fat of your boobs.

"Hm?" You give her half your attention, but it isn't enough. She is now seeking more.

"Closet trip?" Ellie suggests. It's code for "Can I the strap-on from the closet and fuck your brains out?"

You don't bite, though. It's the chase that you prolong. You know it's worth it to savor her, reel her in as she gives this her all. Because the second she is inside your silken heat, you know what happens.

Sex with Ellie isn't chronological.

"Right now?" You play dumb.

Ellie scoffs lightly; you're cute, though. "Yeah, right now. But..you can say no if you don't want to."

But even as she speaks, Ellie deflates and desperates all the same. She removes her hands from your tits to squeeze your sides, and then she simply frees you from her grasp. She is a smart cookie, you'll give her that.

“Sure. Lemme turn this show off.” Ellie is already rushing. to your closet. The chase was a victory.

Ellie's build-up is sliding through your fold and nudging at your clit until she can't stand it anymore, needing to be inside of you. Like I said, the sex Ellie gives you isn't the usual. The foreplay last night was nearly two hours worth, and now you get this.

"Can I put it in, babe?" Ellie offers the question with a neediness to her tone, offering you an out before..well, before the unique process of sex with Ellie.

"You wanna fuck me, Ellie? Are you gonna make me cum?"

She huffs a needy breath, panting like a dog into your ear. "Mmmhmm..wanna feel your pussy, pleasepleaseplease."

"C'mon, sweetie. I wanna feel you inside me already."

Ellie doesn't hesitate to spread your lips with the smooth tip of the toy until your slick coats it. Then she eagerly pushes into your hole, soft whimpers leaving her throat as if she can really feel you around her.

She has to freeze mid-stroke just to collect herself, not even bottomed-out in your tightness. She is losing all train of thought just being inside you, and is honestly a little terrified she may just start pounding into your cunt with reckless abandon. She has to control herself, though.

"Your pussy's so sweet, baby. It feels so good being in you..i love being in you.." she blabbers, half-incoherent.

You stifle a whimper. "Yeah? Can you start moving, Ellie?"

Ellie gives you a quick, enthusiastic nod and immediately begins to fuck you. You can't contain your moans at the feeling of her skin against yours, her own arousal noticeably dripping down the harness and her freckled, pale thighs.

And she fully loses her ability to do anything but move her hips as you leave scratch marks far down her broad back. It's own of your favorite features on her—despite her lean, janky build that you fantasize about when you're alone, her back is a contrast to it, and that is why it's always covered in pink scratch lines.

You're quite close after enough movements. Ellie is eager and fast, but it's that which turns you on. It's the way she mewls while she's deep in your pussy, the fact that she wants to be deep enough to make your cervix feel her the next day. You'll be sore from the sweet little, frankly sloppy thrusts she gives you. It's worth it, though.

But you know Ellie, you've done this many times before. You can't be surprised when she thrusts sputter until she ultimately stops on top of your body. She lets out a soft noise.

"S-Sorry, babe..I got really tired. Mind taking over for me?" She sounds almost like a puppy who got into the trash. It makes you clench around her despite the lack of friction.

"No problem." You find yourself soon situated on her lap, sinking back down onto her. The sight is something Ellie has to take a mental snap of and shamelessly finger herself when thinking of later—your hands supporting yourself so closely together that your tits are pressed in a delicious sight. Your hair is messy from previously just laying back against the pillow and taking her until now, and your lips.. they're moving towards her.

While you and Ellie share a wet, filthy kiss, the back of your thighs meet the edges of her waist. Your hips move slightly back and forth, raising and sinking back down. Your eyes flutter, half-lidded and struggling to stay open. Moments like these are the ones Ellie wants to open her sketchbook for and scratch away, wanting to capture each and every sensation and visual. It's impossible to replicate this moment, however.

Sex with Ellie isn't chronological at all. Before you're even feeling a sign of an impending orgasm from your body, she is shuddering beneath you, her body suddenly squirming before she goes still under you, slumped against the bed. The way you were moving must've rubbed her clit raw underneath her adornment.

You cease your movements. "Did you..?"

She nods and catches her breath. "Sorry. I can finish you off if you need?" She sweetly offers, grabbing your hips with those bony fingertips of hers, ready to flip you back over.

And the cycle begins.

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[meleeyz]

┈﹒ ꒰ 𝗩𝗜𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗥'𝗦 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗘 ꒱

ekko 𝒙 fem!reader ┊ viktor 𝒙 fem!reader (platonic)

୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled

୨୧ I don't know, I just thought it would be a fun dynamic, enjoy!

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

𓆤 Ekko crashing into you on his hoverboard was how it all began. It happened during one of your hurried trips back to Zaun after a grueling week in Piltover’s laboratories. You were distracted, engrossed in your mental checklist of materials Viktor had asked you to bring. You didn't even notice the faint whir of Ekko’s hoverboard until it was too late.

“Hey, watch—” Ekko started, his voice sharp with alarm before cutting off mid-sentence as the two of you collided.

You landed flat on your back with a groan, Viktor's precious schematics flying out of your bag. Ekko was quick to get up and extend a hand to help you up.

“Oh crap, I didn’t mean to—uh, are you okay?” Ekko asked with a sheepish grin.

“You should really watch where you’re going!” you snapped, brushing yourself off. Then your eyes locked. It was hard to stay mad at someone who looks like they actually cared.

From then on, every return trip to Zaun seemed incomplete without bumping into him, either by accident or by his deliberate attempts to "run into" you.

𓆤 Ekko had mixed feelings about your constant back-and-forth trips. He understood why you had to be in Piltover so much—your apprenticeship under Viktor was important—but that didn’t mean he liked it.

“You know, it’s kinda unfair,” he said one evening, as the two of you sat on the rooftop of a crumbling Zaun building. The view of the Undercity's twinkling lights stretched around you, and the new prototype of his hoverboard leaned against the nearby wall. “Piltover gets you all day, and Zaun just gets you at night.”

𓆤 Ekko loved your sharp mind. In fact, he found your involvement with Hextech fascinating, even if he teased you endlessly about being a “Piltover nerd.”

“Look at you, little Miss Zaunite Hextech Genius,” he’d say with a smirk as he watched you tinker with a device. “All fancy with your gears and crystals. Can you make something that doesn’t explode?”

You rolled your eyes.

“This is for science. Not for impressing you.”

“Oh, but you already impress me.” He’d wink, leaning over your shoulder to inspect your work. His genuine curiosity often led to him offering ideas that somehow worked, despite his lack of formal training. You suspected his innate knack for mechanics rivaled even Viktor’s.

𓆤 Ekko would often stop by you house in Undercity unannounced, bringing little gifts—scrap metal he thought you could use or metal flowers that he made with his own hands for you

𓆤 You, in turn, would surprise him with modifications for his hoverboard or gadgets to help the Firelights. His reaction to your gifts was always the same: pure delight.

𓆤 Leaving aside the jokes, he loved watching you work, claiming it was “like seeing genius in action.” You’d laugh and tell him to stop distracting you, but his presence always made the hours fly by.

𓆤 The two of you shared countless late-night conversations on rooftops, swapping dreams and fears.

𓆤 It started subtly. Ekko’s laugh lingered in your mind longer than it should have. His voice, the way he said your name, echoed in your thoughts while you worked. You found yourself doodling in the margins of your notes, spiraling into daydreams that left you blushing.

𓆤 Viktor initially didn’t think much of Ekko—at least not directly. He only knew of him through your constant chatter.

“Ekko said this really clever thing about—” “Ekko helped me figure out how to—” “Ekko...”

Eventually, Viktor sighed and set down his pen.

“I can’t believe you’re getting so worked up about some guy,” he said, exasperation lacing his words.

“This one is different!” you protested, fidgeting with a loose thread on your sleeve. “He’s honest, he’s sweet—”

“Please…”

“He would never do anything to hurt me!”

Viktor raised an eyebrow.

“He’s a guy.”

“He’s also... brilliant. And kind... and handsome... and—”

“Oh shit, here we go again…” He exhaled, completely tired.

𓆤 The meeting happened in Piltover, under less-than-ideal circumstances. You’d convinced the Academy to grant you temporary access to the lab for a personal project, ostensibly Hextech-related. In truth, you were helping Ekko repair an broken stabilizer for the Firelights

You thought you were being sneaky. You were wrong.

Viktor appeared in the doorway, cane tapping against the marble floor. His eyes immediately landed on the device in Ekko’s hands and then flicked to you.

“And what,” he asked dryly, “is going on here?”

Ekko froze, looking like a child caught stealing candy. You scrambled to explain, words tumbling out in a panicked mess.

To your surprise, Viktor didn’t explode. Instead, he regarded Ekko with quiet intensity. After a long pause, he nodded.

“You have talent,” he said to Ekko. “Perhaps more than you deserve.”

Ekko grinned, clearly amused. “Thanks? I think?”

From then on, Viktor tolerated Ekko’s presence, though he would often sigh dramatically whenever you brought him up in conversation.

𓆤 The news of Viktor’s declining health hit you like a blow. For all his brilliance, your mentor was mortal, and the idea of losing him felt unbearable. You confided in Ekko, who held you as you cried, his quiet strength grounding you.

“He’s proud of you, you know,” Ekko said softly, stroking your back. “He might not say it, but he is.”

Those words stayed with you, offering comfort during the hardest days.

𓆤 As Viktor’s condition worsened, he grew more reflective. One day, he called you into his office. You found him gazing out the window, his frail frame silhouetted against the light.

“You’ve been a good apprentice,” he said without turning around. “Better than I deserved.”

“Don’t say that,” you whispered, your throat tight.

He turned to face you, his expression soft despite the lines of pain etched into his face.

“I’m sorry I won’t be there for your wedding day.”

Your eyes widened.

“What—?”

“I’m not blind,” he said with a faint smile. “Or deaf. That boy... he makes you happy.”

Tears welled in your eyes.

“He does.”

“Then go to him,” Viktor said gently. “And live. Live, my dear. Work, yes, but also live. With him.”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚