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prettyfastcars · 7 months

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Darkest little paradise | Mob!Lewis

Summary: You and Lewis are childhood best friends. You know him better than anyone, and you’re one of the few people he actually trusts fully. But Lewis has been keeping secrets from you. And when you find out exactly what he's been hiding, nothing is ever the same again.

Themes: mob!lewis, angst, smut, possessive!lewis, virgin!reader, fluff, slight degrading kink, explicit language, slightly dark!mob!lewis, friends to enemies to lovers ish

Out of all places, he didn’t expect to find you out on your balcony drinking by yourself.

Lewis had received a phone call from your very worried father earlier, the latter told him that you weren’t picking up any calls, and asked him to check on you to see what was wrong. Your parents were travelling and they were worried about you being alone when they suspected that you were upset.

Lewis was confused as to why you didn’t reach out to him if you were really upset. Usually you texted him regarding every minor happening throughout the day.

“Hey, princess,” He called out gently, stepping out onto the penthouse balcony to join you. “Your dad called me, he wanted me to see how you were doing. Everything… alright?”

Dumb question, he knew. Of course nothing was alright if you were out here drinking alone. You looked like you had been crying too. Puffy red eyes, dried tears on your cheek. It was night time, and the city sparkled below like a shimmery tapestry. Yet you looked devastated, like you couldn’t even bring yourself to admire the citylights.

The moment you looked up and met Lewis’ eyes, you felt like running into his arms and crying again. Lewis had always been your safe place. You two grew up together. Your families had been friends for decades. Your father and Lewis did business together, both of them powerful, feared, and respected in this city. But to you he was just your best friend. He was there right beside you for everything; school, high school, uni, graduation, vacations, all your good days and bad days, everything.

But you knew you would feel dizzy if you got up so you remained seated on the lounge chair, sipping on more wine. You were one and a half bottles down.

When you remained quiet, Lewis walked up to you and stood by the chair just watching you. He could tell you were a bit drunk, but the bottles of wine weren’t his main concern.

He was more bothered by what you were wearing.

Your families had been on enough vacations around the world for Lewis to have seen you in all sorts of swimwear. But right now, as you were dressed in nothing but dark red, lacy, see-through lingerie, it felt risqué and intimate. Thankfully you had a satin robe on, though it didn’t leave much to the imagination. It was driving Lewis insane. He had to clench his fists and take a deep breath in order to get his brain to function properly, and not be distracted by the amount of skin that you were showing.

Did someone, other than him, see you like this?

“Why are you dressed like that?” He tried his best to keep his displeasure hidden, but if you had been sober enough you would’ve surely caught the bitterness and jealousy in his voice.

You looked up at him, and sighed. Everything seemed blurry in your drunken state.

“You look so handsome,” You murmured, then chuckled humorlessly. “Were you out doing scary things while looking insanely good again?” You teased, and sipped on your wine again. He did look good, then again he always did. But right now, dressed in an all black suit, his braids tied into a low ponytail, his chains and rings… “Your nose stud looks extra sparkly tonight.” You commented, hiccuping after.

Lewis let out a sigh, then shoved his hands in his pockets. “Why are you dressed like that? And why are you drinking alone? Did something happen?” He asked.

That made you tear up again as his questions allowed the hurt to come flooding back in again. After a few seconds of silence, you answered, “I had a date tonight.”

“What?” Lewis’ blood pumped faster than ever.

You repeated, sounding more upset than earlier and on the verge of crying. “I had a date tonight.”

He waited for you to give him more details, unsure of what to say.

You continued, beginning to slur a little. “We were gonna have a cute date night. I made dinner, I got all dressed up,” You went to take another sip of wine but Lewis snatched your glass from you, and the look in his eyes told you that you weren’t getting that glass back. You sighed and resumed talking, “But he didn’t show up. I texted him, I called, I waited for an hour. Then his text came and he said he doesn’t feel like he’s ready for a relationship and what not.”

“Well, at least he didn’t waste your time.” He said, trying to sound supportive. “If he didn’t like you, then–,”

You cut him off, “I don’t care about being liked. I wanted him to fuck me.”

Lewis froze again. His hand around the wine glass tightened to a point where he thought it might shatter but it didn’t. “Is that why you’re wearing that?”

You rolled your eyes at him dramatically, “What do you think, Lew?”

His hands were shaking. He didn’t know how to react to that. The two of you had been close all these years, but this was new territory. “Let’s get inside.” He said, already walking away expecting you to follow him.

But you didn’t move.

“What’s wrong with me?” You asked, making Lewis stop and turn around to face you again. Once you met his eyes again, you asked, “Why does this always happen to me?” You sniffled, wiping the tears that fell down your cheeks. “Am I not pretty enough?”

Lewis sighed and walked over to where you sat. He placed the wine glass down and grabbed you by the arms, pulling you up. He kept an arm around you because he knew you’d be dizzy. “Who said you’re not pretty, princess?”

You looked at him with teary eyes. “Then why doesn’t anyone want me?”

He pulled you closer, looking at you with soft eyes. “Maybe he’s an idiot. Maybe he’s–,”

“But it’s not just him.” You sniffled, followed by a sob. “Everyone I’ve ever dated, they…” You hiccuped, “No one ever wants me. Everything feels great on the first dates, but then something always happens and they just… leave. Most of them never even tell me why, they just ghost me.”

Lewis kept his poker face on as you wrapped your arms around him, finally feeling safe enough in his arms to cry your heart out. You sobbed, not worried about how your nearly naked body pressed up against him. You didn’t know you were driving him mad.

“I just wanna feel wanted. And desired.” You cried on his shoulder, and he hugged you until your sobs fading into soft sniffles. “I want to experience things too, I deserve it, don’t I?” Lewis’ arms were warm around you, and that was all you needed. “I just wanna feel pretty.”

“But you are pretty.” Lewis said, his voice soft and quiet. “You’re the prettiest girl I know.”

You were quiet for a few moments, then said, “But even you don’t want me.”

Lewis froze for a moment, then pulled away quickly, cupping your face so you’d look at him. “What’s gotten into you?”

More tears fell down your face silently, Lewis wiped them away. This was way different than all the times he comforted you. There was a line you were both crossing here and you both knew that.

“If we weren’t best friends, and if I’d let you–”

“You’re drunk.” Lewis cut you off.

But you continued, sniffling. “Would you? Would you want me, Lew? Am I pretty enough for you?” Before Lewis could answer, you grabbed his hand and guided it over to your chest. Another fell down your cheek.

“Stop.” Lewis warned.

“Please…” You whispered, placing his hand over the lacy material covering your breast. The warmth of his hand made you shiver. “I’d let you do anything.” Your voice dropped to a whisper.

Lewis fought himself to remain in control. He could feel your racing heartbeats, your warmth and the softness of your skin. You were upset and hurting, and if he did anything, it would be wrong because clearly you weren’t thinking straight.

One moment he was looking at you like he was in pain, and the next he pulled his hand away from your chest and wrapped it around your throat instead, making your eyes widen at the sudden rough movement.

“Stop saying shit like that.” He hissed, in a lowered voice he had never used on you before. He tightened his grip around your neck just enough to have your full attention. “Now get inside, take this fucking outfit off of you and get some sleep.” His dark brown eyes stared into yours. “Stop acting like a needy brat, and do as I say.”

With that he let go of you, pushing you away carefully. You wiped your tears and basically ran inside your penthouse.

Lewis stayed out on the spacious balcony for a while longer, mainly to calm himself down but also waiting for his throbbing erection to calm down as well. Fuck. He wasn’t expecting that.

After a while, Lewis walked back into your penthouse. He went straight into your bedroom and found you sulking in bed. Thank fuck you were not wearing that flimsy lacy thing anymore. It looked like you had had a shower as well.

He grabbed a cold water bottle from your mini fridge and brought it over to you, sitting down on the edge of your bed as he handed it to you after taking the cap off. You accepted it quietly and took a few sips.

He noticed you were avoiding his eyes. “Talk to me.” He said. He hated it whenever you two fought or argued, which you very rarely did.

“I’m sorry.” You finally whispered, “I wasn’t thinking.”

“I know. You don’t have to apologise.” He stood up, and said, “Look, I have to fly somewhere for work. I’ll see you back at your father’s house in a few days, okay?”

Every fortnight Lewis and your dad got together to discuss business, and your families used that as an excuse for a get together each time. You nodded, still avoiding his eyes.

“Hey,” Lewis bent down and tapped you on the nose playfully. “Don’t worry too much. Get some sleep, you need it.”

He gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead, and didn’t leave until you gave him a faint smile back.

—

Lewis couldn’t get that night out of his head. He was being plagued with what ifs. What if he had taken your offer? What if you two had slept together? Would you have woken up and regretted it? What would have happened if you found out that he was responsible for scaring away every man who ever tried to date you? Would you hate him? Would he lose you?

No. He couldn’t lose you. You were his best friend. All he ever wanted was to keep you away from assholes who could never treat you right. One of those assholes being that guy who turned you down that night he found you drinking on the balcony. Lewis was the reason behind that text the guy sent you.

He hated it, indirectly being the reason behind why you were upset after each failed relationship.

Which is why he swore to never let you know what he did behind your back each time a man showed even the slightest bit of interest in you. He would never let you know how he stalked them. How he found every dirty secret about them and held it over their heads. How he often had to get physical and anonymously beat them up. How he followed and kept an eye on you from a distance each time you went on a date.

But he couldn’t tell you the truth, could he? He couldn’t tell you that he was the one who threatened every boyfriend you’d ever had. He could tell you that he told them if they touched you, he would kill them. He couldn’t tell you that he had been doing that since you had your first boyfriend in high school.

He had lost count of how many times he’d followed the men home and held his gun to their heads until they deleted your number and promised to leave the city. He hated that you got hurt in the process, each time. But this was necessary, wasn’t it?

After all, you were his. Why should anyone else have you?

He had waited his entire life for you to see him in that way. For you to realise that he was right there, and that he could treat you right. What sucked the most was that the first time you ever showed interest in him in that way, that night on the balcony, you were not sober at all. Lewis felt like an afterthought. And he hated it.

But he was a patient man. He had waited years, and he would wait some more if that’s what it took for you to see him in that light.

—

Your families, as per usual, got together at your father’s mansion for your biweekly lunch. Lunch and business talk were just excuses anyway. All of you just used the time to catch up, cook together, lounge by the pool, play games. And it always, always ended up becoming like a weekend getaway for everyone.

Lewis looked forward to it, as he always did. Not to discuss business with your father but just to see you. When you were kids you two used to never sleep during these weekends. You’d build forts, and get lost in the hedge maze and play by the pool for hours. As you got older, playtime turned into movie nights.

But this weekend, something was different.

“Hi dad, hey Lewis!” You called out, looking happier than usual. Which Lewis found weird because less than a week ago you were drinking alone on your balcony, nursing a broken heart.

Both men looked up at you, replying to your greeting from where they were sitting in your father’s office. But you breezed past them, disappearing down the hallway faster than Lewis could ask what had you in such a good mood. You were almost skipping.

He made a mental note to ask you about it over lunch later.

But he never got to do that since you were completely engrossed in your phone at the lunch table. And everyone kept talking to him and he had to reply to them mindlessly all while his entire attention was on you. Especially since you kept smiling down at your phone.

A multitude of possibilities crossed his mind. And he hated every single one that had to do with you being involved with another man. He decided he’d confront you about it later.

–

By the time Lewis managed to get to alone to talk to you, it was already night time. He’d missed dinner because he had important phone calls to take. And by the time he returned back to the dining room, everyone was drunk and you had already left.

So here he was now, waiting for you in your bedroom. When you were younger, Lewis used to make fun of you for having an all pink room. After all, your father’s mansion was a behemoth, Georgian style mansion, complete with luxurious dark interior, all except your girly pink room.

So then one day you got tired of his teasing and demanded an all black and gold room. You were fifteen then, and now many years later, the room hadn’t changed one bit.

Lewis was looking around, noticing everything that hadn’t changed in many years, when you walked in. Still with that big smile on your face.

“Oh hey Lew, ready for movie night?” You closed the door behind you and began dimming the lights, already searching for the TV remote. “Should we watch a musical?”

Meanwhile Lewis was standing there, in the middle of your room, looking all confused. Finally he asked, “What is going on with you?”

You kept lifting the cushions on the sofas, looking under them to find the remote as you mindlessly asked, “What do you mean?”

“Stop.” He called out, wanting your attention. “Look at me!”

That tone of his made you stop. This was the second time he’d used that voice on you now. The first time was that night he found you drinking alone.

You turned to face him. You were used to this, him standing in your childhood bedroom, wearing nothing but his usual sweatpants, braids untied. Lewis had always been handsome, yet right now as he looked at you with a strange anger in his eyes, you couldn’t focus on anything else.

“What is it?” You asked, leaning against the sofa for support as Lewis’ eyes stared deep into your soul. He was your best friend, but you had seen the way he worked. You knew why he was so feared and respected. Lewis could be intense sometimes.

“You just seem…,” He crossed his arms over his chest, “Happy. All of a sudden. I mean, I found you heartbroken on your balcony just a few days ago and now you’re basically skipping with joy all over the place.” He said it like it was the most odd thing he’d ever seen.

“Oh Lewis,” You chuckled. “Maybe I am happy.” You said, moving away from the sofa and stepping closer to him. “I wasn’t gonna sit and let a man decide if he wanted me or not. I thought maybe I should take matters into my own hands and, you know, get out and find what I want on my own.”

Lewis frowned. “What does that mean?” His heart began racing again. He’d been away these last few days, and he was just now realising that you had barely texted him at all.

You avoided his eyes with a coy smile and said, “My girlfriends and I went clubbing the other night,” You looked up at him with a mischievous smirk, “And there was this guy, and he seemed really nice, and…” You trailed off, smirking some more, “Well, you know, we kind of hooked up in his car and–,”

One moment you were talking, and the next Lewis had you pinned to the nearest wall. His tattooed hand wrapped around your throat, keeping you in place as he leaned in with a murderous look in his eyes.

“Who the fuck touched you?” He whispered, looking like he was trying really hard to keep his anger contained. “Just give me a name, and I swear I will–,”

“So it was you.” You cut him off this time, your voice shaky and your eyes beginning to tear up.

Lewis frowned.

“This whole time, you’re the one making decisions about my life.” You watched how his face fell when he realised that you figured it out. “You had no right, Lewis.”

“Yes I did.” He argued, leaning closer. “Now tell me who the fuck touched you?”

You hated him at that moment. But his scent was familiar, his touch was warm as always. He was still that person who held you each time you crumbled down. He was still your best friend, but you were angry.

“No one did. I had a theory, I wanted to see if it was true so I lied.” You sighed. “I never went clubbing, I didn’t hook up with anyone.” You explain. “ You know, I always wondered why you never seemed bothered like a true friend would each time I came crying to you about how I got stood up, ignored, or ghosted.” You scoffed, “Turns out it was you who hurt me each time.” You accused. “Why couldn’t you let me be with who I wanted?”

“No one was ever good enough for you.” He whispered, his face just inches away from yours.

“That’s not for you to decide, Lewis!” You sniffled, then raised your voice. “I’m an adult, I can be with whoever I want to be. I can sleep with whoever I want to–,”

“No.” He said calmly, like he was stating facts. “You’re mine. They don’t get to touch you.”

You struggled against him, and he loosened his grip around your neck a little but pressed his body against yours, keeping you trapped between himself and your bedroom wall. “I thought you cared.” You whispered. “Thought you wanted me to be happy.”

Lewis pressed his forehead against yours, his other hand holding you at your waist. “You will be happy. You’ll be the happiest girl in this world.” He added, gently. “With me.”

The audacity in his voice pissed you off. You shoved at his chest, managing to only push him an inch or two away. You forgot just how physically strong he was, but you were too angry to care.

“I decide who I want to be happy with!” You yelled at his face. The mansion was big enough that no one else would hear you two arguing. “You don’t own me like you think you do!”

Lewis chuckled, in that arrogant way of his, with his nose in the air. “You are mine.”

“Why? Because you think so?” You scoffed, shaking your head at him. “What did you do to them anyway? Scare them off? Use them as punching bags? Throw them in your torture dungeons that I pretend don’t exist?” You never thought you’d ever say these words to him, but you didn’t care. He crossed a line.

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Maybe I did worse things, I had to get rid of so many boys I had to get creative.” Lewis gave you a dangerous smile, “You know I would do anything for you.”

Those words, that voice, it sent shivers down your spine. “Lewis.” You warned, your brain seemed to just realise that this man was more than just your best friend. He was, after all, known for his ruthless ways.

He smirked, stepping closer to you again. One hand on your waist, the other grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. His bare chest pressing against yours, only separated by the thin material of your PJ top. Your breathing got shaky, your brain got foggy. There was an unfamiliar tension in the air this time. It felt tangible the moment he easily shoved his thigh in between your legs.

“What is it, princess? Now you’re scared of me?” He sounded cocky, and powerful.

You stared into his big brown eyes. “I hate you.” You said, lying to his face. His handsome face. Flawless, like the rest of him.

“Why?” Lewis smirked, “Because I kept assholes who would waste your time away from you? I’d say I did my duty as your friend. Isn’t that what friends do? Protect each other? Hmm?”

You hated how he talked to you in that condescending tone. Mostly you hated how that tone made your body tingle. “I’ll tell my dad what you did.” You realised that only made you sound naïve.

Lewis chuckled, “He’ll just think you’re throwing one of your bratty fits.”

“I hate you, Lewis.” You repeated.

“Oh you do?” He raised an eyebrow at you, mocking you. “I’ll believe you when you stop humping my thigh like that.”

Your face burned when you realised that you’d been grinding on his thigh without thinking ever since he shoved it in between your legs. You froze and tried to push him away again but he wouldn’t let you.

“Where are you going?” He said as you struggled against him. “What about this?” He pointed at the damp patch you left behind on his thigh. Your face burned even more as you looked at it. “Won’t you let me take care of that for you? Clearly your pussy is crying for attention.”

“I don’t want you to touch me.” You didn’t sound convincing at all when you said it.

That look in his eyes, his soft lips, the familiar scent of his, all that golden skin on display, the tattooed, rough hand holding your face… he was making it hard for you to think straight. And he knew. Judging by that smug look on his face, you could tell he knew.

“Oh?” He taunted. “I remember perfectly well how just a couple of nights ago you almost begged me to fuck you.” He teased, “You even said you’d let me do anything to you.” He chuckled dangerously, like a villain. “Bet you would’ve even gotten on your knees and begged for me properly if I asked you to. You were that desperate for some cock in you. Do you remember that, princess?”

His words made you breathless. On one hand he had crossed some boundaries, on the other he was giving you exactly what you craved, making you feel wanted and desired in his own dark, twisted ways.

When he pressed his body against yours even more, you could feel something hard pressing against your abdomen. You gasped, looking into his eyes which were filled with a kind of hunger you had never seen before. It made you want to clench your thighs together, but with his legs in between yours, you couldn’t.

“You feel that?” He rolled his hips in a way that made you very aware of his erection. “This is what I had to deal with for years whenever I was around you, always hoping and waiting you’d see that we belong together.” He confessed.

“Lewis…” You couldn’t recognise your voice, it was so full of desire and need. But then you remembered what he did, and it felt like you sobered up and broke out of whatever trance he had you under. “You hurt me. For years.”

“I did it for your own good,” He stated. “For us, can’t you see that?”

“What you did was selfish.” You hissed, you placed your hands on his chest to push him away but the warmth of his skin made you pause. You could feel his heartbeats under your palms and just for a moment, you let your hands wander. Trailing up and down his toned abs, fingers tracing his tattoos. “It was mean,” You whispered bitterly, “Friends don’t treat each other like that.” Your actions didn’t match the way you reprimanded him.

“I don’t want to be your friend.” He spat.

“Neither do I.” You retorted. “Not after this bullshit of yours.”

“You don’t get to push me away like that.” He grabbed you by the hips and pressed you even harder against him.

You snapped, “You don’t get to make decisions about my life.”

You opened your mouth to berate him some more, but he shut you up by pressing his mouth to yours, kissing you rough and hard like he hated you.

You couldn’t control your hands anymore, you wanted to touch him and feel his warm, muscular body under your fingertips. You moaned into the kiss as his tongue slipped past your lips, stroking the top of your mouth while his hands slipped under your shirt, sliding up till he cupped your breasts, squeezing them in his large hands until you moaned even louder.

His touch made you wild, enough for you to bite on his full lower lip until he hissed. Your hands sliding up and down his muscular chest, feeling every hard muscle. Fuck. He felt good.

Flashes of that night filled your brain again, how you begged him to fuck you. And how he didn’t. A rush of anger took over you.

“Why do you have to be so fucking moody?” You whispered against his mouth, as you pulled away to catch your breath. “If this is all you wanted then why didn’t you fuck me when I asked you to?”

He smirked at the sudden dominance in your voice. “You mean when you begged me to?”

“Shut the fuck up.” You snarled.

Your words made him smirk as he looked down at you with lust in his pretty, warm brown eyes. How had you missed the way he looked at you all these years?

“Oh? You’re using your big girl words now.” He taunted, mocking you with that smug smirk of his. “Admit it, you’re angry and you still want me to fuck you.”

You were about to sass back at him but he grabbed your hand, moving it down his body, mimicking how you made him touch you that night. Lewis made you slide your hand past the waistband of his sweatpants, slowly, holding your stare as he had you wrap your hand around his erected cock.

You breathed heavily now, lips parted as you looked up at him while instinctively giving him a gentle squeeze. He frowned and groaned like he hadn’t been touched in forever, “Fuck, princess…”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t almost forgive all his wrongs right there and then. Lewis let out some more strained moans when you slowly slid your closed fist up and down his cock, feeling it throb and twitch in your hand. You watched his face carefully. How he clenched his jaw, and closed his eyes, how his frown deepened when you explored and teased him with your hand.

“Lewis…” You didn’t realise you were panting in need as you touched him.

He opened his eyes and stared into yours. His hand wrapped around your neck again, hard enough to make you gasp in pleasure and pain. “Tell me you want me,” He leaned in to whisper in your ear, kissing along your jaw occasionally. “Beg me to fuck you like you did that night.”

“I begged.” You chuckled this time, squeezing your hand around his cock again, enjoying the sounds he made. “You had the chance, and you didn’t fucking take it. Now, what if I don’t want you anymore?”

Lewis scoffed and placed his mouth back on yours. Kissing you like he was hungry for it, biting your already swollen mouth. “Is that so? Shall we check, then?”

He barely gave you time to think before he dipped his hands down your shorts, into your underwear until he felt the wetness gathering in between your legs. You shivered, moaning into the messy kiss as he moved his fingers around.

He smirked, pulling away to look at you, holding your stare while his fingers gently inspected your wetness, teasing you, bringing you on the verge of begging for more. “That doesn’t feel like you don’t want me, princess.”

You hated that mocking tone of his. It made you want to scratch at him like a feral cat. “Fuck you.” You hissed, unable to do much now that his finger threatened to slide deep inside you with how he kept toying with you.

“Alright,” He pulled his hand away, “Come here then.”

Lewis pulled you away from the wall and easily pushed you down on your bed, standing at the end of the bed to watch you for a moment. You watched him too. He looked like a fucking god. A muscular, heavily tattooed, handsome god.��

You almost gulped when you noticed he was eyeing you like you were the sacrifice left on his altar. Like he was ready to satiate his hunger.

“You’re just gonna stare?” You couldn’t help the bratty words from leaving your mouth. Mainly because you knew that would get him moving. Having him just standing there watching you like that was painful because you wanted him so bad.

Lewis crawled on top of you, grabbed you by the neck and said, “If you want my cock, you’re gonna ask nicely. Understood?”

You glared at him, “I fucking hate how bossy you are.” You spat at him, already squirming under him.

“And I hate how bratty you are.” He said, straddling your waist as he tore your shirt off your body, throwing it behind him.

With no bra on, you instinctively went to hide your body from him. But Lewis grabbed your hands and pinned it above your head, securing your wrists in his one hand while the other cupped your breast.

“You don’t have to hide from me, princess.” He whispered, kissing along your exposed neck. “It’s just me.” He playfully nipped at your neck and you moaned and squirmed under him, your brain already malfunctioning at his brief touch.

“Don’t think that I’ve…” You gasped when he kissed around your ear, “forgiven you.” You whispered, breathless already, with shivers dancing down your spine.

“Really?” He whispered, kissing his way down your body until he took one of your breasts into his mouth, kneading the other with his hand. He bit, and sucked on your skin, making your back arch off the bed as you whined in pleasure. “Haven’t you?”

Your hips moved on their own, in a way they never had before. You were desperate for more, but were too proud to ask for it. Lewis lightly grazed your nipple with his teeth, and you let out a loud moan. One which made you want to hide your face in embarrassment after it escaped your mouth.

“No, and I never will…” You muttered under your breath, still whining in pleasure as he played with your body.

Lewis smirked as his hand reached down in between your legs. He lowered your shorts and underwear until you could easily slide your legs out of them. Your desperation was showing and he couldn’t stop smirking.

You wanted to slap it off his pretty face. But you didn’t. You watched how he spread your trembling legs apart and settled in between them. You gasped in surprise when he lowered his face down until his mouth was inches away from your clit.

This was new to you, and it made you a little nervous.

He could tell.

“Keep your legs right there for me.” He grabbed your thighs and parted your legs even more. “Now stay still, don’t move.” He whispered against your skin as he kissed your inner thighs. His warm breath caused goosebumps to erupt all over your skin. He looked up at you and smirked when he noticed it.

You held yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him in anticipation.

“No one else is gonna touch you like this, you hear me?” He leaned down, kissing your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease.

You shivered as you felt his tongue stroking your most sensitive parts. No one had ever even gotten close to touching you there. Lewis made damned sure of that after all. All so he could have all of you.

“You taste better than I imagined…” Lewis chuckled as he looked up at you and found you with your eyes shut, head thrown back in pleasure. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamt of this.”

He wrapped his big arms around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to him. He placed his mouth back on you again, and licked in between your legs, making you whine as he tasted you.

“Oh fuck, please…” You cried out, whimpering and begging.

“Beg for it.” He whispered against your wet skin, making you hiss in pleasure. “Beg me to make you come.”

You could feel your wetness trickling out of you, one drop at a time. Of course you had masturbated before but it never felt this good. No toy ever came close to how good his tongue felt slowly fucking in and out of you.

You tried to grind on his face to make yourself come. But Lewis pulled away smirking each time.

“Please,” You whined, giving in finally and unable to take his sweet torture anymore. “Lewis…” You pleaded, “Please make me come.” You could feel your legs shaking under his touch. “Please…”

He almost wanted to tease you for a bit longer, but even he was getting impatient and wanted to fuck you as soon as he could. So he wrapped his arms around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, fucking you with his soft, warm tongue until you were crying out loud, coming all over his mouth.

You were gasping for air, your body squirming under him as you came.

“You did so good, princess.” Lewis kissed his way up your body again until he pressed his mouth back on yours, kissing you just as hungrily as before. His braids tickled your face but nothing else had your attention in that moment. Not when his hands rubbed up and down your sides. Not when he lowered down just enough for you to feel his body weight, and feel his clothed erection right in between your legs.

You had never been this intimate with anyone before, and just feeling his warm skin rubbing against yours had your mind going crazy. You moaned into his mouth, breathless from his kiss as his hand lowered his sweatpants just enough to free his erected cock again.

You couldn’t help but whine as he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down your wet slit. You squirmed under him, seeking more of that feeling.

Lewis pulled away from the messy kiss and looked down at you, supporting himself above you on one elbow. You had never seen him from this angle before. You couldn’t help but reach out to touch his face, because as angry as you were deep down, he was still your best friend. Still your favourite person in the whole world.

And yet, he had been secretly hurting you thinking he was doing you good all these years. You couldn’t help the tears that fell down on either side of your face as you gently ran a finger across his perfect eyebrow. Damn him. Everything about him was perfect.

“I hate you.” Was all you could whisper, feeling too much all at once. Anger. Betrayal. Desire. Need. Satisfaction.

He smirked, pressing the tip of his cock against your hole and applied just enough pressure to make you moan without pushing inside you yet. “You can hate me while you’re being fucked by me, I don’t care.”

Neither did you. Not when he slowly pushed inside of, stretching you open as he went. Filling you up until you couldn’t think once he was snug inside you. Fuck. It was too much. Too good. You couldn’t look away from him, more tears spilling down your face once he was fully in.

Out of all the emotion you were feeling, the stab of betrayal hurt the most. After all, your best friend had been lying to you. Comforting you all these years while you felt insecure when he was the reason behind it.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You asked.

He knew what you were referring to. “I didn’t want to lose you.” He sounded just as breathless as you were. It was hard to hold back from wanting to fuck you like he dreamt of doing all these years. But he didn’t want it to hurt. So he was waiting, waiting for you to adjust to his size. “I couldn’t risk it.”

You moaned as he removed himself entirely, slowly, before pushing back into you. He was trembling with how much he had to hold back. You could tell. For a man of his magnitude, it was a given that being gentle wasn’t necessarily his forte. But he was still trying.

“You’re so selfish.” You stated, even when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding onto him as he fucked you slowly, as slow as possible. Letting you feel every inch of him moving in and out of you. It was so good it was agonising.

“No,” He argued, still moving gently. “You know what would be selfish? If I asked your father for your hand in marriage behind your back. He would’ve approved of it, he loves me like a son and everyone knows that.” He kissed the side of your face. “But I gave you a choice, I was waiting for you to choose me. Getting rid of the competition all along was just… fun.”

“Oh fuck you, Lewis.” You almost bit down on his shoulder when he tried to speed up a little.

“You’re too tight, baby.” He whispered, kissing your face again. “Open for me. Let me fuck you, come on…” You heard him swear under his breath again, the warmth of his body on top of yours felt so good you never wanted this to end.

Your heart raced even as you relaxed your body to let him in, to let him fuck you harder until fresh tears fell down your face.

Lewis kissed your open mouth as you moaned for him, crying out loud each time his cock brushed against all the right spots inside you. “You’re all fucking mine,” He whispered, wrapping his hand around your throat again, “Is this what you wanted? Hmm? To be fucked like this?” He taunted. “Is this what you were begging for? You feel pretty now, princess?”

His cocky words made you want to slap him but he felt too good for you to actually do it and risk him stopping. Instead, you carefully lifted your legs up and wrapped them around his waist, allowing him to thrust deeper into you.

Lewis leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours while fucking deeper into you. The simple gesture felt too intimate. You were in sync, bodies moving as one, sharing the same breath, hearts racing, you felt connected.

The more you moaned and whimpered, the more you felt him losing his ability to be gentle. At some point, he gave up completely and just fucked you relentlessly.

You felt a familiar pressure forming in between your hips, your body begging for release. He could feel it too given how you clenched around him.

“Already about to come for me, princess?” He chuckled, “That was quick.” You didn’t miss the arrogant tone in his voice.

“Lewis… please.” You moaned, begging.

“No.”

His one word felt like it made your world come crumbling down. You cried out when he pulled out, right when you were mere seconds away from coming.

Even he was surprised at how he was able to hold back from just fucking into you until you were both completely spent from coming too much.

Lewis leaned in to kiss your swollen mouth. “You tortured me for years, princess.” He whispered against your mouth. “You don’t get to come that easily.” He pulled away and said, “Turn around for me.”

You moved too slowly for his liking so he had to intervene. He pulled you onto your knees by your hips, shoving your face down into your soft pillow as he shoved his cock inside you again.

His hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm against your lower abdomen while he fucked into you. He liked how he could feel himself deep inside you with each thrust. And he liked how you clenched around his cock.

“You feel me in here, princess?” He whispered, “You’re mine now, no one else is gonna touch you. Ever.”

You moaned as he sped up when you least expected it. There was nothing to do but take it, take him deep inside you each time he filled you up.

His hand travelled all the way to your throat and he choked you gently. It felt dirtier now that you couldn’t see him. He squeezed enough to make you lose your mind.

“Fuck! Please, Lewis….” You cried, your body moving forward and back with each thrust of his. You clenched the blanket under you in your fists tightly, biting down onto the pillow as he quickened his pace.

“Are you going to come for me, baby?” He asked, his voice deeper now. “Are you going to be mine forever?”

“Yes…” Your voice sounded muffled. “Yes, please…”

“Promise?”

“Oh damn you! Yes!”

He chuckled, leaning down to press his chest to your back as he fucked into your harder than earlier. “Come for me, princess. Come all over my cock.”

You came undone, hard and fast, moaning as you did. You had never imagined pleasure could be so blinding. Your brain was a foggy mess. You felt like you were floating.

Lewis came right after you, groaning as he did.

Both of you collapsed onto your bed, both catching your breaths and trying to calm your racing hearts. You could feel Lewis’s body heat right on top of you.

Everything was blurry for a while after that. You briefly remember Lewis cleaning you up and placing the covers over you.

When you came to again, you were laying almost entirely on top of his chest. Your ear right over his heart, which beat steadily now. His warm hand rubbed up and down your back. The room was dark now, all the lights were off.

You wouldn’t see him but you still moved to look up at him. Or at least you tried to but the soreness in between your legs made you hiss in discomfort.

“Sorry about that.” Lewis said quietly. You could hear the smug smile he was probably hiding.

“I still hate you, Lewis. You piece of shit.” You muttered under your breath, placing your head back on his comfy chest. Your fingers traced over his skin, you knew exactly where all his tattoos were so you traced them even in the dark.

“Sure.” He chuckled this time. “Didn’t sound like you hated me earlier. You screamed so loud I was worried we might have woken up the whole house.”

Your face burned. You still couldn’t believe you actually did it. You slept with your best friend. It felt unreal. You tried to find that anger again, but it wasn’t there anymore.

You still had one question. “Did you truly ever consider doing it? What you said earlier?” Your heart skipped a beat or two while you waited for an answer.

Lewis was quiet for a moment then asked, “What exactly? I said a lot of things.”

“Ask dad for my hand in marriage. Behind my back.”

His silence said it all.

“Asshole.” You muttered under your breath again.

He laughed, tightening his arms around you protectively. “You love me, princess. You would’ve pretended to hate the thought of it. You would’ve thrown a bratty fit. But in the end, you would’ve said yes.” Then he paused and added, “You will say yes when time comes.”

You hide your face into his chest even in the dark. Your silence said it all too.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton smut #mob!lewis #f1 #f1 fanfic #lewis hamilton au #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton imagine

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artytaeh · 3 months

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honeymoon!Mattheo? Also I'm so obsessed with your pages aesthetic, especially since I've been on this app for like 3 years and just changed my profile picture... anyways adore you and your writing <3

this is so sweet! i melt everytime i reread this rq, i swear. tysm for reading my posts and accompanying my writing, also for requesting 🌷 honeymoon!theo was a silly shower thought— i didn't plan to do a version of it. however, since you're asking, i just can't say no; so i hope that you like it, love! ��

warnings: includes smut, so obviously it's advised for +18 readers; read at your own risk. brief mentions of trauma from being the son of bellatrix lestrange + the dark lord.

honeymoon!mattheo who felt like these next two weeks outside england, just the two of you, were like a blessing after your wedding day— don't get me wrong, mattheo riddle feels like the luckiest motherfucker to have been the one to marry you, the man who put that ring on your finger and to see you walking down the aisle to him. even so, fucking hell, how can a celebration for your marriage be so, so exhausting for the two of you? mattheo himself begged you to take off those heels; it was paining him to see you in them after so many hours, really!

honeymoon!mattheo who was ecstatic at the idea of going out of the country with you, of all people. sure, he's been out of england: he studied at hogwarts, which is in scotland; italy too, courtesy of theodore's invitations to spend a few weeks or most of the summer break at his family's estate; that one time that draco bragged about his wealth and took all of his friends to spend weekends or some days somewhere through europe. but travelling with you? that's different. this isn't a vacation with the boys; he's on his way to enjoy two paradisical weeks with the love of his life— just. the. two. of you.

honeymoon!mattheo who planned these vacations with you — where do you wanna go? how long would you like to stay? would you rather somewhere to rest and do nothing, or travelling around? truthfully, mattheo had his own preferences; as fun as it is to explore new places and unraveling different cultures, mattheo was a bit (a lot more) into seeing you in bikini most of the day. visiting a city or some nearby mexican tourist attraction is totally fine by him; a few were chosen by the two of you during a rainy day, cuddling on the sofa as you and him daydream about the sound of waves, sunny days and heat tanning your skins. with a laptop in front of you, mattheo checklists and makes notes of whatever was decided that day.

honeymoon!mattheo who jumps straight to the bed as soon as you arrive to the hotel's bedroom. soon, strong arms pull you close to him; mattheo spends some minutes like this with you, cuddling and feeling you close, nevermind how warm it is in mexico during this time of the year, not giving a flying fuck if you two are sweaty. mattheo riddle needs to rest after so many bloody hours inside a plane, and dealing with the airport's burocracy. fuck, there's a fucking spell for everything in the wizarding world, how come no one found a better way to travel between two continents already?!

honeymoon!mattheo who has his arm around your waist at all times. walking together? mattheo is there, hugging your waist, matching his usual long strides to your calmer pace, making sure that you're the one leading the speed of your walk. taking a stroll on a nearby city or exploring the streets? mattheo riddle won't unwrap his arm from your waist, fingers gently tracing the curve of your side, as you two comment about the beautiful streets you walk by and how good all of these restaurants smell. and, well, if his arm becomes bothersome because of the heat, mattheo is happy to hold your hand— as soon as it becomes sweaty, mattheo himself moves to your other side, to take your other hand in his, nevermind if he has to repeat this ritual every five minutes.

honeymoon!mattheo who drags you to play on the beach with him! this man will proudly buy a kid's kit for himself: a set with beach toys, including a bucket, shovels and other stuff to build castles on the damp sand. obviously, the set is green, if there's that color option— hey, all of those years as a slytherin, wearing a green tie on a daily basis, got him a little attached to the color, alright?!

honeymoon!mattheo who looks like a man preparing himself to go to war, as you patiently massage the sunscreen on his face, warm shoulders and back, along with the rest of his body; you don't trust your husband to apply the sunscreen correctly, since mattheo is all too impatient to go have fun. he does the same to you, of course; pulling you to his lap, big hands making sure that your smooth thighs are protected by the sunscreen— maybe a little too much, since you grow suspicious that mattheo caresses your thighs for a moment longer than necessary. hey, he's a man in love; can't a husband appreciate his wife's beautiful body?!

honeymoon!mattheo who lowkey tries to learn how to speak spanish, or at least simple phrases; thank you, hello, please, and perhaps being a little more observant to catch a curse word or two. god forbid mattheo catches on how to compliment you— now, each time you show your outfit, smile or do something as simple as existing near mattheo riddle, he grins and dramatically pronounces: 'guapissima! bonita, muy bonita.' — sneaking a squeeze on your bottom, pressing your body closer to his. you'd be at least a little annoyed, if mattheo's bambi eyes weren't so full of love for you. you know he means every single praise that rolls out of his mouth.

honeymoon!mattheo who sleeps a little more peacefully now, in mexico, far away from london and the looming notion of his ancestry. here, a continent away from his lunatic of a mother, oceans away from the knowledge of being the dark lord's son, mattheo riddle relaxes. you're married now; away from the chaos. during your wedding day, mattheo was terrified that something would tarnish this happiness with you. being physically away from all of that, on a country where no one blinks an eye at the surname riddle, mattheo is able to relax and let go of the overthinking habit he created since childhood. mattheo riddle isn't a cursed child anymore— at least not here with you.

honeymoon!mattheo who buys a lot of souvenirs. at least for theodore, he gets something that he knows that his best friend would find funny too; perhaps one or two things for his slytherin friends. then a lot of bracelets, or whatever the fuck you happen to stare for a few seconds. sundresses become part of your wardrobe, too, since mattheo argues that is sinful to not have you wearing such flattering clothes, choosing colors that you like the most, and compliment you the best.

🗯️ : matt, this is the third dress you're about to buy for me. i already have enough!

m : nonsense. you don't have any on this color, do you? besides, it's fancy to say 'hey, see this dress? my husband got it for me from mexico'; i'm helping you to brag, woman!

honeymoon!mattheo who hugs you from behind in the pool, trailing kisses from your left shoulder, cheek, neck, shoulder blades, until he does the same to the other side. he's not even attempting to convince you to lustful things— mattheo is just so in love with you. should an older couple or bitter tourists side-eye any of you, mattheo will kiss your cheek for a moment longer, staring menacingly to whoever is nosy enough to notice him and his wife. mattheo riddle, as always, doesn't even have to open his mouth; his serious expression and dark eyes being enough of a warning. as soon as they avert their gaze, mattheo goes back to the task at hand: kissing every inch of you with that silly little smile of his.

honeymoon!mattheo who takes full advantage of the jacuzzi on your bedroom. you should have expected it, as soon as dark eyes shine with mischief, a wolfish grin on his lips as mattheo riddle inevitably plans ahead— hours later, you'll find out exactly what was going through that devilish mind of his.

honeymoon!mattheo who is safe to say that fully enjoyed the warm water at night— calloused hands placed on your hips, thumbs brushing soothing circles on your hipbones as mattheo takes in the sight of you, naked on top of him, guiding your movements as you bounce on his length. mattheo fights the urge to tilt his head back and close his eyes, wanting to drown himself in the sensation of you so tight, so warm and wet around him— but then, he'd lose the bewitching vision of you, so mattheo bites his lip while his hands move lower and lower, greedily squeezing your bottom, hands full of the smooth, soft skin. mattheo watches you so intensely, that you're almost shy under his gaze; his strong arms embrace you so close to him, lips bruising the skin of your neck, collarbone, chest (and for a moment, you wonder if wearing a bikini would be safe tomorrow, giving each reddening, becoming purple hickey left on you) as he whispers against your wet skin. 'so pretty— such a good girl for me, aren't you? riding your husband so, so well. so wet and tight for me, huh? moan for me, baby. let me hear all of your pretty moans, hm?'

honeymoon!mattheo who is so gentle with you afterwards. without even having to ask, mattheo carried you back to the bedroom, patting your body with gentle movements so that the towel absorbs the water from your body, cooing at you. despite your tired demeanor, sore legs recovering on the comfortable mattress— mattheo riddle is all too energetic and blissfully satisfied, massaging your smooth skin with a body cream of yours; and trust me, it takes everything within him to not tease you, holding back any 'fun' comments about you after three rounds that got you absolutely wrecked.

honeymoon!mattheo who dedicated a part of these few days to read one of your favorite books. you see, mattheo riddle isn't really one to take reading as a hobby; at most, mattheo would have fun spending the afternoon at some bookstores to read bd, mainly about superheroes, or the ones that blaise brought from school breaks to lend to him. apart from that, mattheo's hobbies mostly revolve around drawing or listening to music— but he's making an effort for you, alright?! he is! look, he read five pages today, while you were tanning!

honeymoon!mattheo who brought a camera with him for the sole purpose to have photos with you during these weeks; as much as he adores all of your wedding photos, either with you, his best friends and other guests— this honeymoon with you must have physical evidence, not wanting to depend on his memory alone. mattheo plans to show most of them (*cough* the appropriate ones) to your children, if you ever have kids together, that is. the camera and him are present at the same place, at all times; like symbiosis, mattheo has the camera by his side to never lose the opportunity of a good photo of you.

photos of you while you're sleeping, dressing up or changing clothes, while you're relaxing on a chair near the pool to tan, swimming, at night with a flower tucked on your hair— one that mattheo picked up for you and fixed behind your ear. mattheo riddle will come back home with enough photos to decorate a wall. there's photos of you two together, too; silly selfies with you, some of them while you're sleeping by his side or on his chest, others blissfully taken by other tourists who offered such a favor. mattheo loves every single one of them.

honeymoon!mattheo who discovered that breakfast could be delivered in bedroom, four days after waking up a little earlier to shower, dress up and go downstairs to have the first meal of the day. ever since mattheo discovered such a wonder, never again— fuck that. he's having breakfast on the bed with you, requesting the staff to put an extra portion of your favorite fruits, which he'd then feed to you while the two of you are lazying on the bed after a shower, talking about whatever.

honeymoon!mattheo who suddenly doesn't hate that much anymore. at hogwarts, first years were a headache; little tiny humans that mattheo had to be careful to not bump against, or else they'd fall to the floor and god forbid professor mcgonagall saw it, should anyone accuse him of bullying. first years were also troublesome at the bloody hogwarts' train, running around like hipper active insects— however, this one little boy that came running up to you, giving you a flower? mattheo riddle couldn't help but smile, a smug grin on his lips as he crouches down:

m : hey, little dude— this beautiful woman is taken. hasn't your mother told you that flirting with a married woman is wrong? the husband might get you in trouble, you know.

honeymoon!mattheo who would complain a little less about the kids running around or simply existing around the hotel. there was this one little girl he saw at the pool, while you were getting drinks; curly hair, soft cheeks that remind him of your beautiful face— mattheo riddle is a weak man, and ever since then... baby fever. suddenly, the idea of a tiny human that is the perfect mixture of you and him, doesn't sound so scary anymore. i mean, if you and him ever had a baby, it'd be the most beautiful kid to exist; mattheo reasons that not having such a blessed child would be illegal, a heartbreaking loss to this world! (correction: a small sized demon that inherits mattheo riddle's troublemaker nature, and your charm that'll get them out of trouble ever. single. time.)

honeymoon!mattheo who tries at least once every single drink and cocktail at the bar. and more than that, makes you try them with him, which becomes a game of creating a tier list of the whole menu. mattheo will get you the colorful ones, being aware of your taste— and should you dislike alcoholic drinks, well, mattheo is a man that is unknowingly considerate, making sure to taste the drink first (so that he's sure that it tastes good, according to your preferences, of course), before giving it to you. lowkey, mattheo riddle who becomes a bit obsessed with those drinks straight from the coconuts— he might have like, seven photos of that, some of them being selfies with you.

honeymoon!mattheo who takes you dancing. hands on your hips, feeling as you sway them, gripping at them each time that mattheo riddle has to take a deep breath to not get a hard-on in the middle of the dancefloor. if possible, he'll learn how to dance the bachata with you— be it by a free class at the hotel or some bar, or even just by staring at an experienced couple dancing with ease. mattheo would be so happy to dance with you, twirling you around and pulling you closer to him, your noses brushing as mattheo looks at you with such intensity; the love of his life, this goddess in his arms. physically can't listen to one of those latino songs without immediately pulling you to dance a little with him; fuck the stares that you might receive.

honeymoon!mattheo who wants to live right here, at mexico.

m : fuck england, let's ditch london.

🗯️ : mattheo, darling, we can't do that.

m : why not?! here's the best— no rain, no people bothering us. why can't we just fuck and chill every day like we do here?

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🌿 ’

౨ৎ spend the summer of a lifetime with me ♡ ͡

let me take you to the place of my dreams . . .

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— ever since i posted my masterlist i've been receiving some requests; i didn't expect so many so soon! tysm for reading and requesting to my blog; i'll do my best to write and post each of them asap. ♡

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

#hp fandom #slytherin boys #slytherin boys react #hp fanfic #headcanons #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle headcanons #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle husband #mattheo riddle honeymoon #mattheo riddle scenarios

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suguann · 7 months

Text

OH, DARLING—ASTARION

✎. he’s in a perpetually strange mood for the rest of the day, quieter than usual and more sulky, and you have the sneaking suspicion he's upset with you. | wc. 1.3K+

tags. fem!reader, established relationship, jealousy, slight dirty talk, pet names [18+ only]

masterlist

Eighteen days. That’s how long it takes between the Shadowlands and reaching Wyrm’s Crossing. Longer still since you’ve interacted with anyone other than bandits, lost refugees, cult-crazed lunatics, and your merry band of weirdos (Gale’s words, not yours).

For once, you’re not picking berries off bushes to offset hunger until you make camp or plucking bramble from your pants when the occasional trail turns out to be safer than the King’s Road. You can finally sit at a bartop and order wine instead of choking down the contents of an ancient bottle of Ithbank you snatched from a cellar in some decrepit village.

That was at least the most tolerable thing you experienced outside the gates, as far as roughing it in the wilds goes.

And it might be your newfound appreciation for city life, of finding an escape from what’s become your current normal—sneaking past goblin-infested camps, waterlogged boots, and haystacks for beds (an upgrade from sleeping on the cold, hard dirt, you suppose)—that lures the Drow twins over to your party walking down from the top floor of the Sharess’ Caress.

“You must be curious after keeping such…” Nym glances over Astarion, Shadowheart, and Karlach, hovering behind you, threatening with blood stains on their clothes and out of place in an establishment full of nobles and wealthy ministers. “Interesting company.”

It’s safe to say you’re uninterested in the twins, but that doesn’t stop your curiosity from piquing when Nym demonstrates her talents with a peach she snatches from a fruit bowl off the nearest table. By the end of it—an obscene display that catches the eye of a few patrons walking by and sends your imagination reeling—you wonder how often she does this to gain clientele. If it’s always so…hands-on.

“So what do you think?”

You don’t know what to think, oddly confused like that first time Astarion had to spell out for you that he wanted to have sex—you’re going to be so fun to break, pet—a girl who’s every bit the product and trappings of a sheltered fool.

“Are you interested?”

The mutilated peach in Nym’s hand drips clear fruit juice down her wrist in thin rivulets, collecting at her elbow. You start to shake your head—

Astarion scoffs. “She already has her hands full without your sticky fingers and whatever the hells you’re doing to that innocent peach.”

Nym’s mouth curls up into a coy smile before her gaze sweeps over to Astarion. “Her lover, I presume?”

“As in, I already tasted said peach while you’re still trying to get your mouth on it; well then, yes. Very much so.”

You slap his chest, your face somehow getting hotter. “Astarion!”

“Darling, we’re in a whorehouse. I assure you they’ve heard worse.”

Nym makes a wordless, amused sound. “Well, if you ever find yourself curious or—” she gives Astarion one last scrutinizing once over and looks at you again “—unsatisfied, you know where to find me and my brother.”

Before you can politely decline, Astarion chips in on your behalf, “Trust me, she’s not.”

He steers you toward the door—I’m never going to look at a silly piece of fruit the same after this—and you don’t miss how he sends the twins a withering stare right before he joins you on the street.

He’s in a perpetually strange mood for the rest of the day, quieter than usual and more sulky.

You stare at the back of his head as he walks in front of you, bulky pack slung over his shoulder with the books and scrolls you bought earlier, deciding whether you should join him or leave him to his thoughts.

Karlach nudges your shoulder. “Trouble in paradise, soldier?”

“Not really.” You bite your lip. “Should there be?”

Her gaze follows yours to Astarion, and she hums in understanding.

“If you stare at his back any longer, you might burn a hole through it." Heat crawls up your neck, and you try to give her a shove when Astarion looks at both of you over his shoulder, but she doesn't move an inch and laughs instead. "He’s probably upset over finding another pebble in his boot again. Don’t sweat it.”

An unreasonable suggestion, for you know it’s more than another pebble.

He doesn’t say anything once you all reach camp, nor does he give you even the slightest acknowledgment when you walk by his tent on your way to bed or look up from his book—no hello, my sweet readily waiting on his tongue—when you slip a little note under his nose.

It’s starting to give you the sneaking suspicion he’s upset with you—though you hardly have the faintest idea why.

You’re pulled awake by the quiet, careful shifting of your blanket as someone slips into your bedroll behind you. You stare blearily at the barn's wall, trying to blink away the disorienting feeling still clinging to you like dew on a humid summer day.

It’s the first brush of sharp incisors against your throat that erases the last vestiges of sleep altogether.

Ah, so he read your note.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you whisper, aware enough to remember the other two people sleeping in the barn with you.

“Have I?”

“You know what I mean.” You tighten your grip on your blanket. “You’re upset, aren’t you?”

He kisses the tender spot below your ear. “I wouldn’t phrase it like that.”

“But you’re unhappy.”

Your breath hitches when his tongue flicks out to taste your skin.

“Yes, I’m unhappy.”

“Was it because of what that drow said?”

“Hm, be more specific.”

“When she—with the peach.” You squirm a little, a mouse blessedly caught by the tail. “You know.”

His chuckle is soft, faintly mocking.

“Oh, darling. You think I’m jealous?” He runs a thumb over the fluttering pulse in your neck. “How cute.”

And right before he applies the smallest amount of pressure—

“Well, you would be correct.”

When Astarion works at the laces of your pants, loosening them just enough to slip his hand underneath, you jump at the first cool brush of his fingers tracing across your heated skin. Your muscles jump, jump, jump under his touch, goosebumps prickling along your arms when his hand fits suddenly between your legs. Two soft pats that make you gasp.

“Drippy,” he murmurs. You don’t think your face can get any hotter.

Then he’s hooking two—fuck, three—fingers into you, splitting you open, curling up toward your belly; you can’t bite back the moan that breaks free.

“Hush, pet.”

Nipping at your neck, he scissors his fingers, smiling at your choked, stuttered gasp.

“Do you think I’d let anyone see how you fall apart with a few quick strokes of the fingers? How you sound? How you taste?”

The questions are followed by his thumb pressing into the achy spot at the apex between your legs, and you don’t mention that he’s doing this with two other people sleeping soundly on the other side of the room.

“This—” his fingers curl inside you, pressing until he finds soft flesh that makes your legs jerk. “This is all for me—mine—wouldn’t you agree?”

You nod slowly, hand clamped over your mouth to trap the sounds that keep escaping.

“Good, so we understand each other then.”

Your thighs tremble around his wrist. His fangs drag across the thin, breakable column throat, almost like a warning, catching at two identical scars that haven’t fully healed since you’ve let a feral, lost little vampire into your camp before he gives in and bites.

Digging in—messy—you imagine the dribble of red down his pale chin, how he sometimes leaves it there to savor later.

You’re limp and floating in a matter of seconds, your mind blissfully quiet for the first time in days.

“Remember that, darling, the next time someone starts giving you ideas.” After a moment, he whispers: "But I'm also happy you said no."

And he slips out of your bedroll without so much of a creak in the floorboards and out of the barn as if he was never there.

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion smut #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #bg3 smut #baldur's gate x reader #astarion x you #.things i write

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wolverigrl · 9 days

Text

Thirst Tweets

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

!Disclaimer! I’ve got a lot going on right now, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get back to writing. There will definitely be more parts, but not this week. I also have two oneshots saved that might go online this week, so don’t be surprised if you see them.

I'd be happy about some feedback and just a reminder to you, I have my requests open, so feel free sending some of your ideas! :)

Warnings: tiny bit of fluff and some swearing here and there

Enjoy!

Previous Part

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Returning to New York felt like waking up from a beautiful dream I never wanted to end. Sydney had been a paradise - sunshine, the salty breeze from the ocean, and Hugh. God, Hugh. We couldn't keep our hands off each other, behaving like love-drunk teenagers. Whether it was our sunset strolls by the harbor or cozy nights in, wrapped in blankets, we found ourselves growing closer every day. There was something magical about that time - like we were in a world of our own, free from distractions.

Hugh would sometimes visit his family, leaving me to explore Sydney on my own. I’d walk through the city, admiring the sights, feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin. But no matter where I went, I was always thinking about him. It wasn’t long before I’d be back at his place, sharing stories of my solo adventures while he teased me with that wicked smile.

Of course, the paparazzi had a field day. Every moment seemed to be caught on camera - whether we were laughing together at the beach, wandering the streets hand in hand, or lounging in the park. There were endless photos of us everywhere, but I didn't mind. Honestly, I found it kind of funny how we had become some sort of internet sensation. I had even started posting more pictures of Hugh on my socials - candid shots of him with funny, flirty captions. The fans ate it up, especially when I started liking and commenting on their fan edits of Hugh. They said I was fangirling hard, and maybe I was, but could you blame me? The man is perfect.

The hate we used to get was slowly dying down, too. People were starting to root for us. It felt good.

Today, though, was on a whole new level of fun. We were shooting a "Thirst Tweets" video, and it was as chaotic as you'd imagine. The energy in the studio was electric as we settled into the plush chairs, both of us trying to stifle our giggles before the chaos of "Thirst Tweets" began. I glanced over at Hugh, who looked far too calm for what was about to go down, his long fingers tapping lightly on his knee, his face carrying that familiar smirk that always made my heart race. It was like he knew exactly what was coming and how I’d react.

The first tweet was mine to read. I grabbed the small card from the pile and cleared my throat dramatically. “Okay, here we go…” I scanned the text quickly before bursting into laughter. “Oh my God, okay. ‘I would let y/n punch me in the face just to say I’ve been touched by perfection.’ ” I couldn’t help it - I snorted.

Hugh chuckled beside me, shaking his head. “We’re starting off strong, aren’t we?” he teased.

I leaned over, nudging him with my shoulder. “What can I say? I have violent fans.”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Perfection though? Can’t argue with that." he said, giving me a wink that made my face heat up.

It was Hugh’s turn next. He grabbed his card, took a quick glance, and then raised an eyebrow at me. “Alright, here’s a good one. ‘I’d like to officially announce that Hugh’s arms should be declared a public service. Like, those things could end world hunger. Use them for good, sir.’ "

I let out a loud laugh, slapping my knee. “See, this is what I’m saying! They should be protected. Maybe insured.”

He flexed a little - just enough to make me roll my eyes - and grinned. “I’ll take it under consideration.” he joked. The crew behind the camera was already in stitches, but I could tell this was just the beginning.

The next tweet was handed again to Hugh, and he gave it a quick scan before bursting into laughter. "Oh, this one's good. 'Hugh, you can call me baby girl and tell me to sit down, and I would happily obey for the rest of my life.' "

I raised an eyebrow, trying to hold in my laughter. "I mean.. you do have that commanding presence."

He turned to me with a devilish grin, his voice deep and teasing. "You think I should try it out, love? Call you baby girl and see what happens?"

I immediately blushed, my laughter betraying how flustered I was. "Oh no, let's not give the fans more material!"

He chuckled, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Too late, baby."

He took the card with a dramatic flourish, his eyes quickly scanning it before he burst out laughing, almost choking on his words. “Oh no, this one’s for you, love. ‘Y/n really out here fangirling over Hugh like the rest of us. She’s one of us now.’ ”

I groaned, though I couldn’t hide my smile. "Listen, I am not fangirling!" I protested weakly, but Hugh gave me a look that said he didn’t believe a word of it.

"Oh, you totally are!" he teased, nudging me playfully. “You’re in deep.”

I shot back with a grin. “Okay, maybe I’m a little obsessed with you. Can you blame me?”

The crew behind the camera was losing it by now, and I could hear some of them whispering amongst themselves, probably trying to stifle their own laughter. But we were just getting started.

I grabbed another card, still grinning. "Hugh could choke me with his biceps, and I'd die happy."

Hugh started laughing again, clearly enjoying himself. "There's a lot of love for my arms in this, isn't there?"

I looked at him, pretending to be serious. "I mean, have you seen your arms?"

He flexed again, playing it up for the camera. "I guess I have no choice but to deliver." I snorted loudly and leaned against him while laughing and hiding my face behind my right hand.

Hugh took the next tweet, shaking his head in amusement. “Alright, here’s a spicy one. ‘Hugh, please, just throw me against a wall. Like, I’m begging you.’” He read it in such a deadpan tone that I nearly fell out of my chair laughing.

He raised an eyebrow at me as I tried to compose myself. “Well?”

I fanned myself dramatically. “That’s a strong request, but relatable."

Hugh opened his mouth to say something but instead snorted with laughter and shaking his head. "Unbelievable."

I picked up the next card, already giggling before I even read it aloud. " 'Y/n’s laugh could cure my depression, I swear. She could rob a bank and I’d still be like, wow, what a cute laugh!' "

Hugh looked over at me, grinning. “See? You do have a cute laugh.”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool even though my cheeks were burning. “I mean, if it works for bank robberies, maybe I should test it out.”

He gave me a look, smirking. “I’m not bailing you out.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to." I replied, laughing. “I’d just charm my way out of it.”

I grabbed the next card from the pile, glancing over at Hugh before reading it aloud. "Y/n, how do I sign up to be your sugar baby? I don't need much - just a little attention and maybe to sleep on Hugh's abs as a pillow."

Hugh let out a loud laugh, his eyes widening. "My abs, huh?" He leaned back, pretending to flex for a moment before winking at the camera. "I didn't realize they had so many applications."

I rolled my eyes playfully, unable to hide my grin. "I mean, you have to admit, they're not wrong. Those abs could solve a lot of problems."

He smirked, leaning in closer to me, his voice dropping a bit. "Is that what you think about every time you cuddle me, baby? Using me as your personal pillow?"

I nudged him, trying not to laugh. "What can I say? I'm resourceful."

The next few tweets were just as wild, some downright inappropriate but in a way that had us both cracking up. Hugh read a particularly bold one aloud: " 'Hugh in that leather jacket… sir, I’m on my knees. What do I need to do to get you to ruin my life?' " He paused, glancing over at me with a devilish grin. “What do they need to do?”

I covered my face, laughing into my hands. “Oh God. This is escalating so much!”

He looked at the camera and lowering his voice. “Maybe just say ‘please?’ ”

The crew burst out laughing again, and I could see the camera shaking slightly as the person filming struggled to keep it steady. By this point, even the sound guy was wiping away tears of laughter.

Hugh grabbed the next tweet from the pile, his eyes quickly scanning it before a sly grin spread across his face.

"Okay," he began, in that rich voice that could melt butter, "Here’s a fun one: ‘Hugh Jackman could breathe in my direction, and I’d immediately drop to my knees, ready to serve.’"

I let out an involuntary snort, burying my face in my hands. "Oh my!" I gasped between fits of giggles. "They went straight for it!"

Hugh, trying to maintain composure, turned toward the camera with a half smile. "Well, I appreciate the enthusiasm." he said, and then turned to me. "Is that something I should be adding to my skill set?"

I swatted his arm playfully, still laughing. "Please, let’s not turn this into a live demonstration."

Hugh chuckled and nodded towards the camera. “Fair enough. But hey, I’m flattered."

I grabbed the next tweet, scanning it quickly and feeling my face heat up even more. "Oh, this one’s good. ‘Y/n’s legs are so long, they could wrap around me twice, and I’d happily suffocate.’"

Hugh let out a low whistle, his eyes flicking down to my legs and back up to my face with a teasing grin. "I mean, they’re not wrong." he quipped, making the entire crew laugh again.

I gave him a playful serious look. "Careful, you might encourage more of this behavior."

He laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "Too late."

I passed the next tweet to him, still trying to suppress my laughter. Hugh's eyebrows shot up when he read it. “Oh, wow, okay. ‘Hugh could literally break me in half, and I’d say thank you.’” He paused, a devilish grin creeping onto his face as he looked up at me. “I’m sensing a theme here.”

The crew behind the camera was howling at this point again, and I could barely breathe through the laughter. "I mean… who wouldn't be thankful?" I teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

Hugh laughed, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying himself. "Should I be concerned for you people, or…?”

"Concerned, maybe. Grateful, definitely,” I replied, still giggling.

He handed me the next card, his smirk widening. “Your turn. Let’s see if it gets wilder.”

I took the card and immediately had to press my lips together to keep from bursting out laughing. “Oh God, here we go again… ‘Y/n could ruin my life, and I’d thank her by paying her rent for the rest of the year.’ ”

Hugh’s laugh boomed across the room, his head falling back as he tried to catch his breath. “Well, if you’re ever looking for a side hustle…”

I gave him a playful nudge. "Hey, rent’s expensive in New York. I might just take them up on that."

He wiped away a tear of laughter, still grinning. “You’d definitely have no shortage of offers.”

Another tweet landed in Hugh’s hands, and he gave it a quick read before raising an eyebrow at me. “Oh jeez, we’re diving straight into the deep end now. ‘Hugh Jackman’s voice is so hot, I’d let him read the phone book to me while I climax.’”

My jaw dropped. "NO." I immediately covered my face with my hands, laughing so hard. I would lie, if I'd say my body doesn't hurt of laughter by now.

Hugh, ever the professional, barely flinched. He just gave the camera a deadpan look. “The phone book? Really? That’s a bit outdated, but… hey, I’m here for it.”

I peeked at him from behind my hands, still laughing uncontrollably. “You’re not gonna let that one go, are you?”

He winked at me, his voice dropping an octave. “If that’s what the people want, who am I to deny them?”

I playfully shoved him, still blushing furiously, but loving every second of the ridiculousness. “We need to talk about boundaries later." I joked.

He shot me a grin. “Boundaries? What are those?”

I took a deep breath, composing myself enough to grab the next tweet. The second I read it, I was gone again. “Oh, this one’s golden. ‘Y/n, I will pay you $1,000 to sit on my face. I don’t even need to breathe. Just consider it.’”

Hugh burst out laughing, clutching his chest and wiping tears from his eyes. “A thousand dollars? Only? That’s a bargain!”

I covered my face again, my shoulders shaking with laughter. “This is officially out of control.”

Hugh leaned in closer, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Come on. You’re underselling yourself. You’re worth at least $10,000.”

I laughed so hard I almost fell off my chair. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, babe.”

By this point, the crew behind the cameras was barely keeping it together. The laughter was contagious, and it felt like the entire room was on the verge of tears from how absurd the tweets were getting.

Hugh, still grinning, took the next card, glancing at it before giving me a cheeky look. "Alright, last one for me. ‘Hugh, you could crush me between your thighs, and I’d die a happy person.’”

I dissolved into laughter again, leaning back in my chair. "See, this is what I’ve been saying!" I managed between giggles.

Hugh turned to the camera, looking far too amused. “I’m sensing a lot of… very creative fans.”

I wiped away tears of laughter, still grinning. “Creative is one word for it.”

With that, the video wrapped up, and the crew finally stopped laughing long enough to give us a round of applause. Hugh’s charm and my endless giggling made for the perfect combination, and I could tell this video was going to go viral the second it dropped.

One of the cameramen approached us, grinning. “I’ve been doing this for years, and that was easily the funniest shoot I’ve ever been a part of.”

Hugh smiled, thanking him, while I nodded in agreement. “That was insane!” I said, still feeling the buzz of excitement. “I don’t think I’ve ever laughed that hard.”

After the shoot, we headed back to Hugh’s place to get ready for dinner. Ryan and Blake were coming over with their kids and dogs, and Hugh was in charge of cooking, much to his delight. He loved being in the kitchen, and it was one of those little things about him that always made me swoon.

While he started prepping in the kitchen, I disappeared into the bathroom to get ready. I slipped into something simple but nice, touching up my makeup before making my way back to Hugh. He had his back turned, fully focused on whatever he was chopping up, so I tiptoed up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, leaning my head against his back.

He jumped, clearly startled, but then relaxed into my embrace. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!" he chuckled, setting down the knife.

I grinned, squeezing him tighter. "Sorry, couldn’t resist." My hands slid over his chest as I pressed closer. "You look ridiculously good in that shirt, by the way."

He glanced down at himself - just a casual button up and jeans - but it worked for him in a way that made my heart race. “Oh yeah?” he asked, turning his head slightly to look at me with a playful smirk.

“Yeah. Like.. annoyingly good." I teased, letting my fingers linger on the fabric. “Distractingly good. It's kind of a problem.”

He turned fully then, wrapping his arms around my waist, and leaned in close, his voice low. “Maybe we should skip dinner then?"

I bit my lip, laughing softly as I pushed against his chest. "Nice try. We’re not blowing off dinner with Blake and Ryan. You know they’d never let us hear the end of it."

Before we could get any further into our flirt, the doorbell rang, and we both groaned. The Reynolds were right on time, of course.

With one last grin at each other, we reluctantly pulled apart. Hugh grabbed a towel to wipe his hands before we made our way to the door. When we opened it, we were greeted by a whirlwind of chaos - Ryan with the kids and Blake holding onto the dogs. It was loud and warm, the kind of energy that made you feel instantly at home.

Blake gave me a tight hug while Ryan and Hugh exchanged their usual friendly banter. We all gathered in the dining room, Hugh finishing up in the kitchen while Blake and I set the table, chatting and laughing about everything and nothing.

Dinner was filled with easy conversation, laughter, and the occasional bark from the dogs. Hugh caught my eye from across the table more than once, and each time, I couldn’t help but smile. This was our life now - full of love, friends, and shared moments that felt like they could last forever.

And honestly? I wouldn’t change a thing.

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#hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x you #marvel #wolverine #x men #hugh #jackman #fluff #hugh jackman imagines #oneshot #fanfiction #hugh jackedman #thirst tweets

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