Spongebob Lifted Meme Novels & Stories

I stood at the edge of Ironwood territory, boots sinking into mud as cold seeped through my coat. I hated being this close to their land. It smelled like wet dog, testosterone, and trouble. “You’re late, witch.” The voice hit low and deep, vibrating through the ground before it reached my ears. I didn’t flinch. I refused to give him that. I turned slowly, amethyst eyes narrowing as I found him at the tree line. Guilermo Santander. He stepped into the gray light, rain sliding off his broad frame. Six-foot-five of pure menace. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, silver streaks catching the gloom, and those amber eyes—burning straight through me. “I’m not late,” I said calmly, though my pulse spiked. “You wolves just don’t understand patience.” He stopped three feet away. My skin prickled as the runes along my ribs flared hot, reacting to the dense magic rolling off him. Suffocating. Intoxicating. “And you witches don’t understand territory,” Guilermo said. He didn’t sound feral. He sounded tired—like a man carrying a century of weight on deceptively young shoulders. He leaned in and sniffed near my neck. I stiffened. “You smell like sage and burnt sugar,” he murmured, voice dropping, darker now. “It’s giving me a headache.” “Then stop breathing,” I snapped. One corner of his mouth lifted, a flash of sharp canine. “Make me.” The air between us snapped tight. My magic stirred, violet haze curling from my fingertips without permission, brushing the leather of his jacket. He didn’t pull away. He leaned closer. And standing there in the freezing rain with a man who could tear my throat out, I realized two things: Elder Sibal was wrong—Guilermo wasn’t a monster to be chained. And I was in serious trouble.

"I knew; I married you on condition!" He hugged her behind, wrapping his hands around her waist. "BUT YOU ARE SOMETHING." He turned her back and pressed her against the mirror, placing his hands on either of her sides and caging her in his arms. "I AM ADDICTED TO YOU!" He looked down at her lips before pressing her lower lip between his fingers. A pleasurable moan escaped from her mouth and she closed her eyes, while making him groan "I thought I'd never love anyone again in my life, but you changed me." He lifted her head, taking her chin in his calloused hand. She shivered in response, and her heart started pounding into her ears. His eyes are darkened with a mixture of feelings. She can't help but notice him. He is 190 cm tall with broad shoulders and a muscular body and his flat abs are touching her body, which is giving her goosebumps. The lean angle of his cheekbones and his strong jaw looked like they could have been sculpted by an artist. She is placing her hand on his chiseled chest, feeling his abs and the warmth of his body spreading through her body as he is standing between her legs. "Your scent makes me crazy!" He bent down, whispering in her ear while biting her earlobe before her cheeks in his hands. It's been a couple of months since they got married, even though she feels shy under him—her fingers are tracing down on his biceps. He grabbed her hair, taking her lips into a chaste kiss. Jenny was a babysitter of the twins of Williams, but one day her boss proposed to her for the marriage to became the mother of his kids. How will she fulfill her husband's desires and journey with twins?

My husband, Dante, the Consigliere of the Falcone family, and I hated each other more than any two people on earth. He hated me for tearing him away from the woman he loved. I hated him because his heart had never been mine. We shared a bed for seven years, but the words we exchanged most were not of love, but of venomous curses. But on the night a rival family's motorcade stormed the estate, everything changed. I remember the firefight lighting up half the city. Dante threw himself in front of me, shielding me with his body. "Survive," he said, his voice as steady as ever. He drew his gun. As he turned to face them, a hailstorm of bullets erupted. As armor-piercing rounds tore through his vest and slammed into his body, he turned to look at me. It was the only time in seven years he had ever looked me in the eye. His large frame barred the doorway, stopping any gunman from crossing the threshold. "If there's a next life, promise me this, Principessa. Let me protect the one I was always meant to." That night, the glory of our family turned to ash, and the streets ran red with blood. As our enemies closed in, I triggered the explosives in the car. The flames consumed everything. When I opened my eyes again, I was walking into my father's study. "The family in Ashpoint needs a bride to seal a truce," I said, meeting the gaze of my father, the Don of the Falcone family. "I'll go." In my past life, he died believing he had failed my half-sister, Sofia. This time, I wouldn't let that regret haunt him. I would take Sofia's place and board the flight north. Let Sofia stay. Let Dante protect the woman he was meant to protect. But why, when he lifted the white veil of the woman he loved in this life, did he regret it?

“I’m s-sorry *hiccup* I won’t try to run again *hiccup*” Kayla pleaded when she saw him coming towards her like a grim reaper. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as he closed the last of the distance between them, backing her into a corner of the room. She closed her eyes and covered them with her palm, unable to endure his dark gaze. He curled his fingers around her arms and pulled them back, but a frown set on his face when he saw that her eyes were still closed. “Look at me Kayla...” he demanded, his voice thick with the need to see her golden-brown orbs. He let go of her hands and cupped her face. “Open your eyes...” he tried a little gently this time. Kayla ever so slowly lifted her eye lids, giving him the sight that he had been deprived of. A rare smile flitted on his lips when his eyes collided with the most stunning pair of pearls that adored the girl that he had become obsessed with. “Will you *hiccup* p-punish me?” she asked. “For what you did, you deserve a punishment. Don’t you think so, Malyshka?” he smirked as he caressed her bottom lip with his thumb. Even even before she could say another word, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, gaining a surprised yelp from her. “W-what are you *hiccup* doing!?” she felt scandalized to be hanging upside down on his muscular torso. “You’ll find out soon enough” he stated coldly and strode towards the bed. And upon reaching it, he transferred her onto the mattress. “And now for the punishment...” he muttered as he leaned onto the bed and hovered above her, sending a cold shiver down her spine.

For three years, I slept with my father’s head of security behind everyone’s back. Last night, with one hand at my throat and the other under my dress, he finally asked for a name, a future, something real. “After graduation,” I whispered against his mouth. “Let me finish my defense first. Then we’ll tell them.” “No.” By then I was shaking beneath him on the leather seat. “Then sooner. On my birthday next Friday. I’ll stop hiding then... Cassian, please—gentler...” That seemed to satisfy him. His mouth softened against my skin, and his voice dropped low against my ear. “Good girl. I just want you too much.” The next afternoon, I met my best friend for tea. The moment she opened the passenger door, she spotted the torn foil packet caught beside the seat and lifted a brow. “Bourbon cherry?” she said, already grinning. “That’s our company’s unreleased line. So this is what you’ve been hiding.” I snatched it up and shoved it into my bag. “It’s not public yet.” She frowned. “That’s the strange part. We only sent those samples to a handful of VIP clients.” Then she pulled out her phone. “I did a product follow-up with one of them yesterday, and his private account was basically a shrine to his girlfriend.” She turned the screen toward me. I only looked once, and my whole body went cold. The man in the photo had a line of Latin script inked low across his abdomen. I knew that tattoo. I had kissed it the night before. My fingers started shaking as I opened the private account Cassian had never shown me. April 4. The conservatory. Me and him. April 7. The upstairs studio. Me and him again. April 11—last night. A six-second clip in the back of the car.

My back slammed against the door, my breaths shallow and heavy, I tried to move but his hold remained firm. “ What are you doing? Chris is in the other room.” I whispered. He drew closer, the distance between us vanishing in one step. His tatted arms braced the door, caging me between them. “ The same Chris who's on a date with another woman?” His brows lifted almost mockingly. My pride took a hit but still I met his gaze, holding my ground. “ It's fake.” “ It isn't.” He tilted his head, I wanted to say something to defend Chris but when his lips rested on my nape in a soft subtle graze, the rest of my words died in my throat— “ If I had you…” he planted another kiss. “ I would never make you a second option.” ****** When Zinnia’s older brother has to leave the country for a year for a business trip, he sends her to live with his best friend who also happens to be Zinnia's secret long-distance boyfriend. When she gets there, she sees the man she loves in the arms of another. He tells her it's fake. That his parents arranged it for a business deal, that he'll come back to her. She believes him. But his older brother doesn't seem to agree. He mocks her, makes her mad but beneath? He wants her and would do anything to have her. A bet. “ If my brother leaves her for you, I'll vanish and never bother you again.” He leaned close, my throat tightened. “ But if he doesn't, I'll pursue you, endlessly.” Now Zinnia must do everything to ruin the marriage and also not hurt her boyfriend in the process but what happens when she starts to fall for the very person she swore she wouldn't?

“You stare like you’re trying to memorize me,” she murmured quietly, without looking up. He stepped closer, voice rough. “I already have. Every inch. Every sigh. But I still feel like I’m starving for you.” He walked up behind her. His fingers trail over her collarbone, slow, reverent. She shivers. “You shouldn’t touch me like that,” she whispered. “Say stop, and I will. But don’t lie.” He leaned down, brushing his lips against the side of her neck. Her breath hitched. “This… this is dangerous.” He murmured, “You’re the most dangerous thing in my life. I’ve killed men with steadier hands than I have when I’m near you.” She turned to face him, their eyes locked. One look—everything trembled between them. “Let me ruin every thought you have of gentleness, Inayat. Let me be the fire you crave but don’t dare name.” He lifted her, gently, set her on the table beside the couch. His hands lingered on her thighs, the tension coiling like smoke in the air. He whispered, “You asked me once why I watch you like I might break. It’s because loving you has become my most violent instinct.” *** When King Agnil is betrayed and slain by his own commander, Samarth, his kingdom falls into chaos—and his daughter, Inayat, becomes the obsession of the man who murdered her father. Years later, the exiled prince, Ayman, returns to reclaim the throne. His plan? Use Samarth’s sister as a weapon of revenge. But as vengeance tangles with emotion, Ayman finds himself torn between justice and the forbidden pull of love. Can he destroy the man who stole everything—without losing the girl who might save him?

"This is wrong, professor." She suddenly broke the intense kiss and took a step back from him, her lips swollen due to the intensity of the kiss. "And why is it wrong, beautiful Bella?" He took a step closer to her, covering the distance between them. "This, what we're engaging in, is totally wrong because of our student-teacher relationship," she replied, her voice tinged with anxiety. "And you seem to be forgetting the fact that I'm also your mate!" He said as he unexpectedly lifted her and placed her gently upon his desk. "So, my dear Bella, what were you saying?" he teased, his right hand subtly finding its way beneath her ebony gown. "Professor, what we are doing is totally wrong." She replied. "Are you sure we shouldn't be doing this?" He smirked as he shifted her wet panties and delicately introduced two fingers into her moist core. Rather than offering words, she emitted a soft, involuntary moan as he began to rhythmically move his fingers in and out of her in a deliberate, tantalizing manner. "Tell me you don't want this and I'll stop." he whispered seductively, his fingers intensifying their movements, causing her to throw her head back in pure ecstasy. "I.... I fucking want it!" she finally admitted. * * Bella, a university student and aspiring writer, had longed to find her soulmate since she turned eighteen. After years of waiting and believing she might never have one, her fate changed when the charming and attractive professor, Blake, arrived at her university. To her delight, she discovered that he was not only her professor but also her destined mate. This marked a turning point in her life, and soon, she found herself deeply in love with her Playboy mate who had a different objective in mind.

( Dark Romance 18 + ) "You loved to get hard right! Is it only by me or do you have desire to get by some random."- He husked in a seductive tone. Your heart squeezed inside your chest hearing his venomous words. A tear escaped from your eye. He bought his finger and wipeed the escaped tear from your eye. "Why don't you want? So you want only my d** inside you. Yea!! That is why you are only mine, mine to have, mine to Fu**.Right?”- His grips around your waist become tight earning a small gasp. "Why are you wasting your precious tears like this when you know how much you need for the next hour."- His voice resonated. She looked at him with empty eyes; some time it amazed her that at what extents can someone hates other. Again another tear rolled down from her green eyes, his each word breaking her heart into million pieces. "You know right? I have never disappointed you while we are in my room; I have tried in every possible way to satisfy you on my bed and besides I gave you my words that…” He thrusted his face closer to me, and gritted his teeth, “…I will make your life a living hell.” Tears were streaming from her eyes. Her heart , her soul, her body he tainted everything with no shame no regret. This was the life she was living for the past two years only to hope that one day everything will be alright, but that day never come and now she had doubt will it ever be. Without another word he lifted her in his strong arms and his dark blue eyes seemed to penetrate the very depths of her soul. “So let's get you in my room, hmm.”

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.