#Lionel Shabandar x reader

[muiitoloko]

Money

Summary: Lionel Shabandar, a business tycoon, is seduced by his wife, who manipulates him to get what she wants.

Pairing: Lionel Shabandar × Fem!Reader

Warnings: Obscenity, manipulation.

Author's Notes: As promised, here it is! Thank you so much for the likes, comments and reblogs, and oh, I wrote this while listening to ABBA's "Money, Money, Money"

As Lionel Shabandar lounged in his opulent office, surrounded by lavish furnishings and expensive trinkets, he couldn't help but smirk at the latest deal he had just sealed. His silver tongue had worked its magic once again, charming his way into a lucrative contract that promised to line his pockets with even more wealth.

But his satisfaction was short-lived as the sound of heels clicking against the marble floor caught his attention. With a raised eyebrow, Lionel turned to see his wife, you, striding into the room with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Lionel purred, his lips curling into a smirk as he watched his wife approach. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, darling?"

You flashed him a dazzling smile, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she sauntered closer. "Oh, Lionel, you know me," you purred, your voice dripping with honeyed sweetness. "I couldn't resist the urge to come and spend some of your hard-earned money."

Lionel's smirk faltered slightly as he listened to your words, a faint furrow forming between his brows. "Spending my money again, are we?" he teased, though there was a hint of irritation in his tone. "What happened to the allowance I gave you, darling? Surely it hasn't all disappeared already?"

You simply shrugged, flashing him an innocent smile as you twirled a lock of hair around your finger. "Oh, Lionel, you know how it is," you replied coyly, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "A girl's gotta treat herself every now and then, right?"

But Lionel wasn't about to be swayed by your charms, no matter how enticing they may be. With a shake of his head, he folded his arms across his chest, his expression firm and resolute.

"I'm afraid I can't indulge your spending habits any further, my dear," he said firmly, though his heart softened at the sight of your puppy dog eyes. "You've already exceeded your allowance, and I simply can't afford to keep up with your extravagant tastes."

You pouted, your bottom lip jutting out in a cute little moue as you leaned in closer, your cleavage tantalizingly close to his face. "But Lionel, darling," you cooed, your voice dripping with honeyed sweetness. "I saw the most divine pair of shoes at the store today, and I simply must have them. Won't you please reconsider?"

Despite the allure of your cleavage and the pleading look in your eyes, Lionel remained steadfast in his decision. He may have fallen for your charms once before, but he wasn't about to let himself be swayed again so easily.

"I'm sorry, my love, but my decision is final," he said firmly, though his resolve wavered slightly as you settled yourself onto his lap, your warmth seeping into his skin. "I can't continue to indulge your every whim, no matter how much I may want to."

You sighed dramatically, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pressed a kiss to his cheek, your lips brushing against his skin in a tantalizing caress. "Oh, my lion, please," you whispered, your voice laced with desperation. "I'll do anything to get those shoes, anything you want."

Lionel couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at your words, his pulse quickening with anticipation at the thought of what was to come. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered huskily, "Anything, my dear? Are you sure you're prepared to make such a bold claim?"

You feigned innocence, playing the part of the shy and demure wife as you batted your eyelashes and looked around the glass office with mock concern. " My lion, darling," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "We can't possibly do it here, can we? What if someone were to walk in and catch us in the act?"

But Lionel wasn't about to be deterred by your coy protests, his desire burning hot and fierce beneath the surface. With a wicked grin, he pulled you closer, his hands wandering boldly over your curves as he whispered, "Oh, my sweet little mouse, you know as well as I do that the thrill of being caught only adds to the excitement. Besides, I'm sure we can find a way to be... discreet."

You couldn't help but giggle at his boldness, the sound ringing out like music to his ears as you surrendered yourself to his touch. "Lionel, you naughty boy," you teased, your voice laced with playful flirtation. "You always know just how to push my buttons, don't you?"

With a sly grin, Lionel leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizing caress. "And you, my dear, always know just how to drive me wild with desire," he murmured, his voice low and husky with passion.

Lionel's eyes gleamed with anticipation as he watched you sink to your knees before him, a hungry smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He knew exactly what he wanted, and he had every intention of enjoying every moment of it.

With a sultry smile, you looked up at him through your lashes, the red lipstick on your lips a tantalizing invitation that Lionel couldn't resist. He reached down to undo his belt and pants, his half-hard member already straining against the fabric in eager anticipation.

As you freed him from his confines, Lionel couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through his veins. Who would have thought that the great lion, Lionel Shabandar, would find himself in such a position? Married, with a wedding ring on his finger, and yet here he was, indulging in the forbidden pleasure of his Sugar Baby's lips wrapped around his cock.

With a satisfied groan, Lionel leaned back in his chair, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you closer. He closed his eyes and let out a low, throaty moan as you took him deeper into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him in a sinful dance of pleasure.

For a moment, Lionel's gaze drifted to the wedding ring on his finger, a silent reminder of the unexpected turn his life had taken. He never thought he would be the type to settle down, to commit himself to just one woman. And yet, here he was, married to you, his little mouse, his Sugar Baby, the one who had captured his heart with nothing more than a flutter of her eyelashes.

But as he felt the warmth of your mouth enveloping him, all thoughts of his past conquests and fleeting flings faded away, replaced by the overwhelming desire to lose himself in the ecstasy of the moment. With a contented sigh, Lionel surrendered himself to the pleasure, his body trembling with anticipation as he allowed himself to be consumed by the fire burning between you.

As Lionel looked down at you, watching you with a mixture of lust and admiration as you pleasured him with your mouth, he couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction coursing through his veins. The sight of you on your knees, your lips wrapped around him like a vice, was like a dream come true, a fantasy he had been harboring since the moment he first laid eyes on you in his office.

With a wicked grin, Lionel leaned back in his chair, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you deeper, urging you to take all of him. "That's it, my sweet little slut," he murmured huskily, his voice thick with desire. "Take it all, every inch of me. I know you can't resist, not when you're craving my cock this badly."

You moaned around him, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine as you eagerly complied with his command. Lionel watched with hungry eyes as you worked your magic, your tongue swirling around him in a sinful dance of pleasure.

"You dirty little slut," he growled, his voice low and guttural with arousal. "You love spending my money, don't you? You love being my little Sugar Baby, my obedient little toy. But you know what I love even more? Watching you beg for more, watching you worship me like the god I am."

With each dirty word that spilled from his lips, Lionel felt himself growing harder, his arousal reaching dizzying heights as he surrendered himself to the pleasure of your mouth. He knew that you couldn't take all of him yet, not yet at least, but that didn't stop him from pushing you to your limits, from testing the boundaries of your desire.

"You're mine, do you hear me?" he hissed, his grip tightening in your hair as he thrust deeper into your mouth. "Mine to use, mine to control, mine to fuck whenever and however I please. And you love it, don't you? You love being my little plaything, my dirty little secret."

You whimpered around him, the sound sending a jolt of electricity straight to his core as he felt himself teetering on the edge of release.

As Lionel finally reached the peak of ecstasy, his body tensed with pleasure as he released himself into your eager mouth. You eagerly took every drop of him, your tongue working diligently to clean him before pulling away with a satisfied smile.

Standing up slowly, you wiped your lipstick-stained lips with the back of your hand, your eyes sparkling with anticipation as you looked up at him. "Well, my lion, it seems you've enjoyed yourself," you teased, your voice laced with playful flirtation.

Lionel took a moment to catch his breath, his chest heaving with exertion as he tried to steady himself. "Maybe a little too much," he mumbled half-heartedly, though the satisfied smirk on his lips betrayed his true feelings.

But you were too eager to wait, your excitement palpable as you practically bounced on the balls of your feet. "Now, about my reward," you prompted eagerly, your eyes shining with anticipation. "I think I've earned it, don't you?"

Lionel let out a long-suffering sigh, though there was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his checkbook. "I suppose you have," he conceded, filling in the amount with an extravagant flourish before handing it over to you.

Your eyes widened in delight as you took the check, practically jumping with joy when you saw the amount. You kissed him on the cheek with a grateful smile, your heart overflowing with happiness as you tucked the check away into your purse.

But before you could make your exit, Lionel caught your wrist, his grip firm but gentle as he pulled you back towards him. "Not so fast, my dear," he said with a smirk, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I believe there's one more thing we need to take care of."

You raised an eyebrow in curiosity, your lips quirking into a playful smile as you waited for him to continue. "And what might that be, my lion?" you asked innocently, though you already had a pretty good idea of what he had in mind.

Lionel's smirk widened as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered huskily, "I think it's time you bought some nice lingerie for tonight. Something to show off those assets of yours, hm?"

You laughed, the idea of parading around in sexy lingerie for him sending a thrill coursing through your veins, but as always, you took advantage of this opportunity to manipulate him. "I'll do it," you said with a sly grin, "but only if you give me more money."

Lionel almost growled at you, his patience wearing thin as he tried to resist your charms. "You already have enough in that check, my dear," he protested, though there was a hint of desperation in his voice. "I can't just keep throwing money at you whenever you ask for it."

But you pouted, your bottom lip jutting out in a cute little moue as you leaned in closer, your hands trailing teasingly down his chest. "Please, Lionel," you whispered, your voice laced with desperation. "I just want to make you happy, to show you how much you mean to me. Is that too much to ask?"

As always, Lionel couldn't resist, his resolve crumbling like a house of cards in the face of your irresistible charm. With a resigned sigh, he reached for his checkbook once more, filling in the amount with an extravagant flourish before handing it over to you.

"There," he said gruffly, though there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he watched you pocket the check with a triumphant smile. "Now, go and buy yourself that lingerie. But don't think for a second that I'm doing this because you asked nicely."

You laughed, the sound ringing out like music to his ears as you pressed a kiss to his cheek in gratitude. "Of course not, my lion," you teased, your voice laced with playful flirtation. "You're doing this because you love me, because you can't resist my irresistible charms."

With a playful swat to your ass, Lionel sent you on your way, his mind already wandering to the thoughts of you parading around in that sexy lingerie for him. Oh, how he couldn't wait to see you, his manipulative minx, his wife, his little mouse, his lioness... showing off just for him.

#lionel shabandar #lionel shabandar x reader #alan rickman x reader #gambit 2012 #gambit

[starry-eyesanddaydreams]

NSFW Alphabet - Lionel Shabandar

Alright, buckle up. This is the dirtiest one yet. Time for some fun with Lionel "Sexy bastard" Shabandar.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Although he has a cold reputation, with you he’s actually very affectionate and caring. Your play can get quite kinky and he's very attentive to your aftercare. He'll run you a bath, make sure you eat and drink something, hold you as you fall asleep to make sure you feel safe and secure.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For him, he likes his legs. Years of horseback riding have given him quite strong, solid legs, which he's happy about. On you, he really likes your back and shoulders. The way you stand, the confident way you hold your shoulders and the line and curve of your spine really does something for him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He's more the cum inside you kind, but he'll also come on your breasts or back if he's feeling particularly possessive.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He fantasises about having you on the desk in his office.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Handsome, successful, confident man like him? He's had plenty of experience.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggie style. And he likes being able to hold onto your hips and pull your hair a bit.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Foreplay can be playful, but when you get to actual sex he's much more intense.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He takes care of his personal grooming but isn't overly fussed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's not overly romantic in the mushy sense, but he has a way about him that makes you feel adored and special.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When you can't be with him, and he needs to take the edge off.

K = Kink

He's very much a dom. He loves taking control, edging or overstimulating you till you’re a wrung out mess. Some light pet play. You surprised him once by wearing cats ears and a cat tail plug and he basically devoured you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In bed, where he can really take his time. He also has a thing for taking you against the wall or on the floor of his private gallery. Also the back of his car.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your confidence. Like when you go with him to an event, dressed so beautifully and standing proudly beside him, his lioness. He could watch you work the room all evening and then pull you into his arms the moment you get into the car.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He won't do anything that would permanently mark your skin. He's not about to damage his favourite artwork. Also, he's a good dom, so he won't cross your limits or make you uncomfortable. You have safe words, and he would never do anything to hurt or upset you or harm your trust.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves giving and receiving. Back to those dom tendencies. Having you on your knees between his thighs with his hand tangled in your hair. Likewise, eating you out is a perfect way to keep you on edge and make you beg.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It's a mix. A quickie will be rough and fast, but most times he'll start off slow until you're good and needy and begging to cum.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

You both have your careers to attend to, sometimes you have to make the most of the time you have.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's confident and experienced, so he knows what he likes. But he's willing to experiment if it's something you're interested in too.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go a couple of rounds a night. He usually likes to draw out the pleasure for both of you and it leaves you both tired and satiated.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He's got a far selection of toys and items. His favourites being a set of padded wrist and ankle cuffs, and a remote-control vibrator so he can tease you from a distance.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to tease and drive you crazy. One time, before going to a gala with him, he slid that vibrator inside you and kept the remote in his pocket, so he could keep you on edge all night. You held yourself together until you got home and begged him to let you come.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Pretty vocal. Moans, grunts, growls and curses.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

For all his life is rich and extravagant, with you he finds even the simplest things attractive and appealing. Like the first time he spent the night at your place and in the morning, he saw you making coffee, wearing just your panties and his button up shirt. And he thought you were the most gorgeous, enticing being he'd ever seen, and you ended up making out on the kitchen counter.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

His BDE is there for a reason. He's hung like a horse.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High. He wants you as often as he can have you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He's awake for a while afterwards. He's got to take care of you first and make sure you're cared for properly. And after you've fallen asleep in his arms, he'll listen to your breathing and the feel of your heartbeat. It helps his mind clear before he starts to fall asleep himself.

#lionel shabandar #lionel shabandar x reader #I gotta write more for him #He's fun #n s f w alphabet #Gambit #He's giving kinky soft dom

[smilingformoney]

Sharing Part VII | Lionel/Reader

Summary: Lionel's in for a punishment of his own when you get wind of his fling with PJ Puznowski.

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

“I thought I’d find you in here.”

Lionel tore his eyes from the remnants of the fake painting he’d almost parted with £12 million for, and his disappointment washed away when he laid eyes on something even more beautiful than any painting in his collection: you, in a slick black dress, crossing the threshold of the room that held Haystacks at Dawn.

”[Y/n]!” he grinned. “I’m so glad to see you. I was just considering packing in this droll party, but now you’re here, I’ll definitely pack it in. We’ll need the place to ourselves, after all.”

He slipped a hand around your waist and reached down to grab your ass as he kissed you. He tasted like expensive wine, and he smelt just as sensual as he always did. You almost gave in, basking in the feel of him, but then you remembered the woman you’d just passed on your way into the house.

Lionel had been fucking around. Now, he was about to find out.

You spotted the fake Haystacks at Dusk out of the corner of your eye as you parted for breath, and your curiosity got the better of you.

”Why is her maj watching us kiss?”

Lionel glanced back at the fake painting with a sigh. “I was almost fooled into buying a false Haystacks Dusk. Fortunately Deane realised the forgery… just moments after Zaidenweber declared it genuine. Needless to say, Zaidenweber won’t be my new curator after all.”

“I told you Harry was worth keeping around,” you said smugly. You had a soft spot for Harry Deane, finding his constant deference and bumbling endearing despite Lionel’s eternal annoyance at him - perhaps because he annoyed Lionel so much.

”Yes, well, too late for that. He quit on the spot. Now I’m left with no curator at all and Queen Elizabeth staring at me from within a fake Haystacks at Dusk.” He turned back to you with a smile. “But no matter. I still have Dawn, and more importantly, I have you. How was your flight?”

”Long. You really need to move to your office in California, Lionel, then there’d be none of this flying back and forth every six months business.”

Lionel smirked. “You’d have to drag me away from London kicking and screaming, love. Talking of screaming - it’s been a long night, and I sorely need a reprieve. I hope you don’t expect to walk away with that dress in one piece.”

”I know you better than that, sweetie. Come on.”

You took his hand and led him away from the gallery and up to one of the many bedrooms in his manor, letting him ramble on in his husky voice about all the things he was going to do to you - or all the things he thought he was going to do to you. You had a very different plan in mind, and Lionel wasn’t going to get any say in the matter.

As soon as the door was shut behind you, Lionel’s hands were on your body, grabbing hungrily at the fabric of your dress.

”This. Off. Now.”

You placed your hands over his to still his movements, and he raised an eyebrow at you.

”You first,” you insisted. “I flew all this way. I wanna see you strip for me.”

As if Lionel needed an excuse to get his clothes off. If he didn’t have to wear clothes to be seen in public, he’d never put them on in the first place. It had taken you by surprise the first time you’d come downstairs in the morning, he having woken and got up before you, and found him lying on the sofa stark naked. You certainly didn’t have reason to complain about his nudist habits - it just made him more accessible. You even began wearing less clothes around the house yourself, usually opting to just cover yourself with a robe until he inevitably threw it to the floor so he could worship your body.

Lionel was sat on the edge of the bed as he removed his final piece of clothing, tugging his trousers from his ankles, and before he could stand you quickly pushed his shoulders until he was laying on his back.

He chuckled, thinking he knew what was coming. He was sorely mistaken.

You hitched up your skirt and lifted a leg to straddle him. He felt your bare flesh press against his crotch, and he hummed in approval.

”No knickers? You filthy thing. I bet you’re not wearing a bra either, are you?”

He lifted his hands to pull your dress down, but you slapped them away. He frowned.

”Show Daddy your tits, [Y/n],” he said sternly.

You shrugged. “Nah, I don’t think you deserve them.”

”…Come again?”

You almost laughed at how genuinely confounded he was. Normally you were eager for him to paw at your chest, leaving bite marks and scratches behind, so your resistance at getting your tits out for him at all was certainly new.

”You heard me. Daddy’s been naughty. I don’t think he deserves to see my tits.”

Lionel pushed himself up with his elbows and snarled at you.

”Has six months with Michaelson made you forget who’s in charge here, little slut?”

You scoffed. “You’re calling me a slut? That’s rich.”

You and Lionel had fucked so many times in the rooms of his manor that most of them had some sort of toy lying around. This room, you had specifically led him to because you knew there was a pair of handcuffs in the bedside cabinet. You learned over now to reach into the drawer and, before Lionel could react, you had one of his wrists cuffed.

In his surprise, he fell back onto the pillows, and you took advantage of his temporary disorientation to grab his other wrist and lock both his wrists together above his head.

”What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Lionel hissed. “Those are for your wrists, not mine.”

”Oh, but they look so good on you, Daddy,” you pouted.

”Let me go this instant!” Lionel demanded, tugging at the handcuffs as if that would help, and you just laughed at him. “Don’t you laugh at me, slut. You’re going to have to let me out eventually, and when I do, you and your arse are in for a big punishment. You won’t be able to sit for weeks. You won’t even be able to stand up straight, you’ll be stuck with your arse in the air, just waiting for me - mmph!”

You stopped his threats with a kiss, and despite his indignant anger, your lips were as irresistible to him as ever, and he whined into the kiss with a desperate need, his hips bucking up into yours as if hoping he could slip inside you.

“Oh, is there something Daddy wants?”

Lionel frowned at you. “You know exactly what I want. You’d better give me your cunt, [Y/n], or you’ll sorely regret it.”

You grinned, adjusted your position on top of him slightly, and wrapped your hand around his cock.

“Tell me you’re sorry.”

You stroked him once, just enough to taunt him.

“Sorry for what?”

You pouted.

“Daddy doesn’t even know what he did wrong,” you said with disappointment. “And he thinks he can have my cunt?”

Lionel hissed with frustration. Your thumb was on his tip now, teasing at the precum that was beginning to leak from him.

“You know I don’t like these games, [Y/n]. What do you think I’ve done?”

“Hmm…” You continued to stroke him slowly, with featherlight touches, just enough to keep him frustrated. “Maybe you need your memory jogged.” You leant over him, bringing your lips close to his ear, and you could feel his frustrated heavy breathing tickling your ear.

“Would you remember if I rode you?”

“Yes,” he said quickly, thinking he was getting what he wanted. “Yes, ride me, [Y/n], then I’m sure I’ll remember…”

“And tell me, Daddy - what’s the position called when a woman rides a man?”

“Erm - cowgirl?” Lionel said with a frown, which deepened when he realised what you were getting at. “Wait - is that what this is about? The cowgirl?”

You gave him a couple of tugs as a reward, then went back to your languid movements.

“Got there eventually. You really are slow when you’re thirsty, aren’t you, Daddy?”

“I don’t — what are you talking about, [Y/n]? I thought she had Haystacks at Dusk. Clearly, it was a fake. That’s all.”

You tugged on his earlobe with your teeth. “Liar.”

You released your grip on him, causing him to groan in frustration, then reached out to grab your bag from where it had been discarded on the floor. You pulled out your phone, pulled up a screenshot and showed it to him.

It was a photo of Lionel kissing PJ outside the Savoy, and a tweet caption: Lionel Shabandar kissing a woman that is definitely not [Y/n] [L/n].

“So I kissed her!” Lionel said incredulously. “I have a free pass for when you’re not here, don’t I?”

“Not all over Twitter!” you hissed, tossing the phone aside. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is -“ You took his cock in your hand again and tugged it, causing his hips to buck and a whine to escape his throat. “- when Eli comes shoving this in my face -“ Another tug, another whine, another buck of his hips. “- and then my mother sends it to me! She’s in bits because she thinks you’re cheating on me. How can I tell this innocent old lady that we’re open, huh? That you’re allowed to fuck other women?”

“I didn’t - fuck - I didn’t fuck her —”

“Stop lying to me, Lionel!” You groaned with frustration, releasing him from your grip to lean over him, hands either side of his head, trapping him beneath you. “You led her into the hotel —”

“And left twenty minutes later! She turned me down.”

You scoffed. “So you only tried to fuck her. Well, that’s alright, then, isn’t it?”

Lionel tugged on the handcuffs in frustration, but they were far too high-quality to budge.

“[Y/n] — I’m sorry, alright? If I’d known it would upset you, I wouldn’t have even gone near her.”

You hesitated, looking at him carefully, watching for any sign that he was lying.

“…Really?”

“Of course,” he said, as if you’d asked him something as obvious as the colour of the sky. “I love you, [Y/n]. She might have been a good fuck, but that’s not worth upsetting you over. Nothing is.”

“Not even if fucking her got you Haystacks at Dusk?”

“Not even for Haystacks at Dusk.”

You sat up, looking down at him, all anger and frustration dissipating from you in mere moments. You knew he loved you, but just like Eli, he had other priorities. For Eli, it was his ego. For Lionel, it was his art. And yet, here he was, insisting you meant more to him than Haystacks Dusk, and despite everything you believed him.

You uncuffed his wrists and he sighed with relief as he lowered his arms, hissing as he rubbed his sore wrists.

“You need practice with these. They were far too tight.”

“You offering to let me practice on you?”

Lionel smirked. “In your dreams, love.”

He grabbed your hips and flipped you over, nestling his hips comfortably between your legs.

“Now, [Y/n], please may I see those tits? I’m just itching to get my hands on them.”

Was he seriously asking, not just taking? Wow. He must really be sorry.

You smiled and raised your arms above your head. Lionel grinned hungrily and grabbed the fabric of your dress to tug it over your head and discard it on the floor, leaving you naked as he was.

“Fucking perfection,” he growled, his large hands already cupping your breasts. “And you really thought I’d fuck other women when I’ve got you?”

He leant down and buried his face between your breasts, licking at every inch of skin he could reach, as if he could leave a trail of saliva to remind Eli where you’d been.

“You can fuck them, Lionel, you know that. I just don’t want it all over Twitter.”

“Hmm… I’d rather just have you, to be honest.”

He kissed one nipple, then the other, then your lips.

“I don’t recall the last time I fucked another woman… how can I, when I’ve already had the best? PJ was a means to an end, that’s all… you are the only woman for me, [Y/n].”

You whined, from need, from love, from frustration. You wrapped your arms around your lover’s shoulders, clinging onto him as he breathed in your scent, his nose tickling your cheek as he dropped slow, featherlight kisses to your face.

“Move to California, Lionel,” you begged. “I can’t stand being away from you. I love Eli, but I love you too. I need you both there.”

There was a long pause. Lionel stilled his movements, his face still pressed against yours, his hair tickling your skin slightly.

“…I’ll think about it,” he conceded.

You smiled as a warm feeling spread within your chest. You knew it was the best answer you could have hoped for in the moment. Lionel wasn’t one to make promises he couldn’t follow through on, and he didn’t want to let you down.

“Any other requests while I’m here? The moon, perhaps?”

He was smirking at you, but you had a feeling if you really wanted the moon, he’d find a way to buy it.

You wrapped your arms tighter around him, holding him close.

“Devour me, your Lordship.”

Lionel grinned, purring hungrily. His pupils were blown with lust, his breath heavy, and you could feel his cock twitching as it lay pressed up against your cunt.

“Ohh, [Y/n]… I may be a Lord, but you are my Queen. I won’t just devour you… I’ll worship you.”

He slid inside you so easily, you’d have almost not noticed if he weren’t so fucking big.

Lionel groaned with relief, his cock finally inside you, finally where he belonged.

“Mhmm… I’m so glad we stopped using condoms, darling. The walls of your tight cunt feel so fucking good. And you’re so wet… always so wet for me.”

“All for you, Daddy,” you whined, and Lionel hummed approvingly, rewarding you with a deep thrust.

“Yes… yes, all for me, my perfect little slut… I’ve missed you and I’ve had a hell of a day, I don’t know if I can control myself…”

“Then don’t,” you begged, your fingernails digging into his shoulders, hips wriggling desperately beneath his. “Fuck me, Lionel.”

He chuckled darkly. “As my lioness wishes.”

You cried out as he began thrusting into you, the squelching sound of his cock plunging into your soaking wet cunt filling the room, rivalled in volume only by your depraved groans.

“Mmm, yes, that’s it… fuck , you take me so well, darling.” Lionel sunk his teeth into your neck, aiming for a bruise Eli had left you last night. “As if I would ever have some - ah! - subpar other woman when I have you. I rub my cock every night thinking of you, darling, fucking my pillow and imagining it’s you beneath me… Do you think of me, darling, when you’re with him?”

“S - sometimes,” you gasped. “Wish you were there…”

“Only sometimes?”

“Always,” you admitted. “Always want you there… want him here… both daddies…”

Lionel grinned mischievously. “Greedy slut. Yes, you love it, don’t you? Not satisfied with just a billionaire - or just a Nobel Laureate - no, you have to have both.”

You buried your head in his neck and whined.

“D - don’t care about that,” you spluttered between groans. “Just want you - and Eli - don’t care about the rest. If - oh, fuck, Lionel!”

You cried out as he pushed your legs back slightly, opening them nice and wide for him, his cock pushing up against your sweet spot just right.

“What was that, darling? If what?”

“Lionel - Lionel, I - ahh! Just like that, Lionel, please…”

He laughed at you, relishing the sight of you rendered so helpless, so cockdrunk, gushing with desire for him, your eyes alight with pleasure and your mouth emitting the most sinful groans.

Lionel pulled out of you, grabbed your hips and turned you over, then swiftly re-entered you from behind, giving him the perfect angle to slap your arse as his cock slid in and out of you.

“I see Michaelson’s been keeping you in line,” Lionel chuckled, examining the bruises and bite marks on your ass cheeks. “Good man. Don’t want you forgetting your place, do we, love?”

“N - no,” you gasped.

“And where is your place, slut?”

“Wherever Daddy wants me,” you groaned into the pillow. “Anywhere - anything you want, Daddy…”

“Good girl.”

He reached around your waist and his expert fingers found your sensitive nub, and you were so close to the edge already that it took him only a few strokes to send you over the edge, screaming incoherently into the pillow, hands gripping tight around the bedpost as you came. Lionel followed soon after, painting your insides with his cum, body shuddering as he held your hips firmly against him, keeping himself buried deep inside you as he filled you up.

Your knees gave way and your hips fell unceremoniously onto the bed, sliding off of Lionel’s cock, and he quickly followed suit, lying on top of you on the messed-up sheets of a bed you’d never slept in.

He pressed lazy kisses wherever he could, across your shoulders and neck, and you giggled when he kissed behind your jaw and his hair tickled against your ear.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered in your ear, and you blushed. You wriggled around underneath him so you were face to face, and his lazy kisses became a deep, warm, loving kiss between the two of you, both savouring the intimacy of the moment.

“I love you, Lionel,” you whispered when your lips parted, as if the room were bugged and it was a secret nobody else could know.

“I love you too, [Y/n],” he replied with a smug smile, knowing he had your heart, body and soul, and that was worth more than any painting, no matter how rare.

You shivered. Lionel kissed you once more then rolled off you to let you go to the bathroom, and when you returned he was still stark naked, looking out the window, where he could see the gala was still in full swing without him.

You approached him from behind, still naked yourself, and wrapped an arm around his waist. He smiled and put an arm around your shoulder to hold you close. He kissed the top of your head, then muttered, “I do want to live with you all year, darling. I’d happily move to California to be with you, even with Michaelson there too. But… my work is here, for now.”

“I know,” you replied, looking out across the estate at the gathered revellers, far too interested in the free food and drink to notice their host’s absence. “It’ll all fall into place one day.”

You were both quiet for a few moments, enjoying each other’s presence, completely naked and vulnerable as you looked down at the party. Most people had taken their masks off by now, and down near the band, you saw a figure of similar build to Lionel, dancing energetically with a dark-skinned woman with unmistakable bushy hair.

“How long have Betty and Sinclair been together?” you wondered aloud.

“Hm? Oh, about… twenty years or so. Why?”

“They’re still so in love.”

“They, my love, are unique among married couples. Especially those in the upper classes. Most rich married couples are miserable, but those two… they almost make me believe in true love.”

“What’s their secret, do you think?”

“Well, either they’re on copious amounts of cocaine…”

You laughed.

“…or they genuinely enjoy one another’s company.” Lionel looked down at you. “You were going to say something earlier. Before I rendered you speechless.”

You smiled. “I was going to say that I don’t care about your money. It’s good to see you reap the rewards of all the effort you’ve put into Shabandar Media, and I definitely like the perks, but if you lost it all, I’d still love you.”

Lionel smirked. “Careful, [Y/n]. Talk like that and one might think you’ve gone soft. You’ll be talking about marriage next.”

“My title would be ‘Doctor Lady’, I’d marry you just for that.”

“Two titles, two lovers. You really are just a collector, aren’t you, [Y/n]?”

“You can talk, with your art collection!” you said teasingly.

“That’s true,” Lionel conceded. “Perhaps we’re both greedy.” He kissed you again, then sighed. “I suppose we should get back to the party. I closed on an important deal tonight, I don’t want them to change their minds because I disappeared at the party, even if it was to fuck you.”

He kissed you one last time, deeply this time, and there was something unusually sweet about it. Before you had chance to savour it, however, Lionel pulled away and began to gather his and your clothes from the floor.

You glanced back out the window and considered, for the first time in a long time, if moving back to England wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#alan rickman #lionel shabandar #lionel x reader #sharing

[monster-energies]

𝚢𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚑'𝚜 𝚗𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚐𝚎

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

welcome to my main page, my name is yarah. where you can stop by and take a look around !! i do hope you stay 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

i am a writer, so you’ll be expecting a lot of fanfic and a heck load of simping 😼 

scrolling down will lead you to my masterlist, these are the fics that i have currently posted on here and on ao3, please have a look and support my writing 💞

i will put a key here to indicate what kind of fanfic you’ll be reading please read my warnings before you read my fics:

🌻 - fluff

🌼 - gen/general 🥀 - angst 🌷 - smut

ℹ - implied

my🌻 ao3 are as follows:  zawarudos ( for more jojo’s bizarre adventure based fics ) and, monsterenergies ( for multifandom fics i choose to post or not post on here ) 

to see what i will be currently writing please click or tap on the flower ( 🌼 ) this will lead you to the writing space 

if you would like to submit a request please click or tap on the stars ( ✨ )  the requests page, to know when my requests are open or closed, attached with a google form you can fill out

if you would like to be apart of my taglist, please click or tap on the sun ( ☀ )

NOTE: all of the writing you read and the covers and art belong to me. please don’t steal and claim it as your own. 

i hope you enjoy having a look 💕

✩｡:*•.─────  ❁ ❁  ─────.•*:｡✩

severus snape x reader oneshots

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🌻1. please be mine - ao3 | tumblr ( published: 14.09.2021 )

🌻2. hold onto that feeling - ao3 | tumblr ( published 15.09.2021 )*

🌻3. love me, if thats what you wanna do - ao3 | tumblr ( published 20.09.2021 )

🌻🥀4. dawn is a feeling - ao3 | tumblr ( published 27.09.2021 )*

🌻🥀5. whatever a moon has always meant, and whatever a sun will always sing is you - ao3 | tumblr ( published 16.11.2021 )

🌻6. anything but ordinary - ao3 | tumblr ( published 30.11.2021 )

🌻7. blue skies are on the horizon for you - ao3 | tumblr ( published 06.12.2021 )

🌻8. be my birthday date if you may - ao3 | tumblr ( published 31.12.2021 )

🌻🥀9. a land of infinite wonders, a billion lightyears from here now - ao3 | tumblr ( published 09.01.2022 )

🌻10. if you want blood, you got it - ao3 | tumblr ( published 22.01.2022 )

🌻🥀🌷11. you’ll have me sooner than you know it - ao3 | tumblr ( published 10.02.2022 )

🌷12. this is the face of someone who loves you - ao3 | tumblr ( published 05.04.2022 )

🥀🌻 13. i’ve got to get better, and maybe we’ll work it out - ao3 | tumblr ( published 03.07.2022 )

🥀🌻 🌼 14. you don’t have to be sorry for doing it on your own - ao3 | tumblr ( published 31.08.2022 )

🌻15. always a woman - ao3 | tumblr ( published 9.03.2023 )

*note: oneshots 2 and 4 used to be apart of a series formerly called muggle misadventures but this has now been discontinued and are both standalone oneshots

✩｡:*•.─────  ❁ ❁  ─────.•*:｡✩

other

this section is for miscellaneous fanfics i have published, the character and fandom will be stated when necessary

✩｡:*•.─────  ❁ ❁  ─────.•*:｡✩

🌻🌼1. lionel shabandar/reader - you, me and these neon lights - ao3 | tumblr ( published 08.11.2021 )

✩｡:*•.─────  ❁ ❁  ─────.•*:｡✩

WRITING EVENTS

this section here is for all the of the writing events i have participated in.

snapetober 2021

this is my participation in @sxvxrxssnape​‘s snapetober month 2021. for the whole of october, i wrote a oneshot every day for a month with a list of prompts. if you are searching for my snapetober book on ao3, it is under the title severus’ tale.

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severus’ tale - ao3 ( published 01.10.2021 )

STATUS: COMPLETE

overall word count:  101,853

🌻🌼 prompt 1: autumn - title: fridays will always be better than sundays | tumblr ( published 01.10.2021 ) 

🌻🥀 prompt 2: “you have to let go” - title: letters ive written, never meaning to send. because i love you | tumblr ( published 02.10.2021 )

🌻 prompt 3: pumpkin carving - title: floral and fading | tumblr ( published 03.10.2021 )

🥀 prompt 4: regret - title: don’t you feel small | tumblr ( published 04.10.2021 )

🌻 prompt 5: apple orchard - title: love at first feel | tumblr ( published 05.10.2021 )

🌻🥀 prompt 6: hostage/trapped  - title: you almost made it through the fall | tumblr ( published 06.10.2021 )

🌻 ( ℹ 🌷+ 🥀 ) prompt 7: potions  - title: hands all over | tumblr ( published 07.10.2021 )

🌻🥀 prompt 8: emptiness - title: do you know what i’m seeing ? | tumblr ( published 08.10.2021 )

🌻🥀 prompt 9: old books - title: when you’re without love | tumblr ( published 09.10.2021 )

🌻 prompt 10: misunderstandings - title: time alone with you | tumblr ( published 10.10.2021 )

🌻 prompt 11: old friends - title: childhood’s end | tumblr ( published 11.10.2021 )

🌻🥀 prompt 12: alone - title: you deserve this | tumblr ( published 12.10.2021 )

🌻 ( ℹ + 🥀 ) prompt 13: spell casting - title: the spelling rules | tumblr ( published 13.10.2021 )

🌻🥀 prompt 14: cursed - title: she said you were a hero, you played the part | tumblr ( published: 14.10.2021 )

🌻prompt 15: ghosts - title: an ode to my family | tumblr ( published: 15.10.2021 )

🌻 ( ℹ + 🥀) prompt 16: “i’ve got you” - title: the things we do for love | tumblr  ( published: 16.10.2021 )

🌻prompt 17: witching hour - title: strange phenomena | tumblr ( published 17.10.2021 )

🥀prompt 18: (no) mercy - title: i’ve never been so torn up in all of my life, i should have seen this coming | tumblr  ( published 18.10.2021 )

🌻🥀prompt 19: headstone - title: all my daughters | tumblr ( published 19.10.2021 )

🥀prompt 20: night terrors - title: broken pieces shine | tumblr ( published 20.10.2021 )

🌻 ( ℹ +🥀 ) prompt 21: contemplation - title: i can hear this beat, it fills my head up and gets louder and louder | tumblr ( published 21.10.2021 )

🌻 ( ℹ +🌷 ) prompt 22: touch starved - title: i really should be holding you, loving you | tumblr ( published 22.10.2021 )

🌻prompt 23: vampire/bats - title: can we fly, can we fly away | tumblr ( published 23.10.2021 )

🥀prompt 24: fears - title: welcome to the panic room, where all your darkest fears are gonna come for you | tumblr ( published 24.10.2021 )

🌻prompt 25: rainy evening - title: its our time now if you want it to be | tumblr ( published 25.10.2021 )

🌻prompt 26: “don’t leave me” - title: would you really rush out for me now ? | tumblr ( published 26.10.2021 )

🌻prompt 27: unfinished business - title: you are love | tumblr ( published 27.10.2021 )

🌻prompt 28: flashback - title: it’s all coming back to me now | tumblr ( published 28.10.2021 )

🌻🌼prompt 29: costume - title: where did the party go | tumblr ( published 29.10.2021 )

🥀prompt 30: “how could you do this?” - title: you’re the only thing that’s keeping me alive | tumblr ( published 30.10.2021 )

🌻prompt 31: halloween party - title: we are the kids from yesterday | tumblr ( published 31.10.2021 )

#multifandom #multifandom fanfiction #masterlist #harry potter #severus snape #pro severus snape #professor snape #severus snape x reader #severus snape imagine #severus x you #professor snape x reader #snapedom #pro snape #alan rickman #rickmaniac #alan sidney patrick rickman #lionel shabandar x reader #lionel shabandar #lionel shabandar x female reader

[rickmandowneyjr]

omg a request for a one shot!! imagine being lionel shabandar’s main competitor in business and y'all met at a painting auction and getting drunk and he fucked you senseless in his hotel room

Not Too Shabby

Smut, just straight-up smut (18+)

Pairing: Lionel Shabandar x Reader

Warnings: nsfw, degradation (name-calling), age gap

Word count: 2796

A/N: Okay so I might have actually lost it writing this one. Lemme know what you think lol.

Sipping on your whiskey, you were seated at the bar, waiting for the auction to begin. Your hair was gently pulled back into a low, messy bun, with a few loose strands framing your face. You wore a maroon pantsuit, showing off the top of your black, lace bralette under the blazer, as you casually leaned against the counter.

You shut your eyes as you rolled them, as the fourth person in the past half hour approached you. You were just about ready to say that you weren't interested when the person spoke, a small smirk appearing on your lips instead.

"[Y/N]. I see you've found the bar already." The person mused.

"Well, I need something to deal with the headache that comes with having to shoo men away over and over again..." you said, turning to face the man, "Shabby."

As your eyes met his, he raised an eyebrow at the sound of the familiar nickname. He took a seat and you eyed his outfit. He wore a deep red blazer, himself, and it looked great on him.

"Trying to match me, are we?" You teased.

"Please," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself."

"I don't need to do that, darling. That's what you're here for," you bit back with a wink.

You were blessed with yet another eye-roll for that comment. You chuckled softly as you took another sip.

"So, which one will you be going after?" He asked.

"I have my eyes on the 'Pendant portraits' by Rembrandt, but don't worry, I'll make sure to chase after whatever you have your eyes on as well," you said, giving him a cheeky grin. "The 'Impression, Sunrise', I presume?"

He rolled his eyes at you as he scoffed, turning to call the bartender, but you didn't miss the smirk he was trying to fight. Lionel Shabandar was a very successful businessman, media tycoon, and art collector. He ruled the industry. Well, until you showed up, at least. In the last three years, you'd grown enough to give Lionel tough competition and had managed to snag some of his clients. Needless to say, you were his biggest rival.

However, unlike his other competitors, Lionel didn't dislike you. No, he was rather fond of you, actually. Not only were you witty and fun to banter with, but also someone who he butt heads with in the industry. The biggest bonus though was that you were an art collector, just like him, which meant that he kept running into you at events like this one.

You talked business for a while, which basically meant that you made snarky remarks in good fun, till the auction started, and you were to take your seats. Walking into the room, you took a seat at a table and Lionel joined you, sitting across from you, facing you. As people began bidding, you showed no interest until the painting you had your eyes on was up.

Though multiple people had their eyes on the piece of art, you won, having bid $180 million, and left everyone shocked. Since Lionel had recently taken an interest in impressionism, he did not participate.

However, when the time came for Lionel to bid, you gave him a run for his money. The whole room fell silent as the bids bounced back and forth between the two of you. Starting at $30 million, Lionel was the first to bid and you outbid him almost instantly. Within the first minute, anyone else interested had dropped out, realising they stood no chance against the two of you. Eventually, Lionel bid a whopping $250 million after your bid of 200. Leaning back in his chair, he folded his arms and cocked an eyebrow at you, and his eyes said it all. 'Your move, darling,' you could almost hear the arrogance in his voice even though he hadn't spoken.

Dropping every single jaw in the room, you announced, "$350 million."

Even Lionel stared at you with a stupefied look, trying to comprehend what you had just done. As the auctioneer called for another bid, Lionel was about to speak up but his breath hitched at the feeling of your bare foot riding up his leg. He widened his eyes at you, causing you to chuckle under your breath. Pressing along his thigh, you stopped at his crotch, gently applying pressure to the small bulge that was forming. He visibly gulped and you took it a step further, stroking him between your toes. Hissing at the sensation, he shut his eyes and you smirked as the man finished announcing, "...going twice, sold! To no. 37, that is, Ms. [L/N]!"

Lionel's eyes snapped open upon hearing that, making him completely aware of his surroundings again. He shot a glare your way as you withdrew your leg, giving him an amused smile. He narrowed his eyes at you and you pouted. Thankfully, that was the last piece, allowing you to get up and leave, Lionel following you closely.

"That wasn't fair, sweetheart," he said.

You turned to face him as you approached the door. "No hard feelings, Shabby," you mused. "Besides, this isn't the first time you've lost an auction. Why so sour?" You teased, turning to exit. He pushed the door shut with one hand, pinning you in between the two. "That wasn't what I was talking about, darling," he said as he moved closer, and you could feel his clothed member pressing into you.

You turned around and placed a hand on his chest, tugging at the collar of his suit jacket, "I take responsibility for my actions. Now, are we going to your hotel room or mine?"

There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he smirked at your words. He moved away, opening the door for you. You walked out and the two of you were immediately swarmed by a few paparazzi. The cameras flashed as they clicked pictures and asked you, "How does it feel to be on the Forbes 30 Under 30 list, Ms. [L/N]?"

Lionel leaned in, whispering to you. "I didn't know you made Forbes' list."

"Sure you didn't," you teased, and with a subtle roll of his eyes, he said, "I guess congratulations are in order."

"Don't feel too bad, Shabby. You would've made it too if you weren't so..." you paused, subtly side-eyeing him with a playful smile. "Old," you said.

Placing his hand on the small of your back, he said, "More often than not, my dear, age equals experience." The warmth from where his hand was spread all through you and you could feel yourself getting excited. Neither of you had looked away from the cameras, leaving the paparazzi none-the-wiser about your little exchange.

"No matter, though. You're about to learn that tonight," he said suggestively, and you finally looked away from the cameras, turning to face him with raised eyebrows. A smirk was plastered on his face and his usually hazel eyes seemed darker, clouded with lust.

With his hand still on your back, he ushered you through the crowd and into his limo. The moment you were inside, neither of you couldn hold back anymore.  You kissed him, and his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. As you straddled him, he pulled away for a moment, saying, "The Langham," and rolled up the partition.

His lips met yours again, effortlessly finding their rhythm once again. His tongue ran across your lower lip, asking for access. You obliged, parting your lips slightly. His tongue almost instantly met yours and they moved against each other in harmony. You pulled away, needing to catch your breath and his lips found your neck, diligently kissing and sucking on your pulse point.

He unbuttoned your suit, completely revealing the beautiful bralette underneath. His hand slid under the thin, lace fabric and you let out a gasp at how cold his hands were, instantly hardening your nipples. Your head lulled back as one hand massaged your breasts and the other gripped your ass. He pulled you closer, pressing your core against the tent in his pants.

"Lionel," you exhaled shakily.

The sound of his name on your lips only riled him up more, causing him to gently nip at your skin and roughly tease your nipples. You leaned against him, biting down on his shoulder to muffle a louder moan. He finally pulled away, looking at the reddened skin on your neck, a satisfied smile appearing on his face.

Sliding off his lap and back into your seat, your hand trailed to his trousers, palming him through them. He groaned as you gave him a soft squeeze, and you freed his cock, allowing it to spring free from its confines. He was huge and your eyes widened at the sight since it looked like he wasn't even fully hard yet. Your fingers wrapped around his cock and he leaned into his seat, letting out a soft moan as you started stroking him. His eyes fluttered shut and you took the opportunity to wrap your lips around his head, causing him to let out a throaty moan.

You chuckled at the reaction before taking him in deeper, hollowing your cheeks out. His fingers wrapped around your nape as you bobbed your head up and down his shaft, which was getting even harder. Your hand moved to cup his balls and he groaned in pleasure. You felt his cock begin to twitch in your mouth and picked up the pace. He came, bucking his hips upwards as his grip around your neck tightened, holding you in place as he released his hot seed deep in your throat. You pulled away, coughing lightly as you swallowed the last of it.

"Sorry," he panted, asking, "Was I too rough there?" You softly shook your head as you wiped the corner of your mouth, letting him know that you were fine.

Perfectly in time, the vehicle came to a halt. The two of you took a moment to look at each other and make yourself presentable before stepping out. You made your way through the lobby and into the elevator, where you found yourselves entangled in each other yet again, on the ride up.

Finally entering his room, he immediately pinned you against the door, his mouth claiming yours. Your hands made their way into his soft, fading blonde hair as his hands hooked under your thighs, lifting you up. With your legs wrapped around him and the door supporting you, he moved his hands to your jacket, fumbling with the buttons. The cool air, along with the feeling of his fingertips gently grazing your skin as he slid it down your shoulders, sent goosebumps across your body.

Letting the jacket fall to the floor, he carried you to the bedroom, his hands firmly gripping your ass as he did. His lips never left yours, and the kiss only got sloppier and more desperate with each step he took. He threw you onto the mattress, his hands wrapping around the waistband of your trousers as he yanked them off. Matching your bralette, you were left in a black lace thong and he let out a low growl as his eyes raked over your body.

He climbed onto the bed, straddling you as leaned over you to kiss you.  Your hands fumbled with the buttons on his jacket and dress shirt, and he gripped your wrists just as you finished undoing them, pushing them over your head as he brought his mouth down to your still clothed breasts.

His lips found your peaks, leaving biting kisses through the fabric. One hand trailed down your side and found your dripping cunt.

"I've barely done anything and you're soaked. What am I to do with you, hmm?" He mused as he rubbed circles around your clit.

"H-have your way with m-me, daddy," you breathed, aching for his touch.

He raised an eyebrow at you, saying, "You're just a dirty little whore, aren't you?"

Your eyes slightly widened in surprise at the name-calling, but you were into it since it was Lionel. You nodded softly and he smirked at you. Quickly discarding your underwear, you felt him tease your entrance with his tip, rubbing along your folds as he said, "Tell me what you want, cub."

"Y-you. I want to f-feel you, L-"

He cut you off as his fingers wrapped around your throat and your eyes rolled back as he slowly pushed into you, spreading your lips for him as he entered you. Your back arched as he filled you up and your fingers gripped the sheets.

"Fuck! S-so... tight! He said, pausing only a moment before he started moving. Pulling out slowly, he rammed back into you, his head hitting your cervix. You whimpered at the feeling, pain and pleasure colliding in a way you had never experienced before. "Oh my G-god Li-" you said, but were cut-off by his grip tightening around your throat.

"Not that," he panted as he thrust into you, "Call me what you did, e-earlier."

You indulged him immediately, saying, "D-daddy, you feel s-so good!" You could see Lionel squeeze his eyes shut as he threw his head back, letting out a low groan. Relentlessly, he kept thrusting into you. An involuntary moan escaped your lips as he brought his fingers to your swollen clit, playing with it. Your nerves felt as though they were on fire, the stimulation bringing you closer to your release.

"I'm close," you cried out.

At that, he pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach. He leaned over your body, pushing deep into you, hitting you at a completely new angle. You buried your face into the mattress, muffling your sounds of ecstasy. Lionel moved close to your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he said, "Does daddy's little slut want to come?"

You gasped. You weren't used to this - no man had ever called you names simply because they were too intimidated. For that very same reason, no one had ever been able to dominate you either. Not well, at least. Lionel Shabandar had unlocked a new kink for you today and you loved it. You nodded and he said, "Well, not yet. That's what you get for not letting me hear you."

You squirmed as you fought the climax that was building. You were doing pretty well considering Lionel was pounding into you, his cock brushing your g-spot with every thrust. As he slowed his motions to longer, rougher thrusts, you knew you couldn't hold back any longer.

"Daddy," you breathed. "I'm gonna-"

"Not yet," he warned, roughly kissing your shoulder.

"P-please," you begged.

His eyes met your gaze as you looked back at him with a pleading look. A smirk appeared on his face as he said, "Do you admit that you're daddy's little whore?"

You nodded yet again and he tutted, "Ah-ah. I want to hear you say it."

You gulped as you admitted, "I... I'm daddy's little whore."

"Good girl," he mused, picking up the pace. "Now.. come for daddy."

At that, your toes curled and you bucked your hips to meet his as your orgasm finally washed over you. He kept his pace, his own release inching closer as he felt your walls clamp down on his cock. With one last powerful thrust, he emptied himself inside you, leaning over your body as he placed a tired kiss on your temple.

"You did so well, cub," he praised as lay down next to you.

"Well, I agree with your wisdom. With age, comes experience, indeed," you said breathlessly and he chuckled lowly at your response.

Turning to face you, he said, "Considering how snarky you are, who knew you'd be so submissive in bed?" You rolled your eyes at his comment, not bothering with a reply. "Also, daddy issues? I never would've guessed," he teased.

"That's rich coming from the guy who enjoyed every bit of it," you bit back, playfully.

His arm wrapped around your waist and he pulled you into his chest, saying, "And there's my snarky little cub." He placed a kiss on your shoulder and you turned around to face him.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower real quick, okay? Just need to get cleaned up."

He groaned as you got out of bed and you turned to him, saying, "You're welcome to join me if you'd like."

"I thought you said you wanted to get cleaned up?" He asked, sitting up with a playful smirk on his face.

Acting surprised you said, "Well, I didn't think you could go again, old man..."

He narrowed his eyes at you as he bit his lip. "Oh, you really need to be taught a lesson," he said, lifting you up as he carried you into the bathroom.

#lionel shabandar #lionel shabandar x reader #lionel shabandar x reader smut #gambit #alan rickman #alan rickman x reader #its illegal that there is no lionel shabandar x reader tag yet #especially considering the sex appeal the man has #did i add the red blazer because he looks fine #yes #smut #rickman #rickmaniac #rickmandowneyjr

[muiitoloko]

Could we have a "Money" sequel?

Title: The Fall

Summary: The fall of Lionel Shabandar.

Pairing: Lionel Shabandar × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Obscenity, jealousy, possessiveness, fear, manipulation.

Author's Notes: This sequel is about years ago when you were just Lionel's Sugar Baby, not his wife. And oh, I was too lazy to review this, so it might just be a big, pointless piece of shit. ( I'll let you know later, so a lot can change.)

First part here

As Lionel Shabandar sauntered into the fancy bar, his eyes scanned the opulent surroundings, searching for his newest conquest. But what he found instead made his blood simmer beneath his polished exterior. There you were, his Sugar Baby, nestled cozily beside a younger, handsome man, your laughter filling the air like tinkling bells. His jaw tightened imperceptibly as a surge of possessiveness prickled at his senses.

Dismissing the couple with a flick of his hand, Lionel made his way to the VIP area, settling onto a plush couch with his cell phone in hand. With calculated nonchalance, he tapped out a message to you, feigning ignorance of your whereabouts.

Minutes felt like hours as he watched you from afar, his patience waning with each passing second. Finally, a notification lit up his screen, and he clenched his jaw as he read your response, the lie dripping from each word like venom.

"I'm just getting ready to sleep," you claimed, your eyes darting as you glanced at the man beside you.

Lionel's grip tightened on his phone, his gaze piercing through the distance to where you sat. A dangerous glint flashed in his eyes as he contemplated his next move, a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

As Shabandar's fingers danced across the screen of his phone, a sly grin crept onto his lips. He knew exactly how to play this game. With calculated precision, he crafted his message, each word dripping with veiled menace and thinly veiled accusation.

"You looked stunning in that dress," he typed, his tone deceptively casual. "Did you use my money to buy it?"

He observed with satisfaction as you tensed beside the other man, your eyes darting nervously around the room. But before you could formulate a response, another message from Lionel appeared on your screen, cutting through the tension like a knife.

"Dismiss whoever this man is and meet me outside," he commanded, leaving no room for negotiation.

As you reluctantly excused yourself from the company of the younger man, Lionel wasted no time in leaving the VIP area, his demeanor exuding a potent mix of authority and impatience. He stood outside, a figure of power and control, waiting for you to emerge.

As you finally left the bar, your cheeks burning a little with embarrassment, Lionel's eyes bore into you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. You knew you shouldn't feel guilty for seeing another man, especially since you and Lionel weren't exclusive, but there was something about the way he looked at you that made you squirm with guilt, but you'd be damned to let it show.

With a swift movement, Lionel grabbed your arm and pulled you towards his car, his grip firm and unyielding. You stumbled slightly in your heels, but he didn't seem to notice, his focus solely on getting you into the car.

"Get in, you little tease," Lionel commanded, his voice dripping with barely contained fury as he gestured towards the passenger seat of his sleek black car.

You complied, sliding into the seat with a demure glance, though there was a glint of mischief in your eyes as you watched him out of the corner of your eye. Lionel's jaw clenched as he caught your gaze, a silent warning flashing in his eyes as he closed the door behind you.

As he settled into the driver's seat, the tension between you two hung thick in the air, palpable and electric. Shabandar's sleek car sped through the darkened streets of London, the tension between you two hung thick in the air like a suffocating fog. Lionel's grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles white with restraint as he struggled to contain his simmering rage.

"You've been a bad girl, haven't you?" Lionel growled lowly, his voice a dangerous rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. "Seeing other men behind my back, using my money to fund your little escapades."

You met his accusing gaze with a nonchalant shrug, a careless flick of your perfectly manicured nails betraying your indifference. "Oh, Lionel, darling," you purred, your voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. "I was just having a bit of fun, you know how it is."

Lionel's jaw clenched at your flippant response, his eyes narrowing in frustration as he fought to maintain his composure. "Fun?" he echoed incredulously, his voice laced with barely contained fury. "You call sneaking around behind my back and spending my hard-earned money 'fun'?"

You chuckled softly, the sound like music to your ears as you watched the fire burn behind Lionel's icy exterior. "Of course, darling," you replied coyly, your eyes gleaming with mischief. "You can't expect me to sit around and wait for you all the time, can you? A girl has needs, after all."

Lionel's grip on the steering wheel tightened even further, his knuckles turning white with anger as he struggled to keep his temper in check. "You think you can just toy with me like this?" he seethed, his voice low and menacing. "You think I'll let you get away with this betrayal?"

But you merely shrugged, a smug smile playing at the corners of your lips as you leaned back in your seat, your eyes dancing with amusement. "Oh, Lionel, darling," you mocked, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "We weren't exclusive, remember? Besides, if anyone's been toying with the other, it's been you and your little one-night stands."

Lionel clenched his jaw and didn't respond, continuing to drive, his knuckles turning white against the leather of the steering wheel. How could you do that? His mind raced with a mixture of anger and hurt, his pride wounded by your blatant disregard for his feelings.

But you were never one to back down from a challenge, your own stubbornness matching his in its intensity. As the silence stretched between you, you took a deep breath and squared your shoulders, steeling yourself for the confrontation to come.

"How could I do what, Lionel?" you countered, your voice calm and steady despite the turmoil roiling beneath the surface. "I haven't done anything wrong. We never agreed to be exclusive, remember?"

Lionel's grip on the steering wheel tightened even further, his frustration boiling over as he struggled to find the right words to convey his feelings. "That doesn't excuse your behavior," he finally spat out, his tone laced with bitterness. "You knew how I felt about you, and yet you still chose to see other men behind my back."

You scoffed at his accusation, rolling your eyes in exasperation as you leaned back in your seat. "Oh, please," you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Don't act like you're some innocent victim in all of this. You've had your fair share of dalliances, haven't you? Or have you conveniently forgotten about all those one-night stands?"

Lionel bristled at your words, his pride wounded by the reminder of his own indiscretions. But before he could formulate a response, you pressed on, your voice taking on a steely edge as you asserted your own autonomy.

"I fulfill my duties as your Sugar Baby, don't I?" you challenged, your gaze meeting his with unwavering resolve. "I please you, I entertain you, whenever you want to see me. Isn't that enough?"

Lionel's jaw clenched even tighter at your words, his frustration reaching a boiling point as he struggled to regain control of the situation.

Lionel parked at the curb for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. Without a word, he unbuckled his belt and pulled you into him, his lips crashing against yours in a heated kiss. You melted into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch as you kissed him back with equal fervor.

Lionel growled against your lips, his teeth grazing lightly against your skin before he pulled back, his gaze burning with determination. "From now on, we're exclusive," he declared, his voice low and commanding.

But you couldn't help but click your tongue in amusement, a sly smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "No," you replied, your voice laced with playful defiance.

Lionel's eyes narrowed in confusion and frustration, his brows furrowing in disbelief. "Why not?" he demanded, his tone betraying his irritation.

You snorted, a smug smile spreading across your face as you met his gaze head-on. "I doubt very much that you could be faithful to me, Lionel," you retorted, your words dripping with sarcasm. "You're too much of a flirt, always chasing after the next pretty thing that catches your eye."

Lionel bristled at your accusation, his pride wounded by your blatant disregard for his feelings. "I may very well be faithful," he protested, his voice tinged with indignation.

But you weren't about to back down, not when you had him right where you wanted him. "Oh, please," you scoffed, rolling your eyes in disbelief. "I know you too well, Lionel. You're incapable of being faithful to anyone but yourself."

Despite his protests, you could see the doubt flickering in Lionel's eyes, the uncertainty gnawing at his resolve. And deep down, you knew that you had him right where you wanted him. You had always wanted Lionel, not just for his money, but for the man himself. And now, you finally had the chance to make him yours, to have him all to yourself.

As Lionel's resolve wavered, you felt a surge of triumph coursing through your veins. You had played the game of manipulation with finesse, and now you were on the verge of claiming your prize.

"Come on, darling," Lionel urged. "You know I can be faithful to you. Just give me a chance to prove it."

You tilted your head to the side, your expression a perfect mix of skepticism and contemplation. "I don't know, Lionel," you mused, your tone teasing yet hesitant. "You've given me quite a lot to think about."

But Lionel wasn't about to take no for an answer, not when victory was so tantalizingly close within his grasp. With a charming smile, he reached out to take your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring.

"Please, my dear," he implored, his gaze locking onto yours with unwavering intensity. "I'll do anything to make this work, to prove to you that I can be the man you need. Just give me a chance, and I promise you won't regret it."

You couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction at Lionel's desperate plea, knowing full well that you held all the power in this situation. With a coy smile, you nodded in acquiescence, your heart pounding with anticipation as you watched Lionel's expression shift from triumph to relief.

"Alright, Lionel," you relented, your voice soft and melodic. "You've convinced me. I'll give you a chance to prove yourself, but don't think for a second that I'll let you off easy if you break my trust."

Lionel's smile widened into a grin, his eyes sparkling with genuine gratitude as he pulled you into his arms, his embrace warm and comforting. "Thank you, my dear," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I won't let you down, I promise."

But even as Lionel basked in the glow of his apparent victory, you couldn't help but smile to yourself, knowing that the real game had only just begun. As he drove you back to his mansion, his arrogance palpable in the air, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through your veins.

Once you arrived at the mansion, Lionel wasted no time in leading you inside, his confidence unwavering as he showed you around the opulent surroundings. But as you stepped into the lavish living room, your eyes widened in shock and horror at the sight that greeted you.

In the corner of the room, lounging regally on a plush velvet cushion, was a massive lion, its golden mane shimmering in the soft glow of the room.

You couldn't help but gasp in terror, instinctively taking a step back as your heart pounded in your chest. Lionel, ever the picture of calm and collected, merely chuckled at your reaction, his arm instinctively wrapping around you in a protective gesture.

"Don't worry, my dear," he reassured you, his voice dripping with amusement. "That's just Percy, my loyal companion. He won't harm you, I promise."

But you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gripped you, your eyes darting nervously between Lionel and the lion. You had never been to his house before, your dates always taking place in the safety of your apartment or in fancy hotel rooms. And now, here you were, face to face with a real-life lion, and you couldn't believe your eyes.

Lionel's laughter filled the air, his amusement evident as he watched your trembling form with a mixture of fondness and amusement. "I can assure you, my dear," he teased, his voice laced with playful flirtation, "you have nothing to fear from Percy. He's as gentle as a lamb, aren't you, boy?"

The lion let out a low rumble, its eyes sparkling with mischief as it regarded you with curiosity. Despite Lionel's assurances, you couldn't shake the feeling of dread that gnawed at your stomach, the primal instinct to flee rising within you.

But Lionel wouldn't hear of it, his grip on your arm tightening as he pulled you closer to him. "Stay close to me, my dear," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "I'll protect you from anything that dares to harm you, even if it's my own pet."

With his strong arm around you, you felt a surge of reassurance coursing through your veins, your fear gradually giving way to a sense of security. And as you watched the lion with cautious curiosity, you couldn't help but marvel at the strange and wondrous world that Lionel inhabited.

He led you into the bedroom, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you as he closed the door behind you, shutting out the unsettling presence of his pet lion. You sank into the plush bedding, the soft fabric enveloping you in a cocoon of comfort as you let out a contented sigh.

Lionel approached you with a predatory gleam in his eyes, his hands reaching out to grasp your waist as he pulled you closer to him. His lips brushed against your neck in a tantalizing caress, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine as you melted into his embrace.

With a sigh of contentment, you relaxed against him, your body moulding to his as you surrendered yourself to the intoxicating sensation of his touch. But just as you began to lose yourself in the moment, Lionel's voice cut through the air like a sharp blade, his tone laced with suspicion.

"Did that man at the bar do something for you?" he questioned, his voice low and menacing. "Did he make you wet?"

You couldn't help but snort in disbelief at his audacity, the absurdity of his question causing you to roll your eyes in exasperation. "No, Lionel," you replied dismissively, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "That man did nothing for me. Unlike you, he lacks the charm and skill to truly satisfy a woman."

Lionel stood proudly before you, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his lips, he couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction coursing through his veins. He had managed to quell the doubts that had plagued his mind, reassured by the undeniable truth that you belonged to him and him alone.

"Open your legs, my dear," Lionel commanded, his voice laced with a hint of arrogance as he reached out to you. His fingers trailed eagerly along the hem of your dress, anticipation coursing through him as he prepared to lay claim to what was rightfully his.

You complied eagerly, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you lifted your dress, revealing the delicate lace of your panties underneath. Lionel's breath caught in his throat at the sight, his arousal growing with each passing moment as he drank in the sight of you, his little mouse, ready and waiting for him.

With a wicked grin, Lionel leaned in closer, his fingers trailing teasingly along the fabric of your panties as he pressed himself against you. He could feel the heat of your arousal radiating through the thin material, a silent testament to your desire for him and him alone.

But as Lionel's fingers delved beneath the fabric, a smirk of satisfaction spread across his lips as he felt the truth for himself. You were dry, completely untouched by the man from the bar, your innocence preserved for him and him alone.

"See, my dear?" Lionel murmured huskily, his voice thick with satisfaction as he gazed down at you. "That man did nothing for you. You belong to me, body and soul."

You couldn't help but smile at his possessiveness, your heart swelling with affection as you reached out to him, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Only you, Lionel," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Only ever you."

With a triumphant grin, Lionel captured your lips in a heated kiss, his passion igniting a fire within you that burned brighter with each passing moment. And as you surrendered yourself to him completely, you knew that there was nowhere else you'd rather be than in the arms of your lion, your lover, your king.

As Lionel's fingers trailed teasingly along the fabric of your lace panties, you couldn't help but squirm beneath his touch, your arousal growing with each passing moment. His touch ignited a fire within you, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your veins as you surrendered yourself to the intoxicating sensation of his hands on your skin.

Before long, you were wet and writhing beneath him, your body arching towards his touch as you begged for more. Lionel's smirk widened into a satisfied grin as he felt your arousal, his own desire reaching dizzying heights as he realized the power he held over you.

With a swift movement, Lionel ripped the lace panties from your body, leaving them in tatters as he discarded them onto the floor. You protested slightly, lamenting the loss of your favorite lingerie, but Lionel simply chuckled in amusement, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Don't worry, my dear," he reassured you, his voice low and husky with desire. "I'll buy you thousands of other panties, all more exquisite than the last. But for now, I just want to taste you, to feel your sweet essence on my tongue."

With that, Lionel buried his face between your thighs, his tongue delving eagerly into your slick folds as he savored the taste of you. You moaned in ecstasy, your fingers tangling in his hair as you urged him closer, desperate for more of his delicious touch.

Lionel's lips and tongue worked tirelessly to pleasure you, his movements skillful and calculated as he drove you to the brink of ecstasy and beyond. Every flick of his tongue sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, your body trembling with anticipation as you neared the edge of release.

Lionel then also used his fingers to take you to ecstasy, penetrating you with his fingers with a skillful precision that left you gasping for breath. His touch ignited a fire within you, sending you spiraling towards oblivion as he explored every inch of your trembling body.

But Lionel wasn't content with just his fingers, oh no. He wanted to mark you, to claim you as his own in every way possible. So as he pleasured you with his hands, his teeth grazed lightly against your skin, leaving behind small, red crescent moons as evidence of his possession.

You whimpered beneath him, your body writhing with pleasure as he devoured you like the lion he was, his hunger insatiable and relentless. And when you finally reached ecstasy, your world exploded into a kaleidoscope of sensations, your vision blurring as you surrendered yourself completely to him.

As you lay there, spent and breathless, Lionel stood up with a satisfied smirk, his chin shining with your essence as he undid his pants with deliberate slowness. Each movement was deliberate, calculated, as if he were savoring every moment of anticipation before claiming his prize.

With a low growl, Lionel pulled down his pants, revealing the throbbing length of his arousal as it stood proudly before you. You couldn't tear your gaze away from him, mesmerized by the sight of him, by the power he held over you.

And as he hovered over you, his eyes dark with desire, you knew that there was no turning back. Lionel was going to take everything from you, body and soul, and you were more than willing to surrender to him completely.

As Lionel stroked himself for a moment, his eyes lingering on your glistening core, he felt a surge of desire coursing through him. With deliberate movements, he reached for the condom, his fingers deftly wrapping it around his throbbing length as he prepared to claim you once more.

Meanwhile, you lay in bed, your body still trembling from the force of your orgasms, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of your lips. You shifted lazily in Lionel's expensive sheets, reveling in the luxurious feel of the fabric against your skin as you basked in the afterglow of your shared passion.

With a contented sigh, you rolled onto your back, inhaling deeply as you buried your face in Lionel's sheets, the scent of him surrounding you like a warm embrace. But before you could fully lose yourself in the moment, you felt the bed shift as Lionel climbed onto the bed behind you, his presence looming over you like a shadow.

With practiced ease, Lionel pulled you close, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he positioned himself behind you, his arousal pressing eagerly against your trembling flesh. You gasped softly at the sensation, your heart racing with anticipation as you prepared yourself for what was to come.

But just as Lionel was about to penetrate you, a scratch sounded at the door, causing you to tense in surprise. Lionel's grip on you tightened, his irritation evident as he called out to the intruder, his voice firm and commanding.

"Percy, not now," he barked, his tone brooking no argument. "Daddy's busy tonight, you'll have to find somewhere else to sleep."

You couldn't help but chuckle at Lionel's stern tone, finding amusement in his paternal affection for his pet lion. He penetrated you, ignoring the scratches on the wood caused by his beloved lion behind the door, you couldn't help but moan from the sensation of him stretching you, your walls parting to accommodate his girth. With each strong and fast thrust, you cried out in pleasure, burying your face in the pillows as Lionel drove into you with a relentless intensity.

"God, Lionel," you gasped, your voice muffled by the soft fabric of the pillows. "You feel so good, so deep..."

Lionel's grunts of exertion mingled with your moans of pleasure, the sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the room as you surrendered yourself completely to him. But just as you were on the brink of ecstasy, the door finally gave way under the lion's force, and Percy walked in, eager to sleep on the bed.

Lionel's movements faltered for a moment as he glanced over at the intruding lion, his irritation evident in the furrow of his brow. "No, Percy, not now," he admonished, his tone firm yet affectionate. "Daddy's busy, you'll have to find somewhere else to sleep."

But Percy paid no heed to Lionel's words, his attention fixated on the bed as he padded closer, his tail wagging eagerly behind him. You couldn't help but tense at the sight of the massive lion, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched him with trepidation.

Lionel, however, seemed unfazed by Percy's presence, his focus solely on the task at hand. With a determined glare, he resumed his thrusting, his movements becoming even more fervent as he sought to bring you both to the pinnacle of pleasure.

But despite the tension in the room, Percy made no move to harm you, his gaze softening as he climbed onto the bed beside Lionel, his massive form dwarfing the both of you. You watched him warily, unsure of what to expect, but to your surprise, he merely settled down beside Lionel, his tail swishing lazily in the air.

Lionel paused for a moment, his hand reaching out to stroke Percy's mane with a gentle touch. "Good boy," he murmured, his voice laced with affection as he glanced over at you with a smirk. "Do you want to pet Percy, my dear?" he asked, his voice low and inviting.

You hesitated, fear flickering in your eyes as you glanced at the massive lion beside you. But before you could voice your apprehension, Lionel caught you by surprise, pulling you to your knees and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Now, now, don't be afraid," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear in a tantalizing caress. "Percy won't harm you, I promise. He's just a big softie, aren't you, boy?"

As you came face to face with the lion, you couldn't help but tremble with fear, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched him with wary eyes. But to your surprise, Percy merely regarded you with curiosity, his tail wagging lazily behind him as he sniffed the air.

"Go on, my dear," Lionel encouraged, his voice low and soothing. "Give him a pet. I promise he won't bite."

With Lionel's reassuring words echoing in your mind, you tentatively reached out to touch Percy's mane, your fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against his soft fur. To your surprise, he didn't recoil or lash out, but instead leaned into your touch, his eyes closing in contentment as he let out a low rumble of pleasure.

"That's it," Lionel murmured, his hand guiding yours as you stroked Percy's mane with increasing confidence. "See? He's just a big softie. Nothing to be afraid of."

Encouraged by Lionel's words, you continued to pet Percy, your fear gradually melting away as you lost yourself in the sensation of his warm fur beneath your fingertips. And as Percy relaxed under your touch, you couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence coursing through you, emboldened by the trust that he placed in you.

Meanwhile, Lionel resumed his thrusting, his movements slow and deliberate as he pounded deeper into you with each stroke. You moaned in ecstasy, your body trembling with pleasure as you surrendered yourself completely to him, your fingers tangling in Percy's mane as you lost yourself in the sensation of his touch.

As you and Lionel reached climax after a few more thrusts and bites from Lionel on your neck, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you, your body trembling with ecstasy as you surrendered yourself completely to him. With a low groan, Lionel spilled into the condom, his release hot and powerful as he emptied himself inside the rubber.

But before you could fully recover from the intensity of your shared climax, Percy suddenly pushed his head against your stomach with a certain force, causing both you and Lionel to topple off the bed. You fell onto Lionel's chest with a soft thud, the impact knocking the wind out of you as you landed on top of him.

Lionel grunted in pain as the breath was forced from his lungs, but he refused to let go of you, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he pulled you closer to him. "Damn it, Percy," he muttered, his voice strained with discomfort. "That wasn't how I imagined my fall."

"What are you thinking about, my dear?" Lionel asked, his tone tinged with curiosity as he emerged from the suite's bathroom, towel drying his hair as he looked at his wife who seemed lost in thought, lying comfortably on the bed.

You snapped out of your reverie,, your mind racing with memories of your past as Lionel's Sugar Baby. But you couldn't let him know that, not when you were now his wife too. So you quickly conjured up a lie, flashing him a bright smile. "Oh, just thinking about the new dress I wore," you replied casually, hoping to divert his attention away from your true thoughts.

Lionel snorted irritably, pretending to be irritated. "And how much did that dress cost me, hmm?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow in mock annoyance.

You chuckled softly, rolling your eyes playfully. "Oh, you know me, darling," you teased, reaching out to trace a finger along his jawline. "I couldn't resist splurging a little with my allowance."

Lionel sighed dramatically, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "You never cease to amaze me with your extravagant tastes," he remarked, though there was a hint of fondness in his voice.

Meanwhile, Percy entered the bedroom, his massive form adorned with pink bows in his mane, causing Lionel to look on in shock. "What on earth is that?" he exclaimed, his eyes widening in disbelief.

You laughed at his reaction, finding it amusing how flustered he was by Percy's appearance. But you didn't respond to his question as you called Percy closer, beckoning him to come to mommy. After all, you considered yourself the lion's mother now that you were married to Lionel, who was undoubtedly the lion's father.

As Percy padded over to you, his massive form adorned with pink bows, you couldn't help but smile affectionately at him. "Come here, my handsome boy," you cooed, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to his furry forehead. "You look absolutely beautiful with those pink bows that mommy put on you."

Lionel watched in disbelief as you showered Percy with affection, his indignation growing by the second. When he noticed Percy's claws painted with pink nail polish, he was even more incensed, his pride wounded by your blatant disregard for his beloved lion's masculinity.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" he exclaimed, his voice rising with indignation. "Percy is a male lion, he shouldn't be wearing roses and bows like some pampered poodle!"

But you merely ignored his protests, your attention focused solely on Percy as you continued to lavish him with attention. After all, you always got what you wanted, and Lionel was no exception. You were a manipulative shrew, and Lionel was wrapped around your finger, just as you liked it.

With a triumphant smirk, you leaned in to kiss Percy once more, ignoring Lionel's sputtering protests as you reveled in your victory. After all, you had him right where you wanted him, and there was nothing he could do to stop you.

As Lionel's protests fell on deaf ears, he realized with a sinking feeling that he had truly fallen, a victim to your manipulative charms. But try as he might, he couldn't deny the undeniable truth: you always got what you wanted, and he was powerless to resist you.

With a defeated sigh, Lionel sank onto the bed beside you, resigned to his fate as he watched you dote on Percy with a mixture of frustration and begrudging admiration. After all, there was no denying that you had a way of getting what you wanted, no matter the cost.

And as he glanced at Percy, his massive form adorned with pink bows and painted claws, Lionel couldn't help but feel a surge of indignation at the sight. But deep down, he knew that he was powerless to stop you, that you held all the power in this relationship, and he was merely along for the ride.

With a resigned shake of his head, Lionel reached out to stroke Percy's mane, his touch gentle yet hesitant. "You're a lucky lion, Percy," he murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of bitterness. "You have a mommy who spoils you rotten and a daddy who can't say no to her."

But as Percy nuzzled against him affectionately, Lionel couldn't help but smile, his heart swelling with a strange sense of pride. After all, he may have fallen, but at least he had fallen for you, his manipulative shrew of a wife. And in the end, that was all that mattered.

#lionel shabandar #lionel shabandar x reader #gambit #alan rickman x reader #alan rickman

[muiitoloko]

I loved Money and The Fall, and I just need MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE

.

.

. Please???

Title: "Thank you"

Summary: Lionel and you go shopping, and later you thank him.

Pairing: Lionel Shabandar × Fem!Reader

Warnings: Obscenity, manipulation.

First and Second part here.

As Lionel sat on the sofa, his irritation growing by the second, he couldn't help but feel a sense of resentment towards you for dragging him along on this shopping trip. He had been looking forward to a relaxing day off, but instead, he found himself playing the role of your personal assistant, carrying your shopping bags and waiting impatiently while you indulged in your extravagant whims.

With a sigh of frustration, Lionel took a sip of his champagne, his gaze fixed on you as you perused the array of luxury Chanel bags on display. "Can't you make up your mind any faster?" he grumbled, his tone tinged with irritation. "I didn't sign up for this."

You glanced over at him with a playful smirk, your eyes twinkling with mischief as you continued to evaluate the bags before you. "Oh, come now, darling," you teased, your voice laced with amusement. "Where's your sense of adventure? We're just getting started."

Lionel snorted derisively at your words, his irritation only growing as he watched you deliberate over which bag to purchase. "Adventure, huh?" he muttered, rolling his eyes. "More like a never-ending nightmare."

Ignoring his grumbling, you turned your attention back to the bags, your mind racing with excitement at the thought of adding each one to your collection. But just as you were about to make your decision, an idea struck you, and you turned to the employee with a mischievous glint in your eye.

"I'll take them all," you declared boldly, your voice ringing out with determination.

Lionel nearly choked on his champagne at your words, his eyes widening in disbelief as he stared at you in shock. "All of them?" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with incredulity. "Are you out of your mind? Your allowance won't be enough to cover that."

You merely shrugged nonchalantly, a sassy grin playing on your lips as you met his gaze head-on. "Oh, I know," you replied casually, your tone teasing. "But who said anything about using my allowance? Your unlimited credit card should cover it just fine."

Lionel's jaw dropped in astonishment at your audacity, his mind reeling with disbelief at the thought of the exorbitant bill that awaited him. But even as he sputtered in protest, he couldn't deny the rush of excitement that surged through him at the prospect of indulging your every whim, no matter the cost.

As he hesitated, you put your hands on your hips, looking at him with a mix of irritation and defiance. "What's the matter, Lionel?" you asked, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "The lion got your tongue?"

The employee assisting you shifted nervously, sensing the tension between you and Lionel. They discreetly took a step back, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire of a potential argument.

Lionel's jaw clenched as he struggled with his inner turmoil. He knew he shouldn't give in to your demands, especially when it came to frivolous spending. But deep down, he couldn't deny the rush of excitement that coursed through him at the thought of indulging you, even if it meant draining his bank account.

With a resigned sigh, Lionel reached into his wallet and pulled out his unlimited Black card. He handed it to you reluctantly, his expression a mixture of frustration and begrudging admiration. "Fine," he muttered, his voice tinged with defeat. "But don't expect me to be happy about it."

You couldn't help but smirk triumphantly as you took the card from him, knowing full well that you had won this round. "Don't worry, darling," you replied sweetly, your voice dripping with faux innocence. "I'll make it up to you later."

Lionel's eyes lit up at your promise, he eagerly accompanied you to the register, setting aside his glass of champagne. His anticipation grew palpable as he watched you confidently type in your card password, feeling his excitement build with each keystroke. He couldn't resist pressing himself against you, letting you feel the undeniable evidence of his arousal, a silent testament to his desire for you.

As the employees packed the bags with your purchases and you provided the address for the remaining items to be sent to the mansion, Lionel's focus remained solely on you, relishing in the sensation of your body pressed against his. He didn't care if anyone noticed his erection, his thoughts consumed by the depraved fantasies that awaited them at home.

With the transaction approved and the card handed back to you, Lionel couldn't resist leaning in to kiss your neck, his lips trailing along your skin with a hunger that matched his own. "I can't wait to get you home, my little mouse," he whispered huskily, his voice tinged with desire.

You chuckled softly at his words, knowing full well the effect you had on him. "Oh, I'm counting on it, my lion," you replied with a wicked grin, your fingers trailing teasingly along his chest.

Taking the shopping bags from the counter, Lionel made sure to keep them close, using them to discreetly conceal his arousal as you both made your way back to his black BMW. Once inside the car, the tension between you was palpable, the anticipation of what awaited them at home hanging heavy in the air.

As Lionel started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, he couldn't help but steal glances at you, his desire burning bright in his eyes. "You know, my dear," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "You have a way of driving me wild like no one else can."

You laughed softly, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. "And you love every minute of it, don't you, my lion?" you teased, your voice dripping with seduction.

Lionel's lips curled into a smirk as he glanced over at you, the fire of desire blazing in his eyes. "Oh, you have no idea," he replied with a low growl, his hand reaching out to intertwine with yours as he sped towards home, eager to fulfill all the depraved fantasies that danced through his mind.

As you arrived home in record time, Lionel's anticipation for what he assumed would be a passionate encounter was palpable. However, his hopes were quickly dashed as you directed him to carry all the bags to your clothes room. Grumbling under his breath, Lionel obeyed, his irritation growing with each step he took.

"Why do I always have to carry everything?" Lionel muttered, shooting you a reproachful glance as he struggled under the weight of the numerous shopping bags.

You simply smirked in response, enjoying the sight of Lionel's frustration. "Because you're such a strong lion, my dear," you teased, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "And what's a little extra weight for someone as powerful as you?"

Lionel rolled his eyes at your remark, but said nothing as he continued to lug the bags into the clothes room. Percy, ever the loyal companion, came to his aid, helping to carry some of the bags in his massive jaws.

As you began to unpack the bags, Lionel watched with a mixture of annoyance and begrudging admiration. He couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through him at the sight of the new dresses, shoes, bags, and perfumes you had acquired. But he also couldn't shake the feeling of resentment at being relegated to the role of your personal assistant once again.

As Lionel left for the bedroom, he started to take off his clothes, eager to put on something more comfortable after the long day of shopping. He peeled off his shirt, tossing it aside when you appeared, closing the door behind you with a soft click. His eyes lit up as you approached him, a sultry smile playing on your lips.

You reached up to him, trailing your fingers lightly along his chest before pulling him into a passionate kiss. Lionel melted into your embrace, his frustration from earlier fading away as he lost himself in the sensation of your lips against his.

Breaking the kiss, you looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. "Thank you for all the gifts, darling," you purred, your voice dripping with seduction.

Lionel's gaze darkened with desire as he looked down at you, his hands sliding down to grasp your hips possessively. "You know, my little mouse," he growled, his voice low and husky. "There's another form of thanks I have in mind."

You chuckled softly, trailing your fingers teasingly along his chest. "Oh, I think I know exactly what you mean, my lion," you replied, your voice husky with desire.

With a hungry glint in his eyes, Lionel pulled you close, his lips crashing down on yours in a heated kiss. You responded eagerly, your body pressing against his as the passion between you ignited into flames.

Breaking away from the kiss, Lionel grinned wickedly at you, his eyes smoldering with desire. "Come on, my little mouse," he whispered huskily, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Let's go to bed and see just how grateful you can be."

With a sly smirk, you allowed Lionel to pull you towards the bed, eager to fulfill his desires and indulge in the passionate encounter that awaited you both. As Lionel helped you take off your panties under your dress, a mischievous smile stretched across his lips when he saw you already turned on by him, practically without him doing anything. His confidence swelled at the sight of your arousal, a silent testament to his power over you, even in the subtlest of moments.

With a playful glint in his eyes, Lionel decided to indulge in a rare moment of playful teasing, something he rarely did. As he gently caressed your inner thighs, his fingers dancing teasingly close to your heated core, he couldn't help but chuckle softly.

"Did you miss your daddy, little mouse?" he murmured playfully, his voice low and husky as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Or were you just waiting for me to make my move?"

You shivered at the sensation of his breath against your skin, a wave of desire coursing through you at his words. Despite knowing his manipulative ways, you couldn't deny the effect he had on you, your body responding eagerly to his touch.

With a wicked grin, Lionel continued his playful ministrations, his fingers tracing lazy circles against your skin as he teased you mercilessly. "Tell me, my little mouse," he whispered huskily, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Do you want your daddy to take care of you?"

You moaned softly in response, unable to form coherent words as Lionel's touch drove you to the brink of madness. His playful demeanor only added to the intensity of the moment, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole.

With a sly grin, Lionel kissed his way up your thighs, reveling in the way your body trembled with anticipation beneath him. He relished in keeping your legs open for him, knowing that you were completely at his mercy, yet also fully in control.

As he reached your heat, Lionel buried himself in you, his hooked nose expertly separating your folds as he delved deeper, his tongue eagerly exploring every inch of your slick heat. He reveled in the taste of your arousal, the intoxicating scent of your desire driving him wild with need.

You moaned in ecstasy, your fingers tangling in his hair as you urged him on, your hips bucking against his mouth in a silent plea for more. Lionel obliged eagerly, his tongue dancing expertly over your sensitive flesh as he drove you to the brink of ecstasy.

With each flick of his tongue, each stroke of his lips, Lionel pushed you closer and closer to the edge, his own arousal growing with each muffled cry of pleasure that escaped your lips. He was determined to make you unravel beneath him, to bring you to the peak of pleasure and beyond.

And as you cried out his name in ecstasy, your body shuddering uncontrollably in the throes of release, Lionel felt a surge of triumph wash over him. He had succeeded in pleasuring you, in satisfying your every desire, just as he always did.

With a satisfied smirk, Lionel leaned back, his chest heaving with exertion as he gazed down at you with a smug grin. "Did I make my little mouse happy?" he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

You could only nod in response, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure as you basked in the afterglow of your release.

As Lionel climbed into bed with you, a wicked grin spread across his lips as he eyed your form, still clad in the dress you had worn earlier. His hands eagerly moved to his pants, unbuttoning them with practiced. But just as you began to shimmy out of your dress, Lionel stopped you with a firm hand, his eyes smoldering with desire as he looked down at you. "No," he murmured huskily, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Keep the dress on, my little mouse. I want to take you like this, fully clothed. It's more sinful that way."

You couldn't help but comply with his request, a thrill of excitement coursing through you at the thought of indulging in his twisted fantasies. With a sly grin, you settled back against the pillows, your dress hiked up around your hips as you eagerly awaited Lionel's next move.

With a low growl of desire, Lionel rubbed himself a bit, savoring the sensation of your arousal against his skin before slipping into you with a single, smooth motion. Your moans of pleasure filled the room as he began to pound into you hard, his hips driving forward with relentless force.

The bed creaked and groaned with each thrust, the sound of the headboard hitting the wall echoing through the room. But neither of you cared about the noise you were creating, lost in the heat of the moment as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure that consumed you both.

Lionel's hands gripped the sheets tightly as he pistoned into you, his movements becoming more desperate with each passing moment. His lion-like instincts took over, his primal desire for dominance driving him to claim you as his own in the most carnal way possible.

And as you cried out his name in ecstasy, your body writhing beneath him, Lionel felt a surge of triumph wash over him. He had conquered you, claimed you as his own, and there was nothing you could do to resist him.

You clung to him, your nails scratching your husband's back, leaving red marks in their wake. It hurt, but Lionel didn't care; he loved admiring the marks his lioness left on him. His baritone voice became thicker and huskier as he whispered dirty things in your ear, each word sending shivers of pleasure down your spine.

You arched against him in response, eagerly receiving his thrusts as he drove into you with a primal intensity. His eyes darkened even more with desire when he saw you squeezing your breasts through your dress and bra, the fabric straining to contain your ample curves.

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, Lionel leaned in and sucked on your nipple through the fabric, leaving a wet spot behind as he teased you mercilessly. You begged to feel his lips without barriers, your voice dripping with need as you pleaded for more.

With a predatory grin, Lionel stopped thrusting for a moment, his hands moving to rip the top of your dress and pull down your bra, revealing your beautiful breasts in all their glory. They were a true masterpiece, and he couldn't resist taking them in his mouth, his tongue teasing your sensitive flesh as he played with one nipple while his hand worked the other.

"You like that, don't you, you little slut?" he growled, his voice thick with desire as he lavished attention on your breasts. "You're such a filthy little thing, begging for my touch."

You moaned in response, your body trembling with pleasure as Lionel's words sent waves of desire crashing over you. You reveled in the feeling of his lips on your skin, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole.

And as Lionel continued to drive into you with wild abandon, his primal instincts taking over, you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure of the moment. With each thrust, each touch, you lost yourself in the ecstasy of being claimed by your husband, the lion who was powerless to resist his manipulative little mouse.

As Lionel continued to ravage you with primal fervor, you reveled in the sensation of being thoroughly violated by your husband. It was a twisted dynamic, one where you held all the power, and Lionel willingly submitted to your every whim.

You could see the desperation in Lionel's eyes, his face contorted into a grimace as he fought to contain his impending orgasm, refusing to allow himself release until you had reached the pinnacle of pleasure. But you had other plans in mind, relishing in the knowledge that you held his pleasure in the palm of your hand.

With a wicked grin, you teased him mercilessly, your voice dripping with seduction as you urged him on. "Cum for me, my lion," you purred, your words driving him wild with desire. "I want to feel you fill me up, to mark me as yours."

Lionel's resolve wavered at your words, his hips stuttering in their relentless rhythm as he struggled to hold on. But you weren't about to let him off that easily, not when you were so close to achieving your own release.

With a wicked gleam in your eye, you urged him on, your voice thick with desire as you begged for more. "I want you to cum for me, Lionel," you moaned, your nails digging into his back as you rode the wave of pleasure. "I want to feel you lose control, to give in to your primal instincts and claim me as yours."

Lionel's resistance crumbled at your words, his control slipping away as he surrendered himself completely to the pleasure of the moment. With a primal roar of ecstasy, he let go, his orgasm crashing over him like a tidal wave as he spilled himself inside you, marking you as his in the most primal way possible.

You screamed in ecstasy as Lionel's release sent you hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing with pleasure as you succumbed to the overwhelming sensation. It was a moment of pure bliss, one where you lost yourself completely to the ecstasy of being claimed by your husband, the lion who was powerless to resist your manipulative charms.

As you lay there, panting and sated, Lionel's gaze fell upon your ruined form, the torn dress barely clinging to your sweat-soaked skin. He felt a surge of possessiveness wash over him at the sight, his desire to claim you as his own overwhelming.

With a predatory gleam in his eye, Lionel reached out and grabbed the headboard, his fingers digging into the wood as he leaned in close. "You look so beautiful like this, my little mouse," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "So ruined and yet so utterly mine."

You whimpered in response, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure as Lionel's words washed over you like a tidal wave. You were his, completely and utterly, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

Just then, a scratch at the door interrupted the moment, the sound of Percy wanting to come in. But Lionel wasn't about to let anything ruin the intimate moment you were sharing. With a primal roar, he sent Percy away, asserting his dominance as the head of the household.

"Mom and dad are busy, Percy," Lionel snarled, his voice echoing through the room. "Go find something else to occupy your time."

With a defeated whimper, Percy slunk away, leaving you and Lionel alone once more. And as you basked in the afterglow of your passionate encounter, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction wash over you.

For in that moment, you knew that you had won, that Lionel was completely and utterly under your spell. And as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you couldn't help but smile at the thought of all the twisted games you would play together in the future.

Lionel looked back at you, a smug grin stretching across his lips as he slid out of you with a wet sound, his gaze lingering on your ruined form sprawled across the bed, his cum dripping down your legs. "Well, my little mouse," he purred arrogantly, his voice thick with satisfaction. "I must say, that was quite the thank you."

With a self-satisfied smirk, Lionel straightened himself up and smoothly shoved himself back into his pants, relishing in the sight of you lying there, thoroughly debauched and utterly ruined. It was a sight he could never tire of, one that filled him with a sense of power and dominance unlike anything else.

As he adjusted his clothing, Lionel's gaze never wavered from your trembling form, his eyes smoldering with desire as he took in every delicious detail. Yes, this was the end result of indulging your every whim, and he had to admit, it was well worth it.

With a triumphant smirk, Lionel leaned in close, his lips brushing against yours in a predatory kiss. "Maybe shopping isn't so bad after all," he murmured huskily, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Especially when it leads to moments like this."

And with that, Lionel straightened up, his expression one of smug satisfaction as he looked down at you, his little mouse, completely and utterly at his mercy. For in that moment, he knew that he had won, that you were his to do with as he pleased, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

#lionel shabandar #lionel shabandar x reader #gambit #alan rickman #alan rickman x reader

[muiitoloko]

Become a Coward

Summary: They were both too cowardly.

Pairing: Eli Michaelson × Daughter! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Neglectful father, mention of rape, mention of death.

First, Second and Third part here.

Days later, Eli received a call from your former landlord, delivering the stark reality that he needed to clear out your apartment. The landlord was eager to rent it out quickly, leaving Eli with the daunting task of confronting the memories of you that lingered within those walls.

For the first time in his life, Eli found himself hesitating, his usual arrogance replaced by a sense of cowardice. He couldn't fathom the idea of entering your apartment alone, surrounded by reminders of your absence. The thought of facing your belongings, untouched since your death, filled him with an overwhelming sense of dread.

But he knew it was something he had to do. He couldn't leave your things behind, gathering dust in an empty apartment. So, swallowing his pride, he reached out to Sarah, the only person he felt he could turn to in his moment of weakness.

Sarah, despite her own struggles and grief, readily agreed to help. She understood the magnitude of the task ahead and knew that Eli couldn't face it alone. Together, they made their way to your apartment, steeling themselves for the emotional ordeal that lay ahead.

The apartment was silent as they entered, the air heavy with the weight of memories that hung like a pall over the space. Dust motes danced in the dim light, casting eerie shadows across the floor as Eli and Sarah surveyed the room.

They began the arduous task of packing up your belongings, carefully placing each item into boxes with a reverence born of love and loss. Your paintings, which adorned the walls in vibrant splashes of color, were the first to be preserved, their beauty a testament to the talent and passion you had possessed in life.

Eli's hands moved mechanically as he carefully placed your brushes and paints into a box, his mind still reeling from the emotional turmoil of the day. Despite his efforts to remain stoic and aloof, the weight of his grief threatened to overwhelm him at every turn.

Turning to Sarah, who was meticulously organizing your art supplies, Eli cleared his throat, his tone betraying a hint of vulnerability beneath his usual facade of arrogance. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his voice rough with emotion as he struggled to maintain his composure.

Sarah glanced up from her task, her expression softening as she met Eli's gaze. She could see the turmoil brewing beneath the surface, the cracks in his facade widening with each passing moment. But instead of calling him out on his bravado, she chose to indulge him with a small smile.

"I'm managing," she replied with a shrug, her voice tinged with sadness. "It's been tough, but I'm finding ways to cope."

Eli nodded, a flicker of guilt flashing in his eyes as he realized the extent of Sarah's suffering. Despite the fact that Sarah had stolen and abandoned him, they had become unexpectedly close since your death, finding solace in each other's company amidst the turmoil of their grief.

"And you?" Sarah's voice interrupted his thoughts, her eyes searching his face for any sign of vulnerability. "How are you holding up, Eli?"

Eli hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor as he struggled to find the words to express the turmoil raging inside him. "I'm fine," he replied brusquely, his tone defensive as he pushed aside his emotions once more. "Just trying to get through this as best as I can."

Sarah rolled her eyes at Eli's arrogant and implacable tone, a hint of exasperation creeping into her voice. "You don't always have to be so stubborn, Eli," she chided gently, her words laced with affection despite her frustration. "It's okay to let yourself feel things, you know."

Eli bristled at her words, his pride stinging at the implication of weakness. But deep down, he knew she was right. He couldn't continue to bury his emotions beneath a facade of indifference, not when the weight of his grief threatened to crush him from within.

With a sigh, Eli closed the box containing your art supplies, his movements slow and deliberate as he tried to quell the turmoil raging inside him. "Let's finish up here," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Then we can move on to the next task."

Sarah nodded in agreement, her eyes softening with understanding as she reached out to squeeze Eli's hand gently. Despite their differences, they had found solace in each other's company in the wake of your death, leaning on one another for support in their time of need.

As they stood up to leave the room, Eli couldn't help but wonder what lay beyond the closed door of your bedroom. He knew it would be difficult to confront the memories that lingered within those walls, but he also knew it was something he had to do.

"Shall we?" Eli gestured towards the bedroom door, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he turned to Sarah for guidance.

Sarah nodded, her resolve firm as she followed Eli into the room. Together, they began the arduous task of sorting through your belongings, each item a painful reminder of the life you had left behind.

As they sifted through the boxes and drawers, Eli's eyes fell upon a small cardboard box tucked away beneath your bed. Curiosity piqued, he reached out to retrieve it, his fingers trembling slightly as he lifted the lid.

Inside, nestled among old books and knick-knacks, was a collection of photographs. Eli's heart clenched at the sight of your smiling face, frozen in time on faded strips of paper. But it was the photo at the bottom of the box that caught his eye, a snapshot of you at your high school prom, radiant and full of life.

"Sarah, come look at this," Eli called out softly, his voice tinged with emotion as he held up the photo for her to see.

Sarah knelt down next to him, her breath catching in her throat as she took in the sight of you in your youth. "She looks so happy," she whispered, her voice filled with longing as she traced the outline of your face with her finger.

Eli nodded in agreement, a lump forming in his throat as he struggled to find the words to express the tumult of emotions swirling inside him. "She was," he replied quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "She was so full of life, so full of promise."

Eli couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over him. Despite the pain of your absence, there was solace to be found in the memories you had left behind, in the love and laughter that had once filled the walls of your home.

As Sarah smiled at the photo, pointing to the teenager next to you, she couldn't help but wonder if Eli remembered this, their daughter's first boyfriend: Jamie, a tall boy who looked a little hipper. Sarah recalled how Eli had reacted when you introduced Jamie, how he had seemed to loathe the boy from the moment he laid eyes on him. She remembered how Eli's jealousy had reared its head when Jamie came to pick you up for a date, how he had scrutinized the boy with a steely gaze, silently warning him to treat you with the utmost respect.

"Eli, do you remember Jamie?" Sarah asked, her voice tinged with amusement as she nudged him playfully. "You were so jealous when [Your Name] introduced him."

Eli's jaw clenched at the mention of Jamie's name, his pride stinging at the memory of the boy who had dared to vie for his daughter's affections. "I wasn't jealous," he replied brusquely, his tone defensive as he attempted to brush off Sarah's teasing.

But Sarah wasn't buying it. She leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she playfully nudged Eli's shoulder. "Oh, come on, Eli," she chided gently. "You were definitely jealous. I remember how you demanded that they be back by 9 pm and threatened poor Jamie to behave himself."

Eli shifted uncomfortably under Sarah's scrutiny, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he recalled his overbearing behavior towards Jamie. "I was just looking out for her," he muttered, his voice defensive as he tried to justify his actions.

Sarah chuckled softly, shaking her head in amusement at Eli's stubbornness. "Sure you were," she teased, her tone light-hearted as she gently ribbed him. "But then you went and allowed them to stay out until 11 pm."

Eli squirmed, his discomfort evident as he tried to deflect Sarah's playful jabs. "I was being lenient," he protested weakly, his voice tinged with exasperation. "I just wanted her to have a good time."

Sarah raised an eyebrow at Eli's feeble attempt at justification, her lips quirking up into a knowing smile. "Sure, Eli," she replied teasingly, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Because nothing says 'having a good time' like your father pacing back and forth across the living room like a caged tiger."

Eli sighed in resignation, conceding defeat as he realized the futility of denying Sarah's accusations. "Fine, I was jealous," he admitted grudgingly, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "But can you blame me? She's my little girl."

Sarah's smile turned sad as she looked back at the photo, a wistful expression crossing her features. She turned to Eli, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, and said softly, "I wish you had said that to her, shown her a little love."

Eli's brow furrowed in confusion, his usual arrogance momentarily faltering as he struggled to comprehend Sarah's words. "What do you mean?" he protested, his tone defensive. "I wasn't that bad as a father. I showed her love, I'm sure of that."

But Sarah scoffed, a bitter edge creeping into her voice as she shook her head in disbelief. "Did you really?" she countered, her gaze piercing as she locked eyes with Eli. "Let's be honest, Eli. You were always a cruel and neglectful father, maybe not so much with Barkley because Barkley was always more attached to me, but you were horrible to her."

Eli opened his mouth to protest, but Sarah held up a hand to silence him, her voice firm as she continued, "You were never there for her, Eli," she said, her tone laced with bitterness and sorrow. "Do you even realize the pain you caused her?"

Eli's eyes widened in shock at Sarah's accusation, his usual arrogance crumbling in the face of her raw emotion. "What are you talking about?" he protested weakly, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

But Sarah pressed on, her words pouring forth like a floodgate opening. "Do you remember her 9th birthday, Eli?" she asked, her voice trembling with emotion. "The night you chose to stay out late, ignoring her calls and leaving her waiting anxiously for you to come home?"

Eli's brow furrowed in confusion as he struggled to recall the details of that fateful night. "I was at work," he lied, his voice faltering slightly as he tried to maintain his composure.

But Sarah saw through his facade, her eyes flashing with anger as she shook her head in disbelief. "You weren't at work, Eli," she spat, her words dripping with contempt. "You were out with her, weren't you? With that woman you were having an affair with."

Eli's jaw dropped in shock at Sarah's revelation, his mind racing as he tried to process the weight of her words. "I..." he stammered, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words to say.

But Sarah wasn't finished. "Do you know what [Your Name] did that night, Eli?" she continued, her voice trembling with rage. "She waited for you. She waited for hours, looking out the window with tears in her eyes, hoping against hope that her father would come home and celebrate her birthday with her."

Tears welled up in Eli's eyes as he listened to Sarah's heartbreaking words, the full extent of his betrayal hitting him like a ton of bricks. "I didn't know," he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sarah's expression softened slightly as she reached out to touch Eli's arm gently. "She was so sad that night, Eli," she said softly, her voice filled with sorrow. "She kept asking me if her daddy loved her, why he wasn't there when she needed him."

Eli's heart shattered into a million pieces at Sarah's words, the weight of his guilt crushing him from within. "I loved her," he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. "I just... I didn't know how to show it."

Sarah's words hung heavy in the air, casting a dark shadow over the room as Eli struggled to come to terms with the depth of his betrayal. He watched helplessly as Sarah's anger and sorrow spilled forth, her accusations piercing his heart like daggers.

"I will never forgive you for this, Eli," Sarah's voice was cold and resolute, her eyes blazing with righteous indignation. "You made her suffer, and you didn't even bother to apologize."

Eli recoiled at Sarah's words, his chest tightening with guilt and shame. He wanted to reach out, to beg for her forgiveness, but he knew he didn't deserve it. Instead, he could only watch in silence as Sarah continued to voice her pain, her words cutting him to the core.

"You pushed a cheap gift at her in the morning, as if that could make up for everything," Sarah's voice trembled with anger, her fists clenched at her sides. "And she was so happy, so grateful for even the smallest crumb of love you threw at her."

Eli felt a lump forming in his throat as he listened to Sarah's accusations, the weight of his remorse threatening to crush him beneath its suffocating embrace. "I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry, Sarah. I know I messed up, I know I hurt her. But please, please, give me a chance to make things right."

But Sarah ignored him, her gaze fixed on the stack of photos in front of her as she flipped through them with trembling hands. She refused to meet his eyes, her heart still raw with pain and betrayal.

They remained silent for what felt like an eternity, the air heavy with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. And then, just as Eli was about to speak again, he saw it: a photo nestled among the pile, a snapshot of you at twenty years old, smiling brightly as you posed with a man by your side.

Eli took the photo from Sarah's hands, his expression turning serious as he studied the image of you in your twenties, standing next to a man with a smile on your face. "I know this man," he said, his tone betraying his confusion.

Sarah scoffed at his statement. "Of course, you do, Eli. This is the man who paid for our daughter's art college."

Eli shook his head, denying Sarah's assumption. "No, that's not it. This is Lionel Shabandar, the man who bought almost all of [Your Name]'s paintings at the auction."

Sarah's anger flared as she stood up, her voice trembling with frustration. "You put your daughter's paintings up for auction?" she exclaimed, unable to contain her disbelief.

Ignoring her anger, Eli continued to stare at the photo, his mind racing with questions. "So, Shabandar knew [Your Name]?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion. "Why didn't he say anything that day? Was that why he bought the paintings?"

Eli stood up, his brow furrowed with confusion as he questioned Sarah about Lionel Shabandar's involvement in your life. "Why would Shabandar pay for [Your Name]'s college?" he demanded, his voice tinged with urgency.

But Sarah tried to steer the conversation towards the paintings Eli had put up for auction, her frustration evident in her tone. "Eli, we need to talk about the paintings you sold," she insisted, her voice tinged with exasperation.

But Eli was relentless, his mind consumed with questions about Shabandar's connection to you. "Forget about the paintings," he snapped, his impatience growing by the second. "I want to know about the damn art college."

Sarah's anger boiled over as she finally shared the truth about your involvement with Lionel Shabandar. She explained that you had participated in a contest offered by Shabandar Corporation, which offered scholarships to painters with the most beautiful paintings chosen by Lionel Shabandar himself. You were one of the three chosen, and Shabandar paid for your art college tuition.

Eli's mind raced with questions as he tried to piece together the puzzle of your life. "Did Shabandar know [Your Name]?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion. "Why didn't Shabandar say anything that day?"

Sarah attempted to steer the conversation back to the paintings Eli had put up for auction, but her phone rang, interrupting her with an angry tone. As she answered, her expression turned from anger to sadness, her voice faltering as she spoke.

Eli watched her with a furrowed brow, his mind clouded with confusion and concern. As Sarah ended the call, Eli's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by her somber words.

"We need to go to the morgue," Sarah said softly, her voice heavy with sorrow. "They found her body."

Eli's heart stopped at her words, his mind going blank with shock and pain. "W-what?" he stuttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sarah reached out to touch his arm gently, her own eyes filled with tears. "They're not completely sure yet," she explained, her voice trembling with emotion. "But there's a good chance it's her. They need us there to identify the body."

As they made their way to the morgue, Eli's mind was a whirlwind of grief and confusion. He struggled to come to terms with the possibility of your death, his thoughts consumed by memories of you and the pain of losing you.

Once they arrived, Sarah held Eli's hand tightly as they entered the morgue together. As they approached the room where your body lay, Eli's heart clenched with fear and sorrow.

"I can't do this," he whispered hoarsely.

But Sarah squeezed his hand reassuringly, her eyes filled with empathy and understanding. "We'll do this together," she said softly, her voice filled with determination. "I'll be right here with you."

But Eli tried to leave, his instincts screaming at him to run away from the unbearable reality that awaited him inside.

Leaning against the wall, feeling weak and helpless, Eli's legs shook beneath him. He felt a wave of nausea wash over him, threatening to overwhelm his senses as the weight of his grief pressed down upon him like a suffocating blanket.

But Sarah refused to let him go, her grip firm as she held onto him tightly. "You can do this, Eli," she said softly, her voice filled with determination. "We need to see her, to know for sure."

Eli shook his head in denial, his mind unable to comprehend the horror that awaited him on the other side of that door. "I can't," he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't do this."

But Sarah remained resolute, her eyes filled with sorrow as she pleaded with him to stay strong. "She was our daughter, Eli," she said softly, her voice tinged with sadness. "We owe it to her to be brave, to face this together."

Just as Eli was about to protest again, a doctor approached, interrupting their conversation with a somber expression. "Are you here to identify the body of [Your Name] Michaelson?" the doctor asked, his voice gentle yet firm.

Sarah nodded solemnly, her eyes fixed on the doctor as she confirmed their purpose for being there. "Yes, we are," she replied, her voice steady despite the tremble in her hands.

The doctor's expression softened slightly as he explained the condition of the body they were about to see. "I must warn you, the body is not in a pleasant state," he said gently, his tone filled with compassion. "It has been in the water for several days, and the effects of decomposition are quite severe."

Sarah assured the doctor that they were prepared for what they were about to see, but Eli shook his head vehemently, his stomach churning with dread. "I can't do it," he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible over the sound of his racing heartbeat.

But Sarah refused to back down, her determination unwavering as she gently urged him forward. "You can, Eli," she said softly, her voice filled with reassurance. "We'll do it together, I promise."

With trembling legs, Eli finally relented, taking a shaky step towards the door of the morgue. His mind was a whirlwind of fear and sorrow as he braced himself for the sight that awaited him on the other side.

As the doctor opened the bag containing the body, Eli's stomach lurched with revulsion. He turned away, retching violently as he struggled to contain the overwhelming surge of nausea that threatened to consume him.

Sarah held onto him tightly, her own eyes fixed on the body before them as she analyzed its features with a mixture of relief and sadness. "It's not her," she declared softly, her voice tinged with a sense of disbelief. "It's not our daughter."

The doctor looked to Sarah for confirmation, his expression filled with concern. "Are you sure?" he asked gently, his tone laced with sympathy.

Sarah nodded solemnly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she met the doctor's gaze. "Yes, I'm sure," she replied, her voice filled with conviction. "It's not [Your Name]."

Relieved yet still shaken, Eli stumbled towards the nearest trash can, his body wracked with dry heaves as he struggled to regain his composure. Sarah stood by his side, her hand resting gently on his back as she offered him what little comfort she could.

As Eli struggled to steady himself, Sarah turned to the doctor, her voice trembling with emotion. "Thank you," she said softly, her gratitude evident in her tone. "Thank you for everything."

The doctor nodded in understanding, his expression filled with compassion as he watched Sarah and Eli with a mixture of sympathy and respect. "Take all the time you need," he said gently, his voice filled with kindness. "And please, don't hesitate to reach out if you need anything."

With that, the doctor left them alone in the dimly lit room, the weight of their grief hanging heavy in the air. As Eli leaned against the trash can, his body trembling with exhaustion and relief, Sarah stood by his side, her presence a silent source of strength and support in their time of need.

Meanwhile, far away, in a secluded studio filled with the scent of turpentine and oil paints, you and Lionel Shabandar were engaged in a peculiar arrangement. You stood before an easel, brush in hand, while Lionel sat awkwardly on a stool, attempting to maintain a pose you deemed necessary for your painting.

"For the thousandth time, stay still," you instructed, your voice tinged with frustration as you tried to capture the essence of your vision on canvas.

Lionel shifted uncomfortably, his posture rigid as he struggled to comply with your demands. "This position is tiring," he complained, his voice laced with irritation.

You rolled your eyes, reminding him that he was the one who had chosen the pose in the first place. "You wanted authenticity," you retorted, your patience wearing thin. "Now, please, just hold still."

Lionel grumbled under his breath, but he made an effort to straighten his posture and lift his chin, attempting to embody the image of nobility you sought to portray. "You're the one who insisted on this," he muttered, his tone petulant.

You sighed in exasperation, your focus returning to the canvas as you continued to work on the painting. "I need a male figure for this piece," you explained, your voice calm yet resolute. "But you know I can't paint from memory alone."

Lionel looked at you quizzically, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What's missing?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

You paused, considering his question carefully before replying, "My idea for this painting is actually centered around the male body. I need a more... naked male figure."

A self-satisfied smirk crossed Lionel's lips as he realized the nature of your request. "Why didn't you say so before?" he exclaimed, his arrogance on full display.

With a roll of your eyes, you shook your head at his shamelessness. Lionel was always one to revel in any opportunity to flaunt his physique. "You're shameless," you muttered under your breath, though you knew your words would fall on deaf ears.

Ignoring your comment, Lionel proceeded to undo his belt, a confident grin spreading across his face as he began to undress. You watched him with a mixture of amusement and annoyance, wondering how someone could be so shamelessly vain.

As Lionel stripped down to his skivvies, he shot you a smug look, his chest puffed out with pride. "You should be more grateful," he scolded, his tone admonishing. "I spent a lot of money buying all those paintings at the auction."

You scoffed at his self-importance, feeling a surge of irritation rise within you. "I never asked you to do that," you retorted, your voice firm with resolve. "Our agreement was clear: I help you fake some paintings, and I'll disappear with your assistance. Now be quiet, please."

Lionel, with his usual arrogance, agrees to your request without any hesitation. "Yes, yes, yes, anything for you," he says with a smirk as he swiftly removes his underwear, leaving himself completely naked. But instead of standing still and returning to position, he strides over to you, his confidence radiating with every step. "But you forgot one thing: revenge." You don't answer, pretending to be too busy.

As he approaches, he leans in close, his hand reaching out to stroke your cheek gently. "Don't be a coward," he whispers, his voice low and commanding. "In your place, I would make Michaelson pay for everything he's done to you."

You take a step back, avoiding his touch as you pretend to check your paints. "I'm not being a coward," you reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside you. "I just don't want to think about my father. I just want to forget about him."

Setting down the easel, you turn away from Lionel, busying yourself with picking up another brush. But he follows you, his presence looming over you like a shadow.

"Lionel, this isn't about revenge," you insist, your tone firm as you try to maintain your composure. "It's about moving on, letting go of the past."

But Lionel ignored you, hugging you from behind and kissing the back of your neck. You felt a little tense, feeling uncomfortable with the intimacy of the gesture. “Lionel,” you murmured softly, trying to gently push him away.

Lionel ignored your attempts to distance yourself, his arms tightening around you as he leaned in closer. "I know I'm the same age as your father, but I don't want you to see me as a father figure," he whispered, his voice low and insistent. "Definitely not."

You sighed softly, feeling conflicted by Lionel's words. "I don't see you like that," you replied, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "It's... it's far from that, actually."

Lionel looked at you with confusion, his brow furrowing as he questioned your denial. "Then why do you deny me so much?" he asked, his tone tinged with frustration.

You looked away, avoiding his gaze as you struggled to find the right words to explain yourself. But Lionel wasn't having it. He reached out and gently grasped your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"The man who hurt you is a bastard," Lionel declared, his voice filled with righteous anger. "If you would just give me a description of the bastard, I swear I would pay men to find and kill him."

You shook your head, refusing to entertain the idea of seeking revenge. "I don't want to think about that man," you whispered hoarsely, your voice thick with emotion.

Lionel sighed in resignation, releasing his grip on your chin as he let you go. "One way or another, you'll have to face your fears," he said softly, his voice tinged with sadness.

With a heavy heart, Lionel let go of the stool and sat down again, resuming his pose completely naked as you turned back to the canvas, trying to focus on your painting.

Suddenly, Lionel mumbled loudly, "I miss London."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his abrupt change in topic. "You were definitely not a British gentleman," you joked, teasing him lightly.

Lionel scoffed at your remark, his pride wounded by the implication. "That's a slur," he protested, his voice indignant. "I'm a Lord, for god's sake."

You rolled your eyes at his arrogance, unable to resist poking fun at his inflated sense of self-importance. "If you say so," you replied dryly, arching an eyebrow at him. "But you certainly don't act like one."

Lionel was irritated by your comment, his ego hurt by your mockery. He remained silent in his position, his expression turning sour as he stewed in your words. But you couldn't resist poking fun at him further, continuing to provoke him with your teasing.

"Are you sure you're not related to my father?" you quipped, unable to resist the urge to push his buttons. "You two look quite alike, with that hooked nose and arrogance."

Lionel scoffed at your remark, his pride wounded by the comparison to your father. "Please," he retorted with a smirk, "if I were related to Michaelson, I wouldn't be caught dead associating with you."

You laughed at his attempt to brush off the comparison, finding amusement in his defensiveness. "So, you admit it," you teased, your voice laced with amusement. "You're no Targaryen, then?"

Lionel rolled his eyes at your playful jab, his irritation evident in his tone. "Hardly," he replied dryly, his arrogance undiminished by your mockery. "I have standards, you know"

You chuckled at his snarky remark, shaking your head in amusement at his stubborn refusal to acknowledge any similarities between himself and your father. "Sure you do," you replied with a grin, unable to resist needling him further. "But I think I prefer you without the dragon blood."

Lionel's lips twitched with amusement at your playful banter, his irritation momentarily forgotten as he indulged in the lighthearted exchange. "Perhaps you're right," he conceded with a chuckle, his tone softening slightly as he met your gaze. "After all, who needs dragons when you have me?"

You laughed at his self-assured quip, feeling a sense of camaraderie with him despite his arrogance and vanity. "Indeed," you replied with a grin, unable to suppress the warmth in your heart at his playful charm. "Who needs dragons when you have Lionel Shabandar?"

#eli michaelson #alan rickman #nobel son #sarah michaelson #barkley michaelson #eli michaelson x reader #alan rickman x reader #daughter reader #lionel shabandar x reader #lionel shabandar

[starry-eyesanddaydreams]

Prompt 12 of @deepperplexity 's Rickmas 2023

December 12: Giver of Gifts

Lionel Shabandar x Reader

Lionel likes so to shower his partner with expensive gifts, but some out of line gossip makes his partner self-conscious.

(Again, taking a chance with something new and an underrated character)

___________________________________________________________

Lionel Shabandar was a man with a reputation for being an ice-cold bastard. But you knew a different side to him. You’d met at the art gallery where you worked. He’d seen you leading a tour group and couldn’t help but listen in as you stopped in front of Monet’s “The Thames below Westminster”, curious at what you would say about it. The way you talked with gentle passion about the artists use of light and subdued colour was entrancing to him and he’d approached you after the tour, wanting to hear more. An invitation to drinks had lead to dating and you’d made your relationship public by being his partner at a gala a few weeks ago. Lionel was many things, and as cold and calculating he could be as a businessman, with you he was affectionate, romantic, someone who loved to share his interests and passions and was eager to learn yours. He was also a lavish giver of gifts. Which lead you to here, sitting on the couch in your apartment on a December evening, while he fastened the most exquisite diamond necklace you’d ever seen around your neck. “Leo, you know you don’t have to buy me things like this, right?” You said, feeling a bit overwhelmed and awkward, “I love them, really. But you’re always so extravagant. You don’t need to be.” “I know, Darling. I like doing it, though.” You silently ran your fingers along the pearl drop pendant, looking at nothing.   Lionel brushed his hand along your arm, “What’s wrong?” He asked, “Something’s troubling you.” “It’s nothing.” You shrugged off his concern, getting up off the couch and heading to the kitchen “I was making some coffee, do you want some?”

Lionel followed you into the kitchen. Something was clearly weighing on your mind, and he hated seeing you so subdued. As you filled the coffee machine, some colourful paper sticking up out of the paper bin caught his attention. It was a copy of the Sun, with a picture of the two of you, taken at a Gala you’d recently attended. Along with the picture was the headline, “Billionaires new arm candy” and a short text making allusions about your relationship around his money and your looks. You turned around, saw him holding the paper and froze. “I thought you hated this trash rag?” he said, dropping it back in the bin, “Is that article what’s upsetting you?” You didn’t answer, but Lionel could see the tears welling up in your eyes and you quickly rubbed your eyes to try and hide them, focusing back on taking some cups from the cupboard. Lionel stepped up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, spoon hugging you against him. Your body automatically started to relax when you were pressed against him, he’d had that effect on you from the start. After a moment, you started talking quietly, “Someone at the gallery, fortunately not someone I work closely with, came up to me today and showed me that paper. They said I got a sweet deal, landing you as a Sugar Daddy. I just…It hurt and it made me mad to see people think our relationship is so shallow.” Lionel turned you in his arms to see your face, “I’m sorry, Darling. Really, those noxious trolls will make up what they want to see no matter what we do. But they’re just hollow words from useless gossip peddlers. They don't know anything." You took a breath, “I know. It also just made me feel self-conscious. I mean, you took me to lunch the other day and ended up taking me shopping at Bond Street. You don’t have to do things like that. I love you without all the trimmings.” Lionel smiled softly and held you a little closer, “You know, I think you’re the only person in my life who actually likes me for me. One of the things I love about you. You really don’t care about my money or name. You met a sour old man with an art obsession and decided to give him your heart. I can’t pretend to know why. That’s why I like spoiling you. Why I want to give you everything you deserve. You’re my Lioness, my queen, and you deserve to be treated like one.” Feeling tears prick your eyes again, you pressed your face against his chest, “You make it really hard to be critical when you say things like that.” Your voice was muffled by his shirt. “You live a very different life from the one I’m used to. But, honestly I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it.” You felt him chuckle and his arms wrap around you more fully. You stayed like that for a while before he gently tilted your face up with his hand. He trailed kisses down from your forehead to your lips before leaning back and saying, “Hang the world and their opinions. Come on, Darling, let’s go out.” You smiled up at him, leaning up for one more kiss before heading to your bedroom to get dressed. Lionel grinned as he watched you hurry to the other room. He hadn’t thought falling in love like this was on the cards for him. But loving you was just so easy. You made him happy in a way he’d never known before, and he wanted to do anything he could for you. Anything you would let him do. And he kept a secret hope in the back of his mind, if all went well, he’d be your fiancé by next Christmas.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

#rickmas 2023 #rickmas2023 #Day 12 #alan rickman #Gambit #Lionel Shabandar #Lionel Shabandar x reader

[muiitoloko]

me waiting for the day you write Lionel Shabandar

Guess what? You won't be twiddling your thumbs in anticipation because I've already whipped up a little somethin' somethin' for Lionel in his drafts! 📝😎 I'm thinking about posting it as soon as "Chess Game" has at least 20 likes, which I think will happen soon as it already has 9 likes.

#requests #lionel shabandar #alan rickman #lionel shabandar x reader

[muiitoloko]

you know those fancy offices that have open top gardens / workspaces on top of the building?

Lionel’s office building definitely has one of those

imagine giving Lionel a blowie when you’re alone on the rooftop and he can look out at the city but all he wants to look at is you with his cock in your mouth 😌

that is all I have to say thank you and goodnight

Oh, you've just sparked a whole fireworks display of ideas in my mind! Thanks for the inspiration, I'm definitely going to have fun writing something like that.

Although my energies are focused on an Eli one-shot that I'm finishing writing... 😉 Goodnight!

#response #lionel shabandar x reader #eli michaelson #alan rickman

[muiitoloko]

Trust

Summary: You need to learn to trust Lionel because distrust is destroying you both.

Pairing: Lionel Shahbandar × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, anger, Insecurity, jealousy, accusation, arguing and mention of cheating.

Author's Note: This story has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and I debated whether or not to share it. Truth be told, I'm not entirely satisfied with it, but I've decided to post it anyway. I'm eager to hear your feedback, so please feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments. My aim was to depict a realistic relationship with genuine challenges in this narrative.

Second part here.

As Lionel sits down on the bed, his baritone voice carries a tone of frustration and exhaustion. "For the thousandth time, I wasn't flirting with anyone at the party," he insists, his words tinged with exasperation. "I was simply being polite, as any host would be."

You stand your ground, your voice rising in defiance. "Polite? It didn't look like mere politeness to me," you retort, your words laced with accusation. "You were leaning in too close, laughing too freely. I saw the way she looked at you, Lionel."

His hooked nose seems to accentuate his furrowed brow as he responds, "You're reading too much into it. You know how I am in social situations—I talk to everyone." But his attempt to placate you only seems to stoke the flames of your distrust.

"Why should I believe you?" you fire back, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. "You had a reputation before we were married, Lionel. You were a womanizer."

Lionel's expression darkens, a shadow crossing his features. "That's in the past," he insists, his voice tinged with frustration. "I've changed, for you."

But your insecurities refuse to be assuaged. "Have you, though?" you challenge, your voice heavy with doubt. "Or are you just hiding it better?"

Lionel's patience wears thin, his frustration boiling over. "Why are you like this?" he demands, his voice rising to match yours. "Why do you distrust me so much? I've given you no reason to!"

He abruptly rises from the bed, his movements brisk and determined. Ignoring your bewildered expression, he strides to the wardrobe with purpose, his hands swiftly grabbing a backpack from within. You watch, a mix of confusion and disbelief coloring your features, as he begins to hastily stuff clothes into the bag.

"What the hell are you doing, Lionel?" you demand, your voice wavering with a mix of anger and concern as you step closer, trying to comprehend his sudden actions.

Lionel's shoulders tense, his jaw clenching as he refuses to meet your gaze. "I'm leaving," he states firmly, his voice laced with frustration.

"You're leaving?" you seethe, your voice shaking with anger. "Fine! Leave! I don't need you here anyway!"

Lionel continues packing his clothes, his movements brisk and determined. "I can't take this anymore," he mutters, his voice strained. "I won't stay in a marriage filled with constant fighting and no intimacy."

Your blood boils at his words, and you hurl your wedding ring at him, the metal clinking against the wardrobe. "Take it! Take your damn ring!" you scream, tears of frustration and hurt welling in your eyes.

But Lionel pays no attention to the ring, his focus solely on packing his belongings. "I'm done," he declares, zipping up his backpack with finality.

As he turns to leave, you lash out in a fit of anger, your words dripping with venom. "Go! Find someone else to satisfy your desires!" you spit, your voice laced with disdain. "I'll find the first idiot willing to fulfill my needs too!"

Lionel freezes in his tracks, his eyes flashing with jealousy and hurt. "What did you just say?" he growls, his tone sharp with accusation.

You smirk, the nightgown clinging to your curves as you sit on the bed. "Oh, is someone feeling jealous now?" you taunt, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, too little, too late, Lionel."

He clenches his jaw, his gaze burning with intensity. "How dare you even suggest such a thing?" he seethes, his fists balling at his sides.

You meet his gaze head-on, a defiant glint in your eyes. "Maybe if you showed me a fraction of the attention you give to your precious art collection, we wouldn't be in this mess," you retort, your voice cutting like a knife.

Lionel's nostrils flare angrily as he interrupts you mid-sentence. "Wants to know? I don't care what you do or don't do anymore," he retorts, his voice dripping with frustration and resignation. "I'm tired of this endless cycle of distrust and..." Before he can finish his sentence, you lean back slightly, spreading your legs to reveal your core, devoid of panties. It's a deliberate move, a calculated play to regain control of the situation.

"You Know, that's what you would've gotten tonight if you hadn't been so naughty, flirting with other women," you purr, your voice laced with a mixture of seduction and reprimand.

Lionel's gaze settles on your exposed flesh, his eyes widening in desire and disbelief. The backpack falls to the floor with a thud, forgotten in his distraction, his movements almost mechanical as he falls to his knees, crawling towards her like a man possessed, his baritone voice reduced to a desperate whisper.

"Please... let me taste you," he begs, his voice thick with longing. "I need to feel you, to make things right."

But you're not so easily swayed. As he inches closer, you extend a foot, pressing it firmly against his shoulder to hold him back. Lionel's desperation intensifies, his eyes pleading with you as he begs for release.

"I swear, I haven't flirted with anyone," he murmurs, his baritone voice carrying a sincerity that resonates within you. "You're the only one I want, the only one I've ever wanted."

Your resolve wavers at the sincerity in his gaze, but you push back, still hurt and distrustful. "Prove it then," you demand, your voice tinged with a mix of longing and defiance. "Apologize for your behavior at the party. Recognize your mistake, Lionel."

But instead of acquiescing, Lionel's frustration flares anew, his pride refusing to bend to what he perceives as an unjust accusation. "I won't apologize for something I didn't do," he asserts, his voice laced with indignation.

In a sudden burst of determination, he grabs your ankle, the touch sending a shiver down your spine as he pulls you closer. Before you can react, he secures your other leg, keeping you open and vulnerable to his advances.

You try to protest, to resist his advances, but Lionel's grip is firm, his lips trailing kisses down your thighs, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume your senses. Your moans escape your lips involuntarily, each touch of his lips against your skin driving you to the brink of madness.

"Stop... we can't," you manage to gasp between ragged breaths, your attempts to close your legs proving futile against Lionel's determined hold. But even as you protest, your hands find their way into his hair, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer.

As Lionel's lips trail a path of fiery kisses up your inner thighs, his baritone voice resonates with a husky tone of desire, sending shivers down your spine. "You taste even sweeter than I remembered," he murmurs, his words laced with raw hunger.

Your breath catches in your throat as Lionel's hooked nose brushes against your sensitive flesh, his warm breath sending a rush of anticipation coursing through your veins. With each passing moment, the tension between you builds, igniting a primal need that threatens to consume you both.

With a hunger that matches yours, Lionel's lips capture your lower lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deeper to taste every inch of your essence. His fingers weave into his hair, pulling him closer as you surrender to the intoxicating ecstasy of his touch.

As he explores every curve and contour of your body, Lionel's hands roam freely, igniting flames of desire wherever they touch. His touch is both tender and demanding, a potent combination that leaves you gasping for breath and begging for more.

As you recline further on the bed, surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure that Lionel's skilled tongue evokes, a pang of jealousy and insecurity grips your heart. Despite the ecstasy coursing through your veins, the image of your husband, Lionel, bestowing the same intimate attention on other women floods your mind, igniting a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

A moan escapes your lips, but it's tainted with a hint of bitterness as you imagine Lionel's hooked nose brushing against another woman's delicate skin, his baritone voice murmuring words of desire that aren't meant for you alone. The thought sends a surge of possessiveness coursing through you, driving you to cling to him tighter, as if to assert your dominance over any potential rivals.

But even as Lionel's skilled ministrations push you to the brink of ecstasy, the insecurity gnaws at the corners of your mind, whispering doubts that refuse to be silenced. You wonder how many women have experienced this same intoxicating pleasure at his hands, how many have moaned his name in ecstasy, oblivious to the existence of a jealous wife waiting at home.

Summoning every ounce of strength within you, you push against Lionel's shoulders, trying to put some distance between you. "Stop, Lionel," you gasp, your voice trembling with a mix of desire and fear. "I can't do this anymore."

Lionel freezes, confusion flickering in his eyes as he looks at you, his chin stained with your essence. With a gentle touch, he wipes the remnants of your passion from his skin, his gaze searching yours for answers.

"What's wrong, my love?" he questions, his voice tinged with concern. "Am I not pleasing you?"

You avert your gaze, feeling a wave of sadness wash over you as you struggle to articulate the turmoil raging within. "It's not that, Lionel," you murmur, your voice heavy with regret. "I just... I can't keep living like this."

Lionel's brows furrow in confusion, his concern deepening as he reaches out to caress your cheek, his touch tender and reassuring. "Tell me, my dear," he implores, his voice soft with compassion. "What's troubling you?"

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you meet Lionel's gaze, the weight of your insecurities bearing down on you like a crushing weight. "I can't shake the feeling that you're out there, flirting with other women," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm afraid of losing you."

Lionel's expression softens, his heart aching at the pain reflected in your eyes. "My love, you must believe me," he pleads, his voice tinged with frustration and desperation. "I would never betray you. You're the only one I desire, the only one I've ever desired."

But before Lionel can offer further reassurance, you interrupt him, your words laced with resignation. "Maybe we should just get a divorce," you suggest, your voice trembling with uncertainty. "It's clear that I can't trust you, Lionel."

The mere suggestion sends a shockwave of disbelief coursing through Lionel, his features contorted with anger and defiance. "No!" he protests vehemently, his voice thundering through the room. "I won't accept it."

Your own anger flares in response, fueled by Lionel's refusal to acknowledge your pain. "And why not?" you demand, your voice rising to match his. "Weren't you about to leave just a few minutes ago?"

Lionel's jaw clenches, his frustration evident as he struggles to contain his emotions. "I was bluffing," he admits begrudgingly, his tone laced with resignation. "But it's obvious, isn't it? I would never leave you. I love you too much for that."

But despite his declaration of love, doubt still lingers in your heart, threatening to tear you apart. "I just want to trust you, Lionel," you whisper, your voice breaking as tears stream down your cheeks. "I want to believe that you're not like my ex-boyfriend."

Lionel growls, his baritone voice laced with disdain as he cuts you off mid-sentence. "Don't you dare even mention that damn idiot ex-boyfriend of yours," he asserts, his hooked nose accentuating his scowl. "I am nothing like him, and I won't stand for being compared to such a fool."

His words carry a weight of frustration and indignation, his pride wounded by the mere suggestion of resemblance to someone so beneath him in stature. With a determined stride, Lionel approaches you, his gaze piercing as he seeks to dispel any lingering doubts.

"I am not like him," he repeats, his voice firm and unwavering. "I am Lord Lionel Shahbandar, a man of wealth, sophistication, and impeccable taste. I would never stoop to the level of a petty, insecure fool like your ex-boyfriend."

His words ring with conviction, his confidence unwavering as he stands before you, a beacon of strength and reassurance in the midst of uncertainty. With a gentle touch, he lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze, his eyes ablaze with intensity.

"You are mine, and I am yours," he declares, his voice softening with sincerity. "Please trust me."

"Lionel," you whisper, your voice barely audible above the tumult of emotions raging within you. "I want to trust you, I really do."

His gaze softens, a glimmer of hope igniting in his eyes as he listens intently to your words. "Then tell me, my love," he implores, his voice tender and reassuring. "What can I do to earn your trust? I'll do anything, I swear."

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, the weight of your doubts and insecurities pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. "I need... I need you to be patient with me," you murmur, your voice trembling with vulnerability. "I need you to understand that this mistrust is tearing me apart."

Lionel's expression softens further, his heart aching at the pain reflected in your eyes. "I understand, my dear," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "I promise to be patient, to show you again and again that you're the only one I desire."

Tears blur your vision as you reach out, clasping his hands tightly in yours. "I'm sorry, Lionel," you whisper, your voice choked with emotion. "I'll try... I'll try to trust you again."

A tender smile graces Lionel's lips as he leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your hands. "That's all I ask," he murmurs, his voice filled with gratitude and relief. "I love you, more than anything in this world."

As Lionel's lips brush against your skin, you feel a sense of peace wash over you, a glimmer of hope flickering in the darkness of your doubts. With each passing moment, the weight of your insecurities begins to lift, replaced by the warmth of Lionel's unwavering love and devotion.

But as you bask in the glow of reconciliation, a sudden realization strikes you like a bolt of lightning. Your gaze falls to your hand, where the absence of a ring serves as a stark reminder of the rift that nearly tore you apart.

Lionel's eyes follow yours, his expression turning somber as he notices the discarded wedding ring lying forgotten on the floor. Without a word, he stoops down, retrieving the ring with careful reverence, his movements deliberate and purposeful.

You watch in silence as Lionel kneels before you, his gaze unwavering as he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your finger. With steady hands, he slides the wedding ring back onto your finger, where it belongs, a symbol of the love and commitment that binds you together.

As the metal glints in the soft light of the room, you feel a surge of emotion welling within you, overwhelming in its intensity. Tears stream down your cheeks as you gaze into Lionel's eyes, the depth of his love reflected in their depths.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry for doubting you, for letting my insecurities drive us apart."

Lionel's eyes soften, his fingers tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand. "There's no need to apologize, my dear," he murmurs, his voice filled with tenderness. "We all have our moments of weakness. What matters is that we're together, that we're stronger than ever."

With a gentle touch, he lifts your chin, his lips capturing yours in a lingering kiss filled with promise and devotion. In that moment, you know that no matter what challenges may lie ahead, you'll face them together, bound by a love that's as enduring as it is unbreakable.

#lionel shabandar #gambit 2012 #lionel shabandar x reader #alan rickman x reader #alan rickman

[muiitoloko]

Title: Not early riser

Summary: Alan Rickman reluctantly rises for an early day of filming "Gambit".

Warning: none

Pairing: Alan Rickman × fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.376

Alan grumbled, burying his head further into the pillow as You persistently tried to wake him. The warmth of the bed and the enticing allure of continued sleep were strong temptations for the seasoned actor, who was never one to embrace early mornings.

"You, darling, need to get up," You urged, your voice a gentle yet insistent melody.

Alan's baritone voice mumbled a protest. "Can't a man enjoy a bit more beauty sleep? I'm not as young as I used to be, you know."

But You, undeterred, reminded him of the impending obligations. "You have filming today, Al. 'Gambit' won't wait, and you wouldn't want to keep the entire crew waiting, would you?"

Alan grumbled more, a playful frown forming on his face. "They can wait a bit. It's not like the world will end if Severus Snape is fashionably late."

You chuckled, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on Alan's forehead. "You're not Severus Snape today, darling. You're Lionel Shabandar, and Lionel needs to meet the world on time."

With a theatrical sigh, Alan finally relented, albeit with a hint of drama. "Fine, fine. But I reserve the right to complain about the early hour throughout the day."

As Alan begrudgingly got out of bed, You couldn't help but admire the charm that accompanied your husband's theatrical grumbling. His voice, even in the midst of sleepy protests, carried a certain allure that had initially captivated you—a charm that extended beyond the silver screen.

While Alan prepared for his day of filming, You continued to play the role of the persistent motivator, making sure he had everything he needed and gently encouraging him to embrace the day ahead.

In the kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. Alan, now a bit more awake, couldn't resist the tempting scent. As he sipped his coffee, You seized the opportunity to remind him of the excitement surrounding the movie.

"Gambit" was a project Alan had eagerly taken on, bringing his seasoned talent to the big screen once again. The storyline, the cast, and the anticipation of fans added a spark of enthusiasm to the morning routine.

As Alan finished his coffee, he couldn't help but appreciate your role not just as a motivator but as the steady force behind the scenes. Your support was a grounding influence in the whirlwind of his acting career.

With a sigh and a final adjustment to his tie, Alan was ready to face the day. You, proud of your husband's commitment, walked him to the door, offering a goodbye kiss with a hint of playfulness.

"Make Severus Snape proud, my love," you teased.

Alan, adopting a theatrical tone, replied, "Always, my dear. After all, he's just a bit more reluctant to admit it."

As Alan left for the set of "Gambit," you couldn't help but smile at the man who effortlessly brought characters to life both on and off the screen. In the quiet moments that followed, you took a moment to reflect on the unique blend of charm, talent, and love that defined your life with Alan Rickman.

Hours later, Alan returned home, the day's exhaustion evident on his face. The enticing aroma of a freshly baked pie greeted him as he entered the house. You, noticing his hunger, knew exactly what he needed.

As Alan made a beeline for the kitchen, his eyes fixated on the cooling pie on the counter. The idea of indulging in a warm, delicious slice crossed his mind. However, before he could make a move, You intercepted, hands on your hips, a playful warning in your eyes.

"Don't even think about it, Mr. Rickman," you declared, your tone firm yet teasing. "It's hot, and you need to wait."

Alan, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, complained about his hunger. "But, my love, I'm starving. That pie is calling my name."

You, unyielding, raised an eyebrow. "Did you not have lunch at the studio?"

Alan chuckled, knowing he was caught in the act. "Well, you know how it is on set. I like to let everyone eat first. Besides, I was saving room for your delicious creations."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "You're impossible, Al. A little patience won't hurt you. Now, I made some sandwiches for you. Eat those, and the pie will be all yours once it cools down."

Alan made a theatrical pout, crossing his arms. "You're an evil woman, denying me the pleasure of diving into that heavenly pie right away."

You couldn't help but laugh at his dramatics. "Evil or not, you'll thank me when you savor every bite of that pie without burning your tongue. Now, eat your sandwiches, my hungry actor."

Alan, still grumbling but with a twinkle in his eyes, conceded and reached for the sandwiches. As he savored the homemade goodness, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. The little everyday moments, whether it was waking him up for a film shoot or teasing him about pies, added a touch of magic to your lives.

In between bites, Alan mumbled, "You're a genius in the kitchen, my love. But I still think you're a bit evil for making me wait."

You chuckled, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Consider it a test of your patience, dear. Now, enjoy those sandwiches. The pie will be worth the wait."

As you shared a quiet moment in the kitchen, the warmth of your love and the aroma of good food filled the air, creating a simple yet perfect scene in the story of Alan and You.

Alan savored the sandwiches you prepared, his hunger gradually subsiding. As he indulged in the homemade goodness, you picked up a fresh apple and started slicing it with careful precision. Aware of your husband's penchant for hearty meals, you couldn't resist teasing him about the day's filming.

"So, how was the scene today?" You asked with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

Alan, taking a bite of his sandwich, chuckled. "Oh, the usual. Today, they had me filming a scene where I had to be, well, let's say, in my birthday suit."

You raised an eyebrow, your eyes widening in playful disbelief. "Naked? You, my dear heartthrob husband, were naked on set?"

Alan nodded, a smirk playing on his lips. "Indeed, I was. It's all part of the job, you know."

You laughed, imagining the reactions of those on set. "I can just picture it. Some ladies must have fainted at the sight of Alan Rickman in the buff. The heartthrob strikes again!"

Alan snorted, still not entirely convinced of his heartthrob status. "I highly doubt that, but it did add an interesting twist to the day. At least, I hope it won't end up on the cutting room floor."

You, handing him a neatly sliced apple, winked. "Well, if it does, at least you'll have a few fans swooning over your daring performance. Who knew Severus Snape had such exhibitionist tendencies?"

Alan chuckled, taking a bite of the apple. "Severus would probably disapprove, but Lionel Shabandar might secretly enjoy the attention."

As you bantered about the day's filming, Alan couldn't help but appreciate the lightness that he brought into your lives. Even in the midst of a busy acting career, he found a way to embrace humor and playfulness.

"So, how's my heartthrob feeling now?" You teased, leaning in to steal a quick kiss.

Alan, a twinkle in his eyes, replied, "Well, a bit exposed, but nothing I can't handle. Now, let's change the subject before you start imagining me in every movie scene in the buff."

You both laughed, enjoying the camaraderie that came so effortlessly in your relationship. The aroma of the tempting pie lingered in the air, a promise of sweetness to end the day.

As you continued to chat about the mundane and the extraordinary, Alan couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the person who added flavor to his life, both in the kitchen and beyond.

"By the way," Alan began, finishing the last slice of apple, "that pie has been taunting me since I got home. Any chance it's ready for consumption?"

You grinned, your eyes sparkling. "You've earned it, Mr. Heartthrob. Let's see if the pie lives up to your expectations."

#alan rickman #severus snape #lionel shabandar #gambit 2012 #alan rickman x reader #reader #hollywood #actor

[muiitoloko]

New beginning

Summary: It's a new beginning.

Pairing: Judge Turpin × Fem! Reader

Warning: Illness.

Author's Notes: Is it wrong that I'm sad this story is ending? I think I got more attached to this story than I should have. 😅

First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth and Sixth part here.

As the days turned into months and then years, William grew up quickly, his laughter filling the halls of your grand mansion. You marveled at how time seemed to fly by, cherishing every moment spent watching your son grow and thrive.

But as William grew, so did your family. Soon, you found yourself pregnant again, the news of twins filling you with both excitement and trepidation. Turpin, though initially taken aback by the prospect of expanding your family, soon embraced the idea with his usual stoic resolve.

Months passed, and eventually, the day arrived when you welcomed your twin babies into the world. Turpin stood by your side, his expression a mixture of awe and apprehension as he witnessed the miracle of birth once again. Despite his typically stern demeanor, his heart melted at the sight of his newborn children, and he vowed to protect and cherish them with all his being.

As the years went by, Turpin's health began to decline, his once formidable strength weakened by illness. Forced to retire from his prestigious position as a judge, Turpin struggled to come to terms with his newfound vulnerability. You, ever the devoted wife, remained by his side, offering comfort and support as he navigated this challenging chapter of his life.

With Turpin's health deteriorating, you made the difficult decision to leave London behind and move to the farm you had always dreamed of. Turpin, though initially resistant to the idea, eventually acquiesced, recognizing the benefits of the fresh air and tranquility for his recovery.

The transition to farm life was not without its challenges, but together, you and Turpin faced them head-on, drawing strength from each other and the love that bound your family together. Turpin, though laid up since his illness, found solace in the simple pleasures of country living, while you reveled in the opportunity to nurture your growing family in the serene countryside.

As the years passed, the farm became a sanctuary for your family, a place where Turpin could find peace amidst the turmoil of his declining health. Surrounded by the beauty of nature and the love of his family, Turpin rediscovered a sense of purpose and contentment that he had long thought lost.

Though Turpin's illness presented its share of challenges, it also brought you closer together as a family, strengthening the bonds that held you all together. As you watched your children grow and thrive in the idyllic countryside, you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the life you had built together, far away from the hustle and bustle of city life.

As the afternoon sun cast its golden rays over the sprawling fields surrounding your farm, you and Turpin sat together on a sturdy wooden chair placed in the entrance of your cozy farmhouse. The gentle breeze carried the sound of laughter and playful shouts from your children, William, Sophia, and Belladonna, who were engrossed in a game of tag in the yard.

Turpin, his once formidable frame now softened by age and illness, leaned back in his chair, a faint smile gracing his lips as he watched his children at play. His hooked nose and baritone voice still commanded authority, but there was a warmth in his gaze as he observed their antics.

His recently acquired cane rested on the arm of his chair, a symbol of his newfound reliance on assistance. Yet, despite his physical limitations, Turpin radiated a sense of contentment and pride as he basked in the joy of fatherhood.

You, seated beside him, couldn't help but smile as you watched the scene unfold before you. William, now a strapping young lad of ten, took on the role of protector, keeping a watchful eye on his younger sisters as they darted around the yard with reckless abandon.

But it was Sophia and Belladonna, aged seven, who truly stole the show. With their wild curls bouncing in the breeze and laughter bubbling from their lips, they embodied the innocence and exuberance of youth.

Suddenly, Sophia and Belladonna broke away from their game, sprinting towards you and Turpin with reckless abandon. "Father! Father!" they exclaimed in unison, their voices echoing with excitement.

You couldn't help but scold the girls gently for their lack of decorum, reminding them to behave like proper young ladies. Turpin, however, merely chuckled indulgently, his stern gaze softening as he watched his daughters clamor for his attention.

"Sophia, Belladonna, mind your manners," you chided gently, though there was a fondness in your tone. "You mustn't pester your father so."

Turpin's smile widened as he reached out to ruffle Sophia's hair affectionately, his touch gentle despite the playful glint in his eyes. "Indeed, my dears," he added with mock severity. "You must learn to comport yourselves with the dignity befitting young ladies of your station."

But the girls paid his admonishments no heed, too caught up in the excitement of the moment to care about propriety. They threw themselves at Turpin with abandon, their laughter filling the air as they clamored for his attention.

Turpin, unable to resist their infectious energy, wrapped his arms around his daughters, pulling them close in a tight embrace. "Very well, my little rascals," he conceded with a chuckle. "But remember, you mustn't forget your manners in the future."

You shook your head in amusement, unable to suppress a smile at the sight of Turpin indulging his daughters' antics. Despite his stern demeanor, there was a tenderness in his interactions with them that spoke volumes about the depth of his love for his children.

"Richard, are you alright?" you asked, your voice filled with worry as you gently supported him.

In that moment, surrounded by the ones you loved most in the world, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the life you had built together. As the laughter of your children echoed through the evening air, Turpin suddenly doubled over, a violent coughing fit seizing him. Concern etched across your features, you quickly rose from your seat and moved to his side.

Turpin waved off your concern with a dismissive gesture, though his coughs continued to wrack his frail frame. "I'm fine," he rasped between coughs, his baritone voice strained with effort, "just a minor inconvenience."

But you knew better than to ignore the signs of his declining health. With a firm hand, you helped him to his feet, guiding him back towards the house with gentle insistence.

"Let's get you back to the bedroom," you said firmly, your tone brooking no argument, "you need to rest."

Surprisingly, Turpin didn't protest, instead grasping his cane tightly as he leaned on you for support. Together, you made your way back into the house, calling out to the children as you passed through the doorway.

"William, Sophia, Belladonna," you called out, your voice carrying through the halls, "time to wash up for dinner."

The children, obedient as always, responded promptly, their footsteps echoing as they made their way inside. As they passed Turpin, who was already halfway up the stairs, he couldn't help but scold them for their reckless behavior.

"Mind your manners on the stairs, children," he admonished sternly, though the trio paid his warnings little heed as they dashed past him, eager to wash up before dinner.

Turpin sighed wearily as you reached his side, helping him up the stairs with careful steps. Once in the bedroom, you assisted him in laying down on the bed, his coughs gradually subsiding as he settled into a more comfortable position.

Watching him closely, you began to undress him, your hands moving with practiced ease as you removed his formal attire. Turpin watched you silently, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes.

"You're still so young," he commented softly, his voice tinged with regret, "you shouldn't have to take care of an old man like me."

You didn't respond to his words, instead focusing on the task at hand as you dressed him in comfortable clothes. With gentle hands, you tucked him in, ensuring he was warm and comfortable before turning to leave the room.

But Turpin's sudden grip on your wrist stopped you in your tracks. Startled, you met his gaze, only to find his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and resolve.

"Do you remember the sentence I gave you years ago?" he whispered, his voice barely above a hoarse murmur.

You nodded slowly, the memory of his possessive decree resurfacing with painful clarity. "Yes," you replied softly, your heart heavy with the weight of his words, "I remember."

Turpin's nose twitched slightly as he studied your face, his expression pained. "Forget that sentence," he said abruptly, surprising you with the suddenness of his request.

Confusion clouded your features as you looked at him, searching his eyes for any hint of deception. "What?" you asked incredulously, unable to comprehend his sudden change of heart.

"You are still young," Turpin continued, his voice trembling with emotion, "you deserve a man who will take care of you, who will love you as I never could."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his words, a mixture of sadness and disbelief washing over you. Turpin had always been possessive, demanding your unwavering loyalty with cruel insistence. And yet, here he was, urging you to forget his decree, to seek happiness beyond the confines of your marriage.

"You're crazy," you whispered hoarsely, your voice thick with emotion, "if you think I'll ever look for another man."

Turpin reached out to brush away your tears, his touch surprisingly gentle against your skin. "You deserve to live, to find happiness," he insisted, his own eyes shining with unshed tears, "even if it's not with me."

But you shook your head, unable to accept his words, unable to fathom a life without him by your side. "Shut up," you whispered brokenly, your voice barely above a whisper, "Just shut up."

For the first time in your life, you defied Turpin's orders, your heart rebelling against the notion of a future without him. Despite his cruelty, despite his flaws, you loved him with a fierceness that defied reason, that defied logic.

Turpin's expression softened momentarily, his gaze filled with a mixture of frustration and sorrow. "You silly, stupid woman," he muttered under his breath, his baritone voice tinged with anguish.

You looked away, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze, the weight of his words heavy on your heart. With a trembling hand, you attempted to pull away from him, to distance yourself from the pain of his rejection.

But Turpin refused to let you go, his grip on your wrist tightening with unexpected strength. "No," he said firmly, his voice commanding despite its tremulous quality, "You will listen to me, damn it!"

Startled by the sudden change in his demeanor, you turned back to face him, your eyes wide with surprise. Turpin's hooked nose twitched slightly as he studied your face, his expression torn between anger and desperation.

"I may be cruel, I may be a monster," he began, his voice barely above a hoarse whisper, "but I cannot bear the thought of you suffering because of me."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his words, the raw emotion in his voice cutting through the layers of resentment and anger that had built up between you. Despite his flaws, despite his cruelty, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the man before you.

Turpin reached out to brush away your tears, his touch surprisingly gentle against your skin. "Listen to me," he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion, "if there are other lives, if there is a chance for redemption, I will find you."

You blinked in disbelief, unable to comprehend the magnitude of his promise. "What do you mean?" you whispered hoarsely, your voice filled with uncertainty.

Turpin's gaze bore into yours, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "If one day I am reborn, if one day I have the chance to make amends for my sins," he said solemnly, "I will look for you. In every life, in every world, I will look for you."

A sob caught in your throat as you listened to his words, the weight of his promise settling over you like a heavy blanket. Despite everything, despite the pain and the heartache, you couldn't deny the truth in his eyes, the sincerity in his voice.

With a groan, Lionel reached over and disarmed the alarm at the head of his bed, silencing its incessant beeping. Damn these crazy dreams, he thought to himself, shaking his head in frustration.

"Because you are mine," Turpin continued, his voice filled with a quiet intensity, "and I am yours. And nothing, not even death itself, can change that."

"Richard..."

Suddenly, Lionel jolted awake from his bed, disoriented and slightly bewildered by the vividness of his dream. Running his hands through his hair, he looked around the dimly lit bedroom, the remnants of the dream still lingering in his mind.

As he undressed and stepped into the shower, the hot water cascading over his tired body, Lionel tried to remember the details of the dream. It was always the same, a smile, but the specifics eluded him, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

Furrowing his brow in concentration, Lionel scrubbed at his skin, hoping to shake off the remnants of the dream that clung to him like a stubborn shadow. He had better things to think about, like the party he was hosting today and the Monet he planned to purchase.

But try as he might, the memory of the dream persisted, taunting him with its elusive details. Frustrated, Lionel leaned against the tiled wall of the shower, closing his eyes and willing the images to fade away.

As the steam filled the air around him, Lionel took a deep breath, letting the warmth of the water soothe his tired muscles. He had a busy day ahead of him, and he couldn't afford to dwell on a mere dream.

With renewed determination, Lionel finished his shower and stepped out into the cool air of the bathroom, the memory of the dream still lingering at the edges of his mind. But as he dried himself off and got dressed, he pushed the thoughts aside, focusing instead on the tasks that lay ahead.

There would be time to ponder the meaning of his dreams later. For now, Lionel had a party to host and a painting to acquire, and nothing was going to stand in his way.

Lionel's brow furrowed in frustration as he examined the counterfeit Monet in front of him, the queen's face mocking him from the canvas. He sighed heavily as Harry Deane and PJ Puznowski walked away, his heart still racing with the realization of how close he had come to being tricked.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief at his own gullibility. He had almost fallen for their scheme, but he refused to let himself dwell on it any longer. There were more pressing matters at hand, and Lionel couldn't afford to waste time regretting his near-miss.

Straightening his bow tie with a determined gesture, Lionel plastered a smile on his face and made his way back to the party. He had a reputation to maintain, after all, and he couldn't let a little setback ruin his evening.

As he mingled with the guests, exchanging pleasantries and discussing business deals, Lionel couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered at the back of his mind. It was as if something was tugging at his subconscious, pulling him towards a truth he couldn't quite grasp.

And then, he saw her.

She was standing across the room, surrounded by two other women, her sweet smile lighting up her face. Lionel felt his heart skip a beat as their eyes met, a sense of déjà vu washing over him like a tidal wave.

For a few precious seconds, the world seemed to fade away as he stared at her, captivated by the warmth and kindness in her eyes. It was a sensation unlike anything he had ever experienced before, a feeling that defied explanation.

But before he could dwell on it any longer, she looked away, turning back to her friends and resuming her conversation. Lionel watched her with a mixture of longing and confusion, his mind racing with questions he couldn't begin to answer.

Who was she? And why did she stir something within him that he couldn't quite define?

And as he watched her move gracefully through the crowd, laughter dancing in her eyes, Lionel couldn't help but feel a sense of hope stir within him.

With a shake of his head, Lionel forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He had a party to host and guests to entertain, and he couldn't afford to let his thoughts wander.

But as the evening wore on, he found himself stealing glances in her direction, unable to shake the feeling that he had found something he never knew he was searching for.

It was then that he noticed her uniform, the realization dawning on him with a sense of disbelief. She was a waitress, just another face in the crowd, and yet... there was something about her that stirred a sense of familiarity within him.

With a rueful laugh, Lionel shook his head, dismissing the notion as absurd. But deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had found something important, something worth holding onto amidst the chaos of his extravagant life.

Perhaps, just perhaps, he had finally found what he had been looking for all along.

#alan rickman #judge turpin x reader #judge turpin #sweeney todd #oc #lionel shabandar

[muiitoloko]

Between Takes and Waistlines

Summary: Alan, a mature and charming actor, is enchanted by the talented costume designer.

Pairing: Alan Rickman × Fem!Reader

Warning: none.

Alan rolls his eyes in amusement at costume designer, you, while you gasps in disbelief, taking his measurements.

"Good grief, Alan! Have you been sneaking off to the buffet table between takes?" You exclaims, measuring his waist.

Alan chuckles, "Oh, you caught me. Couldn't resist the allure of those craft service pastries. A man's gotta eat, you know."

You shakes your head, still incredulous. "Well, you'll have to lay off the pastries if you want to fit into your costumes properly. We can't have Lionel Shabandar looking like he's been indulging in too much fine dining."

Alan nods, feigning seriousness. "Yes, yes, I suppose you're right. I'll just have to stick to sipping water and nibbling on celery sticks from now on. The sacrifices we make for art."

You laughs, rolling your eyes. "Oh, stop it, Alan. You know you love your snacks too much to give them up completely."

Alan shrugs, a playful glint in his eyes. "Guilty as charged, my dear. But hey, at least I'll be a well-fed actor, right?"

You chuckles, shaking your head. "You're incorrigible, Alan. But I wouldn't have it any other way."

As you continues to take his measurements, Alan can't help but steal glances at your, admiring her beauty and grace. He knows he's too old for you, but that doesn't stop him from fantasizing about you every night. He sighs inwardly, pushing aside his desires as he focuses on the task at hand. After all, he wouldn't want to make things awkward between them on set.

As you finish with Alan's measurements, you take the pen out of your blouse and retrieve your small notebook from the pocket of your jeans. With a focused expression, you begin making new notes of Alan's measurements, ensuring everything is accurately recorded. Once satisfied, you glance up at him, a warm smile on your lips.

"Alright, handsome, we’re done here,” you inform, your voice full of enthusiasm for the work ahead. "These costumes will fit you perfectly."

Alan returns your smile with his signature charm, his eyes twinkling with appreciation. "Thank you, my dear. Your expertise is truly unmatched."

As he starts to make his way over to where his coat is, he pauses, a hint of hesitation crossing his features. Trying to appear casual, he clears his throat before speaking.

"Hey, I was thinking," Alan begins, his tone light. "The cast was talking about grabbing some drinks tonight. Would you care to join us?"

But you seem distracted, engrossed in your notes as you continue jotting down measurements. After a long silence, you finally seem to notice that Alan is still standing there, and you blink in confusion.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Alan," you apologize, a faint blush tinting your cheeks. "Did you say something?"

Alan's heart sinks a little at your apparent lack of attention, but he quickly recovers, offering a clever comment to change the subject.

"Oh, it was nothing important," he says smoothly, masking his disappointment with a charming smile. "Just thinking out loud. Well, I should be off. Goodbye, my dear."

With a polite nod, Alan takes his leave, pretending as though he had never extended the invitation for drinks, even if it was with the rest of the film's cast. As he walks away, he can't help but feel a pang of regret, knowing that he'll continue to pine for you from afar, unable to act on his desires.

Later, Alan comes home a little tipsy after all the drinks he's had. He stumbles to his bedroom, barely bothering to take off his clothes as he flops onto the bed, settling onto his pillow. Once again, his mind turns to you, and he tries in vain to push thoughts of you away, but it's no use. With a disappointed groan, he can't help but consider the idea of eating more and gaining weight again, just so you would have to take his measurements once more. He enjoyed having your hands touching him, measuring him, and hearing your voice as you spoke to him.

As Alan recalls this moment, he stops his story when Jimmy Fallon laughs, and Alan joins in, his baritone voice adding a touch of sophistication to the laughter. Jimmy questions if Alan really got fat just to have a chance to talk to you again, and Alan, a little embarrassed but still maintaining his wit, confirms the truth behind his actions.

"Well, Jimmy," Alan begins, his hooked nose giving him an air of distinction, "one must do what one can for love, even if it means sacrificing one's waistline for the pleasure of a lady's company."

As the audience chuckles, Alan's gaze drifts to where you're sitting, a fond smile playing at his lips. Despite the age gap, he couldn't deny the deep affection he felt for you. And as he continues to share his story, recounting how he eventually gathered the courage to confess his feelings and the joy of finding out that you felt the same way, he knows that every moment was worth it.

#alan rickman #alan rickman x reader #lionel shabandar #gambit 2012 #jimmy fallon

[smilingformoney]

Sharing Part III | Lionel/Reader/Eli

These two have taken over my brain send help

Now with surprise appearance from Sinclair and Betty!

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

Apparently luck was on Lionel’s side, because a month or so later - during which time your flirting hadn’t ceased one bit - you were on your way to London.

It wasn’t for the best of reasons - you discovered on Thursday night that your uncle back in England had died and the funeral was on Monday, so you were very suddenly trying to book flights and accommodation at the last minute.

You: Urgent. Cheapest way to get last-minute tickets to London?

Lionel: Are you that desperate for me?

You: Family stuff. Any tips?

Lionel: When do you need to leave?

You: ASAP. Family thing is on Monday.

Lionel: I’ll sort it. Hold tight.

You: My hero ❤️

Less than twelve hours later, you were at the airport with a boarding pass Lionel had emailed to you. He had apologised profusely that you were flying commercial - apparently he had a private jet, because of course he did - but at the very least he’d managed to secure you a business class ticket.

Business class was fancy. You were generously paid by your university - far more than a literature professor should, even if you had a doctorate - but things like flight class upgrades were luxuries you’d never seen the value in.

But you might just change your mind on that. There was no way you could go back to being packed into economy like sardines now that you’d experienced the luxury of business class.

You were almost disappointed when the plane landed in London and you had to get off, but at least your dual nationality meant you could get through immigration quickly with your British passport. Lionel had told you to expect a driver to be waiting, so when you saw a man holding a sign bearing your name, you introduced yourself to him and let him take your bags to the car.

Even the car was a luxury. Lionel had really gone all out for you - but, then again, the man was filthy stinking rich. This was probably the minimum standard for him.

The driver pulled into the underground car park for a fancy-looking building, which you presumed to be your hotel, which was no doubt also very fancy and far too expensive.

He took you and your bags to a lift within the car park and handed you a key, telling you to use it to take you straight to number 69.

You wondered if Lionel had picked that room number intentionally. Probably.

The lift ascended, and you felt extremely out of place. Even the damn lift was fancy! And here you were in your baggy, worn out flying clothes. If anyone saw you, they’d probably think you’d snuck in and try to kick you out.

The lift finally reached its destination and you stepped out directly into the room, which could only be described as an entire apartment. What sort of fancy hotel had direct lift access to the rooms?

Your question was answered when you turned your head and saw the artwork on the wall.

It wasn’t a hotel room at all. It was Lionel’s penthouse.

“Fucking bastard, Lionel,” you muttered under your breath.

“Is that any way to address your host?”

Sure enough, Lionel was descending the stairs, an animal-print robe wrapped loosely around his torso, leaving just enough of a gap that you could see his chest hair poking out.

You’d sworn you’d wait at least to say hello before you jumped him, but… fuck it. You met him at the bottom of the stairs and your lips were on his instantly.

You felt him smiling into the kiss as his arms snaked around your back, one hand cupping your arse. He pushed against you lightly, and you were like putty in his hands, immediately falling back against the wall, allowing him to trap your body against his.

“I hope you don’t mind if I don’t wine and dine you first,” he growled in your ear as your kisses moved up his jawline. “I’ve been waiting far too long to have you.”

“God, no, fuck that. Take me out later. Right now I just need you to take me.”

You could feel his erection pressing up against you, his robe threatening to come apart, and of fucking course he wasn’t wearing any underpants. You grabbed clumsily against his chest as you tried to open his robe, and Lionel chuckled.

“Not here, love. I have quite a comfortable bed I think you’d much prefer over the wall.”

“We could be behind the fucking bins at Taco Bell, I wouldn’t care. I just - just fucking need you, Lionel - fuck, please —“ You muttered your pleas between kisses on his neck, and Lionel moaned when your teeth grazed his skin.

“Ohh, yes, I’ll take you, [Y/n]. You won’t ever want to leave London again - you won’t want to leave my bed again. You’ve entered the lion’s den now, love. Prepare to be… devoured.”

He pulled away from you slightly, causing you to gasp in surprise at the sudden absence of his skin against your lips, and he gestured for you to lead up the stairs.

“Looking for a view of my ass?” you teased.

He smacked your left cheek for that.

“If I want to see your arse, I know you’ll show me. I don’t need to trick you. Here - this room on the left.”

“How many bedrooms do you have?”

“Only five.”

Only?

You always thought your apartment was a bit big for one person. Lionel was one person too, and yet the master bedroom he was leading you into was bigger than your entire apartment.

You’d be disgusted at the obscene wealth if you weren’t so horny.

You were still gaping at the size of the bedroom when Lionel wrapped his arms around you from behind, and you felt his erection pressing into your ass. He slipped one hand into your pants and you gasped at the sudden intrusion as he cupped your pussy with his large hand.

“I’m going to fuck you until you forget how to walk,” he growled in your ear seductively.

“Please,” you begged, throwing your head back onto his shoulder as his fingers began teasing at your folds. His other hand slipped under your t-shirt and grabbed at your breast, causing you to gasp when he squeezed your nipple.

“Gah - fuck - please, Lionel - please fuck me, please, please, please —“

He smirked as he placed a kiss to your jaw.

“Do you not need foreplay? Or is my lioness hungry already?”

“We’ve had months of foreplay, Lionel. I’m done waiting.”

“Mmm… I suppose you’re right. Get naked and get on the bed.”

“Yes, sir.”

You almost stumbled over your own feet to get to the bed and undress at the same time, and Lionel just laughed.

“I knew you’d be eager. That’s why I didn’t bother getting dressed.”

He dropped his robe, and just as you’d suspected, he was stark naked underneath.

“Where are your condoms?” you asked.

“In the drawer.”

You reached over into his bedside cabinet, and stifled a giggle when you saw his box of condoms was right next to a copy of the Karma Sutra.

“There are a lot of fun positions in there we can try,” Lionel said when he saw you looking. He took the condom from you and began to roll it down his shaft. You watched his movements, practically drooling at his cock. “But we’ll experiment later. For now, I want to see your face as I fuck you for the first time.”

Lionel climbed on top of you and kissed you, hard and passionate, as if the only air he could breathe was that from your lungs. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, clinging onto him desperately, your hips bucking up towards him in a desperate plea.

He unstuck his face from yours, both of you panting for air, and Lionel looked at you with a surprising amount of tenderness.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, and with a swift thrust he slipped inside you.

You both groaned in relief, months of sexual tension finally paying off. He fit perfectly - just the right amount of stretch, and when he bottomed out, you could feel his tip pressing snugly against your G-spot.

He paused once he was sheathed inside you, his eyes closed as he savoured the feeling of being buried inside you.

“Lionel…”

He grunted in response, his eyes flickering open to look at you with a wild lust in his eyes.

“Devour me.”

Lionel grinned and his eyes flashed dangerously.

“With pleasure, love.”

He set a brutal pace, and you had to hold onto him to stop yourself from being thrown around on the bed - not that that was an unpleasurable idea, but for now you liked being sandwiched between his body and the mattress as his hips rammed into you as if he was trying to hammer you into the bed.

“You’re right, we don’t need foreplay,” Lionel said smugly as he lifted himself into a kneeling position, keeping his brutal pace going the whole time. “You’re soaked.”

“I’ve been wet for you f - for months, Lionel - ah!” You squeaked when his hand reached between your bodies and he began rubbing your clit with his thumb, just adding to the anguishing pleasure you felt burning through you, and you wondered if he’d consulted his Karma Sutra on how to pleasure the clit just right - either that or he was just a natural at pleasuring women.

“You know, I fucked Polly from accounts last week and - ugh - the whole time I thought of you. You’ve - mhm - you’ve ruined other women for me, love. Even before I’d had you. And now I have - hahhhh - now I have, I’m afraid they’ll all pale in comparison.”

You grinned cheekily. “That’s what they all say.”

Lionel’s grip on your thigh tightened, and he shook his head.

“I mean it. Fuck. Even your tits are perfect.” He eyed them hungrily, watching the way they bounced with each of his thrusts, the way your chest shuddered slightly with each moan. He increased the pace of his thumb on your clit, and you cried out.

“Lionel!”

Your hands gripped the sheets, desperate for some sort of purchase as your whole body shook with each of Lionel’s thrusts. You were close, you knew it, and when you felt the familiar flame burning inside you, you knew there was no stopping it.

“Lionel, I - I’m gonna cum, I —-“

“Yes, love, that’s it, cum on my cock - let me hear you —“

“Oh god, Lionel… Lionel!”

You screamed his name as you came, your muscles spasming and your walls clenching tight around his length. Lionel gritted his teeth, a low rumble building in his chest, and your name tumbled out of his mouth as he came, cock pulsing, and you were hit with a desire to feel him fill you with his seed.

He held your hips flush against his, his cock twitching inside you as he panted, his brain empty and dizzy with nothing but the bliss of you.

After a few moments, Lionel pulled out of you and you reluctantly climbed out of the bed to go to the bathroom. When you came back, Lionel had discarded his condom but had made no effort to put his clothes back on. He beckoned you towards him, a satisfied smirk on his face, and you clamboured under the blankets with him.

Lionel wrapped an arm around you and held you close, as if without your body heat he would freeze.

“Hello,” he mumbled with a chuckle.

“Hi.”

You both laughed.

“How was your flight?” Lionel asked, adjusting himself slightly on the bed so he could look at you and hold you at the same time.

“Amazing. I didn’t want to get off. I’ve never flown business before.”

“Really? Much better than first, isn’t it?”

You scoffed. “Lionel, I’ve never flown anything other than economy.”

“What?” he said incredulously. “Packed in like sardines with god knows who?”

“Well, sometimes I use my flying points to upgrade to economy plus.”

“Outrageous. That university should be paying you far more if you feel you have to slum it in economy.”

“I teach literature, Lionel. Nobody cares about literature. The money’s in science.”

“Nonsense, the arts are extremely important!”

“You’re only saying that because you run a media company. You need us artists, or you wouldn’t have anything to sell.”

“First of all, I run multiple media companies —“

“Oh, sorry, of course.”

“— and second, I run them because I believe art is important. So brilliant people like you can continue creating. You’re welcome.”

You laughed, and you were about to respond when your phone began ringing from where you’d tossed it on the floor when getting undressed.

Lionel, who had a better view of the phone, peered over at it.

“Pfft, you’ve barely landed and Michaelson misses you already.”

“I’ve barely landed and you’re fucking me already.”

Lionel grinned. “That’s true.” He leant out of the bed to grab the ringing phone and tossed it to you. “Go on, better not keep Daddy waiting.”

You rolled your eyes at him and answered the phone.

“Hi, Eli.”

“[Y/n], where are you? I’ve come to your office and you’re not here.”

“No, I’m off today.”

“Off? Why didn’t you tell me? Are you sick?”

“Yes, off. I didn’t tell you because it was last-minute and you’re not my keeper. And no, I’m not sick.”

“Well, when are you coming back?”

“Erm - I’m not sure, actually. Lionel, when’s my flight back?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t booked it yet.”

“Lionel?” Eli repeated down the phone, flabbergasted. “You took off at the last minute to see Lionel?”

“No, of course not! I had to get to London quickly and —“

“Yes, I’m sure you did. I thought you were a professional, [Y/n]. I can’t believe you booked the day off work to fly to London for a shag, as you lot like to call it —“

“Eli! Will you shut up? My uncle died, dickhead, his funeral’s on Monday. Lionel was kind enough to get me a last-minute flight and put me up for the weekend.”

“Oh, yeah? Fucked him yet?”

“What’s it to you?”

“I knew it! Barely off the plane and you’re already spreading your legs.”

“Put him on loudspeaker,” Lionel muttered to you. You sighed and did so, hoping if they hashed it out quickly it’d be over sooner.

“Michaelson! You need to learn to share, mate. You both made it clear you’re not a couple, so what’s your problem? Or are you only interested in fidelity when it’s one-way? Speaking of which, found any more bastards lately?”

“Ah, fuck off, Shabandar. [Y/n], you better get back soon as you can. You’re in for a hell of a punishment.”

He hung up.

“Prat,” Lionel spat. “Does he always speak to you like that?”

“He’s an asshole, sure, but he’s not usually that bad. He’s just - well, not jealous, I don’t think. I think he’s just annoyed because he likes the idea that he’s fucking multiple women but I’m only fucking him.” You paused. “Aw, man, I’m just a replacement for his ex-wife, ain’t I?”

“You are a lot of things, [Y/n], but you’re certainly no one’s wife.”

“Damn straight.” You tossed the phone aside and leant back into Lionel’s arms. He smiled and held you happily, both of you glad you could finally feel one another’s warmth.

“Have you ever been married, Lionel?” you asked absentmindedly.

“No. Never found a woman I’d want to commit to.”

“So you’re too much of a man whore?”

Lionel chuckled, and you could feel his deep laugh reverberating through his chest.

“Precisely. Just like you’re too much of a slut. Would you marry either one of us if it meant you could never have the other?”

“You’re rich, so yes, I’d marry you.”

“So shallow, [Y/n]!” Lionel said in mock surprise. “Have you been flirting with me all this time just to get to my wallet?”

“No, the other thing in your pants. But the hefty wallet’s pretty nice too.”

Lionel smiled and kissed the top of your head surprisingly gently. “Did you want to get dinner tonight? It’s on me and my hefty wallet. Anything you need while you’re here is on me.”

“Hmm… I’ll be honest with you, I’m not too keen on putting any more clothes on today.”

“Good point, nor am I. We’ll order in, then, and tomorrow we’ll go out for lunch. I have a charity event tomorrow night if you’re interested. Very fancy party, lots of rich people mingling and writing generous cheques to show how rich and altruistic they are. I’m sure you’ll find yourself a rich husband there.”

“I doubt anything I’ve packed will be suitable —“

“Then I’ll buy you a dress in the afternoon, after we go out for lunch. Please say you’ll come, [Y/n], these things are horrifically boring. I’m richer than everyone else there, so their displays of wealth are so tedious.”

You turned your head to look up at him with a smirk. “Why would I go looking for a rich husband at this party if I’m already fucking the richest man there?”

“So you can fob him off to fuck me instead.”

You laughed, then turned around to throw a leg over his lap, straddling him, his half-erect cock pressing against your thigh.

“I seem to recall you saying you always get what you want, so do I really have a choice here?”

Lionel grinned. “You’re a quick learner.”

“You think? Let me see how quickly I can learn the best way to ride you…”

***

It was very, very dangerous how much you were enjoying spending time with Lionel. From waking up to his face between your legs, to lunch at a fancy restaurant and shopping in the afternoon, you could definitely get used to being spoilt.

And on top of treating you well, he was good company too. He was witty and he had a way of making you feel comfortable with him, even in unfamiliar surroundings. You bonded over a mutual love of all things artistic - not just paintings, as were his passion, and literature, as was yours, but you had similar tastes in theatre, music and cinema.

When it was time to leave for the charity event, you met Lionel at the bottom of the stairs where he was standing looking out the window as he waited for you in a perfectly fitted tux, which was no doubt tailor-made.

“Well, don’t you look handsome!” you said, eyes raking up and down his body, containing the urge to rip the tuxedo off him.

Lionel turned around, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise when he saw you.

“Wow, [Y/n]…”

“Do I look alright? I wasn’t sure what to do with my hair, so I figured I’d just curl it —“

“You’re beautiful.”

He said it so suddenly, so sincerely, that it made you blush.

“Oh - erm - thank you. I won’t look out of place?”

Lionel shook his head incredulously and approached you to wrap his arm around your waist.

“Darling, you’ll stick out like a sore thumb only because you’ll outshine them all. All eyes will be on the most beautiful woman in the room.”

“Lionel, stop it, you’re making me blush!” you giggled, but you loved to hear such sweet words coming from him.

“And you still look beautiful with your cheeks glowing red. Shall we, then?” He offered you his arm.

“Yes, let’s,” you said, taking his arm gratefully and allowing him to guide you to the elevator.

The party might have been tedious to Lionel, but you were having a great time. He introduced you to so many people that you lost track, but you did meet a few famous faces you were a little starstruck by.

“Ah, and here’s my cousin, late as usual!” Lionel announced as a man around his age, bearing some resemblance to him, arrived with a smile on his face and a slightly younger woman on his arm, who looked just as nervous to be there as you were.

“Lionel!” the cousin announced cheerily. “Good to see you, cuz!”

He wrapped his arms around Lionel in a big bear hug, which Lionel tolerated with a pat on the back before stepping back.

“[Y/n], this is Sinclair Bryant, my cousin. As you can already tell, he has no respect for decorum or timekeeping.”

If Sinclair heard the insult, he showed no sign of it, as he was still beaming as if seeing Lionel was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

“[Y/n]? How lovely to meet you! You know, our great-great-grandmother was called [Y/n], wasn’t she, Lionel?”

Lionel shrugged. “Was she? I wouldn’t know. Sinclair has the family history memorised,” he explained to you, “along with every other fact known to man.”

He turned his attention to Sinclair’s companion and smiled, a familiar twinkle in his eye, and a twist in your stomach suddenly reminded you of Eli. You hadn’t heard from him since last night’s phone call.

“And Elizabeth, looking lovely as always, dear.” Lionel took Elizabeth’s hand and kissed it with a flirtatious smile, and she blushed.

“I’ve told you before, Lionel, you can call me Betty.”

“Betty, of course. Now, if you ladies don’t mind, I have some business to discuss with Sinclair.”

“Now?” you said. “Aren’t we at a party?”

“Yes, and if we don’t catch each other now, it won’t be until Christmas. Now, Sinclair, about those reports you sent me…”

The two men wandered off, and you excused yourself for some air, finding your way out to the balcony, which you were relieved to find was empty.

As if he psychically knew you were thinking about him, your phone rang and sure enough Eli was calling.

“How’d you know I was thinking about you?”

“Because you’re always thinking about me. How’s the party?”

“Good, but I feel so out of place. Met some interesting people though. Hey, wait, how did you know about the party?”

“It’s on Twitter.”

“Since when do you use Twitter?”

“Since this morning. You know Lionel’s super famous, right? Being filthy rich does that. Everything he does gets tweeted. There are photos of you two all over the internet.”

“What?!” you gasped.

“Yep. Lionel Shabandar and mystery woman at lunch… Lionel Shabandar and mystery woman go shopping… Mystery woman accompanies Lionel Shabandar to charity gala… Oh, now here’s an interesting comment. ‘Isn’t this the same woman who went to Shabandar’s Christmas party with Eli Michaelson?’ You’re really making a name for yourself. Or you would be if anyone knew your name…”

“Fucking hell. Nah, I can’t have this, Eli. I can’t have my personal life plastered all over the internet!”

“Should have thought of that before you fucked a Nobel Laureate and one of the richest men in the world.”

“Oh piss off, you are not using this to excuse your jealousy. Look, I have some fame of my own, okay? Maybe not like you two do but I am known in lit circles, and the last thing I want is for my name to be associated with who I’m dating rather than my work.”

“Dating? Is that what you and Lionel were doing today?”

“No - shut up, you know what I mean. Do you think Lionel can take them down? He pretty much controls most of the media, right, so maybe he can talk to the head of Twitter or whatever —“

“Too late. Once it’s on the internet, it’s everywhere.”

You sighed and leaned back against the wall.

“So… you were thinking about me?” Eli said after a few moments.

“…Maybe.”

“But you’ve got such exalted company, [Y/n]. Why would you be thinking of a humble little Nobel Laureate?”

You scoffed. “You are the very antithesis of humble, Eli. And you’re certainly not little.”

“But I am a Nobel Laureate.”

“Yes, you’ve mentioned.”

“So… what were you thinking about? Missing my cock yet?”

“Actually, I thought of you because I saw Lionel flirt with someone. Realised I was jealous… made me think I kind of understand why you’re mad about me being here.”

There was a long pause.

“I was gonna ask you out,” Eli said.

“…What?”

“Last night. That’s why I was mad. I was gonna ask you for a real date. Spent an hour working up the courage to knock on your door, meanwhile you were in London fucking Lionel.”

You froze. Your world was spinning. Then, without even thinking, you said, “I woulda said yes.”

“You wouldn’t rather Lionel instead?” Eli scoffed.

“No. I dunno. I… I like both of you. You fuck around, and I know Lionel does too. Can’t I have it both ways? You for when I’m in the States, Lionel when I’m in the UK. Both of you when you’re both around. I keep thinking of taking both of you again.”

Eli let out a frustrated groan.

“Fuck, you’re such a greedy slut. I wish I was there to take you right now in front of all those stuck-up snobs. Lionel can join in only once I’m done with your tight cunt and it’s all loosened for him. Or maybe he could take your ass at the same time. Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“God, Eli - I can’t be getting wet in the middle of this party —“

“You knew you’d be getting wet the moment you started thinking about me.”

“I’m always thinking about you at the worst of times… last week one of my students asked if I was friends with you and I had to resist saying I’d sucked your cock half an hour earlier. Not least because I’m pretty sure she’s one of yours. Leah Driver?”

“Oh, Leah… yeah, she’s one of mine. Gives terrible head, but her ass is divine.”

That awful twisting feeling rose up in your gut again, and you pushed it back down.

“In fact, since you’re off playing fancy with Lionel, maybe I’ll arrange a one-to-one with her…”

“Are you trying to make me jealous of a student when I have Lionel here ready to take me as soon as I open my legs? Try harder, sweetie.”

“Not there with you now, is he?”

“No, he’s catching up with his cousin.”

“Oh, Sinclair? Yeah, I’ve met him. Extremely annoying.”

“He seems alright to me.”

“His wife’s hot, though. The new one, not the old one.”

“Okay, Eli, you go fuck your students like the professional you are. I’ve got a party to enjoy.”

Meanwhile, back inside, Lionel and Sinclair had finished their business chat and conversation had turned to more interesting things.

“That woman you’re with seemed really lovely! Are you dating her?” Sinclair asked with excitement, as if his cousin’s love life was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Why, are you looking?”

Sinclair looked offended. “Of course not! I’m very happy with Betty, you know that. I wouldn’t dream of even looking at another woman.”

“Sinclair, relax, I was joking,” Lionel reassured him, knowing his cousin’s feelings about cheating. “No, we’re not dating. Simply fucking.”

“Well, Betty was looking on Twitter earlier - I don’t have it myself, I’m completely inept with technology - but somebody spotted you and [Y/n] at lunch earlier, so I thought maybe there was something more there. Especially as you brought her tonight.”

“She’s certainly… piqued my interest,” Lionel admitted. Sinclair’s eyes lit up, but Lionel quickly added, “But she’s clearly not interested in anything of the sort. I’m not the only man she’s seeing, for starters.”

“Then you need to win her over! Why don’t you bring her to Betty’s birthday party on Tuesday? I can be your wingman! I’ll tell her all the embarrassing stories from when we were kids and you used to show up to family events in your lion onesie, and if she’s still interested after that, you know she’s the one!”

“Don’t you dare, Sinclair,” Lionel said warningly. “If you ruin my chances with [Y/n], I will steal your wife.”

“So you do like her! Oh, this is great, Li! I’ll ask Betty to talk to her and see if she can find out if she likes you too. Ooh, this is so fun! I’ll go talk to Betty right now! She can be super sneaky when she wants to - lied to my face for months about not being in love with me —“

Sinclair was out the door before he’d even finished talking, and his sentence seemed to run straight into the next when he bounded up to Betty and started talking animatedly to her.

Lionel hesitated before returning to the party. He was one of the richest men in the world. He could have pretty much anything he wanted with a snap of his fingers - or a flash of his debit card. Why was he letting a woman get to him like this?

No, he wasn’t having it. Sharing you with Eli was one thing, but he would not doubt himself.

After your call with Eli, you made your way back inside, and glanced around, hoping for a familiar face. You saw Sinclair chatting animatedly to Betty, but Lionel was nowhere to be seen.

You began to make your way through the crowd towards the bar, carefully avoiding bumping into a drunk Bill Gates, when you felt a large hand close around your wrist and pull you back around.

You hardly had a moment to register that it was Lionel who had a grip on you when his lips were on yours, and his hand released your wrist from his grip only to hold your face firmly between his hands, as if worried you might break the kiss.

Somewhere in the distance, some rich people were wolf-whistling and cheering, but you paid them no mind. All that existed in that moment was you and Lionel, and the most breathtaking kiss you’d ever received.

It was all over Twitter within minutes.

#alan rickman #lionel shabandar #eli michaelson #sinclair bryant #lionel x reader #eli x reader #sinclair x betty