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bunnys-kisses · 4 months ago

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max verstappen (mv1)

cw: smut/pwp, tattoos, (slight) possessive behavior, coercion, bimbo!reader, doggy style, multiple orgasms

bunny says: 👀

max just adored you. there was something about you that brought him to life. more than a driver, more than a winner. max would describe himself as committed to the point that he could be obsessive. once he had his eye on the prize, he would see it through to the end.

wins, championships, sponsorships, you.

mad max was an unstoppable force. when it came to you however, max was a whole different man. he could feel the curl of jealousy in his gut as he watched you be your typical, friendly self at the paddock. max couldn't help it.

you were an excited little bunny when you ran up to hug sergio, you practically jumped as you held him. he came in at a strong fourth and you wanted to make sure he felt like he did a good job too!

"you did great!"

"thank you, thank you!" he laughed as he held you in return. as he gave you a quick hug he could see over your shoulder, max verstappen, teammate and winner, looking back at him with his arms crossed.

yeah, he didn't want to cross that line and pulled away. he smiled at you and said, "you should go see our winner." then patted you on the shoulder.

you nodded, you were so painfully innocent at times. then you scampered off to your boyfriend. you ran into his arms and gave him a big hug and kiss.

he held you jaw and looked into your eyes, "someone busy?"

"all the attention was on you, max! i wanted to make sure sergio knew he did good as well."

he pulled you in for another kiss and said, "i see." as he looked at you. he said with a small smile, "you're just too sweet. now come on. let's see me on the podium."

you were a flirt, maybe not purposefully but, you could just be so friendly that it bordered on flirting. you cared deeply about how people felt! you didn't want anyone to feel like shit about themselves. max thought it was adorable, but it could get you into trouble sometimes.

like when a mechanic tried to pick you up or when you were just so sweet to toto wolff that he thought that you were flirting with him. you were going to give poor max a heart attack!

you were back in the hotel room at sliverstone, with your hands on a slice of pizza. you told him earlier that those expensive appetizers post-game weren't going to cut it as a meal.

you were in a pair of sleeping shorts that were pushed up by the way you were seated and one of max's redbull t-shirts that really showed off your chest. you made a soft noise as you bit into the slice. it had been a while since you had unhealthy, greasy food.

max was seated beside you on the couch, the box of warm pizza between you two. he took in the slight of your body and your sweet noises. you just looked too painfully cute.

he reached over and touched your hair, "does it taste good?"

you nodded and looked at him, the glint in your eye turned him on. you were just so honest and kind, and it drove him up the wall! not in a bad way, he didn't want to dampen your spirits. he loved it all about you. but he also felt like he needed a way to claim a sort of ownership over you.

the idea came to him when you moved just the right way and the shorts slid up enough to show the roundness of your behind. it was like a light bulb went off in his head as he watched you adjust yourself. he leaned over the pizza box to get closer to you as he asked, "how would you feel about a tattoo?"

"tattoo?" you asked.

he nodded, "yeah, i think you'd look cute with a tattoo. then everyone in the paddock would know who you belonged to."

you blinked at him, "they don't already? i wear your number all the time!" you put the slice back in the box and tapped your greasy bottom lip, "i swear they knew."

god, you were just too sweet. he reached out for you and held your chin gently, "maybe my verstappen logo on your..behind." he moved the box onto the table and invaded your space, "i mean, you will be mrs. verstappen soon." he kissed your cheek gently.

you devolved into a flurry of giggles and said, "max! don't say that!" and looked at him when he pulled away, "do you really mean that?"

he touched your cheek, he wasn't lying. but there were things that needed to be done before you took his last name. but, he just smiled and said, "sooner than you know." then kissed you on the lips, the taste of pizza grease felt inviting as he got himself on top of you.

it wouldn't be long before you had an appointment booked for a special tattoo. max watched you lie there with your ass to the air on the tattoo table. you had a thin pair of white panties on and when the needle touched your skin, you made a small noise.

he had figured out that you were into this. you liked the sharp pain of getting a tattoo as you got max's logo tattooed onto your skin. he had seen other people with the tattoo, in less sensitive areas. but to see you have it aroused him as he sat nearby with his face against his fist and seated on a chair.

his blue eyes watched the ink flourish in its design. it was just a logo but he almost had to bite his fist to keep himself from ogling you. you whimpered at one point and made a pouty face at him for him to hold your hand.

he was more than happy to do so, the tattoo artist struck up an conversation. and max smiled and answered his questions. he just kept rubbing your knuckle as he happily told the artist all about your relationship. he liked that you were lying there quiet as the machine buzzed against your ass.

"are you feeling alright?" he asked as he pushed back your hair and smiled down at you.

you nodded, "yeah, i'll be okay. just a weird feeling."

max looked over to see that the tattoo was almost done and it looked perfect. the 'm' and the 'v' of the logo were perfect and max had to compose himself in his seat. once you were done, he watched you as you carefully put your tiny shorts back on.

the tattoo was on the side of your ass which allowed you to still sit down in max's expensive car after the session. max was beyond overjoyed at the knowledge that you had his mark on your body.

he kept his hand on your thigh as he drove you back to the hotel you were staying at for the weekend. he could feel his cock stir in his pants as he asked, "did it hurt?"

you looked at him and shook your head, "nope! well, not too much, but i was able to pull through because you were there!" you shot him a smile.

max gripped your thigh with affection before he helped you out of the car. he ushered you into the hotel, his patience and ability to keep it together was wearing thin. he needed to see you, with all your clothes and only the bandage covering the tattoo being the only thing on your body.

it wasn't hard to shepherd you into bed. he was careful about getting you out of those clothes of yours. he watched you with lust in his eyes as he you sat at the edge of the bed naked.

his jaw clenched in unrestrained desire as he felt his heart rate pick up. he got undressed before he cornered you on the bed, you laid back and he said, "i want to try something."

soon you were on your hands and knees with your ass sticking up in the air. perfect angle for the driver to sink his cock into your sweet pussy. he looked at the shape of you, the beauty of your curves and that bandage against your ass.

he wanted to peel it back see the ink job. he wanted to watch it move as he slammed his cock into you. the arousal built up in him paired with the possessiveness he held for you.

you were just so painfully innocent at times. he was doing this to protect you, no one would touch his beloved girl if she wore his logo. now a more rational max would've picked a cute gold chain or even a shirt. but max had to go the full mile. shirts would one day not fit and gold could be ruined.

he watched the bandage move as he fucked you. in a few weeks it'll come off and he could watch that logo bounced as he sank his entire cock into you.

"such a good girl." you'd give him the world. and he in turn would give you the stars. anything you desired would be yours, all he asked was for an undying loyalty. maybe he was a little paranoid, but he was desperate to make sure that the one he loved stayed by him.

he landed a smack across the side of your ass without the tattoo. he could feel the warmth in his gut, it seeped into his head as he continued to batter his cock against the back of your cunt. encouraged by your strung out moans as you felt heat course through your body.

two lovers, fucking like animals. stripping the skin of humanity and dunked into the carnal desire to fuck. you were a pitiful little puppy who loved attention while he was the hound who'd keep you safe and your cunt full.

his hands gripped onto your hips, feeling the softness under his palms. he rutted against you, his breath hot against your sweaty neck as he kept you bent to get the best angle of the bandage.

he couldn't wait, he also couldn't wait to show it off. he was a possessive little fuck, the world at his fingertips and he dug them into the meat of your hips.

the bed creaked under the both of you as he fucked you with abandon. your heat was in a whirlwind and there was coating of sweat all over you.

max came two before you did, the grip of your wet cunt around him drove him almost mad. but he kept fucking you sweet cum filled pussy until you arched you back even further and climaxed around him.

hims cum pooled in the back of your pussy thanks to the angle. and you panted heavily on the bed. he pulled out and watched his pearly cum leak out of your poor pussy.

"can't have that." he said as he collected it on his fingers and shoved them back in you. he dove his two fingers into your sweet pussy. then fingered you until you were a whimpery, whiny mess.

a perfect girl,

he managed to pull another orgasm out of you before he took out his fingers and watched you go limp onto the bed. the fight was long out of you. you laid on your side, exhausted with your mind swarming in circles. your pulse as quick as things seemed to slow down. you panted heavily. max held your face in his hands and he kissed the tip of your nose.

"good girl." he praised.

about a month later, on the track you looked divine in your little tennis skirt. you should've had "max #1" written across the ass. as he pulled you against his side, he hiked your skirt a little to show the side your thigh and ass. there was his logo.

he smirked with his face close against yours. for all eyes to see. you were max verstappen's <3.

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bindibites · 1 month ago

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Its done!!! Bunch of rambles and stuff under the cut :) (its long, but I hope you guys enjoy!!!)

-> General Stuff Petra is built like a rectangle with enough muscle to make you experience regret swifter than you may have ever thought you could.

Rips in her clothes aren't super uncommon and she isn't usually super quick to mend them unless its basically ruining the garments. Carabiner. This woman is GAY. If you don't know the full meaning go look for it :) Easy attachment to weapons and tools, Miss Butter is probably akin to a prized possession everything considered; With as much as she's used having mending was a must, but truth be told she's probably about as kitted out as you'd expect end-game diamond gear to be. That sword is never going anywhere if Petra can help it. Especially after the stint with Stella basically stealing her. She has a lot of scars, from a lot of different sources between smaller bumps and scrapes, explosions, enemies... the Wither Storm. Petra's wither sickness in particular was almost deadly, and the damage it'd done to her body never fully went away. The veins in her arm remained discolored around the scar, and the arm is mildly weaker than it would've been pre-withered though through steady use is basically back to being good as new. Petra's lungs also never fully recovered, a mild chronic cough left in its wake, though gets worse whenever Petra is sick and her body is weak again. Speaking of... -> Wither (Sickness) Wither typically enters the body through a physical wound and spreads through the circulatory system. Affecting the blood, it attacks and weakens the inflicteds organs and continues to be spread further by the heart simply doing its job. Variant Two is caused by contact to the Wither Storm (See: What happened to Gabriel.) The wither storm is not the only way to get sick with wither, but is the worst and long lasting. From weakest to strongest: Wither roses - Wither Skeletons - The Wither - Wither Storm. Injuries from all but the Wither Storm will eventually run their course as it doesn't have a consistent source to keep pulling from; thanks to its use of the command block, this does not apply to the Wither Storm. Wither acts similarly to being poisoned, though it acts slower, its side effects and danger are far worse, and dying cannot be ruled out of possibilities even for the weakest source of it. Untreated wither will kill the inflicted if they become too weak before the body can get it out of its system. -> Relationships Generally Petra is very much a provider, she cares intensely for people she's close to and enjoys doing acts of service for them. Her relationships mean a lot to her, and it tends to lead to her putting all of herself into the people she cares about; sometimes for better or for worse. Lukas and Petra have been friends for awhile, well before either of them knew about Jesse and his friends. While not exactly childhood friends, they've known each other long enough to know each other and certainly act the part.

Petra and Stella didn't always have a strained relationship, in fact when they'd first gotten to know each other things were great. Stella respected Petra's capabilities, found her affinity for exploration and her skill in combat to be amazing. Though over time, it became less admiration and more of manipulation, Petra was an easy source of loot Stella both couldn't and didn't want to get on her own... and who better to turn to than the explorer who loved her. Things did not end on good terms between the two, and ended very bitterly given even after Petra gave her another chance she was subjected to getting tricked into doing work all over again. (S2) Petra has a fond admiration towards Olivia, though believing at most that the girl could use a bit more guts and trust in her own abilities; after all she's done things most of the rest of the group couldn't even with all the time in the world! Really a brains and brawn type situation, and the two often bounce off of each other a bit. Olivia appreciates having the company, and someone who even if she doesn't fully understand whats going on is intent to help get the materials to make it possible if need-be, in return Petra has been able to pick up bits of knowledge, the way redstone works at least in its bare minimum and some of the internals of more machinery in Redstonia. ...While the she might never fully utilize that knowledge, it makes Olivia happy to have someone else in the group be attentive and care about what makes her happy. Petra and Jesse have also been very close, though it did take some time for her to warm up to the way Jesse was so... enthusiastic to even be recognized by her sometimes. Though, through everything the two know they can rely on one another to have each others back. Though neither of them could ever see each other romantically, it's still an undeniable how fundamentally close they'd become. It's definitely more than just a friendship, but neither of them could probably concisely tell you anything about their relationship on a level past "Well, we aren't dating..." Even in light of the others having different responsibilities to tend to, Jesse was still there; The adventures didn't have to end, and they didn't, and Petra wasn't alone because of Jesse's willingness to go with her on whatever excursion she needed to, or wanted to. - If you read all of this ur a real one... three thousand wither storms upon you as thanks 💜

#mcsm #minecraft story mode #mcsm fanart #mcsm headcanons #mcsm petra #mcsm olivia #mcsm jesse #mscm lukas #mcsm stella #my art #so much rambling #some of this might not make sense it has so little to go behind it but i do not care #olitra #petrivia #platonic jetra

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sallowsarchives · 3 months ago

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Beneath the Battles (Final)

Part I | Part II | Part III

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Summary: You and Arthur finally face your true feelings and past grievances, breaking down the barriers that have kept you apart. Word Count: 8.8k Warnings/Tags: EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY) MINORS DNI. No use of y/n, explicit language, angst with fluff, size difference (Arthur is a big guy), oral (female receiving), fingering, orgasm denial, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, Arthur pulls out, a little roughness, aftercare, SMUT with plot A/N: AHHH, here’s the final part!! I’d like to formally apologize for taking so long to update, I actually ended up scrapping and rewriting it, which took longer than expected. I hope this makes up for it. Once again, thank you to those who read this story and for all your lovely comments!

Read on AO3

The mansion loomed in the distance, its imposing structure partially obscured by the dense trees and underbrush that surrounded it, its windows glimmering faintly under the moonlight, casting a soft glow on the well-kept grounds.

The night was unnervingly quiet, the kind of stillness that breeds caution. After days of scouting, the mansion was finally dark and silent, just as expected. Its owners were away traveling, leaving only a few guards to patrol the surrounding grounds.

The plan was straightforward: sneak into the mansion, locate the concealed safe, and disappear with the loot before anyone was the wiser. It seemed like a simple enough task—at least, that’s what you told yourself.

You’re crouched behind the mansion's back door, fingers deftly working through the lock. With a final click, the lock gave way, and you quickly slipped inside, closing the door behind you with practiced ease.

The air inside the mansion was heavy, filled with the scent of polished wood and aged stone. Once your eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the curtained windows, you moved swiftly through the shadowed corridors, your footsteps barely making a sound on the ornate rugs that lined the floors.

Just as you rounded the corner, you find yourself coming to a sudden halt.

A man stood before the very door leading to your prize. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and had an air of confidence that immediately put you on edge. He hadn’t noticed you yet, too busy trying to jimmy open the lock.

You cursed under your breath. Who the hell was this guy? And why was he here?

This man was no bumbling thief; his movements were too precise, too deliberate. Whoever he was, he knew what he was doing, and that realization sent a wave of frustration through you. If he got to the safe first, all your planning, all your risk, would be for nothing.

You stayed hidden behind a wall as you considered your options. Confronting him could blow your cover, but waiting too long could mean losing the item.

Deciding to take the upper hand, you crept closer, making sure to keep to the shadows with calculated movements to avoid detection.

Once you were close enough, you cleared your throat, the sound slicing through the stillness like a knife just as he managed to break the lock.

The sudden noise startled him, and he froze, his head snapping toward the source of the disturbance. The look of surprise and irritation on his face was fleeting, quickly replaced by a calculating stare as he took in your presence.

You took a moment to assess him. A rugged, handsome face with piercing blue-green eyes that locked onto yours, their intensity making it clear that he was not easily intimidated.

“Well, well,” you said, your voice laced with a mix of amusement and irritation. “Looks like we both had the same idea. Didn’t think I'd run into competition tonight. What’s your game, stranger?”

You kept your voice light but there was an edge to it. You had scouted this place for weeks, and you weren’t about to let some stranger steal it out from under you.

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm before replying with a low Southern drawl that sent a chill down your spine.

"I reckon I oughta be askin' you that too, miss. Ain't seen you around here when I was scoutin' the place, so I guess you're after the same prize."

“Perhaps. Too bad there’s only one prize in that safe,” you said, eyeing the opened safe behind him.

He raised an eyebrow, a small, cocky smile playing on his lips. “Guess we’ll see who gets it first.”

You didn’t wait for him to make the first move.

In a flash, you darted forward, aiming to dodge him and get to the safe. But he was quick—quicker than you expected. He sidestepped your advance, grabbing your arm as you tried to slip past him.

“Not so fast, darlin’,” he said, his grip firm but not painful.

You twisted out of his hold, a breathless laugh escaping you as you spun around to face him again, eyes flashing with determination. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

Without warning, both of you drew your weapons in a swift motion, yours a knife and his a pistol. You knew you were at a disadvantage, the cold steel of his gun giving him the upper hand. But you weren’t about to back down.

A game of cat and mouse ensued, each of you circling the other, quips exchanged with a tension neither acknowledged.

You racked your thoughts for every trick you knew to try and outsmart him but in a moment of distraction, you seized your opportunity as a noise from outside drew both your attention.

He briefly looked away and you grabbed the nearest object—a heavy, decorative vase—and hurled it in his direction, your sudden movement catching his attention once more.

“Goddammit!” he swore as the vase sailed through the air.

The unexpected move caught him off guard, and he instinctively raised his arm to shield himself as the vase struck his arm, causing his pistol to slip from his grip and clatter onto the floor. The shattering noise echoed, no doubt alerting the guards outside.

You wasted no time and sprinted towards him, kicking the gun to the other side of the room. Ducking under his arm with practiced agility, you bolted toward the safe, your nimble fingers swiftly retrieving the necklace inside—a beautiful, intricate piece that promised a hefty pay.

The gleaming jewelry caught your eye, but you didn’t let your guard down. You knew he was still behind you, and the potential for danger was ever-present.

Turning around, you found him standing in place, watching you with an unreadable expression. You eyed him warily, adjusting your stance in case he made any sudden moves.

To your surprise, he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head in a gesture that seemed almost admiring.

"I'll give you that one," he said with a chuckle. "But don’t go thinkin' I’ll let ya off that easy next time."

You met his gaze steadily, with the tone in his voice, you couldn't help a smirk of your own.

“Next time?” you replied, your tone carrying a hint of challenge. “You might want to reconsider how you pick your battles.”

He tilted his head slightly, raising a brow. “Maybe,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “But where’s the fun in that?”

You smirk before taking a step back, keeping your eyes on him as you begin to make your exit.

“Until we meet again, stranger,” you said, voice cool and confident.

His smirk remained, making no move to stop you or follow as you slipped toward the shadows. Once you were sure he wasn’t making any sudden moves, you turned and made your way out.

The cool night air hits your face as you slip away into the darkness, the necklace secure in your pocket.

Weeks later, you stand before the Van Der Linde gang, newly recruited and eager to prove your worth. As Dutch wraps up your introduction with the gang members, a familiar face catches your eye amidst the crowd—leaning on a wagon, arms crossed, watching you with that same unreadable expression from the night at the mansion.

Arthur Morgan, you’ve come to know from Dutch as he introduced him as one of his most trusted men. You could see the recognition in Arthur’s eyes, and you couldn’t help the smirk that crept onto your face.

“We’ve met,” you said casually, holding his gaze, making his lips twitch, but he remains silent.

And so it was, a few months into your time with the gang, Dutch pairs the two of you together for a job. From the start, things don’t go smoothly. Arthur’s stubbornness clashes with your determination, turning every decision into a heated argument.

"You're too damn cautious," you snap as you crouch behind a rock, waiting to ambush a carriage.

"And you're too damn reckless," he retorts, his voice low but heated.

The frustration between you simmering, neither willing to back down.

Though the job was a success, it was clear that your relationship had shifted to something far more complex.

A rivalry that would become full of sharp words, stolen glances, and the kind of tension that made your heart race whenever Arthur Morgan was near.

The burning in your lungs is the first sensation that pierces through the fog.

It feels like your chest is on fire, each breath a painful struggle as your body fights to expel the water that had been forced into your lungs. You cough weakly, the sound raw and strained.

The presence of another person over you is the next thing you sense. Their hand cradling your back as the other presses gently on your cheek, their voice a low, comforting murmur that reaches through the haze of pain.

“C’mon, easy now,” a deep voice rang out, soothing but urgent. “Breathe slow. Just breathe.”

As the pain in your chest begins to ease, you slowly become more aware of your surroundings. The rough ground beneath you feels gritty, the chill in the air seeps through your wet clothes, which cling uncomfortably to your damp skin. A persistent throbbing in your temple adds to the disorienting discomfort.

As your sight finally focuses, you see Arthur standing over you, his rugged features marked by concern and relief. His hair was wet and tousled, with a few strands clinging to his forehead, and his face was streaked with water and mud.

“You alright?” His voice is softer now, though it still carries a note of urgency.

You try to speak, but your voice comes out as a faint, hoarse whisper. Attempting to sit up, you slump back into his arms, completely drained.

Arthur’s hand remains steady, his hand continuing to support you from your back.“Just take it easy, darlin’,” he insists. “We gotta get that nasty cut of yours fixed up.”

After a moment, he speaks up again. "You scared the hell outta me, you know that?" he says, his tone softer than you expected. Confusion flickers in your eyes as you try to make sense of his reaction.

Arthur quickly brushes it off with a shrug and a quick, dismissive smile. "You good to stand? We need to find a place to camp."

Though slightly dazed, you nod and he begins helping you to your feet, his grip firm but gentle and begins to lead the way.

You take a chance to glance over at the river, your heart sinking. "There goes everything," you mutter, as you thought of all the loot from the stagecoach robbery now lost in those dark waters, swept away without a trace.

Arthur’s eyes follow your gaze. “Yeah, things went south real quick. Can’t say I’m surprised, though. Ain’t never gone smooth with us.”

A weary sigh escapes you. Arthur gives your shoulder a small squeeze, his voice softening.

“We’ll figure out another way to make it up so we don’t come back empty-handed.”

As you and Arthur push through the thick underbrush, the sun has long set, leaving the sky almost entirely dark and providing scant light. The air is growing colder, and the fatigue from the ordeal is beginning to weigh heavily.

After a while, Arthur spots a faint outline against the darkening sky. "There," he says, pointing toward the silhouette of a structure hidden among the trees.

You squint and make out the shape of an old, dilapidated cabin. Its roof is partially caved in, and the wooden walls weathered. Still, it seems like a decent refuge for the night.

Arthur leads the both of you towards it, his steps careful as he surveys the area for any signs of danger. He pushes open the creaky door with a grunt, revealing a dusty, cobweb-covered interior. The air inside is stale, but it’s dry and shielded from the elements.

"Looks like this’ll do for tonight," Arthur says, stepping inside and looking around.

The main room contains a few pieces of furniture: a worn-out sofa, a small wooden table, and a couple of chairs. There’s a door on the left, which you assume leads to a bedroom.

A stone fireplace stands against one wall, its hearth empty but still looking functional. To the right, you notice a small kitchen area with cabinets lining the wall, hinting at a space used for simple meals.

Arthur moves with practiced caution, his eyes scanning the room as he checks for any signs of danger. He pauses, pulling his pistol from its holster. It seems he managed to keep hold of his weapon and satchel during your fall into the water—an unexpected stroke of luck.

Once he’s satisfied that the area is clear and no immediate threat is apparent, he nods and holsters the gun.

“Alright, let’s settle in,” he says, guiding you to a nearby chair. “I’ll get a fire going and check for any supplies. You just sit tight and rest.”

You nod, gratefully sinking into the chair. As Arthur moves around the house, you take a moment to let the exhaustion wash over you.

You hadn’t noticed the several minutes that had passed by where Arthur managed to set up a fire with the dried wood he had found stacked by the fireplace, the flickering flames casting a warm glow over the room.

He turns his attention back to you, a determined look on his face and retrieves a cloth from his satchel, pouring a generous amount of whiskey over it that he must have found when rummaging through the cabinets.

He takes a seat across from you, gaze steady and focused as he carefully examines the gash near your temple.

“This might sting a bit,” he says softly, his voice carrying a reassuring calm. Gently, he dabs the cloth against the cut, the wound stinging from the contact.

Arthur’s movements are careful and deliberate, his brow furrowed in concentration. As he works, his eyes occasionally meet yours, a mix of concern and resolve evident in his expression.

You watch him closely, the intensity in his expression a stark contrast to the usual deflective bravado he shows, a rare glimpse of the softer side of him that you don’t often see.

After finishing with your wound, Arthur sets the cloth aside and glances at the both of you, noting the dampness of your clothes.

“We’d best find us some dry clothes; ain't no good in keepin' us warm when we're soaked to the bone.”

You respond with a nod, feeling slightly uncomfortable from the wet garments clinging tightly to your skin.

He stands up and motions you to follow, moving towards the door on the left you saw earlier. Inside, the room is dimly lit by the fading light seeping through the grime-streaked windows. Old, moth-eaten drapes hang limply from their rods, and the floorboards creak with each step.

There was a rickety, sagging bed with a threadbare quilt, and a lone wooden chest pushed against the wall. You follow behind him, noticing the layer of dust that covers everything, marking the years of abandonment.

He heads to a chest, prying it open with a groan as the hinges protest, and begins rummaging through the contents.

As he searches for dry clothes, you start to remove some of your damp garments feeling the need to get more comfortable and ease the weight.

You’re in the process of slipping off your soaked shirt when Arthur turns around, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of you in your soaked white chemise, and he quickly averts his gaze, his face flushing a deep red.

“Uh—here,” he stammers, his voice suddenly unsteady as he holds out a faded long brown skirt and a low-necked cotton blouse. “Found these. They should fit.” He glances away, clearly flustered.

Seizing the opportunity, you smirk and tease. “What’s the matter, Arthur? Never seen a woman in her underclothes before? I thought you were used to all sorts of rough and tumble.”

Arthur rolls his eyes, his face turning redder, and he clears his throat, clearly struggling to maintain his composure. “Even after gettin' yourself all banged up, you still can’t help but run that smart mouth of yours,” he retorts, trying to mask his embarrassment with a touch of irritation.

You chuckle at his flustered response, enjoying the rare sight of him so off-balance before taking the clothes from him.

Arthur shifts uncomfortably, casting furtive glances as he takes a change of clothes for himself. He clears his throat again, his usual confidence momentarily eclipsed by awkwardness.

“I’ll, uh, just be outside if you need anything,” he mutters, leaving the room with a hasty step to give you your privacy.

The door creaks as he pulls it shut, and you can hear him mumbling to himself as he closes it behind him. His grumbling is low and unintelligible, but it brings a faint, amused smile to your lips. You chuckle silently before turning your attention to the garments.

Moments later, you find Arthur standing by the window, now dressed in a fresh set of clothes—worn jeans and a plain gray button up. His silhouette is outlined against the darkness outside. The fire crackles softly in the hearth, its warmth beginning to chase away the chill.

Arthur turns to you, his expression more relaxed now that he's shed his previous discomfort. “Feeling a bit better?”

You nod. “Yeah, much better. You?”

Arthur gives a small, awkward smile. “I’ll be just fine. Just need to take it easy and let the warmth do its work.” He gestures toward the fire. “Might as well make ourselves comfortable while we can.”

You nod and make your way to sit at the worn out sofa to warm up by the fireplace. After a comfortable silence you finally speak up, your voice soft with gratitude.

“Thanks for everything, Arthur. I know it’s been a rough day, but I really appreciate you taking care of me.”

Arthur turns to you and nods, his usual gruffness softened by the warmth of the fire and the genuine moment between you. “Don’t mention it. Just doing what needs to be done.”

As the silence settles again, Arthur clears his throat and shifts slightly, his expression thoughtful. “Speaking of rough days… reckon I oughta say somethin’ about that night at the, uh, well, what happened at the Mayor’s party,” he begins, his tone a bit hesitant.

You fold your arms, feeling uncomfortable about bringing it up again, but you know you’ve both put off addressing the issue long enough. You nod, signaling for him to continue.

Arthur looks away for a moment, clearly struggling with how to frame his words.

“I didn’t mean to make it seem like what happened between us didn’t matter. I guess I thought it’d be better to just… keep things simple and avoid complicatin’ things.”

Your eyes narrow and you let out a sigh. “You already said that but I still don’t know what you mean. If you don’t have anything new to add, then yes, I guess that’s all it was—just a fleeting moment to pass the time while we were stuck in that situation.”

“Godammit, it ain’t like that,” he says, his voice firm but tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

You glare at him, standing up as your anger and frustration begin to boil over. “Then what, Arthur? I’m done with the guessing games. If you can’t be honest with me, then at least stop pretending you care.”

“Oh, is that so? What do you want me to say, huh? That I’ve been usin’ you? That I don’t give a damn? You think that’s gonna make things better?”

“I’m not askin’ you to lay it all out. I’m askin’ you to quit actin’ like none of this means a damn thing. You’re scared to face the truth, and it’s obvious. If you’ve got something to say, then say it.”

Arthur steps closer, his voice dropping to a low growl. “You don’t know a damn thing about what’s goin’ on with me.”

You meet his gaze, your anger unwavering despite the intensity of his look. “Then why don’t you stop hiding behind your excuses and show me what’s real for once? Or are you too scared to face it yourself?”

His jaw tightens, eyes narrowing as the silence grows heavy between the two of you. You take a deep breath before continuing, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady. “Everything that happened at that party… it wasn’t just part of the act, was it?”

He looks away, eyes fixed on the ground as his expression hardens. “I was doin’ what we had to,” he says, his voice gruff. “We were pretendin’—had to make it look real.”

“That’s a goddamn lie and you know it,” you retorted. “Everything you did that night, kissing me like it meant something just to suddenly pull away and act like I was something you regretted. Do you have any idea how that felt, Arthur? How it made me feel?”

He flinched at your words, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You don’t understand—”

“Then help me understand! You shut me out, you push me away, and I’m done pretending like it doesn’t hurt.”

Arthur looked at you then, really looked at you, and you saw the pain in his eyes, the conflict warring within him.

Your words hang in the air, and for a moment, you thought he might continue ignoring you, that he’d keep his distance just as he always did. But when his eyes met yours again, there was something raw and unguarded in them that made your heart twist before he spoke, voice filled with a vulnerability you had never seen in him before.

“That night at the party, when I told you it meant nothing and pushed you away—it wasn’t because I didn’t care, but because I did. I didn’t want you seein’ me as more than just part of this damned life I’ve led.”

“Have you not thought that I’m already a part of this life too? I’m not some innocent bystander in this, Arthur. I’m in it just as much as you are, fighting beside you, continuing to risk everything for the gang. Every time you push me away, it feels like you’re saying I don’t belong, that I’m not worthy of being part of this.”

Arthur’s face softened with regret. “I’m sorry if it came across that way. I’ve just been tryin’ to protect you in my own messed-up way. I don’t want you feelin’ like you’re not part of this, ‘cause you are. More than you know.”

You looked at him, searching for honesty in his eyes. “Then be honest with me, Arthur. Don’t shut me out. I need to know where we stand.”

“I ain’t good enough for you,” he confessed, the words coming out like a reluctant admission. “I’ve done things—bad things. And I know you’ve seen some of it, but you don’t know the half of it. You deserve better than some outlaw who’s spent his life takin’ more than he’s given.”

The silence that followed was thick with emotion, as you both tried to come to terms with the weight of his confession. The barriers between you seemed to dissolve, leaving only the truth of your feelings and the painful realities of the life you both led.

You stared at him, the anger long dissipated from you as his words sank in. This was it—this was what had been driving him to keep you at arm’s length, to push you away whenever you got too close. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel the same way you did; it was that he didn’t think he was worthy of it.

“Arthur,” you said quietly, stepping closer until there was barely any space between you, “I don’t care about what you’ve done, or who you think you are. I care about you. The man who saved me today, who risked everything to make sure I was safe. The man who gives more to the gang than he ever takes for himself—that’s the man I see.”

He shook his head, his expression tortured. “You ain’t seen the worst of me yet.”

“And I don’t care if I do,” you shot back, your voice trembling with emotion. “You don’t get to decide how I feel about you, or what I’m willing to accept. I’ve made my choice, Arthur. I’m not turning back.”

He stared at you, his defenses crumbling as the truth of your words hit him. He’d spent so long believing he didn’t deserve anything good, that any softness or kindness was something he had to push away before it could be taken from him. Hell, that’s why it never worked out with Mary, too.

But here you were, standing in front of him, refusing to let him go, even after everything he’d done to keep you at a distance.

He leaned in closer, his free hand brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch lingering as if he couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

“I don’t know if I can be the man you deserve,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You crack a small smile, your voice laced with a sarcastic edge but softened by the warmth in your eyes.

“Come on, Arthur. Since when did you become an expert in what I deserve? I’ve been putting up with your brooding for far too long to be picky about the details.”

Arthur’s lips curled into a wry smile as he listened to your response. Despite the gravity of the moment, there was a glimmer of amusement and admiration in his eyes.

“You know,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of his old charm, “you’ve been a right pain in my ass since day one. Guess that’s why it’s so damn complicated with us. But, damn it, you’re still the only one who can make me see the bright side of this mess.”

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a challenging look.

“Oh, is that your way of saying I’m the best you’ve got? How flattering.”

Arthur chuckled, shaking his head. “Maybe more than you know. You’ve got a knack for makin’ everything seem less bleak, even when you’re makin’ my life hell.”

After a silent moment, Arthur reaches out, his thumb gently tracing the line of your jaw which sends shivers down your spine.

“I’ve been a damn fool,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, “for fightin’ this… for fightin’ you.”

Your heart ached at his words, at the honesty you had never expected from him.

You had always seen him as a man of few words, someone who hid his true self behind a wall of sarcasm and indifference. But now, as he stood in front of you, you saw the truth in his eyes—the feelings he had tried so hard to deny.

Before you could respond, Arthur closed the distance between you, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both fierce and tender.

The kiss was a heady mix of passion and urgency, a kiss full of the unresolved tension and undeniable attraction that had been building between you.

As the kiss deepens, you feel Arthur’s hand move to tangle in your hair, his fingers gently gripping the strands as he kisses you harder, his body pressing hard against yours.

You respond with equal fervor, your hands fisting in his shirt and pulling him closer before you both pull away for air, breaths labored with his chest rising and falling against yours.

Arthur nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. He begins to trail soft kisses along your neck, his lips barely grazing your skin as his voice drops to a whisper, full of longing and relief.

“Been powerless against you since the moment you joined the gang. Reckon it all started that night at the mansion when we were both after the same prize.”

A low hum escapes him as your fingers thread through his hair, your touch sending shivers down his spine. He nuzzles further into your neck as he continues to mumble against your skin.

“Wanted you so bad, and damn if that don’t scare the absolute life out of me.”

Arthur continues to kiss your neck, his lips moving down to your shoulder as his hands tighten their grip on your hips. The intensity of his touch grows as he pulls you even closer, the heat of his body pressing against yours, enveloping you in a wave of warmth and desire.

You lean in closer, your lips grazing the shell of his ear as you whisper, your voice trembling with the same urgency that you hear in his. “Then stop holding back, Arthur. I want you.”

Your words seem to break whatever last bit of restraint he was clinging to. He lets out a low growl, and before you can even take another breath, his lips crash against yours once more, all fire and desperation. It’s a kiss that sears through you leaving no room for doubt.

Without breaking the kiss, he nudges you back until you feel the edge of the table pressing against the backs of your thighs. In one fluid motion, Arthur’s hands slip from your hips to your waist, lifting you just enough to set you down on the table's surface.

He steps closer, sliding between your legs as his hands grip your hips possessively. You felt his hips pressing insistently against your core, the contact electrifying and intense.

He was achingly hard, a burning pressure that felt almost unbearable through the fabric of your clothes. The heat radiating from him was overwhelming, every shift of his body against yours sending waves of sensation coursing through you.

His hands, rough and calloused from years of hard living, left your waist and slipped under your shirt to savor the softness of your skin. His skilled fingers traced over your ribs before reaching your breasts.

You've never been so glad to not be wearing your chemise underneath your clothes.

You inhaled sharply as he took one of your nipples between his fingers and pinched. "So responsive." Arthur murmurs against your mouth before pulling away and breaking the kiss. You chance a glance at his face, his eyes dark with hunger.

With deliberate slowness, his hands begin their descent, gliding down to your calves, his fingers tracing the curve of your legs.

He caresses your skin, almost reverently, before sliding up to the hem of your skirt. You shiver at the sensation as he pushes the fabric higher, gathering it around your waist, leaving you completely exposed to him.

Arthur’s eyes drink in the sight of you, his gaze heavy with desire. His hands, still lingering on the edge of your skirt, begin to trail slowly up your thighs, his touch careful and teasing.

He pauses just as his fingers brush against the most sensitive part of your skin, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, dark and questioning.

He’s waiting, holding back, as if needing your permission to go further. He doesn't move, his touch achingly close yet frustratingly distant.

"Arthur…" you plead, your voice edged with frustration.

He meets your gaze, lips twitch up in a slight smirk as his eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and challenge. "You can do better than that, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice low and teasing.

You scowl, making him smirk wider, the pressure making your frustration boil over. "Arthur, just—"

His fingers remain tantalizingly still, his eyes locked onto yours with a challenging gleam. The irritation fuels your desperation, and you let out a shaky breath, finally conceding.

"Arthur... please, I need you. I can’t stand it anymore," you say, your voice softened by surrender, the depth of your need evident.

Arthur’s lips curl into a satisfied grin as he hears your plea. He hums with approval and without another word, you watch as he leans down, his mouth finding your core with a fervent intensity, enveloping you in a warm, consuming embrace.

You gasped out as pleasure rippled through you, his name tumbling from your lips. Your fingers fly down to his hair, clenching at the strands and pull him closer as you surrender to the waves of sensation that crash over you.

He groans against you, his lips teasing the sensitive bud before his tongue moves with deliberate, savoring strokes, licking up your wetness. The taste of you lingers, smearing over his lips and dripping down his chin.

You feel his hand move between your thighs, his touch igniting another wave of pleasure as his thumb gently grazes your clit. The added sensation heightens your arousal, making your breath come in short, gasping bursts.

Without warning, he slips one of his fingers inside you, the sensation sending a jolt of intense pleasure through you.

He moves with practiced ease, curling and thrusting as he builds a rhythm that makes you gasp and moan. Each movement is designed to amplify the pleasure he's already delivering, his touch skillfully coaxing you closer to the edge.

“Oh God—Arthur!”

His hands pick up the pace, moving faster and with more pressure, targeting that one sensitive spot inside you while his mouth continues to work on your delicate bud. You tighten around his fingers, feeling your legs start to tremble.

You were at the height of your pleasure, your climax so near it felt like you might explode at any moment. Arthur seems to sense it too, his movements expertly bringing you to the brink.

But just as you're about to come, he abruptly pulls away, smirking down at you. You let out a frustrated whine, your body still trembling from the near climax.

"Why—" you gasp, eyes pleading as you look up at him, your voice a mix of annoyance and need. The sudden halt only intensifies your frustration, making your desire for release even more unbearable.

Arthur leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Don’t worry, darlin’, I ain’t finished yet," he murmurs, his voice a low, gritty whisper. "Wanna feel you wrapped around me when you come."

With a firm, decisive moment, his hands wrap beneath your bum, lifting you effortlessly. He carries you toward the worn couch, his strength palpable as he places you gently but firmly onto the cushions before positioning himself above you, his gaze never leaving yours.

Arthur’s hands move to unbutton his jeans with a practiced ease before shedding them, revealing his lengthy member, its impressive size immediately drawing your wide-eyed attention.

You can’t help but stare, your eyes widening with a mix of awe and anticipation as you take in the full extent of his arousal. The sight of him, so well-endowed and commanding, sends a thrill of excitement through you, and your breath catches in your throat.

Arthur notices your reaction, a grin curling on his lips. He moves closer, his hands firmly cupping your face as he tilts your chin up to meet his gaze, capturing your lips in a deep, urgent kiss.

While his mouth claims yours, his hands move with purpose, deftly working to remove your blouse. You respond eagerly, your hands sliding over his chest and working at the buttons of his shirt until it falls away.

The two of you move with a synchrony of urgency and passion, shedding the rest of your clothes with a desperate need. Each article of clothing is discarded in a flurry of movement, leaving you both bare.

Arthur pauses, his eyes dark and intense as they roam over your bare form with a feral hunger. A low growl escapes his throat, his eyes gleaming with a primal desire.

“Shit,” he rasps, his voice rough and throaty. “Can’t believe I held myself back for so long.” His gaze lingers on you, filled with a raw, unrestrained hunger, as he savors the sight of you completely bare before him.

He wraps your legs around his hips, drawing you closer as he positions himself between you. With one hand gripping himself and the other steadying your leg, he lines himself up, his breath coming in ragged bursts as he looks down at you.

“You ready for this?”

You nod, your eyes locked onto his, filled with a mix of eagerness and anticipation. “Please, Arthur,” you reply, your voice trembling slightly. “I want you.”

Arthur’s lips curl into a fierce, satisfied smile before pressing himself against you and slowly begins to enter you, his gaze never leaving your face as a gasp escapes your lips, your body tensing with the intense sensation.

You arch against him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you adjust to his size. The stretch and pressure of him inside you sends a wave of pleasure through you, your eyes fluttering closed momentarily as you moan out his name.

He growls in response, his face contorted with both pleasure and concentration. “Goddamn you’re so tight.”

His hands tighten on your hips, grip firm and possessive as waits for you to adjust around him. After a moment, you grip his shoulders tighter, your nails digging in as you try to steady yourself.

“Arthur,” you murmur, struggling to control your breath. “I need you to move.”

“You sure, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice dripping with raw desire. His eyes search yours for a sign of hesitation but find only eager need.

“Yes,” you breathe, your voice trembling with urgency. “Please.”

With a satisfied nod, Arthur begins to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one bringing a wave of pleasure that makes your body tremble.

As he finds a rhythm, his movements become more intense and fervent, his eyes never leaving your face. His breathing grows heavier, matching the pace of his thrusts as he drives deeper into you.

“Arthur, please…faster.”

He meets your gaze and with a firm grip, he pushes your leg further back against you, angling himself deeper.

You gasp at the shift, your body arching and gripping him tighter as waves of pleasure crash over you. Each thrust sends a jolt of ecstasy through you, your breaths coming in quick, sharp bursts as you lose yourself in the mounting sensation.

His thrusts become more urgent, each movement sending a jolt of ecstasy through you. “That’s it,” he murmurs between breaths, “let me hear you, sweetheart.”

You moan in response, the sound escaping in a breathless gasp as his relentless pace overwhelms you, crying out his name as your voice trembles with pleasure.

Arthur’s eyes darken with desire, and he groans deeply. He takes your face in his hand, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips. his gaze intently fixed on you, taking in every reaction, every flush of pleasure, driving him wild.

He can’t help but be captivated by the way you look at him, your gaze locking onto his with a mix of urgency and raw longing.

He’s not going to last long. Not when you look at him like that.

Arthur pushes your leg further back, nearly folding you in half as his thrusts become rougher and more intense, driving into you with a forceful rhythm. Each thrust relentlessly hits the spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You feel yourself tighten around him, eliciting a deep groan from him.

His hand slips between your bodies, his fingers finding the sensitive bundle of nerves at your core and begins to apply a firm, rhythmic pressure, his touch syncing with the hard, relentless pace of his thrusts.

“Arthur,” you moan, your voice a mixture of desperation and bliss.

Arthur grits his teeth, the effort to maintain control clear on his face. “Come on, sweetheart, let go for me… Wanna feel ya,” he growls, his voice thick with desire and urgency.

The combined stimulation of his touch and his relentless thrusting pushes you toward the edge, your body quaking as the waves of pleasure crest and crash over you. His words, laced with raw need, tip you over that edge, breaking the last of your control.

You let go completely, surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure as you tremble and gasp in his grasp, your body responding to his every command.

“That’s it,” Arthur growls, his voice rough with pleasure. “Good girl. Feels so good squeezing around me… there we go.”

He moves his hands to your hips, his own breathing ragged as he feels you tighten and convulse around him. He continues to drive into you through the waves of pleasure, his thrusts becoming even more urgent and relentless. You cry out, the sensation overwhelming.

Finally, with a groan of his own, he thrusts deep one last time before pulling out, taking his length into his hand. His body shudders, breath coming in rough, uneven gasps as he finds his release, spilling onto your stomach as the tension finally breaks.

He collapses onto you, his breath ragged and heavy, both of you trying to catch your breaths. After a while, you gently pat him, feeling the weight of him pressing down on you, and he lets out a breathy chuckle, his eyes half-lidded with contentment.

Arthur stands up and grabs the shirt he was wearing, using it to wipe the evidence of his release from your stomach and his. His touch is tender despite the intensity of the moment.

Once he’s finished, he lays back down beside you, pulling you into his arms. With a gentle but firm motion, he adjusts to create enough room for both of you on the worn couch.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you settle against him, the warmth of his body providing a soothing contrast to the earlier intensity.

“You alright there?” he asks, his voice soft and slightly teasing as he runs a hand soothingly along your arm.

You nod, your head resting against his shoulder, feeling a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you reply, your voice a bit breathless. “Just needed a moment.”

Arthur chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Can’t say I’m sorry we didn’t do this sooner,” he murmurs, his tone filled with genuine warmth.

You smile, your eyes closing as you let yourself relax into his embrace. “Me neither,” you whisper, feeling the comfort of his presence. “Guess it’s a good thing we finally did.”

A comfortable silence envelops you both, the warmth of the fire crackling softly in the background. As you settle into the quiet, the room is filled with a tranquil intimacy.

The gentle heat from the fire and the flickering light cast a soft glow over your resting forms, guiding you both into a peaceful rest.

The next morning, the sunlight filtering through the cracks in the curtains gently warms your face, coaxing you awake from your slumber.

You blink, slightly disoriented, and notice a quilt draped over you—a cozy, unexpected comfort that you don’t remember covering yourself with.

You stretch out and sit up, searching for Arthur, but find that he’s no longer beside you. The space next to you is empty, leaving only the lingering warmth of his presence and the faint scent of him in the air.

You wrap the quilt around you before making your way to the bedroom, where you begin to get dressed in your now-dry clothes.

As you finish getting dressed, you head outside, still wondering where Arthur could be. Opening the front door, you’re startled to find him now dressed in his own clothes and standing with both your horses.

He’s feeding his horse calmly, the sight of the horses safe and sound, along with Arthur’s relaxed demeanor, fills you with a mix of relief and surprise.

He looks up, catching your gaze with a casual, knowing smile, clearly at ease despite the unexpected circumstances.

“Mornin’, sorry I didn’t want to wake ya,” he says, his voice warm and relaxed.

You blink, still processing the sight before you. “Wait, how did you find the horses? They ran off during that chase,” you ask, your voice filled with surprise and confusion.

Arthur grins, a touch of pride in his eyes. “Managed to track ’em down this mornin’. They’d wandered off a ways but were easy enough to follow. Took a bit of patience, but I got ’em back here safe and sound.” He pats one of the horses affectionately.

You let out a relieved laugh, shaking your head in amazement. “Well, I’m definitely grateful. I wasn’t sure how we’d get them back.

Arthur gives you a casual nod, his eyes still carrying a hint of satisfaction. “We should probably think about getting back to camp soon. Can’t say Dutch’ll be too happy about us comin’ back empty-handed.”

You frown slightly, your mind starting to turn over the implications. “Yeah, he might not be too pleased about that.”

Suddenly, something clicks in your mind, your expression brightening with realization. You make your way to your horse, patting her affectionately as you reach her.

You move to the saddlebag and start fishing around inside before pulling out a small pouch. Arthur watches you with curiosity as you open it, revealing the jewelry you had remembered stuffing inside. With a proud smile, you show it to Arthur, the glint of the gems catching the light.

Arthur raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Well… that’s a nice surprise. Turns out we’re not comin’ back empty-handed after all.”

He glances at the jewelry, then back at you. “Good thinking.”

You tuck the pouch back into the saddlebag, feeling a surge of relief. “At least we’ve got something to make up for the trouble.”

Arthur shifts, his expression turning serious. “Listen, uh… everything I said last night—I meant it. I care about you, you know.”

You look at him, a soft smile forming on your lips. “I know.”

He pulls you close, and you share a tender kiss, the warmth and reassurance evident in the moment. When you pull away, you give him a playful nudge. “Now, let’s get back to camp.”

Arthur grins, nodding as he mounts his horse. “Lead the way.”

After a few hours of steady travel, you finally crest through the dense woods and emerge into the open area of Shady Belle.

As you draw closer, you hear John’s voice call out from his post. “Who’s there?”

Arthur raises a hand in greeting, his tone slightly exasperated. “It’s just us two, you idiot.”

John approaches with a grin, clearly relieved to see familiar faces. “Well, well, look who’s back! Didn’t think you’d make it this time.”

His gaze shifts to you, and he notices the cut on your forehead. “What happened there?” he asks, his tone shifting to one of concern.

“It’s nothing, just a little mishap,” you reply with a shrug and a small reassuring smile.

John nods, still eyeing the cut with a concerned look. Before he can respond, the sound of Dutch’s voice cuts through the air.

“There they are!” Dutch strides forward with Hosea, catching the attention of the other gang members. The atmosphere shifts to one of eager anticipation as they approach to welcome you both back.

Arthur and you quickly hitch your horses, and Dutch’s eyes light up with a mix of relief and curiosity.

“You two look like you’ve had quite the adventure,” he says with a grin. “Let’s hear what you’ve got for us.”

You and Arthur follow Dutch and Hosea inside the house, nodding to the other members who offer warm welcomes at your arrival.

Once inside, the four of you make your way outside to the terrace to discuss the details. The afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the camp, and you all settle into a comfortable spot.

Hosea’s eyes shift to the cut on your forehead. “You alright?” he asks, his tone filled with concern.

You give a small nod, trying to brush off the worry. “I’ll be alright. Can’t say about the coach, though.”

Hosea raises an eyebrow, his expression turning thoughtful. “The coach, huh? Did something go wrong?”

“The job went well initially. Arthur and I got what we needed, but then things went sideways on the way back.”

Arthur picks up the story, his voice steady. “We ran into trouble. More guards came in hot on our heels, forcing us into some rough terrain. Lost the coach, and then we ended up falling into a river with it.”

You chime in, “The river swept the coach away, taking all the loot with it. We couldn’t salvage anything.”

Dutch’s expression falls. “So, you lost it all?”

Arthur nods, looking apologetic. “Yeah. We couldn’t recover the goods.”

Dutch’s face reflects a mix of disappointment and frustration. “Well, that’s a shame. We coulda used that haul. Least you two are alright, though.”

Hosea tries to lighten the mood. “We’ll bounce back from this. The important thing is that you made it back safely. We’ll sort out the rest.”

Arthur reaches into his satchel and pulls out the small pouch of jewelry from you and a few clipped bundles of cash. He holds them up with a faint, reassuring smile.

“Well, we didn’t lose everything. Reckon this might help make up for it.”

Arthur hands Hosea the pouch, and Hosea inspects its contents. “With this and the cash we got, I’d say we’re lookin’ at around 800. That should help us get back on our feet.”

Dutch’s eyes light up with relief as he takes in the sight of the recovered items. “Well, that’s a right bit of luck in the middle of all this mess. Better than nothin’.”

Arthur nods, looking somewhat relieved. “Didn’t want to come back here and leave y’all thinkin’ we came up empty.”

Dutch claps Arthur on the shoulder, his mood lifting a bit. “Appreciate that. Let’s get this sorted and move on. We’ve got plenty of work ahead of us.”

Hosea looks over at you and Arthur with a nod of approval. “I gotta hand it to you both. Despite the rough patch, you came through. Good work out there.”

With that, Dutch and Hosea start discussing plans to distribute the recovered items and strategize the next steps.

Over the next few days, the gang once again begins to notice something distinctly different about you and Arthur.

It’s not just the absence of shouting and tension, but a new, subtle intimacy that marks a significant shift in how you interact. While the first change was notable, this time it's even more pronounced.

Although you and Arthur have kept your more intimate moments away from the prying eyes of the gang, there’s a palpable difference in the way you connect.

You’re often seen sharing quiet conversations, laughing together, and engaging in playful banter, with soft touches and exchanged smiles now part of your interactions. The closeness between you is evident, and it piques the gang’s curiosity once more.

Speculation runs rife among the camp members about the nature of your evolving relationship. They observe the affectionate gestures and tender glances, each theory more imaginative than the last.

Despite the growing curiosity, you and Arthur continue to maintain your privacy. When questioned or approached, you both respond with a mix of amused indifference and casual deflection.

You shrug off the gossip with lighthearted comments or evasive answers, enjoying the newfound closeness while keeping the details of your relationship to yourselves.

On this particular day, while you were engaged in a chore, you overheard Arthur speaking to Dutch, asking why he kept pairing the two of you together despite your apparent dislike for each other.

You glance over from your place, noting how Dutch seems genuinely puzzled by the question.

“It wasn’t really my call,” Dutch says with a shrug. “That was all Hosea’s idea. I didn’t rightly agree with him and don’t know why the hell he was so insistent or thought it was a good idea, but I just went along with it.”

Arthur’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Both your attention shifts to Hosea, who is currently sitting nearby, absorbed in reading a newspaper.

Despite his apparent focus on the paper, you notice a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He doesn’t look up or acknowledge you both, but his expression clearly suggests he’s pleased with the outcome of his decision.

The revelation leaves you and Arthur with a mix of emotions, but the smirk on Hosea’s face makes it clear that he knew exactly what he was doing.

254 notes · View notes

zepskies · 3 months ago

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Lost on You - Part 4

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: Ben claims his prize…

Word Count: 5.4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for suggestiveness. Cheating (technically), more cat and mouse seduction, cracks in the masks, and a cat fight.

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Part 4: Better Shape Up

Who knew this man could be such a damn tease. You wouldn’t have thought him capable, for someone who wasn’t used to waiting for anything he wanted.

He demonstrated his resolve on a morning where you thought it safe to venture down to the gym. The others typically didn’t surface until around noon at least, so the morning was your time to work out and train in peace.

Today, Ben was already here. He was dressed down in a loose gray shirt and a pair of sweatpants and combat boots. He had already worked up a sweat and was now doing some impressive leg curls.

You tried not to linger your gaze on the exposed muscles of his arms and the outline of his broad back, but you slipped by him to claim a treadmill after offering him a polite good morning.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen you in here,” he remarked.

You shot him a glance. “I like the quiet in the morning.”

“Matter of fact, you don’t go out of your way to hang out with anyone else on the team,” he said, as if you hadn’t answered.

He was right, but the fact that he’d noticed that about you was interesting. It proved he had his eyes on you, in more ways than one.

“Smart,” he added. “The others are dipshits.”

You smiled in amusement. You were inclined to agree.

Well, most of them, anyway. Crimson Countess was smarter than he gave her credit for, and you were sure Mindstorm was as well, even if he was a hermit.

Once you finished your cardio, you caught your breath with a few sips from the water fountain and found a small towel to wipe at your face and arms. Afterwards, you moved to the mats to stretch out. Yoga was one of the exercises that not only cooled you down and kept you limber after a workout, but it also helped you focus your internal world.

Sometimes it wasn’t easy being able to sense so many male presences around you, along with their baser emotions. It had taken several years of honing your mind and your powers to be able to spread your awareness only when you wanted to. But some energies were just too difficult to ignore.

You raised your hands high above your head, then bent at the waist to lower them all the way to the ground. From there, you walked your hands out across the mat into a downward dog pose.

As you moved through your yoga routine, you could feel a hot stare on your ass. You almost smiled to yourself.

By now, your companion had shifted to a different machine, working on his arms. After a few minutes, you heard the heavy clink of metal on metal. You looked over and saw that he’d finished, dropping the truly massive dumbbells on either side of his legs. He sat at the machine for a moment, catching his breath. His skin was glistening with a fine layer of sweat.

He pointed over to a water bottle that lied on the floor, a few feet away.

“Mind grabbing that for me, sweetheart?” he asked.

That request was harmless enough. You went over and grabbed it for him, your warm hands brushing his on the tradeoff. You meant to turn and head for the showers, but your foot got caught on one of the dumbbells. You gasped and nearly went down when you tripped.

Ben stood and hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you into his solid form. You grabbed onto his arms on reflex. You felt sweat under your palms and between your fingers, smelled his musky, masculine scent. Your breasts were brushing his chest with every breath.

And all the while, he looked down at you like he was thinking about devouring you. You felt his desire.

Instead, he smiled and let you go.

“You okay?” he asked.

Your brain short-circuited for a minute.

“Um, y-yeah. Thanks,” you said. Your hands slipped away from his arms, and you slowly turned and walked away. You almost stopped at the showers like you intended, but at the last second, you thought better of it and kept going all the way back up to your room.

Ben watched you go with a smirk, admiring your ass in those yoga pants.

You knew your plan was working, even with all his antics. You could ultimately use his interest in you to your advantage: for your career.

The plan had started forming the second you met him in that breakroom, and was only reinforced by Countess's superiority and general bitchiness toward you...

But you also thought that man was affecting you far more than you’d like to admit.

So you tried your best to give yourself a break from him. You trained on your own, and only engaged in minor small talk with your fellow teammates whenever you crossed paths with them; even Black Noir, the only person you’d been able to share some genuine conversation with.

You’d sensed the friction between him and Ben, and as unfair and often cruel as you thought it was, you didn’t want to give the latter a reason to resent you. It would only muddle your plans. For that matter, you tried to stay out of Countess’s way as well.

Throughout it all, you began to realize that you were even more alone than you thought you would be in this Tower.

However, your excitement bubbled up again when Arthur called you up to his office. He seemed excited too, which already had you gripped with anticipation. You were hungry to prove yourself, and also to jump on a project. Any project that they might give you to advance your career and increase your exposure to the public.

“I happened to show Soldier Boy that clip you sent in with your audition. The video of your off-the-cuff duet with Whitney Houston at that live show? Now, it was a little fuzzy. Looked like it was filmed with a kid’s Kodak, but whatever. It was brilliant.”

You smiled genuinely. “Thank you.”

Arthur nodded. “Well, Soldier Boy agrees that you’re impressive. And he’s been chomping at the bit for something new. So, I talked to Madelyn and the rest of the team, and we think you two should do a duet together. A cover.”

You blinked a bit wider. “O-Oh, really? Of what?”

“You remember ‘You’re the One That I Want,’ by John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John?”

“From Grease?” you asked with furrowed brows. That movie was like, five years old already. But you did see the previews for a new movie John and Olivia just did together, Two of a Kind. It was set to come out later this year.

“Exactly,” Arthur said, pointing at you. “It could be bigger than the movie!”

You doubted that, but it was still a great opportunity for you. Exactly the kind you’d been waiting for.

There was just one problem.

“And…what about Crimson Countess? You think she’ll be okay with this?” you asked. “She hasn’t exactly warmed up to me.”

Arthur sighed, but he waved a dismissive brow.

“Let us handle that part. At the end of the day, she understands this is all business here. No one’s gettin’ married.”

You laughed politely while hiding a sliver of unease. You agreed to the idea, but if Ben had a hand in this at all, you had a feeling you knew what he was up to.

You showed up early to the studio on a Tuesday morning. Ben, of course, was an hour late. You two had already pre-recorded your vocal parts separately, so today started the filming for your version of the music video.

You were already getting ruby red lipstick painted on your lips, when Ben stumbled into the hair and makeup trailer.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he rumbled in your direction.

“Good morning,” you replied cordially, though you watched him out of the corner of your eye.

He was nursing a tremendous hangover, by the looks of it. If it wouldn’t ruin your stylist’s concentration, you would shake your head in exasperation. Could he take nothing seriously?

Angela, his stylist, began by cleaning his face with an exfoliator wipe. She spread some primer on first before she went for the foundation. He stopped her with a raise of his hand and a halting sound in his throat.

“Make me a little more tan today, eh, doll face. You washed me out last time,” he said, slapping her on the ass. Angela jolted, but she gave him a practiced smile.

“No problem, Soldier Boy.” She swapped the foundation in her hand for a warmer shade.

You barely managed to stop yourself from frowning. Asshole.

Another half hour later, you were ushered out of the makeup trailer and into the dressing room. By the time you stepped out, you were transformed fully into Sandy Olsson, Olivia Newton-John’s character in Grease, complete with the skin-tight black jumpsuit.

You were reenacting one of the final songs of the movie—the moment where Sandy drops her prim and proper upbringing to show Danny that she could live in his “edgier” world, if he was willing to step up, or shape up, for her as a man.

Vought had the money to create a truly impressive set. You stepped out towards the stage and looked around at all the people, not to mention the expensive-looking equipment on this production. You had been on big stages before, but not as the leading lady. This was big, and you could admit, it was intimidating.

Ben soon joined you, looking very much the part with a real cigarette in hand as he blew out smoke. He was made to look like John Travolta’s character, of course. His brown hair was neatly coiffed and gelled back. He was wearing a tight black shirt tucked into a pair of black slacks, with five o’clock shadow dusting his cheeks. You were a little surprised he was agreeing to something like this…but you also had a hunch on what was motivating him.

A grin soon spread across his face. You averted your eyes, surprising yourself by the way your face warmed. However briefly it was, he’d caught you checking him out.

He returned the favor. His gaze lingered on your every curve, and finally your face.

“Lookin’ good, baby doll,” he said mildly, but he leaned over to whisper in your ear. “I’m gonna be thinking about those red lips tonight.”

Your lips pursed as you watched him walk away with his usual smooth, arrogant stride. You refused to feel how hot your face was. Instead, you relaxed your shoulders and raised your chin before you stepped onto the stage with him.

The director came over to talk you both through the script and his vision for the music video, a scene by scene replica of the fairgrounds. (And he handed Ben an ashtray for his cigarette.)

The opening scene was already set up. The pack of actors playing Danny Zuko’s friends were hanging off to the side, while a handful of young women in 1950s style dresses hung out on the other side, waiting for you.

The director called to roll sound. A production assistant handed you a fake cigarette to hold between your fingers, just like the original movie scene. Other instructions were shouted out as you stared into the cameras blankly. Your body felt stiff, your mouth heavy.

You were nervous, no matter how much you didn’t want to acknowledge it.

“Hey,” came a deep voice in your ear.

You turned to Ben and tried to hide your anxiety. He smiled and once again leaned in close. You felt the warm pressure of his hand on your lower back.

“You’ve seen cameras before. Don’t even look at ‘em. They’re not there,” he said, encouraging you to use your imagination.

You took a subtle breath. “And the thirty-something crew of people?”

“They’re the audience,” he said. “This is just a stage, like the ones you’ve been on before. Even smaller.”

You nodded subtly and tried to calm the ball of nerves rising into your throat. You made your way over to your mark and got ready with a hand on your hip, and the prop cigarette poised in the other. Ben went to his mark, with the other Greasers.

Ben smirked at you. “Remember to sing pretty.”

You shot him a teasing smile back.

“Oh, don’t worry. When I sing, people listen.”

I got chills, they’re multiplying. And I’m losing control.

‘Cause the power you’re supplying…

It’s electrifying.

He might not have had Travolta’s range, but Ben was a decent singer himself. It was rich and baritone, occasionally with some edge. They’d lowered the song down a key for him, you noticed, but you didn’t mind.

It was all you could do to remember the choreography, all while feeling the push and pull of the music, the lyrics, and the man himself. He was also making some subtle changes to the character in his performance.

“I’m not dragging myself across the fucking ground after her like some love-sick pussy,” as he’d snapped at the director.

So he was applying a more suave approach to Danny’s role, trying to persuade you with a Cary Grant-like charm. Partnered with your sensuous persona, it gave the bouncy song some new depth.

You better shape up, ‘cause I need a man.

And my heart is set on you…

It took a few hours to get through the first scenes, and you found that you and Ben worked well together. But his attention on you was intense whenever he looked into your eyes. His every small touch ignited across your skin, eliciting tingles of electricity down your spine.

When you finally got to your first verse after the chorus, you were up on one of the carnival ride platforms. Painted on one of the walls was Danger Ahead.

If you’re filled with affection, you’re too shy to convey…

Per the choreography, Ben followed you up a short flight of stairs and cornered you against a wall. You pivoted on your heels and felt bold enough to improvise. You drew him in with a hand on his stubbled cheek, and you allowed your eyes to shine with a bit of your power, giving them a violet glow.

Meditate on my direction. Feel your way…

As you sang, his hands glided up the swell of your hips and gripped you tight at the waist. His gaze lowered to your lips. You could smell his musky cologne mixed with cigarette smoke as he began to lean in. Your mouth parted unconsciously.

“Cut!” the director shouted.

The music stopped and a sharp bell rang out. You paused, letting your hand fall away from Ben’s cheek. He reluctantly released you as well. You eased away from him with a smile.

“All right! That was great guys,” the director chimed in cheerfully after he came out from behind the network of cameras. “Tell you what, let’s break for lunch.”

You sensed the burning presence following you off the stage, just a few feet behind. It shadowed you all the way to your trailer.

The moment you opened the door and stepped inside, you weren’t all that surprised when Ben grabbed your hand and turned you around into his arms. You stifled a small gasp.

“What’re you doing?” you asked, despite knowing full fucking well.

He was no longer teasing as his eyes swept down to your cherry red lips.

“I’m claiming my prize,” he said, his voice sinful and deep.

He bent down to capture you in a demanding kiss. You breathed in, and allowed yourself to give into it. Your hands slid up his arms, then wound up into his hair. He devoured you deeper with each new glide of his lips against yours, his hold on your waist moving down your hips and gripping your ass.

He mostly carried you as he guided you back against the wall of the trailer. His hand slapped against it to brace your impact, making the wall tremble. You gasped into his mouth at the suddenness of it, and he took the opportunity to taste you deeper, slipping his tongue against yours. He relished every small sound you made, and every part of you he got his hands on.

Until he broke from you suddenly, allowing you to catch your breath. You couldn’t help but blink up at him in a bit of surprise while you recovered. His smile was smug looking down at you.

“That was more than a kiss,” you said. Thank God you sounded steadier than you felt.

Ben chuckled and leaned in closer again, this time letting his lips drift across your cheek, and down your neck.

“And I promise I’m good with my hands,” he said in your ear.

You fought not to shudder at the depths in his voice. Your internal alarm finally sounded, however, when one of his hands left your hip to slip along the inside of your thigh. He stroked a thumb between your legs, over the silky leather of your pants. Your core pulsed with anticipation, but this wasn’t part of the plan. Not yet.

You tensed up and grabbed his wrist.

“Ben,” you warned in a gasp, issuing a trill of power on reflex.

Stop.

The unspoken command laced through him. He paused with a tense look, but not just because of your powers. He saw the sliver of fear in your eyes. He frowned.

For your part, you honestly didn’t mean to compel him this time. Your eyes widened, your mouth pressed into a line.

Part of you was afraid, but not for the reasons he might’ve thought. It was a delicate game you were playing with this man. And like it or not, even though you had the power to stop him if he tried to take it any farther, his influence still had power over your career.

“The fuck is your problem? You’re running hot and cold on me,” he snarked. But he relaxed, taking a step away from you. You released his wrist.

“I meant what I said,” you said. “Look, you’re helping me out a lot by doing this music video, and I appreciate that. More than you know.”

Your tone was gentle as you attempted to soothe his ego, but your words had the added benefit of being true.

“I’m still the new kid here,” you added. “Countess already thinks I’m trying to take her place.”

Which, at this point, you could admit that you were in a way. You had a feeling that she’d been using Ben the same way you were—to enhance her status and cement her position in Payback.

He rolled his eyes. “She doesn’t have to know.”

You broke into a small smile, crossing your arms at him.

“Come on, Ben.”

His face became taciturn. You tried to gouge his reaction with your abilities, and you sensed his irritation underneath. He was likely trying to curb every inclination he had to give a nasty retort and hold onto the charm, but he was also starting to lose patience.

“So what the fuck do you want from me?” he snapped.

You held your tongue for a moment. You knew that whatever you said, whatever you did next could either make or break your plans to be successful. Still, no matter how much you actually wanted to give in to the desire in his eyes, you didn’t just want to be the equivalent of his mistress, or one of his forgettable conquests. That would make sure you remained on the sidelines forever.

No. The only way this worked was if he broke up with Countess for real.

You stepped in close to him again. With slow moments, you rested your hands on his chest and leaned up, as if to give him a sensuous kiss. You stop just shy of his lips. He grasped your hips on instinct.

“If you really want me, you can have me,” you purred. Though you pulled away when he bent down to kiss you. You lowered back down to your heels.

“Just me,” you said. “I like you, Ben, but if you really do love Crimson Countess and want to…work it out with her, I understand.”

You crossed your arms. His jaw ticked in annoyance.

“They’re gonna have to fix your face,” he remarked with a gesturing finger. “Looks like you sucked off Ronald McDonald.”

Your mouth fell open in shock. You turned to look at yourself in the large mirror on the far wall, and sure enough, your pretty red lipstick was smeared all around your mouth. When you turned back to find Ben’s more amused grin, you glared at him, feeling a hot blush coming on. Pink smudges stained his lips and chin as well.

“Yeah, well, you too, Casanova,” you say pointedly. “You look like a…a fucking clown!”

It was lame, you could admit.

He just laughed and strolled out of your trailer. You huffed and crossed your arms.

He was goddamn insufferable.

Challenges of sexual tension aside, the music video turned out to be a great success. It wasn’t a perfect frame by frame rendition of the movie, but you recreated many of the scenes at the carnival, especially the one at the end. Ben actually hit the High Striker bell so hard that it flew through the roof of the studio.

Maybe getting out some pent-up frustration there.

The video would later get splashed across MTV and all the Vought channels. It piggybacked on the publicity from your first couple of saves with Payback that finally made it to the news.

It all did wonders for your popularity, especially because the reviews on the video were mostly positive—not only for the production and the quality of the vocals, but also for the chemistry between “Soldier Boy and Sirena.”

It just had the predictable side effect of making Countess even bitchier toward you, if that were possible. To a point, you couldn’t fault her. You and Ben did have chemistry on-screen, and she was smart enough to guess at your chemistry off-screen as well. She probably already thought you two were fucking.

You knew the truth, but you also knew it was useless to try and change her mind—hers, and everyone else who gave you sidelong looks when they thought you didn’t notice. Maybe you should’ve just done it with him anyway, if people were going to think it was true no matter what you did.

The only one who congratulated you on your success with any sincerity was your brother.

“I’m proud of you, sis. You’re really doing great,” Chris said.

You shed a couple of tears on the phone with him before hastily changing the subject, asking about your nephew. He’d made a new friend at preschool.

“Aww. Lisa, huh?” you teased. “Is she gonna be his new little girlfriend?”

“Well, she shared her box of crayons and he gave her half of his oatmeal cream pie at lunch, so they’re off to a great start,” Chris joked. You were happy to hear it, and you promised to send him another gift signed by Soldier Boy soon.

After you hung up with your brother, the next call you made was to your dad. Except, you never even got the chance to mention the video.

“How’s Mom doing?” you asked.

“Well, I was actually going to call you,” your dad said. “She’s uh, she’s not doing well… It’s time, honey.”

Your breath stilled in your lungs. You almost didn’t hear his next words: that your mother had been transferred to hospice this morning. That she had a matter of days, and you should come home as soon as you could. You promised that you would.

And suddenly, you remembered every promise you’d given your parents over the past couple of months to go see them, have dinner with them. You remembered that you’d never made good on any of those promises.

Your ears were ringing after you hung up with him. You wiped your tears away.

In your dissociative state, you went to your desk and looked at your calendar to see what was next on the painstaking daily schedule you crafted for yourself. Instead of packing a bag or calling Arthur to try and negotiate some time off, you donned some activewear and went down to the breakroom.

You shoveled some oatmeal into your mouth that you didn’t even taste. Then you went to start your morning routine at the gym.

To your unpleasant surprise, Crimson Countess was there. She was running on the treadmill you usually took. You barely glanced her way as you passed by, aiming for an elliptical instead.

She smiled and tsked. “Oh, honey. That’s one rough looking hangover.”

You turned to her and tried to hide your annoyance. Your eyes were likely red rimmed from crying, not from a bender.

“You should drink more water,” she said, gesturing with a finger around her face. “Might help with the bags under your eyes.”

You sucked in your cheeks and pursed your lips. An irrational anger, dark and deep, roiled in your gut.

“Maybe you can give me the number of your surgeon too,” you shot back. “That’s how you got those plastic tits, right?”

Countess visibly paused, like she hadn’t expected you to hit back. You normally just took whatever snide remarks she made with a smile, as if it were a joke (or at worse, a look of nonchalance). Today was not that day.

She turned off her machine and slowed to a stop.

“No, but I do know someone who can suck the cellulite out of your ass,” she said snidely. She grabbed a water bottle up from the floor and took a sip. You hopped off your own machine and smacked the bottle out of her hand. It made water spill down the front of her red sports bra.

“Tell me, Donna. As the most senior female superhero in Payback, how does it feel to be every man’s guilty pleasure jerk off material?” you sniped.

That managed to strike a nerve. She sneered at you.

“That’s right, honey. Everyone in the world knows who I am,” she said with a haughty look. Her eyes were cold and cruel. “The only way someone’s gonna remember you is exactly how you got here. On your fucking knees.”

She shoved at your shoulders, pushing you back a couple of steps. Your temper finally snapped.

“Oh really? The only reason people know you is because you’re fucking the ‘boss,’” you said, air quotes included. Then you laughed. “The Sonny and Cher routine? Please. Soldier Boy doesn’t love you. He doesn’t even fucking respect you. And you let him walk all over you. Because it keeps you exactly where you want to be. On your knees, sucking off the oldest dick in the world.”

You could see how your words were cutting into her, making her seethe. Her hand came up swiftly with a slap across your face. She was strong. The force behind the hit made you stumble again, but this time, you weren’t holding back. You threw a punch that caught her on the side of her nose. (And for the record, that one actually was fake.)

It soon devolved into a petty, dirty, angry fight, complete with hair pulling, punching, and a kick to the stomach that sent Countess onto her back on the hardwood floor.

The gym doors opened to Ben and Gunpowder rushing in. They must’ve heard the commotion, because they were already on alert. Ben’s face was set with a frown while he watched you squared up on the mats. Your opponent was slowly getting to her feet, huffing and puffing with rage.

Your eyes widened when Countess raised her hands, and a red glow of energy materialized. She tossed a red hot fireball in your direction. You dove across the mat to avoid it, but it vaporized half the gym equipment on your side of the room. You twisted your ankle badly on the way down as well.

While Ben intervened and stopped Countess from hurling another fireball, Gunpowder went to you.

“You okay?” he asked. He reached out a hand to you, but stopped short, like he was afraid of your touch. You were dismayed, but you grimaced and tried to help yourself up. You’d fallen onto another exercise machine and one side of your ribs felt battered.

Meanwhile, Ben whirled Countess around by her arm and glared down at her.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” he raised his voice.

She was still livid as she tried to yank her arm out of his grasp. She pointed at you where you lied on the floor.

“Are you fucking her?!” she yelled.

He blinked in surprise, but he quickly recovered.

“What’s the matter with you? Of course not!” he bellowed. “Jesus fuck. Forget to take your damn crazy pills today?”

At that, she looked stricken. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she pinched the bridge of her nose.

“They’re not…I suffer from migraines,” she said.

“Yeah, well, do us all a favor and take a handful,” Ben groused. “Better yet, the whole goddamn bottle.”

You somehow managed to pull yourself to your feet. Gunpowder was useless, since he was wary of touching you. Really? Does he think I’m going to hijack his mind right here and now?

It hurt, but you hopped from machine to ruined machine in attempt to get out of the room. Ben started toward you. You held a hand up to stop him.

“I’m okay,” you said shakily. “I don’t need help.”

At this point, you were done being reckless. You didn’t want to give Countess any more ammunition against you.

You managed to limp your way out of the gym and down the hall to the sound of Ben’s shouting, versus Countess’s enraged crying.

“I know you’re fucking her. You want to know why? Because you fuck anything with a pulse!”

“Christ on a cross, I can’t talk to a hysterical woman.”

You shook your head, despite the tears burning in your eyes. You felt your way down the wall like a one-legged crab.

Until a strong pair of arms scooped you up under your legs and around your back.

You gasped and met a masked Black Noir.

Without a word, he carried you up to your room. There he set you on your feet, in front of your door. You braced yourself with a hand on the doorknob, but you carefully twisted around to look back at him.

“Thank you,” you said with a sniff.

He paused. You sensed his uncertainty.

“Feel better,” he said.

Then he left you alone in the hall.

You took the longest hot bath of your life, dumping in half a bottle of lavender bath soaks. It helped your aches and pains, but it still didn’t manage to wash the day away.

I need to go home, you were reminded. You needed to see your mom, before…

You covered your face with your hands, and you finally allowed yourself to cry.

Back in the gym, Ben cut off Donna's enraged rant with a sharp grip on her arm. He shook her once, hard enough to make her teeth click. It startled a gasp out of her.

She looked up at him and couldn’t entirely hide her fear.

“Get a goddamn grip,” he growled. “Never fucking disrespect me like that again. And if you make another mess like this, so help me God, you’re gonna leave me no choice but to make you regret it. Do you understand me?”

It took her a moment, but after he tightened his grip on her arms, she winced and nodded contritely.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Ben,” she stammered. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

He rolled his eyes, but he released her. “Good. Go clean yourself up. You’re a fucking mess.”

He left her in the gym where she stood, still holding herself.

Ben frowned when he didn’t find you in the hallway. At the pace you were going, you couldn’t have gotten that far, he reasoned. But he still didn’t find you, even when he traveled to the elevators and up to your apartment. He stopped in front of your door.

He raised his fist up, poised to knock, but his superior hearing perked up to a sound.

He realized he could hear you crying. The kind of muffled sobs where you were trying to hold yourself back, and were failing miserably.

Ben hesitated…but ultimately, he couldn’t handle two emotional women in one day.

He walked away from your door.

AN: *Sighs* Ben isn't shaping up, is he? Don't worry though. We've still got plenty of track left to go on this rollercoaster.

Next Time:

An album was playing on his record player. You recognized Sinatra’s smooth voice singing “My Way.”

“You want a drink?” Ben asked.

“Whiskey, neat,” you replied. He rose a brow, but he fulfilled your request. While he was busy, you grabbed his forgotten half a blunt from the ashtray on the coffee table, and you lit up. You didn’t often partake in drugs because you didn’t like being out of your lucid mind. You preferred being in control.

Today was different. You needed a distraction. Maybe that was why you were here to begin with.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 5

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@leigh70 @kmc1989 @ghostslillady @siampie @jessjad

@beautyvaliant @mimaria420 @kaleldobrev @pieandmonsters @twinkleinadiamondsky

@stoneyggirl2 @sl33pylilbunny @spnfamily-j2 @mostlymarvelgirl @artemys-ackles

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randomstoryenjoyer · 1 year ago

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Hey I love your stories and your 'white lily's fall' gave me an idea for a request...for a story!

Imagine a witch (y/n) at first baked cookies to try to make a friend but as they kept running away...it gave y/n an idea! If they run away...why not make a track and make em race? So now y/n bakes them to either run a normal race or an obstacle course race to the window to escape amd y/n even put something under their window to cushion their fall so they wouldn't crumble and can simply run out to join the cookie world! Also the obstacles are harmless and not deadly like if they fail an obstacle, they just land on something soft and can walk over to some stairs or a ladder and try again! Ofcourse the finish line is the window!

Oh and whenever they race, y/n chooses one cookie to cheer on as they sit to the side, watching, and hopes that said cookie wins the race...again for entertainment! Maybe they even pretend to be a racing announcer as they race!

And imagine if other cookies found out...like, one possible idea is DE flying along, plotting against the witches when they suddenly hear hearing like: "AAAAAND RED ICING COOKIE MANAGED TO JUMP OVER THAT MASSIVE GAP! SO IMPRESSIVE! THE CROWD IS GOING WILD!" followed by y/n trying to impersonate a crowd cheering like crazy! So DE goes to investigate aaaaand finds Y/n racing cookies instead of eating them! Or maybe some other cookie like gingerbrave finds them! Just some ideas but can't wait to see what you come up with for this concept and curious what ideas you'll have lol!

Possible to add on, putting this possible add on here incase ya wanna add it: Y/n also keeps track of the races and the winners in a book and also timed it to see which cookie they've baked is the fastest and if a cookie read the book, they'll know that y/n raced cookies LOTS of times!

The Witch’s game

Rugelach Cookie’s breath hitched as they swerved left to right, their little legs scuttering as fast as they ever had before… he was so close to the end… all that was left was to…

”AAAAAND TRAGEDY STRIKES! RUGELACH COOKIE HAS FALLEN DOWN! HERE COMES COCONUT FLAKE COOKIE TO SNAG THE WIN!”

With the finish line crossed and window reached, Coconut Flake Cookie stood proud and delighted as he received the witch’s praise, eventually jumping out the window. Rugelach Cookie was left to get back up and head back to his place, however, if one looked closely, they could see that he was hiding a giddy smile…

———————————————————————

Due to being a witch, your life consisted mostly of isolation, except for the odd meeting with other fellow witches here and there. Thus, you came up with the idea of creating your own friends by baking cookies to give life to! It was an easy goal to achieve… if not for the fact that every cookie you baked always ran away and jumped out the window.

This kept going for multiple baking sessions, each one making you more annoyed when the results showed no sign of changing. Eventually though, it began to make sense to you. No matter their size or origins, living cookies were still as much as individuals as anybody else, little creatures with a desire to leave the nest and live a life of their own, instead of being stuck inside a witch’s kitchen with a giant being looming over them. It was just something you had to accept.

This led to a new idea develop: if they insisted on running, why not put them through a race? From then on, your lair became a small race arena. All you needed to set up was a long path that led to the window as the finish lane, and then fill it with many different types of (non-lethal) obstacles for each race. The first cookie to reach the window would have the prize of being able to jump out of it and live in the outside world! You didn’t actually know what the cookies did in the outside world, but it didn’t really bother you.

Between races, the cookies you baked would get their own resting village inside your lair, where they could all gather around and interact with one another, most conversations being about what laid outside the windows of your lair… what existed below the glimmering moon and stars they saw every night…

As for you, you decided to make the most out of your idea, sitting to the side during the races and choosing a specific cookie to cheer on, acting like a wild crowd. The first contestant cookies you baked were a bit confused at your odd actions, but eventually began to even enjoy them.

Oh, enjoy them they eventually did. It soon got to the point where the racing cookies would begin getting weirded out if you didn’t act like a crowd going wild over the contestants. Your cheers and howls of excitement directed at them soon became the main motivation for being willing to take part in the races, to the point that they sometimes even forgot what they even were originally racing for!

Slowly but surely, talks amongst the cookies every night in the resting village shifted from wonders about the outside world to gushing over the the witch in the audience seats, mostly led by the very first racing cookies that you had baked. More recently baked cookies were swift to join the talks about you, but it was the older ones who truly prided themselves knowing the most about the witch who baked them.

Many cookies soon began seeing the races in a different light: why would they want to go to the outside world when they had you and your praises in this cozy home? Surely staying with you wouldn’t be that bad as originally thought!

During these last few days, you’ve started noticing how… clumsy some of the cookies were during the race. A bit slow of slow running, a few of them missing a some.simple jumps, and taking extra long to get back to the racetrack once they failed an obstacle… and the numbers of the cookies doing it increased day by day. Despite the fact that it opened up a bigger chance for cheers and announcements from your audience stand, it still felt a bit suspiciously random.

If only you knew just how much your presence and cheers meant to your cookies at this point…

However, these didn’t end up being the only cookies that were aware of your races, as new ones would soon know about you…

———————————————————————

Dark Enchantress Cookie was busy scouting out the area with her cake witch carrying her as always, looking for more places to build her cake army in while the rest of the cookies of darkness were busy with her other demands, when she suddenly heard a loud cheer from not too far away.

Her instincts very much telling her that this voice she heard was a dreadful witch, she made her way to the source of the sound a fast as she possibly could, expecting to see what she had seen during the fateful night of the witches.

Instead, all she found was a witch… watching cookies run from one place to another?

She stood there, just watching the scene unfold. The excited look on the cookie’s faces, the enthusiasm of the witch, the complete lack of any cruelty of mischievousness on the witch’s voice and actions. It didn’t make any sense to her at all. Witches weren’t like this. They weren’t meant to be! She saw it all in the night of the witches!

She remained still for so long that her cake witch had began to stare at her with slight discomfort, wondering why its master had gone stiff for such a long time.

Dark Enchantress Cookie remained quiet within her mixed thoughts. Seeing cookies who weren’t baked with the intention to be eaten seemed to have rattled her mind a bit. After all, her view on the witch’s uses for cookies was the whole reason she had become who she was. But now, her initial plans for Earthbread seemed to have a small flaw in it. Unprepared for this extra factor in her equation

Leaving the area before she got any more hooked onto the ongoing scene, Dark Enchantress Cookie planned to order her subordinates to come visit in this place frequently… and to inform her all they find out about you specifically.

———————————————————————

With sightings of the cookies of darkness having been reported around this area, Gingerbrave had decided to come check this place out, trying to find out what the COD’s plans in this area were.

What he didn’t expect to run into however, was the lair of a witch! His mind already bringing him flashbacks of his very first living moments, he felt tempted to just run away instantly, and yet, something in his mind kept telling him to explore this new landmark. The vibe he got from this place was… unexpected, for lack of a better word.

Imagine his surprise when, instead of seeing the worst kind of cookie torture devices or other scariest stuff that he could think of, the first thing he saw was a small village full of many cookies who were all excitedly discussing something! He was too far to hear them properly, but judging from all the chatter, it was clear they were all discussing about the same thing.

Deciding to keep exploring, he’d carry on sneaking, now laying his eyes upon every nook and cranny of his surroundings, until he jumped in surprised at the sudden loud voice:

“GOOD MORNING, COMPETITORS! WHO’S READY FOR THE NEXT RACE?!”

Peeking out of cover, Gingerbrave’s eyes widened as he took in the view. Many of the cookies from the small resting village were all lining up to the race track, all cheering and looking up at the witch that had announced the start of the race.

Once it began, his eyes almost sparkled when he saw it all. All the cookies running, looking like they were having the time of their lives, and the loud cheers you were giving towards the racing cookies, it almost made him feel a bit sad and jealous that he wasn’t a part of it…

Too distracted by the ongoing event, Gingerbrave accidentally knocked into a book that fell down in front of him and opened. Curious by your handwriting on it, he skimmed a few pages and realised that this book recorded all the races you had ever had… you’ve been doing this for a long time! And he and the rest of his fellow cookies of Earthbread weren’t aware of you? The very first nice witch in probably forever?

Beginning to see this place in a new light, he began coming up with a plan to tell his friends about this new discovery… and possibly to sneak into your lair again and maybe try to disguise as your racer cookies too… all for the chance of getting to participate in on the fun, and receiving your wonderful cheers too…

Now you have two groups of cookies sneaking into your races, trying to blend themselves in as a part of the cookies you baked. They were all confident you wouldn’t notice the difference.

You did.

#cookie run kingdom #cookie run #cr kingdom #cookie run x reader #cookie run x you #gingerbrave #dark enchantress cookie #crk #crk x reader

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baxndaid · 3 months ago

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human vox

x reader 📺⛽🎤

an ; request more vox pls i love him, most of this is just me yapping

The year was 1952 and you worked in the upcoming film and TV industry. While it was just a small job reading through scripts to find typos or getting coffee for the more important figures, it was a job nonetheless and you enjoyed it.

A new show had quickly skyrocketed in popularity since its debut, a game show where you would have to answer questions in order to win the, most likely branded, items. Something like a washing machine or a supply of toothpaste. If the producers felt generous that day however, the prizes would rise in value, the show once giving away a brand new sleek black Fiat 1900. While the simple yet new and exciting premise of the show might’ve drawn viewers in, the host of the show made them stay. He was charming and handsome, he always dressed the part with a dapper suit and his hair was always done perfectly. Whenever he spoke, it was like the whole stage brightened up a bit, at least, that’s what you thought. His stage name was Vox, you never really liked that name - too sharp and aggressive, you thought. His real name was Vince, and you liked it better, though you’d never tell him that. You hardly ever had any interactions with the man other than handing him the script that the sponsors wanted him to yap about. He was charming, and you liked him - unfortunately it was just a pipe dream. You didn’t bother chasing after him considering you were just a small time employee while he was the face of the whole show, thousands of American women had their eyes on him especially when they turned their black and white TVs on between 5-6PM.

Fortunately for you, the producers had caught a glimpse of you backstage and wanted to spice up the show a bit. It was getting boring, other than the host himself there was nobody else the audience could attach themselves to. So, naturally, the best idea would be to introduce a beautiful woman, who was smart and shy - the “role model” if you will. You fit the bill, and how could you say no? You would be beloved by every household for your wholesome nature, (and especially loved by all the men in unhappy marriages and liked looking at the young women on screen.) And if you won? you could keep the winnings.

And you would win, because the show was now rigged in your favor.

Simply put, they wanted to paint you as the underdog, the vulnerable lady who simply wanted a chance to make some money. So when you would answer every question, even the ridiculous ones, correctly, the audience would gasp in disbelief at your amazing hidden knowledge and then tune into the next episode to see more of you and Vox. The truth was, the only thing hidden was Vox sliding you the answers to each question onto your desk. It was genius, really, the producers seemed to love the idea and so did Vox. Anything for ratings. You were still a little apprehensive, but you couldn’t back down after already signing the contract.

After winning one episode and becoming around $10,000 richer, Vox strategically pulled you in for a hug and gave you a polite kiss on the cheek to congratulate you for your “victory” in front of the camera. He was an amazing actor, you thought as he said his goodbyes to the audience and the cameras stopped rolling. Maybe he should ditch this studio and try his luck in Hollywood.

Once the room was no longer focused on Vox, he turned to you, his smile less big and forced and a lot more casual, “That was your first taste of show business, how’d you find it? Pretty nifty eh?” He prodded you with his elbow gently.

“Yeah, it was um- different… to what I usually do.”

“Oh yeah, forgot you worked here prior.” He looked at you up and down as he pulled a cigarette and lighter out from his pocket, “Say, since you and I are going to be working with each other from now on, why don’t we blow this antsville and I’ll buy you a drink?”

As he waited for your answer he placed the cigarette in his mouth and lit it. You were surprised and albeit excited by his offer, but you decided not to go out drinking with a famous guy in the middle of the afternoon. Something something responsible adult.

"A drink? Oh, I don't know about that sir... It's rather late."

He scoffed and exhaled, a puff of smoke engulfed you as you coughed. "Don't be such a square." He looked at your face again whilst bringing the stick up to his lips once more, "And don't call me sir, makes me seem old. Call me Vince," He paused, "Or Vox, I don't really give a rats ass."

You nodded and took a small step away from him in a pathetic attempt to get away from the smoke. He smirked.

"I take it you don't smoke?"

You shook your head

"Look at you, I'm not surprised." He took another draw of his cigarette, "So, about that drink?"

You were going to be honest, you couldn't say no. He was so unbelievably pushy that it was practically impossible to turn him down without feeling like shit afterwards. He was THE Vox, America's beloved host! How dare you even think of saying no. So here you were, in his luxurious house, sat on his couch that probably cost more than your entire living room, and with a glass of expensive scotch in hand that he generously poured you.

He returned with his own glass and sat down next to you, laying his free arm behind your head. He took a sip, his gaze never leaving yours,

"You're a pretty thing, can't believe you haven't been casted already, or snatched up by some of the big dogs like Vogue." He said, a smile plastered on his face. "I think you and I will get along just fine."

_____

As he predicted, you and Vox did indeed get on well, normally chatting (gossiping) about who knows what in his dressing room after work. He had told you about his old job as a TV salesmen, and how he has this weird hatred for radios. Something about them being outdated and boring. You never understood. He learnt a lot about you too, your past relationships, your family, your favourite animals - you two grew close and he relished in the idea of getting even closer. The network had given you another job since you could only appear on Vox's show so many times. It was a higher paying job but not all that stressful since you now had someone to talk to about it.

The press had caught wind of your friendship and naturally began to speculate on it. You won his gameshow 3 times now, maybe you simply slept with him in order to get the answers? Maybe it was luck? Are you two truly just friends or are you dating? Or just putting on a show?

Vox loved it, he loved your flushed face whenever you'd read the title of a gossip paper involving you and your new friend, he loved touching you a little more intimately whenever you two were hanging out in public, and he especially enjoyed kissing your hand or cheek under the guise of being a gentleman in front of any fans that just so happened to meet them out and about. Luckily for you, these rumours went nowhere and remained as simple speculation. Did he want you? yes, he couldn't even deny it. You were funny and understanding, even when he wasn't in a good mood. You knew so much about him and he knew so much about you - the fact that you were gorgeous was just a plus. Additionally, you were fantastic for his public image; a darling little thing like you attached to his hip just fuelled his already massive ego since he loved showing you off. The only problem was - you were as dense as a brick. He often got a little frustrated since his flirtatious efforts were fruitless; you couldn't tell if he was being for real or just acting for publicities sake, so you opted on just ignoring his romantic (and sexual) remarks towards you.

And don't think for a second that you'll be getting a real soppy confession from him either. He would buy you expensive clothes and take you out to fancy dinners, he would hold your hand while you crossed the street together and he would cuss anybody out if they were pissing you off. His feelings for you would be confirmed by him sloppily kissing you on his desk one random afternoon after a few drinks and tears; maybe not the most romantic way to say "I love you" but it was close enough for him and close enough for you too.

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samkerrworshipper · 1 year ago

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Lucy x reader riding her thigh or abs pls 😩😅😅

euro champs and abs | lucy Bronze x reader

warnings: smut, fluff, ab riding, MINORS DNI 18+

part 2 / aftercare <- just for my fluff girlies 😘

“If you win the Euro’s I’ll let you have me, however you want, for however long you want, doing whatever you want.”

They were the famous last words that I’d given to Lucy before her game, motivation, because for her I knew there was absolutely no better motivation than sex. She was a fucking horny little bitch, always and I used it to my advantage, often, it was the perfect form of bribery.

What I hadn’t expected when they won was for Lucy to cash in on that so soon, we’d been downstairs out with the team for hardly two hours when she approached me. I’d been sitting with Tooney and Less, the babies of the group who were apparently massive lightweights because they were both slurring their words as they tried to crack jokes that were completely incoherent.

“I think it’s about time that we gave me my prize, hm?”

I shivered as Lucy’s breath and voice brushed against my neck, slightly thicker with the alcohol that I knew she’d consumed. I turned my head towards her, so I could get a proper look. She was still in her playing uniform, as were the majority of the girls. She wasn’t drunk but she was definitely a few drinks in, Lucy could handle her alcohol concerningly well, in fact she’d drunken most of our friends under the table, bar the Aussies and Irish who nobody could come close to, there was something different in their blood, I was sure of it.

“If that’s what you want my girl.”

Lucy smirked at me and nodded and there wasn’t a single part of me that could deny her, there wasn’t a bone in my body capable of doing so. So I said my goodbyes to the two youngsters before taking a final swig of what was left in my glass and following Lucy out of the room and back to our hotel room.

Almost as soon as we got through the door her lips were on mine, capturing them in a bruisingly deep kiss that sent shivers down my back all the way to my toes. She was pulling me by my belt into her and everything about it was so fucking perfect. Once she was satisfied I was close enough to her body she started to undo my belt, she struggled for a few seconds before getting it off and dropping it to the floor. Lucy’s lips were hot, nibbling along my jaw and lips in the softest way I knew she was capable of, her eyes were on my own, the big orbs staring directly into mine as she started to undress me slowly. We were both breathing heavily, gasps leaving both of our lips every few seconds. Lucy was whispering I love you against my lips as many times as she could, and it had me practically shaking in my jeans.

“What do you want my love?”

Lucy’s hands were currently occupied with my jeans, struggling to pull the zipper off.

“Want you to ride my abs.”

I couldn’t breathe, I swore Lucy had actually taken the air from my lungs and just as I was about to choke on my own breath Lucy’s thumb was on my lower lip, looking to me for an answer.

“Only if you want to.”

Lucy’s hands were back at my jeans, having worked out the zipper she was now pulling the denim down over my thighs and ass, letting them pool on the floor and helping me step out of them.

“Yes, Yes, a thousand times yes.”

Lucy smirked at me, replacing her thumb with her lips and catching me in another painfully good kiss that had her hands tangled in my hair, smashing our teeth and lips together. When she finally pulled away her face was flushed and my hair was a distraught mess, neither of us cared though, why would we. She was a European champion and I was her fiance, life could not be better. Next thing I knew she was picking me up and I was wrapping my legs around her, attaching my lips to her neck whilst she moved us over to the bed and sat herself down before leaning herself down so she was lying against the pillows and I was straddling her hips.

I continued to sloppily kiss at Lucy’s neck, making very faint marks as I moved my way along, until she was pulling my head back gently with her hand secured around my hair.

“Those panties are so sexy, baby, but I think they would look far sexier in the pile on the floor. They're not doing much now anyways, you’ve already soaked through them.”

I nodded eagerly at Lucy, lifting my hips up so she could slide the items off of my hips and down my legs, leaving my bottom half naked and resting securely on her still clothed hips.

“I think you’re overdressed as well sweetheart.”

Lucy nodded at me, making quick work of lifting the both of us up and slipping her shorts and boxers off and then quickly lifting her shirt over her head to reveal her six pack to me, glistening in the light of our hotel room and leaving her equally bare as me.

“Better?”

I replied to her by pressing my lips back on her own, taking her bottom lip in my teeth and biting down enough to earn a little squeal from her.

“Why don’t you show me how well you can get yourself off on my abs baby?”

I swore once again that as the words were murmured against my lips that once again the oxygen was taken from my lungs. I removed my mouth delicately from Lucy’s and moved myself up from her hips, lifting myself up and setting myself back down onto her abs that I loved so much. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t fantasised about this somewhere along the way, I mean there was something so fucking delectable about the muscles that adorned her torso.

As soon as I sat myself down on them I could feel every single detail of them under me, I didn’t even have to move to feel the friction of her muscles tensing and simply existing below me. Lucy pressed her lips to my hips, pressing a delicate kiss to each hip bone before looking up at me, her eyes were full of list and seduction, everything that made me giddy on the inside.

“C’mon baby, make me proud.”

Her words of encouragement and her hands securing themselves on my waist were enough to guide me to start moving and almost immediately I was a moaning mess. The feeling of her skin and her slightly soft but also rock hard muscles underneath my clit and pussy was electric. Lucy’s hands on my hips, gripping down on the places she’d just kissed and was now bruising also adding to the pleasure that was building up in my stomach. I was coating Lucy’s whole torso in my juices and adding to experience as I continued to rub myself up and down her curves and edges, finding the spots that felt the best and rubbing myself up against those particular spots with a little bit more energy behind my hips. Slowing pushing myself towards the edge as I pushed my clit up and down the hard muscles that felt like a fucking dream against my sensitive nub. I knew Lucy could feel that I was getting close, my body giving me away as my thighs and pussy clenched against her skin as my body clung to her skin searching for more, searching for a release.

“Let go baby, I know you can do it, let go for me.”

As soon as the words left her mouth I was plummeting over a cliff of pleasure, my body spasming on top of Lucy's hips, mine jerking against hers which left me an oversensitive whimpering mess until Lucy lifted me off of her body and set me down next to her on the bed. It took me a few seconds before the orgasm finally ridded itself of my body and I was left in the post-orgasmic bliss, Lucy’s arms lazily wrapped around my torso.

“How about you clean up the mess you’ve made and then we go for round two?”

I was very happy to clean up the mess I’d made, leaning down to lick my way up between the valley of her muscles, flattening my tongue out against her muscles to lick up the mess that I’d made all over her. It was filthy and dirty and everything that I loved about sex with Lucy. I kept going, revelling in the sounds that I was making Lucy produce. Normally we would have tried to be quieter, considering that we were staying at a hotel with her teammates but they’d just won the fucking Euro’s and I could guarantee that all of the girls were most likely getting laid tonight but someone.

Once I was done I reached up to press my lips to Lucy’s, letting her taste me, she smirked devilishly against my lips, her tongue reaching into my own mouth to lick up whatever she could find, ravaging my mouth until she had tasted every inch that she could.

“So, round two?”

#woso #woso community #lionesses #marry me rn #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze imagine #ab riding

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inmyheaddd · 3 months ago

Text

play stupid games, win stupid prizes - jameson hawthorne x reader

a/n: this feels different from my usual writing style, idk if i like itt, lmk what u guys think! warnings: swearing, suggestive jokes??, possibly ooc jameson (his fboy era), popular reader x popular jameson wc: 1k masterlist

you couldn’t have been more reckless. really. jameson hawthorne? out of all the people?

it was supposed to be a one time thing, a stupid 7 minutes in heaven dare at a stupid party, his stupid friend who gave him your number, and his stupid decision to text you after the party. and your stupid decision to text him back.

—

lunch break finally came. you were sitting in the cafeteria as your friend swirled her iced coffee, “girl, how’d you get jameson hawthorne to literally be thirsting over you?”

you giggled and looked at him briefly, he was sitting a few tables over, but you could see the way his eyes were fixed on you.

you shrugged as you turned your attention back at your friends. “guys, it’s not even that big of a deal, we’re barely even together.” the smile on your face said otherwise, one of your friends raised her eyebrows at you.

“i promise! besides, he’s the king of “casual,” and “mixed signals,” you know? i shouldn’t get my hopes up.”

“i mean, this whole thing has been going on for 2 months now, things with him usually last a week. he’s definitely feeling something.”

“stop!” you exclaimed with a laugh, “you’re actually going to get my hopes up. don’t do that!” you snuck a glance over to his table, and he was talking to his friends.

like he could sense your gaze, he looked at you, offering you a wink with his signature smile. you smiled back and looked back at your friends, only to find them all looking at you with the same expectant, knowing look on their face.

“what?” your voice pitched higher, you felt like you were in court.

“you look so in love, it kind of sickens me.” your best friend piped up.

“i’m not in love.” you shot back. a little crush was way different.

—

it was the end of the school day, jameson found you after class and walked to the car park with you. “i saw you at lunch today,” he glanced at you before wrapping his arm around your shoulders, steering you both to his car.

“yeah? i saw you too.” you tried to bite back a smile as you glanced up at him.

he hummed, “you seemed excited, what were you talking about?” the teasing tone in his voice was as clear as day.

“not you,” you replied, rolling your eyes at his cheshire cat smile, and when it only widened at your reaction, you continued. “i can assure you.”

he chuckled, “yeah well, some of your friends can be very loud. i wouldn’t be too sure.”

you pursed your lips, “hmm, i have no idea what you’re talking about.” you shook your head, trying to change the subject before your cheeks could heat up any more. “where is your car anyway?”

“relax, princess. i know where i’m going.” he chuckled, before finally arriving at his car.

it was new, you realized. bright red, convertible, lamborghini, and the license plate was different.

it wasn’t his usual “WRECK2002”, and after looking for another second, you noticed something.

“are those our initials?” you couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of jameson picking it out. it was cute in a way.

“yes, they are. you like it?” his hand traveled up and down your back as he watched your reaction.

you hummed, “it’s alright, i guess.” you said smiling at him, knowing fully well you were obsessed.

his grin widened as he cocked his head to the side. “guess i’ll have to do better next time, then.” he replied with another wink, before he opened the passenger seat door for you.

“guess so,” you said, not tearing away from his gaze once as you got in.

he closed your door for you, and then began to lean over the window.

his lips hovered over yours, teasingly close, making your breath hitch. your eyes flickered down to his lips.

but then he pulled back, moving a strand of hair out of your face and giving you a grin. you couldn’t help the scoff that escaped your lips, and he he chuckled at that. douchebag.

—

he got into the drivers seat and started the car, one hand on the wheel as he leaned back in his chair.

you tried to ignore the way his adam’s apple was on full view, the way his jawline looked so sharp, you really did, but it was damn near impossible.

“where to, princess?”

“my house, obviously. where else?” you replied with a hint of sarcasm.

he shot you a look, one corner of his mouth lifting. “and here i thought you’d want to take a detour. maybe show you a few of my favorite spots?”

“and what might those be?” you asked, playing along, even though you already knew where this was going.

“let’s see…” he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, pretending to think. “well, there’s this one place, it’s called my bedroom.”

you rolled your eyes, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips. “you’re nothing if not predictable, jameson.”

“predictable?” he repeated, feigning offense. “i’ll have you know, i’m full of surprises.”

“oh really?” you asked, leaning back in your seat, watching as he drove with one hand casually draped over the wheel, the other resting dangerously near your leg. “surprise me then.”

he glanced at you with an amused look on his face briefly, before turning his gaze to the road. you couldn’t miss the mischievous glint in his eyes and his turned up lips. “you should be careful what you wish for.”

—

he pulled up to your house, and before you could move, he was already opening your door, standing so close you could feel the heat radiating off him.

his eyes flickered to your lips, and your hands found their way to his chest. just as he was about to break the space, you took a step back, on your tiptoes reaching up to ruffle his hair.

after muttering a small, “thanks for the ride,” and walking off, smiling to yourself in achievement, jameson let out a scoff of amusement, maybe even disbelief.

just as you got to the door, you turned around, giving him a little finger wave.

jameson was still standing there, dare you say even gobsmacked. his head was tilted to the side, and his eyes were narrowed ever so slightly. he had a challenging grin on as his face as he waved back, sending you a chin nod.

—

as you lay in bed, facetiming your friend and giggling nonstop about what happened, a thought crept in. whatever this was with jameson, you silently hoped it wouldn’t end up like everything else with him usually did —wrecked.

taglist: @sweetlikeanangel @x-liv25-jamieswife @thecircularlibrary @wish-i-were-heather

@whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable @sheisntyou @maybxlle

@anintellectualintellectual @tornqdowarnings @emelia07 (if you would like to be added or removed lmk 🤍)

#jameson hawthorne x reader #jameson hawthorne #the inheritance games #the grandest game #grayson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #nash hawthorne #tig #tgg #jameson hawthorne x you #jameson hawthorne headcanons #the brothers hawthorne #the final gambit #the hawthorne legacy #jameson hawthorne fluff #❦ jude writes

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muiitoloko · 1 month ago

Text

Owned by a Nobel

Summary: Eli, the arrogant Nobel Prize winner, claims what he believes is his — his lover. Through intense passion and undeniable control, he proves that she belongs to him alone, body and soul.

Pairing: Eli Michaelson × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut

Author's Notes: I just wanted to write a smut with Eli 🤷‍♀️

Also read on Ao3

Eli leaned against the doorframe, his sharp eyes following your every move as you danced around the kitchen to the infectious beat of Britney Spears’ Oops!... I Did It Again. The song filled the space with a playful energy, and you couldn’t help but lose yourself in the rhythm, moving your hips in time with the music, your voice singing along with abandon. You wore a pair of short jean shorts and a tight tank top that hugged your curves in all the right places, and Eli couldn’t tear his eyes away from you.

It had been three months since the two of you had started living together, and even now, Eli found himself surprised by how quickly things had progressed between you. He was a man used to control, precision, and certainty in his life, but you had slipped in unexpectedly—bright, spontaneous, and full of life. He hadn’t planned for any of it, least of all proposing after just a few months of dating. But there you were, in his kitchen, your presence a stark contrast to the cold, calculated life he had known before.

Eli watched as you swayed to the music, your hips moving in a way that was both innocent and sinful at the same time. He crossed his arms, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as you spun around, catching him watching you. You gave him a teasing smile, knowing exactly what you were doing to him.

"Are you singing that song to me?" Eli asked, his voice rich with amusement and a hint of something darker, more dangerous. His eyes gleamed with a possessive hunger as he took in the sight of you, his gaze lingering on the curve of your thighs exposed by the short denim, the swell of your breasts under the tight fabric of your tank top.

You laughed, flipping your hair over your shoulder and giving him a playful wink. "Maybe I am," you teased, your voice light but filled with suggestion as you turned back to the stove, stirring the contents of the pan in front of you. "Maybe I’m just a girl who can’t help making the same mistake twice."

Eli chuckled, pushing off the doorframe and walking toward you with a deliberate slowness that made your pulse quicken. His presence was commanding, as always, but there was something different about the way he looked at you tonight—something darker, more intense. He reached you in a few strides, his hands slipping around your waist, pulling you back against his chest as his lips hovered near your ear.

“Well, if you’re talking about me,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin, "I wouldn’t call it a mistake."

You felt the heat of his body against yours, the hard planes of his chest pressing into your back as his hands slid down your waist, his fingers playing with the hem of your shorts. "Maybe it’s a mistake I like making," you replied, your voice breathless as his fingers grazed the skin just beneath your waistband.

Eli chuckled darkly, his hands moving with slow, deliberate intent as he unbuttoned your shorts, his fingers slipping inside the waistband to rest against your hips. "You’re playing a dangerous game," he whispered, his voice a low growl as his lips brushed the side of your neck. "But I think you like that."

You gasped softly as his hands slid further into your shorts, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of your thighs, teasing you with just the lightest touch. "Eli..." you murmured, your breath catching in your throat as his hands roamed your body, his touch possessive and demanding.

He smirked against your neck, his hands finally slipping lower, finding the heat between your legs as he pressed against you, his fingers moving with expert precision. "You think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been teasing me all night?" he growled softly, his voice thick with desire as his fingers began to move in slow, deliberate circles. "Dancing around in these little shorts, knowing exactly what it does to me..."

You let out a soft moan, your body responding to his touch as his fingers worked you with a skill that left you trembling. You could feel the heat building inside you, the tension coiling tight in your core as Eli’s hands continued their slow, torturous movements.

"Tell me," he muttered against your skin, his voice rough as his fingers slipped deeper, teasing your entrance with maddening precision. "Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me ."

Your breath came out in a shaky exhale, your body arching back against him as you struggled to form the words. "I want you," you gasped, your voice barely a whisper as the pleasure built inside you, your heart racing with anticipation. "I always want you."

Eli growled in approval, his hands tightening on your hips as he spun you around, pressing you against the counter with a firm, possessive grip. His lips crashed against yours in a rough, hungry kiss, his hands gripping your waist as he pressed his body against yours, leaving no space between you.

"You’re mine," he muttered against your lips, his voice filled with dark, dangerous desire. "And I’m not letting you go."

You moaned softly as his hands roamed your body, his touch rough and insistent, his lips moving to your neck as he kissed and bit at the sensitive skin there. "Eli..." you gasped, your hands clutching at his shirt as he pressed you harder against the counter, his body demanding, hungry, needing more.

"Upstairs," he growled, his voice thick with need as he pulled back, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "Now."

You didn’t hesitate. You knew exactly what he wanted, and you were more than ready to give it to him.

And as you both made your way upstairs, the tension between you only building with every step, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that Eli Michaelson—a man who once prided himself on his control and detachment—was completely and utterly consumed by you.

Eli followed you into the bedroom, his sharp eyes never leaving you as he started to undo his belt with deliberate slowness. You sat obediently on the edge of the bed, your fingers playing lightly with the hem of your shorts, waiting for further instructions. Your heart raced, and you couldn’t help but softly hum the tune of Oops!... I Did It Again under your breath, still lingering in the playful energy of the song, knowing exactly how much that drove him wild.

As Eli kicked his pants off his ankles, his eyes dark with that familiar, arrogant hunger, he gave himself a few teasing strokes, his hand wrapping around his already hard length, the faint glisten of pre-cum building at the tip. He smirked, his lips curling into a condescending smile as he caught the way your eyes flicked down to his hand, your breath quickening.

"Come here," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. His tone left no room for hesitation, his thumb swiping lazily over the head of his cock as he beckoned you closer with a crooked finger. "Take care of your Nobel Prize winner first, like a good girl."

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening as you slid off the bed and knelt in front of him, your body already responding to his words, to the authority in his voice. You loved it when he took control, loved the way he demanded everything from you with that arrogant air of superiority that made him so uniquely Eli.

He watched with a smirk as you positioned yourself between his legs, your hands reaching up to wrap around his length. But before you could even begin, his hand was in your hair, gripping it tightly, pulling your head back slightly so you had no choice but to look up at him. His eyes gleamed with dark amusement, enjoying the power he had over you, the way you obeyed him so perfectly.

"That’s right," he muttered, his voice dripping with arrogance. "You know what to do."

You nodded, your lips parting as you leaned forward, taking the tip of his cock into your mouth, tasting the salty tang of pre-cum. Eli groaned softly, his grip tightening in your hair as he guided your movements, keeping your hair pulled back so he could watch your every move, his eyes filled with possessive satisfaction.

"Look at you," he muttered, his voice thick with disdainful pleasure. "On your knees for me... exactly where you belong."

You moaned softly at his words, the vibration sending a shiver through him as you began to work your mouth over him, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock before taking him deeper. His hand never left your hair, holding you in place, controlling the pace as he pushed his hips forward, filling your mouth with his length.

"Good girl," Eli growled, his voice rough with approval as he thrust into your mouth, his cock sliding deeper with each movement. "Just like that... I always knew you’d be good for something."

You whimpered softly around him, the degrading edge to his words only making you want to please him more. His hand in your hair tightened, holding you in place as he began to fuck your mouth with slow, deliberate thrusts, each one pushing deeper, making your eyes water slightly as you tried to take him all in.

"God, you look so fucking perfect like this," he muttered, his voice a mix of arrogance and desire as he watched you struggle to keep up with his pace. "You should be grateful... not every girl gets to take care of a Nobel Prize winner, you know."

You moaned again, your hands gripping his thighs for balance as he continued to use your mouth, his hips moving with a steady, relentless rhythm. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, and you could feel the tension building in his body, his control slipping as he got closer to the edge.

"Fuck," Eli groaned, his grip tightening painfully in your hair as he thrust harder, his cock hitting the back of your throat with each movement. "You’re going to make me come... and you’re going to swallow every fucking drop."

You nodded as best as you could, your body trembling with anticipation as you continued to work your mouth over him, determined to give him exactly what he wanted. His breaths grew more ragged, his movements more urgent, and with a final, rough thrust, he groaned deeply, spilling himself into your mouth.

Eli held your head in place as he came, his eyes locked on yours, watching with satisfaction as you swallowed every drop, just as he had ordered. When he finally pulled back, he smirked, his hand releasing your hair as he leaned down, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips.

"Good girl," he muttered, his voice filled with smug satisfaction as he wiped the last traces of himself from your lips. "Now get up... we’re not done yet."

You obeyed instantly, the command in Eli’s voice sending a rush of excitement through your body. You stood up from your kneeling position and began undressing, your fingers trembling slightly as you pulled off your tank top and shorts, leaving you in nothing but your panties. Eli’s eyes were glued to you, his gaze dark and hungry as he watched your every move.

“Lie down on the bed,” he ordered, his baritone voice dripping with authority, making your pulse quicken. You nodded, climbing onto the bed and stretching out, your body already aching with anticipation as you lay there, waiting for him. Your hands instinctively moved to your breasts, squeezing them lightly, your fingers teasing your nipples as you watched him, your breath coming in short gasps.

Eli took his time, clearly enjoying the sight of you laid out before him. He removed his shirt slowly, revealing the broad chest and strong arms you had come to crave. His hooked nose flared slightly as he inhaled deeply, his hazel eyes darkening with lust as they roamed over your body, lingering on the way your hands caressed your breasts.

“You know how much I love those,” he murmured, his voice a low growl as he finally climbed onto the bed, crawling toward you like a predator stalking its prey. His cock was already starting to come to life again, twitching with renewed arousal as he reached you. He leaned down and pressed his lips to your collarbone, kissing and nipping at your skin as he slowly made his way down your body.

You gasped softly, your back arching slightly as his mouth moved lower, his hands sliding up your sides until they reached your breasts. Eli paused, pulling back slightly to take in the sight of you, his eyes filled with raw hunger as he looked at your full, soft breasts. “Fucking perfect,” he muttered, his hands moving to cup them, squeezing them firmly as his thumbs brushed over your hardened nipples.

His touch sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, and you let out a soft moan, your body trembling with need. Eli’s lips followed the path of his hands, kissing along the swell of your breasts before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking hard. His other hand continued to knead your other breast, his fingers pinching and teasing your nipple in a way that made you writhe beneath him.

“God, I love your tits,” Eli growled, his voice muffled against your skin as he switched to the other breast, his tongue flicking over your nipple before sucking it deep into his mouth. “So fucking soft… I could spend all night right here.”

You whimpered softly, your hands tangling in his hair as he continued to lavish attention on your breasts, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony to drive you wild. “Eli, please…” you gasped, your body arching toward him, desperate for more.

He chuckled darkly, pulling back slightly to look up at you, his lips curling into a smug smirk. “What’s the matter?” he teased, his hands still massaging your breasts as he leaned down to kiss your neck. “Are you getting impatient?”

You nodded, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as the heat between your legs grew unbearable. “I need you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. “Please, Eli…”

Eli groaned softly, his hands sliding down your body, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist before slipping between your legs. He pressed his thumb against your clit through the thin fabric of your panties, making you gasp and buck your hips toward him.

“Patience, my dear,” he murmured, his voice dripping with arrogance as he teased you, his thumb rubbing slow, torturous circles over your clit. “You’ll get what you want… when I’m ready.”

You whimpered softly, your body trembling with need as Eli continued to toy with you, his fingers brushing against the wetness that had already soaked through your panties. He smirked, clearly enjoying the way you responded to his touch, the way your body was completely at his mercy.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice filled with dark satisfaction as he slid your panties down, exposing your dripping wet core. “So fucking wet for me… you really can’t help yourself, can you?”

You shook your head, unable to form words as his fingers slid between your folds, teasing your entrance with maddening precision. Eli’s eyes darkened with lust as he pushed one finger inside you, then another, his thumb pressing down on your clit as he began to fuck you with slow, deliberate strokes.

You gasped, your hips bucking toward his hand as the pleasure built inside you, the tension coiling tight in your core. “Eli… please…” you whimpered, your body trembling with need as his fingers worked you with expert precision.

He chuckled softly, his breath hot against your skin as he leaned down to kiss your neck. “That’s right,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Beg for it.”

“I need you,” you gasped, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as your body trembled beneath him. “Please, Eli… I need you inside me…”

Eli groaned softly, his cock twitching with renewed arousal as he pulled his fingers from your wet heat, bringing them to his lips and licking them clean. “You taste so fucking good,” he muttered, his voice rough with desire as he positioned himself between your legs, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance.

He didn’t wait for your response. With one swift, powerful thrust, he buried himself inside you, filling you completely. You cried out, your hands clutching at his back as he began to move, his pace fast and relentless, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you with every stroke.

Eli cursed under his breath, gripping your hips as he drove into you with deep, powerful strokes. He fucked you nearly every day, and yet you were still so deliciously tight around him, clenching and squeezing as if your body had been made for him alone. He didn’t understand it in the least—how you could still feel this good, this perfect, no matter how many times he took you.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he lowered himself against you, his chest pressing into yours, the rough scratch of his chest hair brushing against your sensitive breasts with each thrust. Your hands roamed his back, one of them moving lower to cup his ass, squeezing as you tried to pull him even deeper inside you.

But Eli wasn’t about to let you take control. He growled softly, grabbing your wrist and pinning it above your head, his fingers tight around your skin as he held you there, immobile, beneath him. He smirked, leaning down to bite your chin gently, his breath hot against your lips.

“Still playing games with me, are you?” he growled, his voice thick with lust and arrogance as he continued to fuck you hard and deep. “Was that song for me? You think you can toy with my heart like that?”

You moaned in response, your body arching beneath him as he hit that perfect spot inside you over and over, your breath coming in ragged gasps. “Eli...” you whimpered, your free hand gripping the sheets as the pleasure built inside you, threatening to overwhelm you.

He chuckled darkly, his hips slamming into yours with brutal precision, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. “That’s right,” he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. “You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you? Dancing around in those little shorts, teasing me like a fucking schoolgirl.”

He bit your lip, not enough to hurt but enough to make you gasp, the sharp pleasure mixing with the overwhelming sensation of his cock filling you completely. “You think you can play with me?” he whispered, his breath hot and rough against your skin. “You’re mine.”

Eli’s hand moved to grip your jaw, tilting your head so you had no choice but to look up at him, his dark, hazel eyes gleaming with possessive hunger. “Say it,” he ordered, his voice filled with the kind of arrogance that made your pulse quicken. “Tell me you’re mine.”

You shuddered beneath him, your body trembling with pleasure as he continued to pound into you, each thrust sending you closer to the edge. “I’m yours,” you gasped, your voice breathless, barely able to form the words as the tension in your core built to a fever pitch. “I’m always yours, Eli...”

He growled in satisfaction, his hand tightening on your jaw as his hips moved faster, harder, his breath coming in rough, ragged gasps. “That’s right,” he muttered, his voice thick with lust. “You’re mine... and I’m not letting you go. Not ever.”

You moaned, your body arching against him as the pleasure became too much to bear. His cock filled you so perfectly, hitting that spot inside you with every thrust, his arrogant words driving you wild with need. “Eli, please,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as the tension coiled tight inside you, ready to snap. “I’m so close...”

Eli didn't let you come yet, though your body was trembling, aching for release. Instead, with a dark chuckle, he released your wrist and gripped your thighs, pulling them up toward your chest until your knees were practically touching your head. The shift in position sent a sharp jolt of pleasure through you, but the frustration of being denied pushed your arousal to a near unbearable peak.

"You’re not getting off that easy," Eli muttered, his baritone voice low and commanding, his breath hot against your ear. He rocked his hips against yours, thrusting faster and harder, the bed shaking beneath you with the force of it. The headboard slammed repeatedly into the wall, the sound echoing through the room, but neither of you cared. Your moans mixed with the steady rhythm of his deep, guttural groans as he lost himself in the pleasure of controlling you completely.

Your body was on fire, every nerve alight with need as Eli continued to pound into you, his hands gripping your thighs tightly, holding you in place as he took exactly what he wanted. You could feel the slickness of your arousal coating his cock, making it easier for him to slide in and out of you with each brutal thrust. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps, your fingers clutching at the sheets, desperate for something to hold onto as the pressure built inside you, threatening to spill over at any moment.

"Please, Eli," you whimpered, your voice trembling as you tried to meet his thrusts, your hips moving in rhythm with his. "I need to come... please..."

But Eli wasn’t ready to let you have what you wanted. His smirk deepened, and he leaned down to bite the curve of your shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark. "You’ll come when I say you can," he growled against your skin, his voice dripping with arrogance. "You don’t get to decide, I do."

He thrust harder, the angle making you see stars as he hit that perfect spot inside you over and over again, the tension building and building until you thought you might scream. Your body trembled beneath him, completely at his mercy, the need for release so overwhelming it was almost painful. You could barely think, your mind clouded with lust, with the raw, animalistic pleasure of having Eli take you like this—so rough, so dominant.

But just as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, Eli’s cock slipped out of you, the sudden loss of him leaving you gasping in shock and frustration. The slickness of your arousal had made it too easy for him to slide out, and now you were left trembling, your body throbbing with unfulfilled need.

"Fuck," Eli muttered, his brow furrowed in annoyance as he realized what had happened. He glanced down between your legs, his cock hard and glistening with your wetness, twitching with the need to bury itself back inside you. His hazel eyes darkened with frustration, but there was a flicker of amusement in them as well, as if he was enjoying the fact that he could keep you on the edge for just a little longer.

"Looks like you’ll have to wait a little longer, sweetheart," he said with a dark, mocking smile, his hands gripping your thighs even tighter as he positioned himself to enter you again. "You didn’t think it’d be that easy, did you?"

You let out a frustrated whimper, your hips bucking up toward him, desperate to feel him inside you again. "Eli, please..." you gasped, your voice trembling with need. "I need it... I need you..."

Eli chuckled, clearly savoring your desperation. He pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you with slow, deliberate movements, but not giving you what you wanted just yet. "Beg me," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. "I want to hear you beg for it."

Your body was shaking, the need for release so overwhelming it was almost unbearable. "Please, Eli," you whimpered, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as your hips bucked toward him, seeking out the relief only he could give you. "Please fuck me... I need it... I need to come... please..."

Eli’s smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction at your pleas. "That’s more like it," he growled, and without another word, he thrust back inside you, filling you completely with one hard, brutal stroke.

Eli groaned in satisfaction as he began moving inside you again, his hands releasing your thighs to take hold of your breast, his mouth descending onto it with a hunger that sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. His tongue flicked over your nipple, sucking hard, and the combined sensations of his cock filling you so perfectly and the relentless attention to your breasts sent you spiraling toward an orgasm you couldn’t hold back.

Your body arched off the bed, your back curving as the pleasure overwhelmed you, a scream tearing from your throat. "Eli!" you gasped, your fingers clutching at his shoulders as the orgasm hit you hard, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you. You had no control, no ability to stop it, and before you even realized what was happening, you were coming hard, your body trembling beneath him as your release gushed out of you.

Eli froze for a moment, pulling back to watch in fascination as your body reacted, his hazel eyes widening slightly as he saw the way you squirted, your release soaking the sheets beneath you. His gaze was intense, filled with a mix of surprise and arrogant satisfaction. "Well, well," he muttered, his voice low and thick with lust as he watched the way your body trembled, your legs shaking as you came apart in front of him. "I didn’t know you had that in you."

You gasped for breath, your chest heaving as you struggled to come down from the overwhelming pleasure, your body still twitching with aftershocks. But Eli wasn’t done. He pulled out of you slowly, watching every movement, his cock glistening with your release. His gaze darkened as he looked at the mess you had made, a slow, arrogant smirk curling at the corner of his lips.

"You’re perfect," he muttered, his voice dripping with condescension as he ran his fingers through your slickness, bringing them to his lips to taste you. "Absolutely fucking perfect... for me."

His words sent another shiver down your spine, but Eli was too wrapped up in his own superiority to care about how wrecked you were. He leaned over you, his face close to yours, his breath hot against your lips as he whispered, "You think anyone else could make you do that? No one could. You’re mine. My perfect little slut, squirting all over me like that."

He pressed his mouth to yours in a rough, possessive kiss, his hand sliding down your body to toy with your overstimulated clit. You gasped into his mouth, your body jerking in response to the sudden sensation, but he held you in place, his fingers moving with slow, deliberate precision. "You don’t come without my permission, understand?" he growled against your lips, his eyes gleaming with that arrogant dominance you had come to crave.

You nodded quickly, your body still trembling from the intensity of your release, but Eli wasn’t about to let you off easy. He pulled back slightly, his eyes raking over you with a possessive hunger that made your pulse quicken. "You belong to me," he muttered, his voice thick with desire. "Every inch of you... this perfect body... it’s mine."

His fingers pressed harder against your clit, sending another jolt of pleasure through your already trembling body. "Say it," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. "Tell me you belong to me."

"I... I belong to you," you gasped, your voice trembling with need as the pleasure built again, despite the overwhelming sensitivity. "I’m yours, Eli... only yours."

He smirked, clearly satisfied with your response. "Good girl," he muttered, his fingers finally pulling away from your clit, leaving you breathless and shaking beneath him. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips, slow and possessive, as if claiming you all over again.

As he pulled back, he looked down at you with that same arrogant smirk, his hazel eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "You’re everything I deserve," he said, his voice full of superiority. "The perfect woman for a Nobel Prize winner."

#alan rickman #alan rickman x reader #eli michaelson x reader #eli michaelson

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specialagentlokitty · 9 months ago

Text

Eddie Diaz x reader - what’s important to you

Please... Ok imagine Eddie from 911 going on a couple dates with reader who also speaks Spanish and finally introducing her to Christopher... Like would Eddie be nervous, would reader be nervous, how would Christopher react? - @azeal-peal 💜

A/N: italics will be Spanish

He had met you through Hen, it was an accident, you just happened to on a night out at the same bar that the team were out on a night out at.

Hen introduced you to everybody, and when you friends went home with guys, you stayed with them just happily talking away.

Eddie couldn’t keep his eyes off you that night, you were beautiful, you were dressed up nicely, but not too revealing, just enough to turn heads as you walked through the door.

And he realised you didn’t need to be on a night out to turn heads, because when you walked through the doors of the station his eyes immediately found you.

“Hey, have you seen Hen?” You asked.

Eddie snapped out of his daze.

“I Uhm.. I think.. what?” He stuttered.

He wasn’t actually listening, and he gave you a sheepish grin which you returned with a small laugh and a bright smile.

“Hen, she said she was here but I can’t find her.”

“Oh I actually think she’s with Bobby right now, but you can wait up there if you want.”

He pointed to the upstairs part of the station, and you grinned brightly.

“Thanks Eddie!”

“You remember my name?” He asked confused.

He remembers telling you his name, but that was a few weeks ago, he wasn’t expecting you to remember.

You stopped on the stars and smirked.

“I remember the name of everybody, especially good looking firefighters.” You winked.

He smirked a little bit, following after you up the stairs, getting a bottle of water from the fridge and he brought it over to you.

You took it, offering him a sweet smile.

“You think I’m good looking?”

“You could be poster boy for the recruitment campaign.”

He laughed a little, looking away.

“Well, thanks. Nothing compared to you though, you could enter a world beauty contest and win by default.”

“Oh yeah?”

He hummed a little, directing his gaze back at you.

“Does that line win over all the ladies?”

“I don’t know, did it win over you?”

“Depends on what you’re thinking.”

“Well, I was thinking a nice dinner, maybe a movie?”

“Oh he makes his move, bold choice Mr firefighter, are you sure it’s the right one?”

He grinned a little at you.

“After work?”

“I’ll get Hen to give you my address, don’t be late hot shot.”

You got up, giving him another wink as you walked over to your friend who had just come up the stairs.

Eddie was right on time for you date, and it went amazing, so you asked him for a second date the following week.

Every week for two months you two would go on a date, just slightly getting to know one another.

Today was no different, you were walking around the pier with him, your hand in his as you walked over to a few of the stall games.

“I bet I could beat you.” He said.

“Oh you’re so on!”

Eddie smiled softly at you.

He learnt pretty quickly when you got really happy or excited about something you reverted to Spanish, and he had once heard you arguing with Hen in Spanish because he had to translate.

He paid for both your games, and you began throwing the balls at the targets, seeing who could knock down more cans.

He was winning at the start and he gave a cocky grin.

“You’re all talk.”

You scoffed a little.

“You wish, I was just biding my time.”

Tossing the final ball in your hand, you threw it, knocking over all but one of your cans.

Eddie stood there in pure shock, and he stared at you.

“Oh no, that’s cheating, come on!”

“I’m just that good Eddie Diaz, suck it up!”

You picked your prize, and he picked another, taking yours from it so he could carry it around for you.

You were grinning from ear to ear.

“You can keep that by the way.”

“What? But you won it.”

You smiled a little at him.

“Give it to your son, I remember you saying he was really into superheroes right now, I thought maybe he’d like a huge iron man plushie.”

Eddie smiled down at you.

“You remember that?”

“Of course, I remember everything you say. I know he’s really important to you.”

“Not many people are interested in seeing a guy who has a kid.”

You paused and so did he, turning around to look at you.

Walking over, you reached up, placing your hand on the side of his face, running your thumb along his cheek.

“Eddie it doesn’t bother me you have a son, I’m dating you for you, if you have a son that’s nothing to do with me. He’s your son, he’ll always come first, and I expect you to always put him before me. I’d be pretty pissed if you didn’t.”

Eddie turned his head, kissing the palm of your hand, then he leant down, connecting his lips with yours in a passionate kiss.

You moved your hand to the back of his head to hold him there, leaning up into the kiss, and you finally pulled away.

“I’m in this for us Eddie, however long that may be, and nothing will scare me away.”

He smiled, brushing his nose against yours before he kissed you once more and fully pulled away.

“I want you to meet him.”

“Yeah?”

“He’s the most important person to me, and I really like you, I like what we’ve got going on, and I really want you to meet each other. Is that okay? Because if it isn’t you don’t have too.”

“Yeah, I’d love that. Just me when.”

He gave a nervous smile.

“How about today? You can give him this toy?”

“Really?”

“Is that okay?”

“Hell yeah, let’s go!”

You grabbed his arm and began dragging him back to the car.

Truth be told you were nervous about meeting his son, you knew how important Christopher was to Eddie, and you wanted to make a good impression.

But at the same time you didn’t want to impose on them either, you didn’t want Christopher to think you were taking his dad away or trying to change anything.

Eddie was nervous about introducing the pair of you, he really liked having you around, he wanted to have you around his apartment, cook for you, get you involved with much more instead of seeing you once a week.

As you guys reached his apartment you were nervously holding his hand while he unlocked the door.

“Buck?”

The man came padding around the corner and you offered a wave which made Buck grin.

“Oh I’m so getting out of here.”

He grabbed his jacket and jogged out of the apartment.

“Wait here.”

Eddie kissed your cheek, wondering over to the couch and he crouched down in front of his son, hugging him gently.

They spoke quietly and finally Eddie gestured for you to come over and you did.

You sat next to Christopher.

“Hey, I’m (Y/N). It’s really nice to meet you.”

“Are you my dad’s girlfriend?”

“Yeah, that’s right. I got something for you.”

You held the plushie out, and the boy took it, laughing a little as he held it tightly in his arms.

“Do you like my dad?”

You smiled at Christopher brightly, nodding your head, looking over at Eddie who had walked over to the kitchen.

“Oh yeah, I do. But I know your dad loves you a lot. So I was hoping maybe we could be friends.”

“Who’s your favourite superhero?”

You hummed a little bit, leaning back on the couch.

“That’s hard, but I think it has to be Hawkeye. I think he’s really cool.”

“But he has no superpower.”

“That’s what makes him super cool, he’s got no powers but he still saves people, he kinda reminds of of your dad..” you whispered.

Christopher beamed brightly, looking at you and he leant back at as well.

“My dad has been really happy.”

“Yeah?”

Christopher nodded a little bit.

“Where do you work?”

You began to tell him everything, answering all of his questions and when Eddie turned around he wore a soft smile as he looked at the pair of you.

You two seemed to be getting along really well, and he couldn’t ask for anything more

#911 imagine #911 fandom #911 fic #911 fanfic #911 x reader #911 x you #Eddie Diaz #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz x you #eddie diaz imagine

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getinthecar-elizabeth · 2 months ago

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Title: Nosebleeds 🌸

Pairing: Kylian x girlfriend!reader

Summary: A fun day ends with a nosebleed (fluff)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You and Kylian spent the whole day at the amusement park, riding different rides and playing games. The sun beat down on you, and the crowds were thick, but Kylian didn't get overwhelmed, allowing you to enjoy your day. As the sun began to set, Kylian took you to a nearby restaurant, where you had dinner, and then headed to his place. You felt nervous as you entered his house, having visited many times in your two-year relationship but never stayed overnight. This would be the first time you slept at his place, and you weren't sure what to expect.

Kylian led you to the couch, putting away the prizes you'd won at the park. "So, did you have fun?" he asked, flopping down beside you with a bright smile.

"Yeah, I did," you replied, your own smile spreading across your face.

"That's good. I'm glad," Kylian said, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Me too," you added, your voice barely above a whisper.

Kylian noticed your sudden nervousness and frowned. "Hey, everything okay?" he asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Yeah," you smiled weakly, your discomfort evident.

"Chérie, you know you can talk to me about anything, right?" Kylian gently lifted your chin, his eyes searching yours.

"Yeah, I know," you sighed, your shoulders sagging.

"Then tell me, what's wrong?" Kylian asked, his voice soft and encouraging, as he rubbed your hands.

"I'm a bit nervous..." you trailed off, your eyes darting to his.

"About what?" Kylian's curiosity was piqued.

"Sleeping here," you admitted, your voice barely audible.

Kylian's expression changed from confusion to understanding. "Ooh...Chérie, don't worry. We won't do anything you don't want to. We'll just sleep," he reassured you, his smirk playful.

"Okay," you said shyly.

"Unless...you want to do something," Kylian teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Kyky, stop!" you blushed, pushing his shoulder, and he burst out laughing.

"I'm just kidding, chérie," he said, his grin mischievous.

"I know," you smiled genuinely.

"Why don't we go to bed? It's late," Kylian suggested.

"Okay," you agreed.

You followed Kylian to the bedroom, got ready, and climbed into bed. You lay on your sides, facing each other, and had a nice pillow talk before drifting off to sleep. You slept peacefully until you woke up choking. Kylian quickly turned on the lights, and you saw the concern etched on his face. Your hand instinctively cupped your nose as blood flowed from it, staining the pillow. Kylian swiftly removed his t-shirt and pressed it to your face. You took it and held it under your nose, and then Kylian helped you to the bathroom. He made you stand in front of the sink, wet a towel with cold water, and gently replaced his t-shirt with the wet towel. He waited patiently until your nose stopped bleeding. You washed your face and returned to the bedroom, looking at the bloodstained pillow in embarrassment.

"Kylian, I'm so sorry. I got blood on your pillow," you apologized.

"Hey, it's okay. It was an accident," Kylian said, holding your hands.

"But it's white, and the blood..." you trailed off, panic creeping into your voice.

"Chérie, it's alright," Kylian hugged you, his voice soothing. "It's just a pillow. I'm just glad nothing bad happened."

"I thought your nosebleeds weren't bothering you anymore?" Kylian asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Not as much, but they do happen sometimes," you replied. "It must be because of the time we spent in the sun today," you added, referring to your time at the park.

"I see, it's okay. Next time I'll be more mindful," Kylian said.

"Now let's get you some water and back to bed." Kylian went to get you a bottle of water from the kitchen. You sat on the bed waiting for him. After he gave you the water, he handed you another t-shirt of his to sleep in and another pillow. You changed your bloodied top and the pillow and got into bed. Kylian then switched off the lights and got in next to you, throwing his arm around you and pulling you close.

"I'm sorry about your pillow," you whispered in the dark.

"It's alright, Chérie, go to sleep," Kylian kissed your forehead, and you both drifted off to sleep, peacefully

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

And I am back 😁

I missed you guys ♥

#kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe imagine #footballer x reader #kylian mbappe fluff #mbappe x reader

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aces-personal-whore · 2 months ago

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Doflamingo x Defiant!Reader Smut Ch. 1

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4]

Hello, friends! Welcome to my new Doffy fanfic! This story takes a bit of a different direction from my last fanfiction. Instead of being subordinate, you are resistant and defiant towards Doffy. Reader is AFAB. Second person POV for this story! Doflamingo is very assertive and holds true to his personality (the cocky asshole we all love). A lot of fanfics I've read don't really tap into his true personality and make him incredibly out of character or in an alternate universe type thing where he falls for the reader, so I'm here to write about Doffy and what he would realistically do in the situations I've put him in. Reader is assumed to be the same age as myself (26), but age is never mentioned.

☣️WARNINGS: NONCON/RAPE, NSFW, MDNI, smut, assault, sexual assault

Themes in this chapter: NONCON/RAPE, Aggressive domination, forced submission, forced creampie, breeding, inflation, mild BDSM, degradation

Notes: PLEASE KEEP IN MIND THAT THERE IS NONCON/RAPE THROUGHOUT THIS ENTIRE FANFICTION. THIS FANFICTION IS VERY GRAPHIC AND MAY BE TRIGGERING, UPSETTING, OR DISTRESSING TO SOME READERS. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!!

P.S. I'm sorry if I forgot to change any pronouns/names/etc. ;-; I did my best, okay.

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[Chapter 1]

You had a few errands to run today. You threw on your favourite dress, grabbed your bag, and headed out the door. Dressrosa was a very lovely place, and you enjoyed living there. Your mom brought you guys here a few years ago, and you moved out on your own only last year. You checked your list of things you needed to do for the day: get groceries, get pet food, and check out the new local game store. You began walking to the fresh produce stands in downtown Dressrosa when you felt something like a pinch on the back of your neck, like a mosquito had bit me or something. You brought your hand up to where you felt the pinch to swat away the mosquito, when your body suddenly started moving on its own. You began heading towards the flower hill where the palace is. You tried resisting your body's involuntary movements, panicking, but no matter how much you tried resisting, your body continued forwards towards the castle. "What the fuck is happening?! Why can't I control my body?!" You thought to yourself, your anxiety rising.

From the shadows, Doflamingo had been watching you, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He had been watching you for a while, and decided you were the perfect victim. He headed back towards his castle, stringing you along. He stopped at the entrance of his palace overlooking the flower hill as you forcefully approached him.

"Fufufufu~ my, my aren't you just lovely?" Doflamingo flashed his signature smile with his devious laugh, turning around to face you.

You fight the parasite strings Doflamingo had embedded in you, attempting to run away. "What the fuck is going on?! What am I doing here?!" There was a lace of panic in your voice.

"Oh, don't be so jumpy, my dear. I simply find you irresistible, and I want to claim you as mine." Doflamingo casually stated as he watched you struggle.

"Your (h/c) hair, that shade of (e/c) in your eyes, the freckles decorating your skin [a/n: sorry if you don't have freckles ;-;], and that perfect body... You're the most attractive woman I've ever laid my eyes on."

He approached you, making sure to be close enough for you to feel his presence, but not so close that you could feel his breath on your face.

"I have this feeling that you'll make a delightful addition to my collection. So, I'm afraid you'll have to come with me." Doflamingo's smirk deepened, and he gave the strings a light tug, causing you to stumble a bit. "I'm just dying to see if my intuition was right... You're going to be my little project, my most precious and prized possession."

You scowled at Doflamingo as you're brought inside the palace against your will. "Project?! Possession?!"

"That's right, my dear. I can sense your resistance, and that only turns me on more. I want to see you squirm under my control." Doflamingo's grin never faltered as he continued to lead you into his palace. "Now, don't make this more difficult than it needs to be. You're already mine, and I shall have my way with you." He chuckled, throwing a glance back at you from time to time, making sure to bask in the sight of your struggle.

You struggled to keep up with Doflamingo and his impressive 10 foot tall stature. You had to practically run to keep up with him. "Like hell I would let you do that shit to me!"

"You're perfect for the role I have in mind, and I'll be sure to reward you for your cooperation." Doflamingo pulled the strings with more force, forcing you to move faster, showing no mercy in dragging you to your new home.

"I'm not doing shit. Fuck you," you spat at Doflamingo, slightly panting from the running.

"Oh, how delightful. You're such a lively specimen, and I can't wait to see what you're truly capable of. You'll be my pet, my little plaything, and I'll make sure to see every single inch of you. You'll come to enjoy it, I assure you. The humiliation, the pain, and the pleasure will all be yours. I'll break you down and build you back up into the perfect host for my offspring." Doflamingo's eyes gleamed with excitement, his voice dripping with malice and lust as he spoke. "And when that day comes, you'll thank me for choosing you."

Doflamingo's words metaphorically made you stop in your tracks, since you had no control over your body. You tried digging your heels in the ground to slow your movements down. Your face was filled with anger and disgust as he spoke. "What the fuck?!" He was treating you like a fucking object.

"Ah, such a feisty one. I'm going to enjoy breaking your spirit and making you mine." Doflamingo manipulated your parasite string, yanking you off your feet and continuing to walk with you dangling in the air. "I've made up my mind, and I'll have what I want. You'll be my precious little project, my own personal pleasure, and I'll mold you into the woman I desire." Doflamingo's smirk never faltered as he continued his stroll through the palace, dragging you behind him. "Your opinion on the matter is irrelevant."

You scoffed at his remarks and scowled at him as you're brought to his personal room, being drug through the air via his strings.

"Here we are, my dear. Your new home." Doflamingo stopped in front of a grand, ornate door, opening it to reveal a lavish room filled with all the luxuries one could imagine. "You'll be pampered, cherished, and cared for like a queen. Of course, I'll have to break you first, but that's just a small price to pay for such bliss, isn't it?"

He dragged you inside, the strings making sure you were right where he wanted you to be. Once you were in the center of the room, he released the strings, letting you fall to the ground with a thud. You stood up, adjusting your dress.

"Now, let's see how you can be shaped into my perfect little prize." Doflamingo's eyes gleamed, and he began to formulate his plans for your transformation. "As I said, I'll reward your cooperation, and I expect you to be a good girl for me. You wouldn't want to disappoint me, would you?"

You crossed your arms across your chest, continuing to scowl at him. "Yeah, that's not going to happen," you said with slight annoyance and anger in your voice.

"You're going to make this so much fun." Doflamingo's lips curled into a wicked smile as he approached you, his eyes filled with a predatory gleam. "I'll break you, and I'll make you mine. You'll come to see that there's no escape. I am your new master, and you are my new pet. Now, don't make me regret this decision by being a naughty little thing. Cooperate, and I'll give you everything you could ever want."

He stood above you, his hand reaching down for your arm as he prepared to lead you to your first lesson in submission.

You smacked his arm away "Don't fucking touch me!" You glared at him. This only prompted him to be more aggressive with you.

"Ah, you're even more perfect than I imagined." Doflamingo's eyes roamed over your body as he deftly removed your clothes. He admired your body, his eyes lingering on your breasts, your curvy hips, and your round ass, before he finally let his hands explore your skin. "I can't wait to see how you'll look with my child growing inside you, bearing my legacy in the world." Doflamingo's voice had a lustful edge to it as he continued to undress you, leaving you completely exposed before him. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as his hot breath sent shivers down your spine. "We're going to have so much fun."

"STOP... FUCKING... TOUCHING ME!!" you snapped at him, getting angrier by the second. Your anger and defiance continued to only add fuel to the fire.

"Oh, you little slut. You're mine, and I'll do whatever the fuck I want with you. You don't have a say in any of this, so you better get used to it." He pushed you against the wall, pinning you down with his body.

"Now, you listen to me, you miserable cunt. I'm going to turn you into the perfect little breeding bitch. You'll carry my children and worship the ground I walk on." He leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck as he whispered in your ear. "And if you don't comply, I'll make you regret the day I took pity on you."

Doflamingo's hand traveled down your body, cupping your breast roughly as he squeezed it, and then moved lower, rubbing your clit. He then thrust a finger into your cunt, still teasing your clit, his other hand holding you in place against the wall. "Now, are we clear on this?" His voice was a dangerous mix of desire and threat, his finger continuing to tease you, the other hand gripping your arm tightly, leaving red marks as he held you.

You winced and panted at Doflamingo's sudden aggression. You looked into your reflection in his sunglasses, and what you saw was yourself glaring at him. "Doflamingo... fucking... STOP." You brought your leg and foot up, placing it on his arm as you attempted to push his hand away from your pussy, kicking at his arm.

"Oh, did you just defy me, you little bitch?" Doflamingo's grip tightened on your arm in response, causing you to yelp in pain. "Now, you listen to me. You don't get to make any decisions here. I decide what happens to you, and you will follow my orders. If you keep pushing me, I'll show you what happens to disobedient slaves." Doflamingo's breathing became heavier, and his touch more insistent, ignoring your attempts to push him away.

"Slave?! I'm not your fucking slave! Stop doing this to me!" Rage was building inside you as he continued to violate your body against your will.

"You're my property, my little breeding bitch. I'll do with you what I please, and you'll submit to my every whim." He continued to tease you, his other hand not letting up on your arm, disregarding your kicks. "You're mine, and I'll break you until you understand your place. You'll learn to love me, to crave my touch, and to worship the ground I walk on."

His grip on your arm left bruises as he maneuvered you to the bed, pushing you down before positioning himself between your legs. "Now, you'll listen to me, and you'll accept your fate as my property. You're mine, and you'll do as you're told." Doflamingo's voice was laced with a mix of desire and menace. "Now, are we clear on this?" His grip on your arm didn't loosen, and his finger returned to your pussy. "You're my breeding bitch now, and you'll serve me to the best of your ability. I will not accept anything less."

Your feet now pressed into his elbow dips in attempt to push him away from the assault he's doing to your body. "Eat shit! I'm not doing anything for you!" Your voice was seething with rage and anger now.

"You really are a stubborn one, aren't you?" Doflamingo let out a sigh. "Fine, if that's how it's going to be." He removed his finger from you, standing up, and then undoing the strings on his pink tiger striped pants. "I'll show you what it's like to be mine, whether you like it or not."

Doflamingo's cock was hard and ready as he moved forward, his eyes locked on yours as he guided it to your entrance. It was much, much bigger than any other cock you've seen "Brace yourself, my dear. This is only the beginning." He began to push inside you.

"GET OFF OF ME!!" Tears began forming in your eyes as you struggled against his advances, trying to push yourself away from him and to get him to not fuck you. "DO NOT PUT THAT INSIDE ME!!" You began panicking as his cock stretched your pussy impossibly wide, causing it to tear and bleed.

"Ah, so feisty. I like that." Doflamingo's grip moved your legs as he forced them apart, tying them down with his devil fruit strings. "You feel so tight, so good. I knew I made the right choice in picking you." He thrust deeper into you, a groan escaping his lips. "Your cunt is unlike any other I've had before. It's perfect." Doflamingo's voice was laced with lust as he began to move faster. "I'm going to fuck this perfect pussy as much as I want, whenever I want. Whether you like it or not."

You groaned in discomfort, tears falling down your cheeks. You panted heavily in exhaustion from struggling against Doflamingo's advances. There was no way you could break free from his strings. They were practically unbreakable.

"There's no use fighting it, my dear. You're mine, and there's no escaping me." Doflamingo's voice was calm and composed, despite the intense pleasure he was deriving from your body.

"Look at you, all flushed and panting. You might hate me now, but you'll soon learn to love this. Your body was made for mine. It's a match made in heaven." Doflamingo's thrusts became slower, more deliberate, as he savoured the feeling of your tightness around him. "Fuck, you feel so good, so perfect. I could fuck you for hours and never get enough." He reached down, his hand cupping your breast, his thumb brushing against your nipple.

Your body was overflowing with various emotions... You didn't know how to feel. Violated, angry, enraged, unheard... However, despite your anger and hatred, your body responded to his advances. Blood began flowing to your sex organs, involuntarily becoming aroused to accommodate the onslaught of Doflamingo's assault, providing lubrication to ease the pain, in addition to his precum coating your walls. Tears ran down your cheeks as he continued his assault.

"I can see how your body is reacting. It's begging for my seed, isn't it?" Doflamingo's voice was soft and seductive, his grip on your hips never faltering as he continued to toy with you. "Soon you'll be begging for more, to feel my seed inside you."

His thrusts became erratic, his pace growing more intense as he chased his own climax. Doflamingo's teeth were gritted, his eyes locked on yours as he continued to fuck you, the changes in your body only fueling his desire to make you submit to him completely.

"Ah, a new angle might help you reach that orgasm you're so desperately resisting." Doflamingo undid the strings around your legs and pulled out, before pushing you onto all fours, your face pressed into the mattress. He wrapped new strings around your shoulders, securing you in place as you remained face down, your ass in the air.

Doflamingo's thumbs spread your labia, admiring his prize. "Such a tight, wet little cunt. And it's all mine" Doflamingo's cock was eager to enter you again as he lined himself up with your entrance. He began to thrust into you from behind, his pace slow and deliberate, savouring the feeling of your tightness around him once more.

"You feel so good, so perfect. I'm going to fuck you until you submit to me completely." Doflamingo's voice was a mix of lust and dominance as he continued to take his pleasure from your body. His thrusts grew more intense, his grip moving to your hips, never faltering as he continued to fuck you, determined to make you submit to the pleasure he was giving you. "Give in, my dear. You know you want to."

"I refuse!" Doflamingo was really trying to take your orgasm by force. "I'll never give in to you!"

Doflamingo thrusted all the way inside you, holding his position there for a moment, his hands grabbing and groping your ass, eliciting a moan from him. "You feel so good, so perfect. I've never had a pussy this tight before." He began to slowly thrust in and out of you, his hands continuing to grope your ass. Doflamingo's voice was filled with lust and dominance as he continued to take his pleasure from your body, unwilling to let go of you until he made you submit to the pleasure he was giving you.

Doflamingo squeezed your legs and ass cheeks together, his moan echoing in the room as he felt how tight you were around him. "Oh, so fucking tight. I'm going to enjoy this." He pressed your lower body forward, forcing your back to arch, giving him even more access to your tightness.

As Doflamingo's thrusts became more intense, your breath was essentially being knocked out of you with each thrust. You gripped the sheets beneath you.

"I'm going to fuck your perfect cunt as much as I want, and I'm going to cum inside you every single time. It doesn't matter how you feel, what you say, or how you resist. You belong to me, and I'm going to do whatever the fuck I want with you." Doflamingo's voice was filled with dominance and lust as he continued to thrust into you, his pace growing more erratic as he neared his own climax. "Your purpose is to get fucked by me, to carry my lineage. And I'm going to make sure I cum inside you as much as possible to ensure you get pregnant."

"Fuck, I'm going to cum inside your perfect cunt, whether you like it or not!" Doflamingo's voice was filled with lust and dominance as he thrust as deep as he could, his glans lodged in your cervix.

"NO-!! STOP!! DOFLAMINGO STOP!" You fought with all of your might to get away and prevent him from cumming inside you.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going? Like I'd let you escape my pleasure!" He gripped on your shoulders and he forced you back onto his cock. Doflamingo's body began to convulse as he came, his testicles drawing up and tightening, pulsing against your clit with each throb of his cock, pouring massive amounts of his semen into your uterus. You felt yourself fill with his seed, a visible swelling in your lower abdomen as he successfully mated with you.

"Oh, fuck, look at you swell with my seed. It's so goddamn hot." Doflamingo possessively wrapped his hands around your stomach, caressing it as he felt it continue to swell, further prolonging his orgasm, driving him to ejaculate even more inside you.

The sight that unfolded was of Doflamingo's thick cock buried deep inside your tight pussy. Your stomach swelled visibly with the amount of cum he had filled you with, the white fluid leaking out of the corners of your stretched lips, evidence of his claim on you.

His hands cradled your stomach, his fingers splayed over the growing mound as he continued to pump his seed into you, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he desperately tried to fill you with as much of his essence as possible.

"I love watching your stomach swell with my seed, knowing that it's going to grow my offspring. You're mine, and I'm going to make sure you never forget that." His voice was filled with lust, dominance, and possession as he continued to cum inside you, his grip on your body never faltering as he reveled in the sight of his seed claiming your body as his own.

You continued to grip the sheets beneath you to try and crawl away with the little amount of energy you had left, but the deed had been done. You couldn't escape Doflamingo's grasp or his onslaught of assault. Tears were flowing down your cheeks as reality continued to set in.

Doflamingo's grip on you remained firm as he dislodged his glans from your cervix. His hand traced patterns along your now swollen abdomen, using his devil fruit strings to seal your cervix, sealing his seed inside you, ensuring none would leak out.

"Don't worry, your body will take care of the rest. I've done my part, and now it's up to nature to do its work." Doflamingo's eyes met yours, his gaze filled with a mix of lust, dominance, and satisfaction as he continued to caress your swollen stomach, reveling in the fact that he had successfully mated with you and claimed your body as his own.

"You'll get used to it, and in time, you'll thank me for giving you the opportunity to host my offspring." His grip on you never faltered as he continued to take in the feeling of his seed swelling your stomach, his fingers gently splayed over the mound, as if he were cradling the most precious treasure in the world.

"For now, rest, my dear. You've been through a lot, and you'll need your strength for what's to come." Doflamingo's voice was soft, but there was no doubt about the dominance and ownership in his tone as he continued to revel in his conquest, his possession of you complete.

"You're mine now, whether you want it or not." Doflamingo's words echoed in your mind as he pulled out, removed his strings from your body, and put his clothes back on.

He left the room, leaving you alone, your mind reeling from what had just happened. The thought of being raped crossed your mind, and you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of violation.

You collapsed onto the bed, your body shaking with a mixture of emotions, from shock to grief. After regaining your strength, you got up, your movements slow and heavy, as if you were walking through molasses.

You approached the mirror, your hands automatically moving to your stomach as you took in your reflection. The swollen abdomen was a stark reminder of what had happened, and your face crumpled as you put your hands to your face, tears flowing unabated.

The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on your heart, and all you could do was cry, the tears a physical manifestation of the turmoil you felt inside. Doflamingo's claim on you was absolute, and for the first time in your life, you were completely at the mercy of another.

#dofamingo #one piece #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote family #doffy #doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x reader smut #fem reader #one piece smut #x reader #doflamingo smut #smut

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