mars-library

[mars-library]

— ꒰ joel miller x f! reader ꒱ BRAINROT ! !

warnings kitchen sex, pet names, joel being a horny motherfucker. joel lives a happy ending with you ellie and dina on the farm idc i don’t wanna hear anything about it!

Joel can’t help the way he groans into your neck, hands wrapped around your torso as he inches up his t-shirt that you wear until it’s bunched under your boobs.

“Joel, Ellie and Dina will be back any minute.”

The scruff of Joel’s beard scratches your neck as he sloppily kisses the soft skin.

“you can see, baby,” he grumbled groggily into your skin, hinting to the large window in front of you, “keep a look out yeah?”.

You can’t look out for anything as your eyes roll back, bent over the kitchen bench as he buries his cock deep in your cunt, creamy arousal squelching on skin-to-skin as he flicks your clit with thick fingers. His shirt hangs low off your shoulder exposing the skin he had littered with lovebites just last night.

It’s fucking 7am and you can’t believe you’re crying out untameable as he brings you to an intense finish, sleep creeping back into your system.

His efficiency gives you enough time to straighten yourselves up just seconds before Ellie and Dina walk through the door with fresh eggs and bread, Joel licking his fingers clean of your juices.

“Mornin’ girls.”

Sick. Bastard.

[mars-library]

not good enough | charles leclerc social media au

paring: charles leclerc x reader

charles' girlfriend gets a lot of hate online and he usually stays out it because she knows how to handle it...but sometimes people just need a little reminder that they're in love asian faceclaim: christina nadin - british/filipino influencer

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 26,522 others

yourusername 'come to paris' charles said, 'it'll be fun' mate it literally smells like ass and i dont speak french

view all 108 comments

charles_leclerc i've been translating everything for you, you're fine

pierregasly should have visited milan instead

charles_leclerc are you hitting on my girlfriend pierregasly milan is simply better than paris yourusername we're going to milan next time

hamiltyres shes so real for this

lightsouthannah she complains about everything why does charles put up with her

55carlando4 are they there for paris fashion week??

charles_leclerc added to their story

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, noviaelegante and 43,159 others

yourusername day 2

view all 315 comments

pierregasly how did charles convince you to leave the hotel?

yourusername he told me i wouldn't have to stay for the fashion show yourusername he lied charles_leclerc 🙄🙄🙄

noviaelegante love the fit😍 check your dm's girly!

hammilstop is it just me or does y/n seen ungrateful?

jemmaf1 yeah i was thinking the same thing

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari and 412,110 others

charles_leclerc Celine Homme 2023🖤 Merci celine

view all 1,382 comments

yourusername pretty

charles_leclerc you should have came with yourusername i had nothing to wear charles_leclerc thats a horrible excuse

scuderiaferrari 😍😍😍😍

luvfrom63 i dont understand why y/n goes to paris with charles but then refuses to attend the shows

yourusername added to their story

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, noviaelegante and 31,121 others

tagged: noviaelegante

yourusername a sustainable fashion show that promotes empowering women living in recovering nations? sign me up

view all 210 comments

noviaelegante so happy to have you attend🖤

charles_leclerc you should have modelled one of them

yourusername im not putting on a wedding dress until you give me a reason to

pierregasly when are you walking down the aisle?

yourusername when someone puts a rock on my finger pierregasly is this an open invitation? charles_leclerc mate dont even think about proposing to my girl

channyinthepaddock THATS what she wore to the show? girl💀

kaleyschumacher its a no from me

lewisfanclub im sorry are we not going to talk about pierre's comments????????

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 297,192 others

charles_leclerc The man!! doni.nahmias

view all 5,201 comments

yourusername sorry i missed your show doni.nahmias ❤️❤️

doni.nahmias the drinks are on your tab tonight yourusername thats fair

caraf1fan charles slays at another fashion show and y/n can't even bother to attend and support her friend? what is wrong with her

mickysunshine y/n do better💀💀

yourusername added to their story

yourusername added to their story

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 37,612 others

yourusername these pictures were taken within 45 minutes of each other

view all 412 comments

charles_leclerc beautiful in both 🖤

pierregasly so she does know how to dress up

yourusername its our last night in paris i figured i'd put in some effort

hannahsformula idk i still think charles can do better than her

vivvverstappen nah her and charles are a power couple and anyone who says otherwise is so so wrong

luvforlance but why hasn't charles said anything about what shes been dealing with online 💀 he defends her the same way justin bieber defends hailey

yourusername im a big girl i can handle myself

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari and 417,923 others

charles_leclerc thank you dior for helping me end Paris Fashion Week in style

view all 7,301 comments

dior 🖤😍

yourusername hot

liked by charles_leclerc

mickandkmags forever wondering how y/n managed to pull charles when he looks like that and she wears jumpers and sweats 99% of the time

yourusername he loves my personality pierregasly yeah sure thats it

charles_leclerc added to their story

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 11,619 others

yourusername prettier than paris if you ask me

comments on this post are limited

charles_leclerc i agree

pierregasly not as pretty as milan

charles_leclerc will you please shut up about milan

pierregasly added to their story

yourusername added to their story

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 57,124 others

yourusername sorry, i thought a bitch on twitter said something

comments on this post are limited

charles_leclerc oh my

pierregasly oh my x2

landonorris people should piss you off more often

danielricciardo shes a keeper charlesleclerc

charlesleclerc trust me i know

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, paddockgf and 412,401 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc ma chérie

view all 7,134 comments

yourusername but am i hot enough for you?

charles_leclerc i like your personality yourusername good answer

pierregasly 😧😧😧

yourusername close your eyes pierre

yellowhaas charles really said 'shes all mine'

hamiltvvn but can he fight

f1fanclubs for so long people have been saying she doesnt deserve him...besties...i think its the other way around

liked by charles_leclerc

this felt like a rushed ending but oh well

masterlist here

[mars-library]

secret admin| charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

newest ferrari admin is starting to show favorites and the fans desperately try to put two and two together (alternate caption: ferrari admin loves to confuse the hell out of ferrari fans)

Keep reading

[mars-library]

secret admin | daniel ricciardo social media au

pairing: third driver danny ric x reader

admin loves daniel but he has a girlfriend, he jokes and claims that gf and admin are the same person...but what if it's not a joke anymore?

redbullracing

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 416,088 others

tagged: danielricciardo

redbullracing me when the boss man tells me i'm not allowed to post thirst traps of drivers hands on social media

view all 4,711 comments

danielricciardo yeah stick it to the man

landonorris red bull admin about to lose their job

sebstroll why do i feel like red bull admin is on THIN ICE

redbullracing because admin IS on thin ice 🥶🥶

itsnotcharles admin has a crush on daniel and is quite literally risking their job for it

liked by redbullracing

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriend and 368 others

yourusername topic is: I❤️NY

view all 19 comments

yourbestfriend ohhh she finally posts the mystery man

yourusername 😉😉😉

f1wagupdates

liked by paddockgf, hamiltonn44 and 6,792 others

f1wagupdates Daniel Ricciardo seen in NYC with a new girl attached to his hip! No name yet but they must be serious if he brings her to the states weeks before COTA 🤔 leave your thoughts in the comments!

view all 318 comments

ghostlewis rip red bull admin, hope she's taking the news okay

gaslygal and here lies the red bull admin x danny ric romance 😥 gonna miss those interactions

paddockgf watch as red bull admin stops posting about danny ric now

redbullracing added to their story

yourusername

liked by chloestroll, yourbestfriend and 415 others

yourusername tonight

view all 26 comments

yourbestfriend how long are you in NY for??

yourusername idk man i just go where the job takes me

redbullracing

liked by landonorris, f1 and 571,993 others

tagged: danielricciardo

redbullracing save a horse ride a da- sorry, ride a cowboy

view all 67,880 comments

danielricciardo yeehaw baby

paddockgf sorRRY?? RIDE A DANIEL? admin is openly flirting with him on social media now

landonorris woah admin keep it g-rated

redbullracing just close your eyes young one

yourusername 🥵🥵🥵

liked by pierregasly and landonorris

danielricciardo

liked by redbullracing, pierregasly and 611,935 others

danielricciardo texas photo dump (did i do it right? pierregasly)

view all 29,007 comments

pierregasly 👌🏽👌🏽

hamiltonstire how is it that hes not even driving and he's still the most popular guy in the paddock

landonorris whos the girl

danielricciardo rbr admin landonorris pretty sure you shouldn't be kissing red bull's admin danielricciardo i do what i want

redbullracing danny ric ladies and gentlemen, everyone's (my) favorite cowboy

redbullracing added to their story

redbullracing added to their story

danielricciardo

liked by yourusername, redbullracing and 488,913 others

tagged: redbullracing

danielricciardo black and white

tracktalk admin is on a date with danny ric !!!!!! the jacket, the hat!! it's all the same as red bulls story post 🥺🥺

paddockgf wait okay maybe that Marina girl on twitter was right, this girl sort of looks like yourusername

landonorris she kind of looks familar, have i seen her around the paddock before?

danielricciardo are you dating the rbr admin too?

yourusername added to their story

danielricciardo

liked by yourusername, redbullracing and 613,892 others

tagged: yourusername

danielricciardo great day for a birthday

view all 18,992 comments

redbullracing why does she look familiar

danielricciardo have you looked in the mirror recently?

yourusername i love you thank you

landonorris happy birthday yourusername i also love you

danielricciardo are you flirting with the red bull admin? on social media? landonorris i learn from the best

paddockgf YAAAA IT'S CONFIRMED

russellstires someone tell the fbi to hire that marina girl

liked by redbullracing and danielricciardo

requests are open

[mars-library]

𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 | 𝐜𝐥 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: a secret wedding with a secret man

note: this was surprisingly a long one

yourusername

liked by bellahadid, zendaya, pierregasly and 871.639 others

yourusername hitched

view all 13.829 comments

ynlover EXCYSE ME WHST

bellahadid most beautiful bride

yourusername most beautiful bridesmaid

lovelyyn bella tell us what you know

itsalexa miss gurl who the fuck-

fleurdori hITCHED TO WHOM

yourusername

liked by charlesleclerc, kendalljenner, taylorswift and 902.362 others

yourusername in my lover era

view all 4.729 comments

lovelyyou nobody talk to me

lettersforyn im happy for her but also like i want to die. yall get me?

ynfan theyre giving wattpad mafia couple vibes

honeybadger charles is probably as heartbroken as we are

cl16_updates

liked by sharlechair, 55vamos, charlos16, and 3.829 others

cl16_updates charles with mystery girl in monte carlo taken by a fan

view all 619 comments

lechair that’s disgusting. give them their privacy

sharllll whoever she is is none of our business

charlesfan how are yall even sure that’s him

cl16_updates the fan has pictures with him wearing the same clothes

honeybadger first y/n got married and now this? i’m going to be sick

ynupdates

liked by letterforyn, honeybadger, ynfan and 1.729 others

ynupdates yn with her husband in monte carlo, monaco! no one knows who he is still

view all 971 comments

letterforyn i’m genuinely so happy for her

ynfan27 look at her going on her tippy toes 😭

ynfan17 yall weird asf for this

honeybadger something about him looks so familiar but i can’t put my finger on it

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55, lewishamilton and 961.392

charles_leclerc married life so far...

tagged: yourusername

view all 8.342 comments

yourusername so much for soft launching

charles_leclerc i can't do it, you're too beautiful

yourusername beautiful enough for you to do the laundry?

charles_leclerc nope. nobody is that beautiful. i did it last week, it's your turn.

yourusername 🙄

arthur_leclerc ha i knew all along

charlesfan WHAT

leclerclover OH MY GOD THAT CRAZY GIRL FROM TWITTER WAS RIGHT

pierregasly mum and dad

yourusername get tf off

ynfan now how tf did he bag her?

honeybadger I FUCKING TOLD YALL

[mars-library]

arranged series drabble: sempre e per sempre

Arranged Series Drabble: Sempre e Per Sempre

Pairing: mafia!chris evans x female reader

Warnings: lots of fluff, pregnancy mentioned.

A/N: I'm not crying. I'm not. There were absolutely NO TEARS shed while writing this. NONE. There is NO sarcasm in this authors note. NONE. 🙃

ANYWAY

THANK YOU GUYS FOR 10K!!! Here's a little 'where are they now' drabble. There will be more to come :)

W/C: 2.5k

Italian and Italian translation in italics. (i did not run my translations by anyone this time, sorry) likes, reblogs, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated! ❤

series masterlist

time-for-a-lullaby masterlist

“Sei la donna più bella che abbia mai visto.”  (You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.)

You rolled your eyes as Chris’s arms slid around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. His lips found the crook of your neck, placing a gentle kiss on your skin. Even after all of these years, his affection and love for you had never faltered. Every chance he got, his hands or lips were on you. Or his mouth was inches away from your ear, whispering his love for you and your family as if you could ever forget just what you meant to him. 

You stopped icing the cake on the counter, turning into his embrace and wrapping your arms around his neck. The same cologne he’d been wearing since your wedding night wafted through the air, making you smile. Sandalwood and citrus. Your favorite.  “Lo dici a tutte le tue mogli,” (You say that to all of your wives.)  You teased. 

“Ah, yes. But I mean it when I say it to you,” He winked, moving out of your grasp when you reached down to pinch his side. 

“You’re so full of shit,” you laughed, turning back to the cake on the counter. The icing was a beautiful pale pink, matching the rest of the party decor around the villa. You’d offered to make a trip to the bakery down the road, but Rina insisted on having you make it, stating that it wasn’t a birthday unless the cake was made by you. 

You loved that your girls appreciated your baking as much as you loved doing it. Over the years, it became something that the family did together for nearly every ‘milestone’. Every birthday, every anniversary, every aced test, the whole family gathered in the kitchen, following the recipe in one of your handwritten recipe books while you laughed and celebrated the occasion. 

Now that the girls were out on their own, it was something you missed. 

Though you wouldn’t admit it to either of them, you were dreading the possibility that they wouldn’t ask for things like this anymore, that time hadn’t come. So you were enjoying it while you could. 

Chris swiped his finger against the inside of the icing bowl, bringing it to his mouth for a taste test. He groaned, “Mio dio, cara. I don’t know how you do it.” (My god, dear/darling)

You grinned, swatting his hand as he went back for a second taste. “Lots of time and patience. Something you know little about.” 

He let out a laugh, easing the icing spatula from your hand and setting it on the counter. Chris snagged your hand, spinning you into his arms. “I love you, cara.”

You smiled sweetly, lifting your thumb to swipe away the tiny bit of pink icing on the corner of his mouth. “I love you, too. But I have to finish this cake before Rina gets here.” 

“The cake can wait,” he insisted, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks. His thumb ghosted over your cheekbone, blues eyes shimmering with nothing but the purest form of love. Your mind flashed back to the conversation you’d had with your old housekeeper, Gina. How at one point in time, the blue in Chris’s eyes resembled something cold and icy. He was closed off to the world and to those closest to him. 

But now, whenever his gaze found yours, you saw nothing but love. The cold and ice melted into an endless sea of blue, free and warm, swimming with an unbridled love for his family and those he could trust. 

When Gina told you that it was because of you, it didn’t feel right taking credit for such a change. But now, you knew. Chris’s world was nothing but death and betrayal. 

He needed someone to come along and prove to him that there was so much more to life than the cruel one he’d been living. And that’s exactly what you did. Proving to yourself just as much as him that your life together was something meaningful and vastly different from the one that you lived before marriage. 

“Did I ever tell you what I whispered to you that night on the ferris wheel?” 

Your brows furrowed, trying to recall what he had said. Your Italian has obviously improved greatly since then, but it was so long ago and the words were so foreign to you at the time, you weren’t sure how to hold onto them until you could properly translate them. “No, I don’t think you did.” 

The corner of his mouth turned up into a small smile, his hands still framing your face with a delicate touch. “Da questo bacio in poi, fino al mio ultimo respiro, sarò tuo.” (From this kiss on, until my last breath, I will be yours)

You took a shaky breath, your eyes immediately filling with tears. 

“I knew that night I was falling in love with you.” 

“Chris–” you choked out, your bottom lip quivering as you fought to form something coherent enough to say out loud. 

“Thank you for giving me a life of love and happiness.” 

Before your mind could catch up with all of the emotions currently swirling around inside of it, Chris’s lips were pressed against yours. You melted into him, circling your arms around his middle to keep him as close as possible. 

He could thank you all he wanted, but he’d done just as much as you to fill your life with an abundance of love and laughter. 

Chris’s lips moved against yours, soft and slow like he was committing this moment to memory. 

You were so lost in the man you loved, neither of you heard the front door open. 

“Ick!” 

You rolled your eyes, pulling away from Chris as your daughter pretended to gag. 

“You guys are disgusting.” 

Turning to look at Rina, you smiled at the love in her eyes. She might say that you and Chris were gross, but she loved seeing her parents still so infatuated with each other.

She made her way into the kitchen, dropping a few grocery bags onto the counter before walking over to where you stood to kiss your cheek. “Hi, mamma.” At 24, Carina and Mariella had both taken after their father when it came to height. Both of them towered over you, standing only a couple of inches shorter than Chris. It was infuriating. 

Though, it proved useful for Ella when she decided to take up modeling. 

Chris scoffed, his hands slapping against his sides. “Che cosa sono?” (What am I?)  He mumbled under his breath. 

Carina laughed, turning to Chris and stretching up to kiss his cheek. “Hello, papa.”

He waved her off with a grin, but not before kissing her temple. “Dov'è mia nipotina?” (Where’s my granddaughter?)

A tiny voice spoke up from the foyer, following the sound of her tiny dress shoes as she ran through the villa to get to the kitchen. “Sono qui, nonno!” (I’m here, grandpa!) 

Chris grinned at the sound of your granddaughter’s voice, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He had aged like fine wine, his brunette hair almost completely faded to grey at this point and you’d loved every single second of watching him transform into a silver fox. He was as handsome as ever, even more so with his sights on the little girl that truly owned his heart. 

Carina’s husband, Leo, escorted Luna into the kitchen, her little legs working overtime to get to Chris. Those two were the best of friends, basically inseparable when they were together. 

He offered a quick hug to your son-in-law before bending over to scoop Luna into his arms. “Ciao angioletto mio.” (Hello, my angel.)

“Ciao, nonno!” (Hello, grandpa.) 

Your heart swelled as Chris pinched her cheek. “Her Italian is so good!” 

Rina nodded, smiling softly at her soon-to-be three-year-old daughter wrapped in Chris’s arms. “I know, she’s been doing so well.” 

Just like you and Chris had raised the twins, Leo and Rina were raising their children to speak both Italian and English and Luna was doing so well to the point of only really wanting to speak Italian. 

“The cake looks so good, mamma. Thank you for doing it.”  She nodded at the abandoned two-tiered cake on the counter. 

You clasped your hands together. “Oh, right. Just a few final touches and then I’ll put it in the fridge until we’re ready.” 

“You do that, I’m gonna go pee. Again,” She rolled her eyes, her hands going to her belly. Rina was around seventeen weeks pregnant and just starting to show. “This child has made it his personal mission to bounce on my bladder every twenty minutes.” 

You smiled, remembering all too well what it felt like to have two of them taking turns bouncing around inside of you. Sometimes memories like that felt so distant and foggy around the edges, other times they were crystal clear like a high-definition movie playing through your mind. It was hard to accept the fact that life had really flown by, but there wasn’t a single thing you’d do differently.

All of the highs and lows you went through brought you right here, to this beautiful afternoon in Venice where you would soon celebrate your grandaughter’s third birthday surrounded by the people you loved most in this world. 

In just a few hours, your villa would be filled with friends and family. Laughter and loud voices would carry through the halls, there would be music and exaggerated stories of the men and everything they accomplished “in their prime”.

Before Chris decided to leave Boston and the mafia behind him, you cowered away from chaos because it usually meant blood, guns, or some law enforcement agency. Now, it meant laughing children spilling food and drink onto the floor and people trying to talk over the noise. It meant that your family would be in one place for the first time since Chris’s birthday in June. 

You craved the chaos these days instead of the way your footsteps echoed through an empty house. 

Blinking back the happy tears, you looked up from the cake and waited for someone to emerge from the foyer after the door opened and closed. 

After a few seconds, Ella and her girlfriend, Simone, walked in hand-in-hand, their smiles so wide it hurt your  cheeks to even look at them. You grinned, abandoning the pink cake once again to make your way over, wrapping your arms around both of their shoulders. 

“Oh, how I’ve missed you two.” 

They returned your embrace, Ella squeezing extra tight. You were always careful to only speak English with Simone around, not wanting her to feel left out. Ella was teaching her some Italian phrases, but you knew firsthand that it could be a tricky language to pick up.

“I missed you, mamma.” 

Just hearing those words coming from your daughters always warmed your chest. No matter how old they got, they always missed their mamma. 

“Did I hear the door?” Chris walked back into the room with Luna still perched on his hip. You looked over as a smile spread across his face. “Hi, you two.” He made his way over to wrap them in a hug as you returned to your place by the cake in the kitchen, determined to finish before another interruption pulled you away.

Ella, like you knew she would, immediately stole Luna from Chris and wrapped her in a bear hug. “Luna-Bug! You’re so big, bambina!” (baby.)

It was so rare to have everyone in the same house at once. 

Rina and Leo had moved out of Venice to a smaller providence to be closer to his job, and Ella and Simone bounced back and forth between France, the States, and your guesthouse. Lydia and Sebastian still lived in Boston, along with their daughters. All of Chris’s siblings still lived here in Venice, but all had their own families to tend to.

But soon, everyone would be here under one roof and you couldn’t wait. 

Ella placed Luna back into Chris’s arms, reaching down to thread her fingers with Simone’s again. Your eyes narrowed on the small flash of gold on Simone’s tan finger. Looking back up at them, they read the questions in your eyes with amused looks. 

The two of them had been together for almost three years now, you’d been waiting for the engagement announcement ever since you’d given Ella your own ring to propose with earlier in the year. After a few seconds of silence, you raised your eyebrows at your daughter and her girlfriend. 

Simone giggled and released Ella’s hand, raising her left one to show off the ring that once sat on your finger. It was gorgeous on her. There was no holding back the tears this time. 

They streamed down your face as you pulled them into a hug, unable to stop the squeal that burst from your lips. Chris chuckled, the arm that wasn’t holding Luna wrapped around the three of you. “Congratulations, you guys,” he said, squeezing once before letting go as Rina entered the room with Leo. 

“What’s happ-” She paused, her eyes widening. “You did it?!” She screamed, doing a little happy dance before walking over and joining in the group hug. 

“I’m sorry to announce it now, I know it’s Luna’s birthday. I just didn’t know when we’d all be together again,” Ella apologized, mumbling into Rina’s shoulder as you all hugged.

Rina shushed her. “Don’t you dare apologize! She has no idea what’s going on and you’re getting married!” She emphasized the last three words with a squeal similar to yours.

Your daughters laughed and after a moment, a silence fell over the room, only interrupted by sniffling noses and Luna whispering to Chris and asking him what was happening. 

“I’m so happy for you all,” You whispered, the emotion building in your throat making it impossible to talk any louder. 

You pulled away, swiping at the tears on your cheeks before framing Rina’s face. “You, the best mamma I have met. Luna and little Matteo are so lucky to have you.” 

She smiled, her own eyes reflecting the emotion in yours. “Thank you, mamma.”

“And you two.” You turned, placing your left hand on Ella’s cheek and your right hand on Simone’s. “I can’t tell you how happy I am for you. I have never seen two people more suited for each other. You will live a life of so much love and happiness. I can’t wait to witness it.” 

You backed away, attempting to blink away the tears as your family stood before you. It was so hard to think about the fact that one shitty man that dared to call himself your father and a deal to get you out of his house led to something so amazing. 

If Sebastian hadn’t asked Chris to save you, you never would’ve fallen in love. You never would’ve experienced this kind of happiness. You wouldn’t have Carina or Mariella. You wouldn’t have Leo, Luna, or Simone. Or little Matteo on the way. You wouldn’t have this home. 

One measly piece of paper that you used to daydream about ripping to shreds somehow re-arranged your life into something so beautiful and meaningful. 

You exchanged a loving look with Chris, one that told you he had every intention of upholding his promise.

Until his last breath, he was yours and you were his. 

Sempre e per sempre. (Forever and always.)

[mars-library]

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐞.

Summary:  You’ve been at Lloyd’s side for a few months now, and you’ve learned a lot— including how to distract him when a job goes wrong. Pairing:  Lloyd Hansen x Fem!Reader Warnings:  Absolute filthy smut, p in v, age gap (mid 20′s to Lloyd’s 41), slight sub/con dynamic, mentions of violence.

this is literally my first blurb/fic/thing in actual years so it’s not my best as i try and find back my footing, but i’ve decided to come back to tumblr and quench my thirst for this man lmao. let me know what you think of this & i’ll consider opening request soon. <3

Things didn’t always go the way he planned, and those days were… well, they were something. 

You didn’t really get the heat, though. The rest of the team behind computers with a bunch of text you barely understood were the ones who suffered through the wrathful peptalk, the rage induced ranting and raving from Lloyd echoing through the walls of the so-last-century luxury building.

Keep reading

[mars-library]

Maybe like a Drabble where he gets omega to send him nudes while he’s at practise and they have phone sex 😰😰😰

Okay so I kind of went full on slut mode and wrote the most depraved slutty thing ever. Be warned. 😩🥵

Pairing: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!reader

Warnings: phone sex, daddy!kink, dubcon/noncon, dark Steve, Steve has an obsession with your titties, Steve is a fuckboy, 18+ only, minors dni

Summary: Steve wants phone sex and it’s not like you can say no to him.

"Baby, send me a picture."

It's the first thing Steve says to you when you pick up the phone. You've just finished drying your hair and applying your skincare when your phone vibrates, your alpha's name glowing on the screen and making your heart skip a beat.

"Wh-What?" Your eyes widen immediately and you gulp, "Steve, I... I thought you were at practice?"

He grunts, "I am. We’re taking a break but the coach wants to keep us all night. Guess you won't see me until tomorrow."

His words make your heart sink — no Steve for the night? The thought makes the omega inside you mourn in desolate despair. You've gotten used to his intense warmth at night, and how he holds you so tightly and buries his face in your neck, and presses kisses on your skin and rubs you soothingly up and down your body, and-

"Omega. I asked you a question."

You quickly snap out of your daydream, "Oh. I'm sorry, Steve. I didn't hear you."

Steve sighs in irritation, "I asked you what you're doing right now."

"Well, I did the laundry and then I studied. Then I took a shower and now I've just finished my skincare and I'll probably just read my book before I go to bed."

"Mm, how was it?"

"My book? It's pretty good, actually. I'm almost finished with it, it's about—"

"Not the fucking book, your shower." Steve snaps before inhaling sharply, "Your shower, baby, how was it?"

You’re already dreading where he's going with this, "It was fine."

"Did you touch yourself?" He sounds strained, and you hope to God he's alone right now. He most likely is, because you hear his fly unzipping, and his tone grows husky. "Answer me, baby. Did you touch yourself in the shower?"

"N-No!"

"Don't lie, baby omega." Steve laughs hoarsely before clearing his throat, "I know you touch yourself. I don't like it because I want to be the only one who touches your little pussy because I own it. But it's still hot when I hear you in the shower sometimes."

Your mouth drops open, "What...No! I don't do that!"

Another chuckle, "Are you calling me a liar?"

"No! I just... You probably just... uh... You probably just misheard!" You want to bury your head in the ground, and a part of you is happy that your alpha isn't here to see how mortified you look in person.

"Mm, I don’t think I misheard your squeaky little moans, or the sound of you fingering yourself. Tell me baby, how many fingers can you fit up there?”

“Steve!”

“Address me properly, omega. Or else you don’t even want to know what I’ll do with you tomorrow.”

The edge in his tone and the looming threat of a punishment has you bowing your head, the phone trembling in your hands. “Sorry, daddy.”

“Good girl. Now tell me what you did in the shower.”

You’d rather die, but you know you have to answer him. “I —uh— I did what you just said.”

“I want you to say it.”

The heat is rising in your cheeks, and you look helplessly at Steve Junior, as if he could help you get out of this debacle. You can hear a steady pumping on the other end of the phone, and it doesn’t take a vivid imagination to realise what Steve’s doing.

“I—uh—I was touching myself.” You whisper.

“I know, baby. Daddy always knows.” You hear him spit down on his dick (or you imagine that’s what he’s doing) and then the pumping resumes. “That’s so fucking hot, my baby omega touching herself and thinking about her daddy in the shower. How many fingers could you fit in, baby?”

You bite your lip, “Um… I don’t know.”

“Answer the fucking question.”

“Two! Only two! Hurts if I do more!” You blurt out.

“What a fucking baby.” Steve hisses, the pumping getting faster, and it sounds so lewd over the phone. “I’ve split your little cunt in half over my dick but you’re still so tight, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yeah, daddy.” You press your thighs together, the desperation and lust in his tone mixed with the condescension makes you want to spontaneously combust.

“Mm, and I know you look so sexy in the shower, all that soapy water all over your body, the hottest omega on campus and you’re all mine. Fuck, if I was there right now I’d already be inside you. No prep.”

“Please.” It’s a whisper and a moan, and you squeeze your thighs even tighter.

“Send me a picture, baby. I need to see what you look like. Show me your tits, and make sure your face is showing too.”

“But Steve—”

“Do it. Or else.” He grunts, sounding almost crazed with lust as he co to he’s to jack off. You can imagine how hard his dick is, how angry and red and hard and leaking with precum. Steve swears before continuing, “And make sure to squeeze your tits and play with your nipples. Be a dirty fucking whore for daddy, okay? Now do it.”

Maybe it’s a good thing that you’re alone right now. You quickly turn Steve Junior so he’s facing the other way, before taking your top off. It’s embarrassing, and you’re self-conscious throughout, but you manage to do what Steve says, snapping a few selfies where you think you look entire ridiculous. But you send them anyways, hoping they’re good enough.

There’s a pause before Steve lets out a moan. And it’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard—hearing him moan like that. It makes you wonder where he is, and hope to God that he’s alone.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy, baby.” Steve hisses, “Looking so innocent while you play with your tits. Bet you could make millions off of these pictures.”

“Please, just delete them!”

“I’ll add them to my collection. But don’t worry, sweet girl, these are for my eyes only. None of those other horny fucks at college deserve to even look at you.”

His words are oddly comforting, but your breath hitches when —out of nowhere— Steve ends the call. But only two seconds pass by before your phone vibrates again and you gulp.

A video call.

“I want to watch you, baby.” It’s Steve, and he’s in a locker room, his voice echoing and it looks like he’s alone. He’s shirtless too, and you bite your lip at his muscular body, and the veins that protrude as he flexes his arm. His fingers wrap around his huge dick, his eyes boring into yours as he jacks himself off.

“Put the phone somewhere and then I want you to play with your tits some more.” He orders, a slight strain on his voice, “And don’t even think about arguing with me, omega.”

Submissively, you prop your phone up against some pillows before doing exactly what he tells you to. You try to pretend it’s him touching you, him squeezing your breasts and twisting your nipples with his expert touch. But your hands are no match for his calloused, expert fingers.

“Mm, just like that, baby omega. You’re so hot, such a fuckin’ tease—putting on a show for daddy, aren’t you? I said, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yes!” You whimper.

“Good baby. Now squeeze your tits together. Mm, just like that. I wish you could see how sexy you look. You wish daddy was there, don’t you? I’d fuck your tits, baby. Bet you’ve never experienced that, have you? Fuck, I know your tits would feel so soft and sexy on my dick.”

Every word that’s coming out of his mouth is pure filth. Pure, utter filth but it’s like he’s switched a button inside you, and you can’t help but whimper at his words, wanting every single depraved thing he’s promising to do to you.

“Daddy,” you cry softly, suddenly feeling needy for him, and it only eggs him on further, his hand now a blur as he pumps his hard cock.

“You’re gonna make me cum, baby. No one does it for me like you do, omega. Fuck, I need you to show me your ass now. Turn around. Slowly, I want to see everything.”

You don’t even hesitate, your pussy now throbbing with need as you turn around. You’re only wearing a pair of thin flowery panties and he hasn’t asked you to take them off, but they’re so small that both your ass cheeks are on display.

“Fuck, your ass is so sexy, baby omega. Arch your back a bit more for daddy. Mm, just like that. That’s so good, fuck. You have the best ass on campus, baby. Best ass I’ve ever seen.” Steve’s blonde hair has fallen down over his forehead, his blue eyes bright and excited, cheeks red and so is his dick. “Point your ass at your camera baby. And shake it for daddy, let me see it bounce.”

A large part of you feels so silly and awkward, but you’re so horny at this point that all common sense goes out the window, and again you do exactly what he asks you to. God, you’re so happy you’re alone in the house right now—if anyone saw you, you’d never live it down.

Steve runs a hand impatiently throw his hair, brushing it back with his eyes glued on you the entire time. You can see his abs flexing, his chest riding up and down as he breathes rapidly. He’s so ridiculously attractive, it’s insane.

“Now spank yourself.”

Your eyes fly open, a protest on the tip of your tongue but you’re silenced by the warning look in his eyes.

“Do it right fucking now, omega.” Steve says through gritted teeth, “Don’t you want to make your alpha proud?”

“I-I do, but—”

“Then fucking smack your baby ass just like how I would if I was there. And keep your eyes on me the whole time, omega. Don’t you dare close them—I want you looking at me while you do it.”

It’s mortifying, but you do what he says, his blue eyes so dark and blown out with lust, locked with yours as you lightly spank yourself.

“Harder, baby. Like how I would do it.”

You immediately obey, smacking your ass harder, letting out a quiet ow as you do it.

“Mm, I love how your little ass jiggles, baby. Tell me, did that hurt?” Steve asks, still pumping his hard dick with his eyes locked on you.

You inhale shakily, “A little.”

“As much as it does when daddy hits you?”

“N-No.” you shake your head, lowering your gaze as you feel the submissive part of you take over completely, “I’m not big and strong like you, daddy.”

“Mm, you’re fucking teasing me, omega. Damn right you’re not. You’re just a baby, a weak little fucking baby who needs her daddy all the time, don’t you?” Steve is close, you can tell from how his pumps grow faster and faster, and you can’t take your eyes off of him.

“Mm, just a baby. Need my daddy.” You hear yourself whining, and that’s when you notice that you’re humping against the mattress, still trussed up and with your ass pointed at your phone. Your thighs gleam with your own arousal, wetness dripping down your legs almost obscenely.

“Fuck, look at that little baby ass. Wish I could cum all over your ass, baby.” Steve grunts, “That’s what I’m gonna do when I get home tomorrow. Spank the fuck out of you till you can’t sit straight, and then cum all over you till you’re covered in my scent. Fuck, shake your fucking ass for me, omega. I’m gonna fucking cum.”

And he does. And it’s incredible. Spurt after spurt of white cum shooting out of his dick while you watch with an open mouth. There’s sweat dripping down his body and his jaw is tense, and he lets out a string of swears mixed with your name as he unloads.

And you’re rutting against the mattress the whole time you watch him, but it’s not enough. You need more. You need him. And it makes you sob in frustration, you’re so wet… So wet but you need your alpha to touch you how only he knows how to.

“Daddy, please,” you sob softly.

“Aw, baby omega,” Steve coos once he’s recovered from his orgasm, “Look at you, still so needy. I can see your drippy little baby pussy has made a mess of the sheets. You’re a horny little baby, aren’t you? But you’re too stupid to make yourself cum.

“Please help.” You beg him.

Steve laughs, “Why would I do that?”

Your jaw drops, “Wh-What?”

Steve’s already pulling his football jersey over his head, “I have practice, baby. And anyways, you’re not allowed to touch your pussy, only I am. Therefore, you’re gonna have to hold off until tomorrow.”

“That’s not fair, Steve!”

“That’s not fair, Steve!” He mocks you in a high-pitched voice before laughing, “Don’t pout. I’ll make you feel real good tomorrow, so long as you’re ready for me. Naked and on your hands and knees, like how every omega should wait for her alpha.”

“B-But—”

“Gotta go, omega, the coach is calling the team over. Thanks for the show, I’ll see you tomorrow, baby.”

THE END

[mars-library]

jingle balls

18+

You get very merry with Lloyd.

word count: ~890

warnings: course language. Christmas fluff! Husband for Hire AU (masterlist coming soon!)

This has not been beta’d - mistakes are my own

“This is silly.” Lloyd throws his arms in the air, appearing in nothing but a fleece Christmas onesie that barely reaches his ankles. He stands in the middle of the living room, grumpy as can be.

“It’s cute and festive. Turn around.” You do a finger roll and he obeys your order, giving you a taut 360 along with a great view of his ass. “Hmm…”

“I’m getting zero circulation to my balls, y’know that?” He cups his front and readjusts himself, kicking his legs apart as he does.

“I think there’s a front snap closure…” You sympathize in a daze while shoving handfuls of caramel corn into your mouth.

“Oh good, I can let my wang out for Cujo and anyone else to see.”

“Gross.” You finally snap into realization and Lloyd drops himself next to you on the couch, dunking his hand in the popcorn bowl.

“Why’re we doing all this, sweets?”

“It’s the holiday season. Why not do all this?” You strategically lean into him, his one arm slung on top of the couch as you angle your phone up in position. “Smile for the camera, Hany.”

He smiles. You’re elated. The selfie is candid where you’re looking up at him, mouthing the word ‘smile’ at the final click. It’s sweet, endearing enough to hold onto and Lloyd is equally reverent on it as well.

“I like this one. Send it to me.” He nudges while bringing his attention back to the TV. You smile and nod, pocketing your phone for the rest of the night.

“So this is it? This all you wanted from me?” He motions to the decorated tree, half empty mugs of hot cocoa and packs of beer. An unfinished game of Scrabble and Cujo who peacefully slumbered in front of the crackling fireplace.

“Pretty much.” Your head moves against his chest, fussing to find a comfortable spot, for him to be closer than he already is.

“You good?” Lloyd makes a face and you look up at him, piercing him with a judgey gaze.

“All my exes thought they were too good to celebrate Christmas, they weren’t about the kitschy traditions and galore.”

“And you think I’m spirited like that?”

“I think my pretend boo could just pretend for once.” You harp on sardonically. “Yeah?”

“By literal means.” Lloyd snickers as he snakes an arm around and draws you in closer, shuffling right into his next question. “So how many ex boyfriends are we talking about here?”

“Well you already know about Alistair…”

“Redhead with a temper?” He confirms and you sigh. “He’s an unforgettable dude.”

“The ones that came after him were a multitude. But I don’t wanna talk about them.” You dismiss.

“OK, just remind me whenever they’re around.” He grins from ear to ear, one that’s earnest of him and his diabolics.

“So that you can deal with them?” You gawk.

“Yeah.” He exasperates. You playfully thwart him for that. He’s smitten by the action itself, throwing his head back in deep laughter.

“They’re not my problem anymore. Don’t be that guy.”

“Which one are we talking about?” He lulls and you give him a doe eyed look.

“We’re not going there.”

“Why not? I can tell you about my exes.”

“You dated a whole platoon!”

“Yeah from a sorority.” He answers as if it made the situation any better. “Now if I could go back…”

“Oh all those Ashley’s.” You croon up in his face.

“They were something alright.” He comments while looking ahead. You smelled really nice, nice enough for his hand to fall from the top of the couch to your hip, pulling you in a smidge closer.

“Couldn’t stand them.” You huff, trying to focus on the movie. “They came after me in college because you were around.”

“You know, we could’ve easily dated back then.” Lloyd considers while taking a sip of his beer. He says this in hopes that it would change the current trajectory. But it doesn’t. Sadly.

“No we couldn’t have. You worked for my father and I wasn’t allowed to see you. Literally and romantically.” During your college years, your father deployed one of his men to watch over you. Lloyd was assigned and when he was your guy, all the girls wanted him too. It was hard to make sense of the ordeal when, for the longest time, you had no idea you were being watched.

“It was weird how Tany always asked about you too.”

Tany was your old roommate. Her phrasing would be: ‘where’s gel back?’ You assumed she was talking about stationary.

“That’s cause we fucked on the rare occasion.” Lloyd harmonizes a good memory with a nasty grin on his face, telling of a time.

“In our dorm?”

“And everywhere else.” He sneakily says into the beer spout.

“Ew!”

“Look, not everyone was holding it out like you, alright?” He reminds you of a private conversation you had with your then roommate about saving yourself for marriage. He had the unsaid opportunity to hear you out but paid no mind to it till now.

“I’m not wrong for doing so.” You defend.

Lloyd’s face changes, slighting some concern but not enough to press you on about it. Instead he simply nods and points the remote towards the TV.

“We should get back to watching the movie.” He’s lighthearted and smiles. “The best part is coming up.”

You smile wobbly, reminding yourself that this, you and him, was temporary. You’re not supposed to fully confide in this man. You weren’t supposed to let go.

[mars-library]

code red

18+

Lloyd learns about your menses.

word count: ~807

warnings: course language, mentions of period blood and menstruation. Husband for Hire AU (drabble).

This has not been beta’d- mistakes are my own

“God this is shit.” You sniff, curled up in bed for most of the day. Thankful for room service and the ample movie subscriptions that Lloyd had discourteously bought out. You were stuck watching the Dutch dubbed Lost in Translation, not clued in at all.

So turned out that your monthly menses came early and in a man's home you were unprepared for the worst.

“It’s OK mia.” Maria coddles you, grazing a hand on your shoulder. Like an unaware teenager, you woke up to a bloody mess. Stained bedsheets and embarrassment were coinciding detriments that you weren’t going to live down. “I’ll throw them in the wash and they’ll be good as new. Mr. Hansen won’t know.”

“What does Lloyd know?” You snap, tired of the fact that he’s never not been sensible, always fucking clueless.

“He’s… understanding.” She chooses her words carefully around you because you were special circumstances, his overall eyes and ears. His favourite. “He’ll know.” You scoff and she pushes a small smile, excusing herself from more small talk.

The pain welters in waves. You screw your face altogether, groaning and sifting in carnal discomfort. The channel flips, panning over to a man who’s trekking through an alpaca sanctuary. That’s when your heartstrings get pulled, sniffing through a random reunion. One sad thing tunneled into another sad life event: military homecomings.

Crying and wallowing, you manage to moan through another flash flood of pain, burying yourself in a swathe of sheets that cushion the blow.

Lloyd isn’t in any rush when he comes home. His days were unaccounted for. Business was surmountable. His men needed him at their beck and call until he felt the need to pull away. Tonight he wanted to sleep with both eyes closed.

“Good evening, Mr. Hansen.” Maria greets him at the door while carrying an armload of fresh linen.

“Is she alright?” He breathlessly asks about you. As always he’s expected to hear more about your antics. But instead Maria splays an apologetic smile as she watches him shed off his coat and shoes.

“She’s feeling a bit unwell, sir.” She finally answers. This grabs Lloyd’s attention in the momentum. He slows his undoing, mildly gaffed.

“What do you mean?” He’s dumb and quizzically concerned. The older woman releases a heavy sigh. “Was Angelo called?”

“No.”

“Why not?” His heavy Bostonian dialect picks up. “He’s on call for a reason.” He immediately whips out his phone and scrolls through his contacts.

“She’s not sick, sir.”

Lloyd looks up at her as if he were struck by a bullet. She purses her lips and doesn’t say a word, her eyes says it all. Now it’s Lloyd’s turn to sigh, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks.

“OK, got it.” He closes his eyes and nods. “Thank you, Maria.”

“Of course.” She murmurs while quietly turning away on her heels.

“Wait, um… do we… is there enough…” He struggles to say anything remotely helpful or comprehensive, pinching the bridge of his nose, engrossed with some dismay. “Do I…”

“Everything’s taken care of Mr. Hansen. Just be there for her.” She says in the sweetest way possible. Maria had an inkling for these things. Of course she’s a mother of 3 beautiful girls but being a woman herself, she nurtured the right approach when it came to Lloyd who was practically her son.

“Sure… yeah, I can do that.” He finally psyches himself up for the job not knowing how badly you needed the solace.

While breathing through the cramps you don’t hear the room door open and shut.

“Sorry I’m late.” Lloyd bashfully announces himself and for that you groan.

“I didn’t ask for you.”

“I’m here now.” He urges, hitching his trouser before taking a seat next to your bed. “How’re we feeling?”

“Like kaka.”

He laughs and tilts his head sideways, bearing the slightest dimple on his left cheek. “That’s one way to put it.”

“I’m bedridden, I can’t move my lower extremities. I’m moody, bloated and I could really make do with a cuddle buddy right about now.” You mumble the last bit. Lloyd hears you request loud and clear.

“OK, you got it. Scoot over.”

“What?” You panic.

“Relax.” That’s one way to assure someone. “Let me hold you.” That’s another way to fall in love.

You’re wordlessly stunned by this discourse, moving your body from one end of the bed to the other. Weak to start a fight and prideful enough to swallow your ego, you allow him to take care of you like this. It’s one of many firsts that you reconcile with.

Lloyd slowly slides in next to you. With the covers slightly drawn back he can see that you were huddled in nothing but a pair of fleece shorts and an oversized T-shirt. He’s deft and takes position of the big spoon as you brace onto the warm heating pack, back turned towards him, heart hammering in your throat. For a second you don’t feel him move. But then soon after the settling phase he wraps a strong arm around your torso and gently pulls you against him, softly grunting and nuzzling into hair. The awkwardness disappeared, your muscles ease up. There’s calmness and serenity. You both were modding and falling into the other, bodies jiving as one. Lloyd needed this just as much as you did. Though you’d never know that.

“Is this OK?” He quietly mumbles against you in half slumber. You nod, chest rising and falling with his.

“Thank you.” You felt safe. He did what he could. No questions asked. No objections.

You fell asleep easily that night and so did Lloyd.

[mars-library]

husband for hire (3)

18+

previously

You tour Lloyd’s home where you lose sleep and gorge on an endless selection of wine. But with misery comes company.

warnings: course language, violence, mentions of blood, heavy alcohol consumption. Mentions of past affiliations and traumas. Sassy reader. Patient soft!Lloyd.

word count: ~2.9k

authors note: thank you to those who’ve been pouring in their support for this little mishmash series. It’s been giving me the right push to write so I love you all to the sun, moon and stars xxx

This has not been beta’d - mistakes are my own

“Wow.” You gawk, blinded by polished marble flooring and prismatic chandeliers. There isn’t a speck of dust floating around. Every nook was pristine, almost uninhabited. Whereas you waltzed in, out of place, from rag to riches. This was meant to be your Cinderella story.

A soft click shuts the door behind you as Lloyd huffs, slowly undoing his cummerbund.

“What do you think?” He perpetuates, letting the pleated sash swish and cut through the air.

“You have a very beautiful home.” You politely add.

“I’m glad you think so.” Lloyd tyrants a genuine smile that is almost saccharine. You wanted to melt into the linoleum that very instant. “Come through, I’ll give you a quick tour.”

You nod, following him like a docile house cat as he turns every corridor with ease. He shows you the Michelin restaurant grade kitchen, the living room, theatre room, backyard, the entourage of house guards outback, your own butler, Jeeves, your maid, Maria. He shows you every closet, cupboard, nook and corner. In return you’re in awe of all the plants, fauna and paintings he’s bought off auction. There’s a room for everything imaginable and now there’s a room for you.

“This is where you’ll be.” He opens the unlatched double doors to reveal a platinum, all white suite.

“I could’ve easily taken the couch.” You state, casually eying the orthopaedic California king that floated in the middle of the room.

“You’re my guest.” He ensures. “You stay where I tell you to stay.”

“Is this where I kneel for the master?” You grit, swiveling to meet your crafty assailant eye to eye. There's that unnerving sass that doesn’t miss a beat. Lloyd knew how to break even.

“Only if you submit.” He sexually deviates in a tone that zings your core.

“Know your place.” You look him up and down before stepping into the room that is far from welcoming and close to an asylum of some sort.

“Sergio will get the rest of your things so that way you’ll feel more at home.” Lloyd explains when you aimlessly wander a barren corner that leads up to an illustrious walk in. You’re slightly appreciative but aghast.

“Wait, what about Cujo?”

“Cujo?” Lloyd tries his hardest not to laugh.

“My blue Merle.” You affirm and he relieves a sound ‘ahh.’ “Y’know, an Australian Shepherd.”

“He’s more than welcome here.” He smiles. It’s fake. Lloyd hates dogs. He’s not fond of Rooster the house cat that slithers through the back gates every so often. But for you the world was liminal. “Anything else?”

“This can’t be forever.” You spar with a sideways look.

“I know and there’ll be an end to all of this. But ultimately that’s your call to make mi Luna.” He simply states, rolling the ball back into your corner. “Now if you’ll excuse me I have some… business to deal with.” He pauses, poker faced.

“Do you think you’ll be OK?”

“In a house all to myself?” You fold your arms across your chest, tapping a foot that is ready to run.

“One is enough company.” He reminds you while unbuckling his watch links. There’s a tiny little smirk gracing the corners of his mouth.

“You’re telling me?” You theorize, disgusted by your own life lasting singleness. Lloyd easily takes to your self deprecating tendencies. He believes you’re perfect and cruel. He’d change the latter.

“Let’s be good alright?” He requests, sounding jovially lighthearted. The gold link watch lands on top of the large oak armoire as a reminder, shifting the silence once again.

“Will I see you?” Did you want to?

“I’ll be around.” He’s nonplussed and you wanted to swing at him. “Goodnight, mi Luna.”

***

You lost count of sheep and wound down a flight of stairs that led you through a dark abyss. The house help was sound asleep while your disquietude kept you awake.

Every step there was a door and past that door there was light shining in from a sheer lined window. In the midst of your nightly conquest you were rocking back a bottle of imported red wine, embittered by the dry, full bodied taste of it all. Lloyd had an exquisite selection of wines to choose from. Mostly unopened and sitting pretty in an above ground cellar. He was a connoisseur and you took advantage, considering the fact that you didn’t drink at the wedding. So why not now!

“Fucking shit.” You gargle after taking another forceful swig. The pint swished in your grasp, echoing through the corridor. Time was ticking to a steady pulse. Slow torture became exodus as you could hear pained, muffled cries coming from one of the many closed doors.

“Please.” They agonize in a symphony you’re too familiar with. “Please.”

Your feet trail up. There’s one door where light pools from under. The pleas become gradual, calling out to you like a siren.

“I promise it won't happen again. Please Lloyd.” The man’s voice cracks. There are many moments in your life that parallel this instance. Your father being the true culprit and successor to the cause. Pain, infliction and chaos. “I didn’t mean for it to happen… those men.. they…”

Your eyes fall shut, brows drawn together. You stand right in front of the door that could shatter upon impact, awaiting your turn with fear and uncertainty.

Something abysmal spins you out. The gallant murmurs are a muck. The soured wine churns in your stomach when there’s a pitfall of silence. You’re so far too self absorbed to notice the door creak open. Someone clears their throat. You flutter your eyes open to see a looming Sicilian man, armored in Dior and Kevlar.

He’s cast with a grave look, squaring you off in militant form. You’re bewildered, paled by the laser-like focus Lloyd has on you from behind the giant. You don’t look at him. How could you?

“Mi Luna.” He husks in a tone so deathly low. Don’t answer, Y/N.

The man who’s kneecapped, huffing and puffing, looks over his shoulder. Your eyes meet and it’s telepathic. He’s grateful, relieved by your unexpected appearance. You scowl through the full effects of costly red wine and audacity, trying to sound somewhat unaffected. You weren’t there for anyone.

“Is there a bathroom around here?” You calmly inquire as if you weren’t caught eavesdropping on an execution. Lloyd’s countenance tightens, anger was a fleeting understatement. But his oversight changes as the fireplace crackles and casts a warm glow, whipping the tense silence into a heated ordeal.

“Two doors down, to your right.” He finally presses. His men soundlessly idled around, not a step out of place. They don’t look at you the way Lloyd does with his smoldering gaze.

You slowly back away, inscribed with disappointment. The heaving man bows his head in defeat, knowing his fate was dealt with. “Andre.”

And in that moment the door was shut on your face. Unanimous to your reservations.

A million thoughts to one.

Your walk back is short when you hear gunshots go off for the first time after a long time. It’s shattering. It’s abrupt. Enough for you to instinctively scamper up a random flight of stairs and fall into a room that’s not yours. Dark walls, light wood furniture, the familiar scent of bergamot infused aftershave. You knew you were entrapped in his room when the harnessing safety lock clicks.

“Fuck.” You jiggle the knob again, not knowing the adjustment and push method. “Fuuuuuck.”

“We’ll take care of the rest, boss.“ Sebastian calmly assures Lloyd who tempers his breathing and studies the lifeless man before him. The last few minutes were a crucial struggle. He had to make sure.

“He’s getting there anyways.” Seb was right. There’s a small halo of blood forming around the head and that was enough to sinister some realization as Lloyd turns to his longtime associate in crime.

“Do it before I get back and make sure my rug stays intact. Got it?” Lloyd was delirious. He ran out of the study before he could acknowledge a ‘yes sir.’

Some part of his possessive, ruddering conscience wanted to make sure you were OK. As fear takes a paralleling whirlwind, you could hear his Italian sharp toed shoes tap up the stairway. It’s no shock that he barges into your room first and doesn’t find you there.

“Y/N!” He hollers down the corridor before pushing open his room door, the final unchecked space. He pauses in mid-action, seeing your hardened resolve at standoff. “I—“ Relief is scornful and there’s no othering after fact.

“Was I supposed to see that?” You point with the half empty bottle in hand, completely glassy eyed. His jaw ticks.

“No.” He answers. “And you won’t have to if you—“

“Oh fuck you. Fuck you!” You scream, letting all the veins in your neck come out for show. Lloyd shuffles on his feet, inhaling a sharp intake of breath while lightly shutting the door behind him. He’s had moments like this rehearsed so talking you down from it wasn’t unexpected. More so gut wrenching.

“Who do you think I am?” He calmly asks in a way that is compliant yet arbitrary.

“Someone better than this, I’d hope.” Why do you care?

“Yeah right. My hands have been covered in blood since the day I was born.” He scoffs, circling the room like a prowling vulture. You open your mouth to interject. He’s quick witted and drawl, stopping dead in his tracks. “Don’t ask me to change if you’re your fathers daughter. Ya hear?”

“That’s where you and I are different. I don’t kill for a living.” You say on your high horse.

“That’s right. You’re just an elementary school teacher with her panties in a twist.” He sardonically responds.

“How’d you—“ your brows furrow.

“I used to work for your father, remember?” He adds, scratching his temple that slightly throbs. “… Always had my eyes on you.” Lloyd mumbles to himself, well under his breath.

“What happened?”

“Everything unimaginable.” You look at him dubiously. He sighs, deflated and not willing enough to further speculate. “Are you OK?”

“Could be better.” You grumble.

“How’s the wine?” He inquires, dropping his gaze to the tip of your fingers that barely cling onto the bottle.

“Good. Could do with another.” You shrug upon inspection.

He chuckles, cocking his head to the side. “Let’s go then.”

You try not to flinch but something so magnanimous kept you drawn in, nodding at his ingenious requital.

“I know just the one that’ll put you to sleep.” He absently adds while rolling up his sleeves.

***

Nebbiolo.

That was the wine pairing that had you half lidded and slovenly dead weight.

The kitchen countertop, made of finite marble, felt cool against your warm, flushed skin. You took purchase and laid your head down sideways while Lloyd kept pouring a steady hand of whisky for himself.

“I’m not drunk.” You hum, watchful of him.

“Good.” He takes his first sip which then turns into a hasty gulp. Another guzzling pour and that’s when you wince. “Wouldn’t want you to be.”

There’s a jab.

“Would you, um, ever hurt me?” You inquire, eyes screwed shut, unbearing the thought.

“No.” His answer is simple but interchangeable. “Although I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I’ve seen worse.” You scoff.

Lloyd is remorseful, knowing that his scars were once wounds too. He’s watched your father. Learned the best of the worst from him. Which in turn is why he can’t shake off the ‘death tilt’ — a stunt your father would pull after every kill. It was the same reason why Lloyd couldn’t look at you the same way for the past hour or so. Flashes of his past pained him to inflict the same irreverence. You didn’t deserve to feel the same motions of sadness or guilt like he did. But your tumultuous resignation tells him otherwise.

“I was practically raised in a slaughterhouse, so you never get used to it.”

“Emotional numbness.” He clicks his tongue and refills his glass up again. You frown. “Gotcha.”

“You should take it easy on the Tennessee.”

“I’ll worry about that.” Lloyd hisses, downing another heavy handed peg.

“Fine, don’t listen to your fiancée then.” You huff while propping yourself off the barstool. The room spins when you make the landing, a steady hand grips onto the counter as a safety precaution.

“What’re you doing?”

“Going to bed. Duh?” You shake your head that worsens your state of vertigo.

“Great. Lemme take you up.” He challenges.

“I’m perfectly capable. Thanks.” You watch him guzzle an entire pint in one go, lacerated by his inhumane ability to do so. He finally swings the bottle away from his mouth and hisses. There’s a bit left that he doesn’t bother finishing off.

“That’s not how I see it.” He sniffs, consciously condescending.

“So what? You’re going to constantly be at my neck now?” You muse with disbelief.

“Pretty much.”

“This arrangement,” you pause and shift your focus, keen on knowing. “What’s in it for you… the most eligible bachelor in the tri state area?”

Lloyd makes a face and scoffs to himself. There’s something unheard of.

“You, uh, remember the night of your 21st birthday?” He drags a hand over his face, the bags under his eyes are pulled down when you don’t.

“Vaguely.” You remembered a good time. That’s about it.

“You got shitfaced at a gentlemen's club your father owned and prohibited you from. I had to haul your ass into a yellow cab.” He recites the scandal.

There was heavy intel and a night hunt to get you home. At the time, your father had trusted Lloyd to be on your case, unwittingly being your shadow and protector. He was one of your fathers wordless men who took orders and then fell out. And yet somehow life came in full circle.

“But with you, it never stopped there.”

Ah yes the Paloma incident, Bar 61 and not to mention the Aspen escapade. All major life events that Lloyd has seen and endeavored. It’s no wonder that you were, in fact, your fathers biggest pain in the ass. But Lloyd being this available meant that he knew more about you than you had led on and that, in itself, was unnerving.

“God, how old are you?” You howl, eyes wider than dinner plates. It’s common knowledge that Lloyd’s only a few years older than you. Although he wasn’t about to pull out his I.D for proof.

“Old enough.” He rolls his eyes, tongue in cheek.

“Well I’m sorry I put you through all that.” You stupify, unconvinced. “And thank you for your service but you didn’t answer—“

“Reparations.” He gestures to you and him. A rough sigh escapes your lips. “We’re playing a game here, tit for tat. Might as well have fun with it.”

“Look, we don’t have to do this.” You reiterate, pausing at the foot of the stairwell. Moonlight cascades from the sky roof. Lloyd grins, methodical in understanding your psyche.

“Always doubling down. Nice.” He leans against the railing for support, stifling a burp that comes up.

“I’m just giving you an out.” You parry at half his height.

“Yeah because you’re afraid.”

“And I have every right to be!”

“Well, whatever it is that we’re trying to achieve here, takes a lot of trust and understanding.” He explains. You could hear the reasoning, sound and clear.

“I guess so.”

“Either way, you’re going to have to let me in, mi Luna.” He bows forward, quizzically in tune.

“You need to stop calling me that.” You despised pet names and this one came from the jump.

“Not a chance.” He chuckles in all honesty and it’s a first. “It suits you.”

You lull your head to the side. “Now you’re doing the most.”

“Whatever it takes, right?” He stands upright, obnoxiously grunting in stance.

There wasn’t much to say until he finally looked you dead in the eyes. You’re obliterated by his wildly inquisitive gaze that holds you captive. You felt an unspeakable magnetism that shields you from reality. He takes a small, swaying step forward, off balance and self assured. You tuck your chin in as a way to show some restraint. It’s surmountable that Lloyd’s grown fond of you, becoming soft under the guise of alcohol. If you’d known better you would’ve spiked all his drinks just to hear him hem and haw. But then your sight falters and there’s a permeable scowl on the seam of your lips. He takes notice of this as well.

“What?” He quirks, truly insulted.

“You’re bleeding.” You point to the split brow, jaded with some discern.

“I am?” He touches the wound and looks down at his red tinged fingers. “Damn, didn’t feel a thing.”

“Yeah whiskey does that.” You sigh, “Here let me—“

“S’kay, I’ll take care of it.” He refuses your measly help. “…Now as much as I appreciate your uncalled for concern, my business is my problem.” He flips the script on you and that’s expected.

“Okay.” You agree for the sake of agreeing.

“And one rule opposed to your many rules is that I hurt who I want to hurt. Do I make myself clear?” He convicts on his own obstructed moral ground and for that, you don’t question the puppet master.

“Fine by me, really.” You shrug. “I can hold my own.”

“Disputable.” You’re appalled. Lloyd finds it cute. “Just go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yes sir.” You mockingly two-finger salute him. He laughs while trudging up the staircase. Now it’s your turn to be confused. “What?”

“How does it feel to finally submit?” He jokes from the top step, casting a smug grin in your direction.

“Oh fuck off.”

[mars-library]

husband for hire (2)

18+

previously

There’s some ground rules and a sweet assemblage of affirmations. You’d hate to hear it.

warnings: course language, mentions of arranged marriage. fake husband/wife trope. Mafia!Lloyd x fem!reader (non-descriptive).

word count: ~2.1k

authors note: I’ve been going through a bit of a mental break and decided to write after a long time. It’s not written in my usual flowery flow so hopefully it makes sense and is coherent to some degree.

This has not been beta’d — any mistakes are my own.

Everyone had big little lies. Yours was just that and some. Maybe your dilly dally approach was untelling of time and place. But more so than not, Lloyd was an equal opportunist, playing your game with the same insouciant vigour.

“So what now?” He shifts against the vinyl seating, knees spread far apart, chin tucked in as he gazes through his lashes with a slight grin. It’s trifling how enigmatic his aura was around you. Almost as if to say that he’ll always have an eye on you. But he’s far more observant than that. “Nice baby gun by the way.”

He casually points at your thigh where the outline of your pistol that was strapped under your evening gown.

His face changes, genuine curiosity takes flight. “Do you always carry and conceal… poorly?”

“Only when I have to.” You reach under and yank out the revolver that was snagged in between the garter. Lloyd’s smirk widens as the small, toy weapon lands on the upholstery next to you. “But then again I’m not meant to be in this rodeo.”

“Well in that case I might have to get you something better then.” He hums. “Bigger perhaps?”

A double entendre? Gross.

“How ‘bout we start with a ring first.” You preamble, sniffing at his staunchness. Lloyd’s pinky ring admonished your ring finger in place of a lie. It was the least he could do given the circumstances and no one seemed to have bat an eye. “Something more shiner and made of diamonds, perhaps.”

“That can definitely be arranged.” He laughs, realizing the day has come for him to be somewhat of an honest man. But his signet band was a perfect fit minus the fact that it was a bit lacklustre and worn down.

“Why’d you agree to this?” You flummox while taking an unsteady breath. Everything’s uncomfortable, even his goading glare.

“Because you asked.”

“Just like that?” He simply nods and you let out an aghast little, “Huh?”

“I can see the wheels turning.” He crows. “It’s not that deep, mi luna.” His moon. Opposite of day and befitting to how you unscrew your beautiful face.

“Yeah right.“ You look out the window to be blinded by abysmal darkness. “Also is there a McDonald’s nearby? Because I’m fucking starving.”

Lloyd squints, there's some misjudgment and humour interlaced behind a slight grin.

“There’s a ruddy little diner coming up.” He answers with poise. “Does that work?”

“As long as I’m fed.”

“Hey Sergio, can you make a quick stop at Mama’s.” Lloyd says over the intercom that’s placed by the partition. Wordlessly, the driver reroutes and the ride becomes guided through your silent reverie.

Lloyd’s watchful as you fidget in a swathe of satin and sweat. You’re not used to being someone’s focus, attention, even desire. But he takes it upon himself to be dignified, to show some empathy for someone like you— a conning escapist and his best mistake.

He opens his mouth to say, more so ask something but then the town car comes to a stop.

“We’re here.” You relieve, already one foot out the door. Lloyd’s jaw shifts as you flit over to the abandoned establishment. “You sure this place is open for business?”

“It’s where I do business.” Lloyd patiently explains from a few feet back. He looks to Sergio and nods, their exchange is a little stoic, trained code that you don’t pay much attention to.

“So the food is probably subpar?”

“I wouldn’t say that earshot away.” He stifles a small laugh and guides you in, hand on the square of your back that immediately stiffens to the touch. “Have an open appetite and you might be surprised.” He comments under his breath.

The door chimes ping to a midsummer palladium. There’s mismatching futon and aisles of brown oak booths lined with floral seating. It was giving kitschy Dior.

“Onja.” Lloyd greets a quick working geriatric woman with silvery blonde hair and a moon shaped face. She appears out of nowhere, barely out of breath.

“Lloyd.” She fondly announces, arms wide open, fashioning a freshly stained apron. The exchange is uncalled for. But truly they were right at home and he’s beguiling her like old times.

“Is the kitchen open, ma?”

“For you?” She hums and haws, surprised he has to even ask.

“Not me. But for her.” He cocks his head towards you, slyly holding you to it as the exception.

“Oh!” She first looks at Lloyd a little too cheekily. Like a mother apprehending her son whose aimlessly asking for one too many favors. “Of course. Come! Sit anywhere! I’ll be right there.” Onja proclaims, hop skipping away as you both stand parallel to one another.

“She thinks I’m your bed mate doesn’t she?” You turn to the choosy mobster. His grin grows tenfold.

“Bed mate?” He snorts, inadvertently exuberant. “More like a growing pain in my ass.”

You huff and stumble into a random booth, furthest away from the window and right next to the kitchen. While tucking yourself in, Lloyd scans the area before sliding off his dress coat. Onja brings around a pitcher of water as he’s slowly undressing himself to some duress.

“Water.” She states, wiping her wet hands against the rag.

“Thank you, greatly.” Lloyd lifts his brows, expressing his highest gratitude. Onja shuffles on her feet, smiling briefly before seeding an apologetic grimace.

“So I just checked the kitchen and I have to inform you that we are out of a lot of things—“

“We’ll have whatever’s leftover then.” Lloyd interrupts and then quirks up. “Actually, do you have a pot of your French Onion?”

“Soup?” You croak, making a face.

“Yes!” Onja excitedly answers. “Two soups OK?”

“Just one. I’m good.” He confirms and the kind woman becomes relieved.

“Coming up!” She gusts, scurrying away. You’re soured, disbelieving of his actions.

“Fix your face.” Lloyd commands as he unrolls cutlery for you from across the booth.

“I don’t want soup.” You say in a nasally tone.

“Just try it.” He calmly coaxes you. There’s a quiet stillness, you’re irritated as can be. With quick work, Onja appears again with a small, antique cauldron and some serviettes.

“Here you are.” She places the piping hot bowl in front of you. “Is there anything else I can get you Mr. Hansen?”

Lloyd assured her all was good. For now.

“Have at it.”

“No.” You stubbornly state, arms folded across your chest. He lets out a loud exhale and starts plating your meal for you. The soup is aromatic and cheesy. Fresh and mouth watering. Your stomach growled. He ladles a small portion into a bowl and pushes it forward.

“One bite. Or slurp.” He corrects himself while slipping in a spoon. “You got this.”

“It looks like sewer water.”

“Delicious sewer water.”

“Is this what you get?” You start stirring the soup. Scooping and pouring the liquid into the bowl, distracted by your most intrusive thoughts.

“I don’t eat here.” He jokes, absolutely deadpanned. Meanwhile, Onja quietly settles by and places a small steaming Pinming cup in front of him. He thanks her yet again. “But Sergio seems to love it.”

“It’d make sense if you had a fondness for it.”

“I mean you and I don’t make sense yet here we are.” There’s a swift pause as he looks at you coyly. “Now eat.”

You’re far from humbled but reluctantly so you take your first sip. It’s good. Too good to speak as you shovel more into your mouth. Your hunger becomes insatiable.

“Have it with the challah loaf as well.” Lloyd comments into his mug. You obediently dip the Jewish egg bread into the savoury bath and take another bite. “How’s it?”

“Good.”

“Just that?” He snickers.

“Sooo good.” You exaggerate in between mouthfuls. He’s observing your every move like a silent pariah. And maybe it was time you broke the boughs. “Can we talk? You know, establish some ground rules.” You meander, swallowing down your pride with a tight grimace.

“Go on.” He nods, gesturing a lending hand.

“This isn't real. We’re not a couple. So that means there’ll be no kissing, no touching, no copulating of any sort.” You’re abrupt and he laughs, loud enough to put you in your place.

“Says the girl who was desperate for a fuck.” He respires while peering out the side window that glazes over a dark road strip and the alpines. It’s a lonesome plight where you said a lot of things. Promised nothing.

“That… that was out of character.” Your back straightens, clearing the uprising bile from your throat. Your appetite went away as quickly as it came. To say you were embarrassed was a ruddering understatement.

“You’re telling me?” He scoffs, running a steady hand through his perfectly gelled quiff that is stiff to the touch.

“I think there’s a lot of things we can keep to ourselves.” You insist.

“Of course Mrs. Hansen.” He jokes, the name itself rolls off the tip of his tongue. He likes that there’s a nice ticklish ring to it. “But I hope you know that our people will ultimately want more, expect more of us… from us, really.”

His wild blue eyes dilate, forehead creases patronizingly. You don’t falter.

“So we make an appearance.” Making an appearance was a very loose term. “Fake it till we make it.”

“No. We break rules.” He corrects you.

“I don’t like that.” You huff. He smiles. It’s a good thing he likes you.

“Help me help you.” He proposes and your frown deepens. He cocks his head to the side. “You did ask for my hand in marriage after all.”

“Fuck all I did.” You mutter to yourself while returning to your poor man’s meal.

“Look, I don’t like your old man either. So let me spite him a little.” Lloyd offers, jokingly. His phone rings, that overtures the mood. “Excuse me.”

He slides out of the booth with some unpleasant gruffness. “What is it Cyrus?”

His voice carries down the parlour as you slurp on soup. Nowhere to be. Indigestion on a slow prowl. Something about Lloyd Hansen fiercely kept you on your haunches. His coffered gaze. His strong unclenched jaw. The long legs that pace his stride as he takes to a far corner, earshot away.

“There’s no deal.” He hisses. The conversation comes out choppy that you desperately pick up on. “We need to… Yes I know… She is…. No we’re not… it’s complicated.”

It’s complicated. Those are the final affirming words before your eyes meet and he says a quick ‘I got to go.’

Your soup is cold now. He makes it back to the table, anew again.

“You good?”

“Here’s what I want from you.” He becomes stern, countenance changing in a snap. You match his energy by a hairs breadth. “Are you listening?” He raises his brows. You simply nod.

“I don’t like your tone but I’ll play nice.”

“You can’t be out of my sight.”

“Which means?”

“Which means I’m taking you home.” Your eyes thin out. “To my home.”

“I thought you were a recluse, y’know some kind of unexplored hermit.” You soured with some sass.

“I own ten luxury properties, two suburban complexes and a shantytown.” He emphasizes, irises dimming to a slight torment. “I need you around me, wherever I go.”

“Thanks but no thanks.” You object while kissing your teeth.

“This isn’t me asking.” He fiercely insists in a way that is paralyzing. One wrong move and you’d be bound. So you clear your throat, eyes cast downwards out of contemplation, jaw clenched. A slow steady breath prepares you for a grander comeback.

“How can I trust you?”

“You don’t. Now let’s go. We’ve overextended our stay here.” Lloyd hisses, eyes scouring the premise hastily. Somethings up and mafia men had their tumultuous moods. He perks up, hands readjusting the gun that’s hoisted in the back hem of his trousers. There’s a facetious look on his face, angered by suddenness and your calm presence.

When you walk out before him, he catches up in stride.

“Don’t question the things I do for you.” He mutters close in your ear. The night's dew exasperates the chill in your bones. It’s cold, embittering how you truly felt and every resurgence to be. The town car’s pulled up, running in ignition while Sergio has the back door open. He looks the other way as you turn to Lloyd with a challenge. “I’m not yours.”

“You’ll never be.”

[mars-library]

husband for hire

18+

You proposition a very powerful mafia member before your father does and he abides.

warnings: course language, mentions of arranged marriage. fake husband/wife trope. Mafia!Lloyd x fem!reader (non-descriptive).

word count: ~1.1k

authors note: I was watching the proposal with the other Ryan in it when my ✨muse✨ came to me. So enjoy this filler piece while I reluctantly work on my bazillion other WIPs.

You both hated your father. For different reasons. For some time now. So you thought, on your wildest whims, that there’d be no other agreeable man like him.

”I don’t think I follow…” Lloyd Hansen winces while popping some Jordan almonds into his mouth. He’s bored, gant on listening but fully taken by you.

“Be my husband.” You confidently rephrase as he lazily gets up from the chaise and walks over to you.

“Only if you get down on one knee.” He jokes, peering down at your unceasing resolve. The buttons on his dress shirt come apart as he flutters his broad spanning shoulders and prepares his stance. Your lips tug at the corners, grimacing at the hard earned comment.

“Not happening.”

“So then what’s in it for me?” He asks while striking the patience of a dead man. Lloyd has never humoured you. You’ve only heard of him. So this interaction was not owed by any means.

“I just… I just… Gah!” You pause and exhale loudly, eyes pinched shut, strung with frustration. He’s licking his chops and kissing his teeth, punctuating the informed silence.

“God why am I like this?” You groan in the palm of your hands.

Groups of siren-like women are laughing behind the large barreled doors. Wedding goers are celebrating a truthful, loving union all while you attempted to coerce a notorious gang lord in the name of unholy matrimony.

Lloyd carefully studies your pitfall, enjoying your demure and every emotion you easily splay.

You snap your head up, bashful as can be. “Look I just need my father to trust my choices, to let me be.”

The matter of fact was that you were of age which meant that your father was petulant on finding you the right suitor. Day and night, men from the same walks of life would try to pursue you and right now you were conspicuous, trying to dodge the don of Spain.

“I haven’t felt myself in years and for once, I’d like to be free from all this,” You pathetically ramble, a known tendency of yours.

“You’re asking for a lot there,” Lloyd hums while looking at you sideways and crinkly eyed.

“He thinks I’m like cattle! Do as I’m told. Be who he is.” You nearly shriek, ready to hulk out of your gown. “I’ve had enough!”

“Right…” Lloyd ponders while drawing a thumb and pointer finger over his thick, unshorn chevron. “But see, the thing is that I still don’t know where exactly I fit in this equation of yours.”

“It’s simple. Let’s play house. You and I. No strings attached.” You begin. “Of course, we’ll have to establish some boundaries but for the most part it’ll get my father off my back.”

“And leave a blazon target on mine. Fuck that.” Lloyd walks past you knowing that he’s spent a fair amount of time in the drawing room, plucking at your pleas.

“Would you change your mind if you had the chance to fuck me?” You pipe just as he reaches the door.

Now there’s an idea.

“Now you’re pushing it.” He advises, although, taking you apart on top of the large executive desk wasn’t exactly a faraway thought. He comes up short, jaw ticking as he takes a deep, composing breath. Your mother never taught you how to act right especially in the order of mafia men. You spoke, whole foot in mouth, completely unashamed.

“Please Lloyd.” You were asking a lot of him. First to be his wife and now his play thing? He’s unprincipled to it all.

“Don’t make me a dishonourable man, sunshine.” He grunts before stepping out into the crowds that welcome him back again.

💍

“So what’d he say?” Your best friend, Liza grabs you by the arm, giving you a light shake as you stand by the side entrance, completely stock still.

Hours later, the evening toasts were still going on. Steve and Peggy had a lot of well wishers and you zoned out through almost all of them. Love is love is love, right?

“Y/N?”

“He almost had me.” You finally grumble. Liza opens her mouth to say something but then Lloyd takes center stage, deviating both of your attention. It’s the first time you properly take him in. Dressed like a 70s business mogul, he has some flare and underlying charisma. You never met anyone quite like him, an absolute alchemy.

“Hello everyone.” He starts off at ease, eyes scanning the crowd with a terse smile that he needed to work on. “Thank you all for coming by to celebrate my good friends Steve and Peggy.”

Everyone claps. Ear piercing whistles erupt, men shake their fists and huzzah. You’re silently observant, still kind of prissy for god knows what.

“I know we don men don’t have moments like this as often as we should but because Steve is different I’m glad that he’s found you, Margaret.” Lloyd initiates and someone in the crowd lets out a relieved ‘amen.’

“He had a prayer and somehow the scoundrel saw it through.” He shakes his head with a sly grin. “So cheers to that, I guess.”

He raises his glass with one hand while the other is shoved in his trouser pocket.

“Cheers indeed.” Liza snickers next to you, downing her champagne immediately.

“Now before I take off there is something else I’d like to preface, do, challenge, be with… or without.” Lloyd stalls, staring down at his untouched champagne flute. His unabiding seriousness passes through the crowd who look to one another. Your brows were automatically drawn together, steering with doubt as he lulled his head back up.

“I met someone. Someone so fucking audacious that I thought to myself why not?” He starts off with a crass proclamation. “Maybe she could give me this.” He points to the environment around him.

“And maybe I’d be dumb enough to see it through.”

Whispers take flight. You were bludgeoned with disbelief. “So… what do you say, Y/N Y/L/N. Will you marry me?”

Gasps flit through the auditorium. Liza whips her head around and yips with excitement as the hall lights shine down on you. Like a fish out of water, your mouth puckers.

“This can’t be happening.” You mutter to your closest companion while remaining underwhelmingly overzealous.

“I mean this is what you wanted so…” she adds under her breath, bobbing and acknowledging the stares. “Talk about a man of grand gestures.”

“Tell me ‘bout it.”

“Sunshine?” Lloyd reverberates, holding the mic so very close to his bushy upper lip.

“Yes.” You quip. No second thoughts. No apprehension. No backing down.

“What was that?” He inquires, trying to read your perfectly glossy lips. “Was that a yes?” Someone confirms and he repeats. “Yes?”

“She said yes!” Everyone cheers with all the more reasons to do so.

Lloyd smiles right at you, coveted by his new missus. You didn’t realize that you’d be let on this far. But he had other plans and maybe stringing you along could be impactful.

[mars-library]

…why do I suddenly have a need for a fic where reader convinces ransom to participate in no shave November? 🥵

you’ve always had a thing for ✨beards✨ and Ransom knew that before you two became exclusive (he’s seen your ex’s bc you had the same friend group: there was a long haired beefy professor, a divorced lawyer, and the wannabe porn director) *long drabble below*

On a night out on the town with your friends, and after a few drinks, the talk of no shave November comes up when you’re conveniently getting refills.

“I just think it’s weird—she clearly has a type.” Carol props her elbow on the table, staring at Ransom. “Yet, she ended up with you.”

“She’s never complained.”

“Maybe not to your face.” Bucky says.

“It’s the beard, right? Well, the lack of one.” Steve adds lamely, “I thought of that too, but people make exceptions.”

Ransom feels jealously prickle at his skin. He was not an exception.

“Especially if they’re rich.” Curtis laughs.

“Not everyone is a gold digger like you. That reminds me, how is that girlfriend of yours? The one who’s literal seconds away from being in a grave?”

“Am I on her will? Maybe. So don’t come crying to me when your trust fund runs out.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Ransom scoffs, knowing well enough of the fortune he’s sitting on. The one that could support you too, but no, you want to be independent and not sit around his mansion all day. Still feeling those eyes locked on his face, he sighs deeply. “Can I help you, Carol?”

“I can’t stop thinking about it!”

“Thinking about what?” You pop up, carefully handing out the drinks. There’s an extra that you place in front of your boyfriend. “Some guy kept flirting with me and asked to buy me a drink, so I ordered one for you.”

“You’re the fucking best, baby.” Ransom grins, slipping out of the booth for you to sit on the inside. He slides back onto the cushion with an arm around your shoulders.

“What would Ransom look like with a beard?” Steve asks.

You tilt your head and squint. “Like one of my ex’s.”

“Okay, but you like beards, right?” If there’s one thing everyone knows about Carol is that she’s relentless, “all of your ex boyfriends had beards, or at least facial hair. Like that one with the moustache or the nerd with the goatee.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a clean shave.” You defend, knowing how Ransom doesn’t like talking about your ex’s. It was rough for him to see you with other guys, the girl who he’s been pining for since you met. “Look at Steve! He’s bare too—well sort of.”

“I shaved this morning, is it growing back already?” Steve rubs his chin, “Aw shit.”

“Maybe he needs some tips on growing a beard.” Curtis taunts, “need some help, Ran? It wouldn’t be very kind of me to leave you to suffer.”

“If he grew a beard, would you be more attracted to him?” Bucky asks.

“You can’t ask that!” Steve’s eyes widened. “That’s so rude!”

“Shut up, the adults are talking.” He waves a hand dismissively, prompting the blond to roll his eyes.

“Well?” Carol leans forward, a straw between her teeth.

You’re quiet for a few moments, the tension building with every breath. Your friends were so nosy!

“I can’t say I’ve never thought of it.”

Three out of the four erupt in cheers, Steve now thoughtfully looking at his reflection in a spoon. “Do women actually prefer facial hair?”

“No!” You avoid Ransom’s stare that burns through your skull. “Everyone is different.”

“But do you?” Bucky cuts their stupid celebration short.

“I’m not answering that.” You take a hearty gulp of your drink, welcoming the burning sensation down your throat.

“Do you prefer it?” Ransom speaks up, turning his whole body towards you and effectively trapping you in the booth. His brows are furrowed tightly, “do you prefer beards?”

“I—well… I mean… ugh! You’re all terrible!” You huff, hiding your face in your hands. “Yes, beards are hot! They’re sexy and immediately add a man to my DILF list, okay?”

“You have a list too?” Carol squeals, “who’s on it? I have a MILF list!”

“Am I on the list?” Ransom asks.

“You aren’t a dad.”

Yeah, but you call him daddy. And plenty of DILFs weren’t actual dads.

Now that he thinks of it, you did have a thing for older men too—especially when you dated that lawyer, his son wasn’t your age, but he was close enough that your new stepmom status was questionable.

“I don’t classify as a DILF to you?”

“Do we have to talk about this now?” You slump, “would you look sexy with a beard? Yes! But you do you look sexy without one? Of course! You could pull off any look, and I love you for you. Nothing will change just because I find beards attractive.”

It goes quiet and you finally think the topic is over, but nope. Carol picks up the shovel again, and digs you a deeper hole.

“But I imagine the beard burn feels really good, right? Better than just clean shaved?”

[mars-library]

Mischievous Monkey

pairing: Dad!Chris Evans x Mom!Reader

summary: After a routine family nap, a certain little Evans gets up to harmless no good deeds

-Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

Chris Evans Masterlist🌟

Full Masterlist💫

Taglist Form✨

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The mid winter afternoon sun spilled into warm living room, casting a soft orange glow over the snoring family. Chris Evans and his family were definitely one to take family naps on the daily, consisting of both his toddler Ellie and wife Y/n.

With an air mattress on the living room floor packed with blankets and pillows, and of course stuffies Ellie refused to sleep without, Elmer the giraffe. Chris lay on his back with one arm folded behind his head, another arm tucking his dear wife into his side and baby Ellie had taken it upon herself to sleep on top of her daddy’s chest.

“mmm” Ellie whimpered nuzzling her head further into her dad’s bare chest, her tiny hands clutching onto one of her mother’s fingers while the other had stuck a thumb into her own mouth for comfort. Dressed in her favourite bambi t-shirt dress, the three year old began to stir from her nap. Letting go of her momma’s finger and thumb, she lifted her head up cutely looking lost, almost forgetting where she was.

Using her diapered bottom as a cushion, the three year old slid off her daddy’s chest, landing with a bounce onto the air mattress. Ellie's specks of brown hair stood up in all directions, her face still puffy from her sweet nap.

“hmph” Looking around she felt bored but didn’t want to venture too far from her parents' side, not when there were boogie monsters hiding somewhere in the house. Her wide eyes looked around the room hopelessly, until a shiny thing by her daddy’s head caught her eye, his phone.

Stumbling to her feet, she tottered over and grabbed the phone with her hands, quiet squeals leaving her when the screen lit up. The three year old checked up on her parents, to see them now snuggling further into each other, oblivious to the antics their baby was getting up to while they snoozed. In fact Y/n now had one leg wrapped around Chris' waist with one arm around his torso, with both Chris' arms wrapping around his wife.

Little Ellie now felt left out and decided to do what she did best, cuddle. Trying to crawl into her parent’s arms seemed impossible, huffing out of her pouty lips she just sat staring at them both. Until the shiny thing once again caught her eye, her interest went further when she recognised the numbers from 1-9 on the screen, something her mom had spent time trying to teach her before kindergarten.

Pressing a wide spread of different numbers that peaked her interest, she got into what looked like a screen with multiple icons and squares, her dad’s homescreen.

“Oo birdie” She whispered seeing a blue icon with a white bird, reminding her of the times she had seen tweetie bird while watching Baby Looney Tunes with her parents during bottle time. She furrowed her brows when a complicated looking thing came up, all types of words and symbols all over the place. ‘messy’ she thought

Seeing the only thing she recognised was a ‘+’ button she decided to press it, with the alphabet coming up underneath giving her free reign to type whatever her heart felt content with. Starting with her ABCs typed out, she smiled proudly to herself before seeing the suggested words pop up above the keyboard.

Ellie clicked rapidly watching an abundance of words pop up onto the screen instantly bringing her tons of joy.

She only felt it was right to press the tick in the corner, thinking it meant she was correct, not realising she had posted it to Chris' 16 million twitter followers. Dropping the phone when she felt her father’s arm wrap around her waist,

“What are you doin up monkey?”

(Chris' P.O.V)

My eyes flickered open, my wife’s head tucked into my neck, with both my arms around her. Placing a soft kiss onto her forehead I turned my head to see my little princess facing away from me,

“What are you doin up monkey?”

“Nofin dada” Ellie replied cutely, my arms bringing her to sit atop my chest, her cute toothy smile making my heart swell with happiness.

To my side I felt Y/n pepper soft kisses onto my neck, signalling that she too was starting to wake up slowly. Sporting that same dazed look as Ellie, my wife lifted up her head and looked around before settling her head on my chest with a soft smile on her face.

“Hey baby” Y/n croaked out, bringing up a hand to cup Ellie's face as she nuzzled into it.

“C'mere love” Y/n cooed shifting over to create a small space between us, Ellie's face lightening up as she hurried to shuffle into the crevice. Her head laying on my torso, with half her body leaning on mine, Y/n’s arms kept around her waist affectionately.

Y/n who now had her head on my shoulder looked up at me, leaning forward to press a soft sweet kiss onto my lips, one which I greatly reciprocated,

“Wha bout me mama” Ellie pouted, making Y/n and I laugh, the both of us looking at each other before smothering Ellie in kisses on her face.

(Y/n's P.O.V)

Sharing kisses and cuddles with my family mid winter was always a treat, something i’m glad we included in our daily routine. I hugged Ellie tighter to my chest, basking in her soft baby powder scent, Chris’ arms enveloping us as he acted as our personal heater.

His arm rubbed up and down my back lovingly, his hands venturing up his shirt I was wearing, his other hand folded once again behind his back.

“Dads Ponies” Ellie pouted after a while, Chris smiling when he knew exactly what his daughter wanted.

“Okay monkey, let dada just get his phone alright?” Chris sighed sitting up a bit to reach his phone, only to find it vibrating every single second, hell faster if even.

“What on Earth?” He whispered unlocking his phone showing it to me, Ellie had now quietened down instead looking up at the screen with us. Chris’ twitter had hundreds of thousands of notifications over some tweet he apparently just posted, when we were asleep?

“Ellie? Were you on dada's phone” I asked sweetly

“Was only playing alphabet” She smiled turning around to hug into my body,

“I mean she definitely practiced, that’s for sure” Chris laughed showing me the supposed tweet,

“Abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyzaisjwjis fuck susnduwui baby usnwusjw groceries whensuje love”

“Look mama, alfbet” Ellie shouted excitedly pointing to her work on Chris' phone, Chris' face lighting up and congratulating his little princess for being so smart.

Chris then took it upon himself to take a selfie of us all cuddling on this huge mattress with hundreds of blankets, explaining the funny situation to his fans.

“Alright Ellie, time to get changed” I said slowly sitting up,

“No mama wan' hug” Ellie pouted crossing her arms, which was really her just grabbing her opposite elbows, her eyes already threatening to water with tears.

“After tubby time baby, we can play with toys yeah?”

“Toy?” She quirked with an eyebrow up, already climbing to her feet on the wobbly air bed, Chris’ hands ghosting around her in case she fell

“Tubbies mama, now”

“Alright miss bossy pants m'comin” I laughed chasing after her small body running after the stairs, feeling a large hand spank my ass as I got off the mattress. Gasping to see Chris whistling and acting as if he had just done nothing, causing me to shake my head and run after our little girl.

———

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @sairsei @patzammit @madebylilly @bxdbxtxh15 @tojisbabymommy @dumb-fawkin-bitch @vrittivsanghavi @chrisevansdaughter @kimhtoo17 @itsaylayay1213 @evanstanwhore @mrspeacem1nusone @thereisa8ella @seren-a-ity @pandaxnienke @chrisevansangel @royalwriteroftheuniverse

[mars-library]

out of left field - series masterlist

Out of Left Field

Pairing: MLB!Chris Evans x Best Friend!Reader (female character)

Summary: After 29 years of friendship with Chris, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him. When he finds himself in the midst of a PR nightmare at the same time your ex-boyfriend starts lurking around every corner, you enter into a mutually beneficial, strictly PR relationship to save his career and keep your ex away. But the lines begin to blur and lies get told, both you and Chris realizing you might’ve bitten off more than you can chew. Will you make it out unscathed or will you and Chris be just another PR relationship that ends in heartbreak and humiliation? 

A/N: This series will more than likely have smut, 18+ only please! I’m so excited for you guys to read this series, I just had to make the masterlist! 

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All players and scenarios are made up completely. This story does not reflect things that actually happen in the MLB or with its players or with Chris in real life. 

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

I no longer have a taglist! Please head over to @time-for-a-library​ and turn on notifications!

Part 1 - This Is Bad (Monday, August 1)

Part 2 - I Can’t Do This Without You (Monday, August 8)

Part 3 - Target Practice (Monday, August 15)

Part 4 - Stu (Monday, August 22) 

Part 5 - Now or Never (Monday, August 29)

(there will be more parts, this is just what I have completed and titled) 

[mars-library]

Headcanon

Ari being your dad’s best friend and being tasked with looking out for you while your dad is away doing business stuff, and let’s just say stuff gets pretty “steamy”

honestly don’t know what came over me this is so fucked up😭

pairing || dbf! ari levinson x reader

warnings || age gap, daddy kink, slight misogyny, dark but consensual, spitting, slapping, choking, dumbification, pussyjob, overstimulation, oral f receiving, brief oral m receiving, degradation, public but secluded

as always with nothing better to do cooped up at home during your summer break, your dad away on business trips and unable to see your friends, you decide to spend your days at mr. levinsons home, he was a close companion and confidant of your father and you two had always gotten along well enough

not to mention how he was every single one of your wet dreams come true

but who could really blame you for your mind going straight to the gutter like that because he was charmingly handsome, rugged and burly and with those tight shirts he wore it was easy to ogle his bulging biceps

currently, you were outside soaking up the warm rays of the sun by the pool in a deliberately skimpy bathing suit, thin, pink, and strappy

your eyes closed, body falling in and out of that blissful sun ray induced consciousness as you fail to notice ari making his way to the pool as well, and only when your warm rays were interrupted by a cool shadow you opened your eyes, body snapped out of your haze as your adjusted your eyes to see who had disturbed your serenity

lo and behold it was ari, dressed in a tight dark blue t-shirt, denim jeans in the scorching heat, and aviator sunglasses perched on his nose, shielding his cerulean blue eyes from the intense sun beams

his arms are crossed over his chest and you thank yourself for choosing to put on some sunglasses so he couldn’t see how your eyes were trained to the large muscle and veins, you bite your lip and subtly rub your thighs together as he begins to speak

“you gonna spend your whole summer sitting by my pool?”

“unless you have any better ideas then yes, i’m gonna spend my whole summer by your pool ari”

his jaw ticks and his gaze flickers down to your chest, where you had practically everything on display besides your nipples, which were peeking through the thin material of your bikini, bare stomach and legs all glimmering in the sunlight

he openly stares at you, shameless in his eyes raking over your seductive form

in a perfect world the tension would break and he would finally have his way with you because you know that there’s been something bubbling between you two ever since you dropped your bags at his front door earlier that week and you'd be lying if you pretended you weren't trying to push him to his limits

until he finally broke and had his way with you

you cross your arms under your chest, "get out of the way ari. you're disrupting my afternoon!"

ari scoffs, crossing his thick arms over his chest, t-shirt clinging to his form and biceps literally bulging, "watch your attitude sweetie, would hate to have to teach you some goddamn manners."

and now you're annoyed, rolling your eyes and furrowing your brows as you retort, "what are you gonna do? make me pack my things and leave? my dad would be pissed if you left me on my own."

he laughs, fucking laughs before pouting at you, and the mocking makes your stomach clench

"aww poor baby needs a big strong man to protect her? don't worry sweetie, daddy's gonna take care 'a you."

you gasp, and you can't tell if the sudden intense heat flaring inside you is due to the beating sun or ari calling himself daddy

"y-you're not my daddy!"

suddenly his thick hand is wrapping around the back of your neck, connecting all the way around your throat as he pulls you into him, your hands feebly grasping his wrist as you let out a strangled gasp in shock

“my roof, my fucking rules baby. at my house, i’m your fucking daddy you got that? he spits

your breath hitches as a cloud of submission hazes over you, his hand around your throat and his words combining to be of such pure dominance you feel like melting

a whine lodges in your throat as you continue to look at him until you feel a light slap on your cheek making a moan stumble past your lips

“fuckin’ slut. i asked you, do you understand?”

you nod your head as best you can, mindlessly and obediently, lips parting and a depraved expression morphing your features

“words baby. don’t make me say it again.”

“i understanddd.” your words extend on a whine

“who the fuck am i?”

“y-you’re my daddy.”

he smirks, hand now squishing your cheeks together, “open your mouth sweetie.”

you try to obey him as best you could, eyes watering as you attempt to open your mouth despite his relentless hold and it’s obvious ari knows you’re struggling because he’s smirking the whole time

“this is for not having any manners and talking back to daddy.”

he spits in your mouth, watching as your eyes hood over and you moan out loud, “don’t fucking swallow it.” he demands

you would do anything he told you, so you let it drip down your tongue, down your chin and onto ari’s hand as he laughs at how filthy you already look before spitting again, this time missing your mouth as he slaps the spit onto the skin of your cheeks and your pussy is throbbing from the lack of attention

you hump the air desperately, eyeing the bulge straining against ari’s jeans, and you can only imagine how big he was, at his large stature of 6’5 and all muscle, you don’t even know if he’d fit

“daddy please, please need you so bad please” you whine pathetically, your entire demeanour so different from ari’s it makes you even more stupid

ari seems to take pity on you, finally, he coos at you, pushing you back onto the chair as he eyes the dark spot on your bikini bottoms and seeping down your thighs

he tuts at you, “stupid girl you’re making a mess! all because you’re a filthy little slut hmm?”

you nod and whine, spreading your legs to show him your drippy pussy, and he groans at the sight, your hole is clenching around nothing, clearly crying to be filled as your cream coats your swollen folds

he honestly can’t help himself when he accidentally tears your bikini bottom in two in an attempt to get his fingers coated in your slick

you mewl at the messy contact, as he simultaneously groans, imagining your tight pussy clenching around him, struggling to take him but sucking him in regardless

he swears under his breath, he knows he wont be able to fit himself inside you but he needs to feel you cum

you plead, “please daddy please fuck me! need you so bad need it hard and fast and need you to make me cum please daddy!”

he shakes his head, “i don’t think so sweetie, this pussy is too tight, i don’t want to hurt you.”

“no please daddy i can take it please! i can take it i promise i will!”

he furrows his brows, slapping your greedy pussy making you convulse and buck your hips up as he scolds you, “that’s enough, daddy said no. i have another idea sweetie. something that’ll feel good for both of us.”

“please daddy i’ll do anything!”

“then get my fucking cock out slut.” he slaps your swollen pussy again, groaning at the wet sound that echoes into the open, private backyard

your hands scramble to undo his zip and button, shakily pulling his cock out and marvelling at the sheer size of him, he was huge.

he can see you take aback by the size of him as he smirks, wrapping his thick hand around his cock and jerking himself off languidly, right in front of you

your mind fogs with the need to have him in your mouth so you lean forward and get a kitten lick over his tip before he’s pushing you away and slapping his dick on your cheek

“did i tell you to use your fucking mouth?”

you whine, “b-but daddy i couldn’t help it!”

he mocks your submissive stutter, raising his pitch in a lewd attempt to mock your voice, “w-well daddy doesn’t give a shit. are you such a stupid baby you don’t have any control over yourself?”

you whimper, unable to respond as he hums a “that’s what i fucking thought.”

he manhandles you until your completely on your back, and you can’t even care about the fact that you’re outside on this patio couch being such a slut for your dads closest friend

“ever heard of a pussy job baby?”

you whimper and shake your head no, as he looms directly above you, invading all your senses with his bulging biceps and now displaying his hairy chest since his t-shirt was thrown somewhere between him manhandling you and you trying not to cum on the spot

he smirks, spreading and toying with your folds before coating his dick in your slick, and moving himself so his hands were wrapped around your thighs, pushing them together with your ankles dangling over his shoulders

he doesn’t say anything, just pushes his dick onto your slit and instead of entering you like you so pathetically wished he would, he just rubbed his whole length against your pussy

fucking you without actually fucking you

you mewl lewdly as his dick nudges your clit, back arching at the overwhelming sensation

ari throws his head back at the feel of you, so warm and wet and swollen

“o-oh daddy!! t-that feels- so much-” your sentence makes no sense, as the simple feel of ari’s heavy weight against your poor pussy makes you dumb

he laughs and spits on your face, rubbing it in again as he begins to fuck onto you with more vigour, his balls slapping against your other hole and his dick sliding well onto your stomach after it catches on your clit

“dumb baby can’t talk? just shut the fuck up and let daddy use you.”

you’re immediately breathless, chest erratically rising and failing, toes curling and heels digging into his back, your own back arching and already nearing your peak

he continues to groan about what a stupid mindless toy you are while losing himself in the feel of your slick cunt, fucking his hips harder with each thrust

“daddy ‘m gonna cum! please daddy ‘m gonna cum so hard! please let me!” you sob, hands scrambling to find something to hold on to and ultimately landing on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin

“fuck yeah, fuckin’ make a mess on daddy, c’mon show me what you’re good for baby, stupid dumb little fucking baby.” he grunts each word, nearing his own peak but wanting to see you fall apart first

you squeal as your body immediately relaxes then tightens, wildly convulsing as you shake and spray your release all over yourself and him, your eyes rolling back and stars painting your vision, you can’t even feel his plump lips on your neck, biting the skin there as he fucks his hips sloppily but hard, before grunting your name and coating your stomach and some of your tits in his cream

you lay there quivering as he catches his breath, after one of the most mindblowing orgasms he’s had and you the same

he lets your twitching legs down, biting his lip at his cum painted all over you and how absolutely fucked out you look

he lets you catch your breath, kissing your forehead sweetly and rubbing your arms, before scooping some of the cum off your stomach and bending down to your pussy, messily rubbing it over your swollen folds

he licks his lips at the debauched sight, leaning in and latching his pink lips onto your clit and licking everywhere he can

you squeal, wildly bucking your hips again as the sensations overwhelm you, before his deep baritone surrounds you, “gotta clean up this mess. you’re gonna take it until daddy’s done with his pussy.”