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#lloyd Hansen x reader
chxrryhansen · 7 months
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𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐌𝐁 𝐀𝐔
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Pairing; Dark!Club Owner Ari x Shy!Reader
Warnings; dark themes, unbalanced power dynamic, daddy kink, no smut in this part but as usual Minors Please DNI!!
Summary; You knew it was a bad idea showing up to the most notorious club in the city, but it’s your best friend’s birthday and you can’t say no, right? So, what happens when the owner himself, Ari Levinson, spots you at the bar, claiming you as his own from the moment he laid eyes on you.
It’s finally here! The first instalment of my very first series, apologies for no smut but i promise the next part will be very smutty to make up for it 👀 bare in mind this is just the introduction!!! please don’t be afraid to ask questions and remember to reblog and comment💗 i love to hear your guys feedback!
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐
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You climb out of the uber, reaching to pull the hem of your dress down as you and your friends stumble towards the club.
You had finally agreed to try out the biggest club in the city, "Cherry Bomb.” Since it was your best friend Sarah's birthday your group decided it was only fair she could choose which clubs you were going to tour for the night. You had been putting it off ever since the opening night a few months ago, the reputation not being something you had particularly wished to be involved with.
All you knew was bad things happened there, and from what you had heard the owners, Ari Levinson and Lloyd Hansen, two brothers in arms, were so cruel and unforgiving that even the richest men in the city dared not to step foot in the place, and those who did shortly regretted it. Their names were known around the streets, the most notorious club owners to exist, 70% of clubs in the city all belonging to them, more money under their belt than the government itself.
An incident a few weeks back had became the talk of the town, according to Sarah a well known patron had gotten a little handsy with one of the clubs dancers and when he was given a warning to back off, he refused. Claiming he spent enough money in the club grounds to do as he pleased, including groping innocent dancers without permission.
Long story short the bouncers ended up forcibly removing the man, cussing and struggling on his way out of course, you know, the usual druken male rage and feeling of entitlement. Seemed like a pretty convenient coincidense that the exact same night the man was found beaten to a bloody pulp in a back alley, his face practically unrecognisible.
It wasn't long before the 'rumour' was quickly snuffed out. They were good at that, making things.. people, dissapear. Almost as if it never happened... as if they never exhisted.
Now that you were standing infront of it, you couldn't deny, it was beautiful. Even from the outside, the bright neon sign glowing in the moonlight, multiple bouncers blocking the large glass stained doors, making sure to check each persons id before unhooking the stanchion, allowing said persons entry. The queue seeming endless.
Lucky for you, your friends had been gifted VIP tickets, you didn't even bother to ask who they got those from, or how. You didn't want to know. You flashed your id at the pretty bouncer, his buzzed hair, large muscles and stern face making it quite obvious as to why he had the job he did.
You bounced your foot as he scanned over your card before opening the barrier and letting you inside. Sarah was quick to grip each of your hands, practically dragging you inside once you began to hesitate, not wanting you to change your mind so soon.
"Come on, babe, let's get those sweet legs moving!" Sarah hollers from ahead, her hand intertwined with your own as the rest of the girls hurried towards a booth.
"I-I don't know if this is a good idea, Sare.." you mumbled, fiddling with your fingers as she tugged you towards your friends and giving you a slight nudge into the cushioned seats, the red velvet material instantly soothing your hot thighs as you sat.
She reached down, holding your cheeks in both hands and facing you towards herself, sliding into the booth next to you "Listen, i know you're worried and if it makes you feel better i promise we can leave and go somewhere else, but just give it a try, please...for me?" she pleaded, giving you her famous puppy dog eyes.
"You know i can't resist that face." you whined as she cheered.
As you slowly got more drunk you began to forget why you didn't want to visit. The atmosphere was astronomical, the whole club being fit for royalty. The girls hooted and hollered as you trotted off towards the bar on your way to buy in a round of drinks. You waited at the bar with your card in hand but as you went to hand it over to the bartender he paused you.
“It’s on the house.” he says while he wipes down the bar with a rag, a smile on his face. He was handsome in all fairness, standing at around 6'2, his bright blonde locks and pretty blue eyes causing you to pause for a moment before giving him a puzzled look, tilting your head sideways.
“Is it a nightly special or something? I didn’t see anything about free drinks on the poster outside…” you begin yet he’s already scuttling off to take another couples order, shooting you a sly smile over his shoulder. Leaving you even more confused than before.
You slowly reach for the tray of shots when you feel a large hand on your shoulder, causing you to spin around in shock, ready to fight off any unwanted men. You pause yet again, having to look up to catch the mans face.
His 6’5 form towers over your much smaller figure, dressed in a dark purple suit and tie, his pearly blues shining in the colourful strobe lights, looking down at you with a slight smirk. His dark beard covered most of his face and his long curtains framed his godly sculpted face. Even with his suit on his arms bulged through the material, his thick biceps almost bigger than your head.
You shortly snapped out of your daze as his leather gloved hand squeezed your arm. “C-Can i help you, sir?” you stammered, worried incase you had been caught gauking.
He laughs “Not even a thankyou, Sweetheart? I thought you’d have better manners than that.” he teases, his rough voice sending shivers down your spine. You stutter as you try to find your words, seeming as they were lodged in the back of your throat.
“I’m kidding, name’s Ari…you gonna’ give me the curtesy of knowing yours or you just gonna’ keep starin’ at me with those pretty eyes?”
“A-Ari as in… Levinson?” you question, swallowing harshly as the nerves quickly built in your stomach.
He shakes his head gently with a smirk "So you know me, huh?"
Your eyes widen at the realisation of who the mystery man is, your arms instantly beginning to shake, your card still in hand. You were never good at dealing with situations such as this one, always being labled as the 'shy girl' of your group. Sarah being the complete opposite. Usually men in this situation would back off, sensing your uncomfortable trembles and leaving you alone, but not Ari. If anything the smirk on his face grew wider at the sense of your fear.
"Steve, why don't you head over to booth two, give the girls their shots." Ari calls out towards the handsome bartender from earlier.
The man, Steve, is at your side in an instant "No prob man, have fun you two." he winks, collecting the glasses and sauntering off with a wink.
Ari shakes his head with a laugh, “Why don’t you come with me.” he leans down to whisper in your ear. The vibration of his vocals in your ears sending shivers down your spine before he struts forwards, holding out his thick palm for you to grab on to, and almost as if your in a trance, you begin to trail behind him without hesitation. Sliding your smaller palm into his own as he led you through the club.
Your nerves never allowed you to talk much, or make your own decisions, that being the reason you followed the stranger without any question asked, which is exactly why Sare was usually always there to do it for you. But, your drunken confidence had allowed you to go to the bar alone, which you were beginning to really regret. Your confidence being blown out of the park as the attractive beast watched you from infront with a careful eye.
Shortly you arried at the unknown destination, trailing nervously behind Ari as he unlocked a large door, which was infact bolted shut. He pushed open the door, looking down at you, edging you to enter, and so you did. Your eyes lit up as they searched the vast room, expensive furnature lining the room, bottles of champagne worth more than your house filling the cupboards above his desk.
Ari pushed the door closed, moving to sit on a cushioned purple chair, his thick thighs spread wide as he removed his gloves, pouring himself, and you, a glass of his finest drink. His cold eyes beckoned you forwards, your legs shaking as you stepped towards him, standing inbetween his spread legs.
He patted his thigh with one hand "Sit." he called out, his voice sweet yet stern.
You looked at him shocked, your lips parting slightly, were you really going to sit on his lap? A man you just met? Who you didn't even know? "I-I don't think i should Mr Levinson." you whispered.
His eyes grew shades darker at your refusal, not even giving you time to debate your decisions he reached out, gripping your waist in his thick palm and pulling you down, sitting you sideways on his lap as you gasp in shock. His other hand pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear as you squirmed under the pressure.
"Pretty girl, next time i ask you to do something, you do it. No questions asked. You understand?" he asked in a low growl.
You swallowed your nerves and nodded gently under his deep gaze, your body trembling.
"Ah ah, words baby."
"Yes, M-Mr Levinson, I-I understand."
Ari groaned underneath his breath, not understanding how lucky he had gotten that a pretty little thing like you would just waltse right in at the perfect moment, almost as if you were made for him. Like a lamb in a lions den. "As much as i love the way you say my name, call me Ari, sweet girl."
Again, you followed his command. "Yes, Ari."
"Good girl." he rumbled, pulling your bottom lip gently inbetween his index and thumb, loving the way you felt on his lap. Your innocence and submissive nature automatically triggering his dominance, his cock growing hard in his slacks as your plump ass squirmed on his knee.
You keened at his praise, a fluttery feeling appearing in your lower half. Of course Ari noticed this, the way your pussy pulsated on his thigh told him all he needed to know.
"You ever been with a man before, sweetheart?" Ari asks while he strokes your hair, not even having to shout due to the soundproof room blocking out the clubs music.
"Um, n-no i haven't, my Grandma wouldn't really approve of that sort of stuff, she said i should wait till m-marriage." you whisper shyly.
Ari blows out a puff of air at your innocence, desperately trying to control himself. All he wants is to ruin you, in every way you can imagine, and more. He smirks, leaning into your shoulder, pressing his nose against your sensitive neck and taking a deep inhale. Groaning softly, your sweet scent driving his instincts wild.
"Your Grandma seems like a very smart lady, little girl. You live with just her, huh?"
"Yeah, i never really knew my m-mom and dad, and my grandpa died shorly after i was born s-so it's pretty much always just been me and her. She does her best to take care of me, taught me everything i know." you speak with a bright smile, Ari notices how your stutter stopped when talking about her, he thought it was sweet, how much you must care about her.
However, the dark side of his mind was quick to take a seat, the realisation that you never had a father figure making his cock impossibly harder. Knowing he could be that for you, and knowing you needed a strong man like him in your life to make all those decisions for you.
"I think i changed my mind, baby. Why don't you call me daddy from now on, mkay?" he spoke softly, yet the edge in his tone still clear.
"D-Daddy?" you muttered, confused as to why he would want you to call him that.
He moaned hearing your sweet voice call him by his new found title. Taking a deep breath, he sighed, choosing not to elaborate on his previous statement. "Good girl. I'm gonna' take care of you from now on, yeah? Anything you need, you come to me. Pass me your phone, sweet girl."
"Oh, i-i don't have a phone.. daddy."
Ari's eyebrows knit together softly "You don't have a phone? Why not?"
You shake your head, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment. "We uhm, w-we can't really afford that sort of stuff."
"Well that just won't do." he speaks in a teasing tone, tickling your waist making you giggle softly.
Suddenly a loud bang causes you to shoot upright, you quickly dash off Ari's lap, moving to stand away from him, his office door slamming shut as a tall moustached man enters. Your eyes widen in fright, knowing how violent the man standing infront of you truly was. You knew who he was too, Sare had told you plenty of stories about the cruel Lloyd Hansen. You often wondered if he even had a soul.
"Man it's fuckin' packed down there, what the fuck are you doing up here." the man groans, not even noticing you until he turns. He lifts his sunglasses, staring you down, his eyes scanning over your figure, pausing and licking his lips at the soft flesh beneath the cut of your dress, your pretty pink dress having ridden up your thighs.
"Lloyd." Ari bellows, sighing in annoyance at his disruption.
A smirk similar to Ari's appears on the man, Lloyd's, face. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?" he speaks in a sultry voice. He begins his descent in your direction and the second gets a little too close, Ari shoots up out of his seat, moving to stand infront of you. A low rumble vibrating through his chest.
Ari stood slightly taller than Lloyd, with broader shoulders and thicker legs, the muscles in his back visible as he stood infront of you, almost as if he was protecting you, a hand wrapped around your hips rubbing his thumb in circular motions over your dress….and of course the most important detail, his luscious full beard compared to Lloyds 90s porn stache. They stared each other down, asserting some sort of dominance over one another… Ari seemingly winning as Lloyd begins to back up.
He lets out a chuckle, lifting his hands in a surrender position, taking a few steps back. "I mean no harm, just wanna' ask the pretty girl for her name, s'all."
You begin to quiver yet again, Lloyd's presence scaring you back into your shell. His dangerous aura sending goosebumps across your trembling figure. "I-I think i sh-should go." you whisper, tugging at the hem of your dress in a desperate attempt to calm your nerves.
"Don't move, sweets. Lloyd. Get the fuck out of here man." Ari bellows.
“I think you’ll find this club is mine just as much as it is yours, big bro. C’mon. Introduce me to the beauty.” he chucked yet again, probably at Ari’s fury. Steam was practically pouring out of his ears at this point. He didn’t even want Lloyd looking at you, nevermind talking to you.
“I mean it Lloyd get the fuck outta’ here man-“
Before he can stop you, you make a quick dash for the door and at the sound of Ari's resistance your legs carry you quicker than you could've ever imagined. Not looking back once as you pull the door open, swiftly shutting the door behind you.
You take a deep, your chest heaving at the stress of the situation, wiping your sweaty hands on your dress and making your descent down the club stairs, shaking your head in confusion and fear, eager to find your friends, craving their comfort and hearing a hushed "You fuckin' asshole." in the distance.
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imyourbratzdoll · 6 months
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Hey babe!! I'm beyond obsessed with your recent Lloyd/Ransom lollipop fic! Could we perhaps get a follow up where Lloyd tests out said lollipop on reader?👀🥵
hi baby! I'm so so so sorry for taking so long to do your request! I hope you like what I've done.
last part to wedding crasher and the prequel lollipop
summary - after your ex ransom crashed yours and lloyd's wedding and revealing your dirty little secret. your now husband wants to try it out for himself on your honeymoon.
warning - smut, food play, being called a slut, daddy kink.
18+ only please, the gif isn't mine and divider by @newlips
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After the wedding and your ex crashing it, Lloyd decided during your honeymoon that he should be allowed to experience your lollipop kink. So, that’s exactly what he did. After a lovely romantic dinner, he led you back up to the room and threw you on the bed, reaching over with a devilish smile as he pulled out a strawberry lollipop from underneath his pillow, bringing you into a rough make out session before he begins with his plans. Which leaves us too now.
“Stay still, Pumpkin. Let daddy fuck you with this sweet treat.” Lloyd growls, you’re sprawled out on the bed, lips puffy and swollen from your husband kissing you roughly, your cunt dripping as you anticipate what’s going to happen. Lloyd lies between your legs, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he eyes your glistening folds. One hand grips your hip, holding it down while the other rubs a strawberry flavoured lollipop between your folds. The lolly bumping against your puffy clit causes soft whimpers to fall from your lips. “I chose strawberry for us, Pumpkin. So, whenever you see anything resembling a strawberry, you’ll think back to this night.” He smirks, “Be a good girl for daddy.” He says with a hint of a warning behind his words, knowing how greedy you can be once he gives into your desires.
Your eyes roll back as he pushes the sweet treat into your cunt, his cock twitches as he watches you practically suck the thing in as though it were your mouth doing it. “L–Lloyd!” Smack “Daddy!” You moan as he coats the lolly with your juices, picking up the pace and swirling it around, hitting your sweet spot. 
Lloyd thrusts the lollipop faster and harder into your sweet cunt, his thumb connecting to your puffy clit, groaning as your back lifts from the mattress and you begin to squirm. Your fingers curl into the bedsheets as he fucks you hard, slowly turning you into his kinky little slut with each movement. Lloyd huffs out a chuckle, “Huh, your ex was right. You are a kinky little slut.” 
His words cause tingles to erupt throughout your body, juices flowing out of your now strawberry-flavoured cunt as you cum. You slowly sink back into the mattress, hazy eyes locking onto Lloyd’s as he gently pulls out the lollipop, you whimper as you watch him put it in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the treat as he collects your taste. Your eyes widen as he crawls up your body, leaning over you with the lollipop hanging loosely in his mouth. He hums, “I think I just found my new favourite treat, Pumpkin.” 
The rest of the night is filled with everything imaginable, not leaving the bed until two days had passed and you were utterly fucked out. 
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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devilishcupid · 1 year
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hot evil characters who i want to fix but will make me cry if i actually meet them in real life>>>>>>
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blac-ivy · 10 months
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I know not every mc can be strong willed, I understand that the people you love can be your greatest weakness... But nothing pisses me off like a flimsy reader/mc.
Bro's cheated 27 times, ran over your mum, then reversed the car back over her to 'assess the damage', boiled your goldfish, waxed one of your eyebrows, let his sidechick call you the Pillsbury doughboy, his mum treats you like shit stuck to her shoe and doesn't give a fuck about you the entirety of your relationship... But as soon as mc finds the strength to move on, a kiss on your 'sweet spot' is all it takes and you're weak at the knees. This is the 21st century, be a baddie go show your panty or something like ohmygod?!?! Stand up!!.
Nothing makes me walk away from a fic as fast as seeing someone who doesn't deserve forgiveness get forgiven after doing the bare minimum, or like when they've wronged someone and they leave them but they were pregnant or something
" why didn't you tell me?'' "I deserve to know" Shut up you deserve nothing.
For the love of god, get angry, get evil, get even, throw hands if you must.
Like I don't know who I want to fight more, the characters or the writers.
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Bad Romance
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Character: Lloyd Hansen x Ex-wife!Reader
Summary: On his dying breath, he made a choice: to seek refuge in the one place he still considered safe—his ex-wife's house.
Words Count: 4,089
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 
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As the raindrops pelted his face, each impact weighed down his eyelids, making them droop with exhaustion. With a muttered curse escaping his lips, he grumbled, "Fuck."
Tonight, he faced multiple betrayals, each cutting deeper than the last. His best friend, boss, team, agency—all had turned their backs on him, sacrificing him like a pawn in a game he no longer understood.
And for what? For all he had sacrificed and given, this was the thanks he received.
Dragging his feet through the sodden ground, he felt the weight of his exhaustion and pain bearing down on him like a leaden anchor. His body screamed for respite, for release from the torment that plagued him. But still, he pressed on, his gaze fixed on the faint light in the distance, a beacon of hope in the midst of the darkness.
His body language betrayed his struggle, his shoulders slumped with weariness, his movements labored and unsteady. Yet, he refused to yield to the darkness that threatened to consume him. He pushed forward with every ounce of determination, driven by a stubborn resilience that refused to be extinguished.
But as the rain continued to fall and the pain in his wound intensified, a chilling thought invaded his mind. "Is this how it ends? Alone, in the cold and the dark?" Finally, his strength gave out, his body surrendering to the inevitable embrace of unconsciousness.
🌅
As he slowly blinked open his eyes, he was greeted by a sudden burst of brightness, the sun's rays piercing through the whiteness that surrounded him. "Am I in heaven?" he murmured, his voice barely audible amidst the surreal scene.
His confusion deepened as he felt something wet against his hand. "What-" His words trailed off as he glanced down, his eyes widening in shock at the sight before him.
There, by his side, was a shepherd dog, its tail wagging eagerly as it gazed up at him with a warm, friendly smile. "I guess it's true, dogs go to heaven," he mused softly, his disbelief mingling with a flicker of amusement.
"Woof," the dog barked cheerfully, before bounding onto the bed beside him, its tongue lolling out as it showered him with affectionate licks. "Stop," he protested weakly, though a smile tugged at the corners of his lips despite himself.
Lloyd had never been particularly fond of dogs, but there was something about this canine companion that stirred a long-forgotten warmth within him. Memories of a puppy he once cared for flooded his mind, though it had been years since he had last thought of it.
Running his fingers through the dog's fur, he couldn't help but notice the striking resemblance it bore to that cherished pet from his past.
"You look like someone I knew," he murmured softly, a pang of nostalgia tugging at his heartstrings as he allowed himself to be comforted by the presence of his unexpected companion.
"He would be saddened if he understood what you just said. Don't you remember Choco?"
Lloyd's heart skipped a beat as her voice pierced the air, drawing his attention away from the dog and towards the source of the sound. Slowly, he turned around, and there she stood — the woman with whom he had once shared a lifetime.
His ex-wife.
You stood before him, holding a tray of food, your expression unreadable. Despite the years that had passed since he last laid eyes on you, you seemed unchanged. There was no trace of worry in your demeanor, only a cool detachment that sent a shiver down his spine.
Even now, after four long years since the finalization of their divorce, you remained a constant presence in his life, a reminder of all that he had lost. The years had not softened your gaze or dulled the edge of your resentment.
As he met your gaze, there was no warmth, no flicker of recognition in your eyes. Only a steely resolve that spoke volumes of the lingering animosity between them. At that moment, he realized that despite the passage of time, some wounds never truly healed.
Lloyd's voice broke the silence, filled with a hint of nostalgia and warmth. "It's really nice to see you, sunshine."
You responded with a dismissive "Hmph," setting down the tray of food and medicine beside him. As you observed him lying on the bed, a surge of conflicting emotions washed over you.
Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine having him back in your life, especially in such a vulnerable state. Four years ago, you had scrubbed every trace of him from your existence, convinced that you were better off without him.
But fate had a cruel way of intervening. Just last week, Choco's persistent barking had led you to investigate, eventually guiding you to the sight of your ex-husband sprawled in the mud, wounded and on the brink of death.
The sight had shocked you to the core, dredging up memories of the tumultuous past you had shared. His dangerous job, the reason you had chosen to walk away from him, now seemed to loom over you like a grim specter.
Seeing him alive, breathing, and smiling with that smug expression plastered across his face, you couldn't help but question yourself. Why did you save him? As you tended to his wounds, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions raged within you.
You couldn't help but let out a sarcastic remark, your tone laced with equal parts irritation and concern. "With who this time did you make trouble?"
Lloyd's reaction was immediate, his expression caught off guard by your directness. This was the woman he remembered, the one who could simultaneously infuriate and enthrall him. "A lot of people, pumpkin," he replied casually, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.
You rolled your eyes at his response, unable to suppress a wry smile. "Always a troublemaker," you muttered under your breath, the familiarity of the exchange bringing a sense of deja vu.
"Yup. That's why you like me," Lloyd quipped back, a cocky grin spreading across his face as he attempted to lighten the mood.
You didn't dignify his remark with a response, instead choosing to focus on examining his wound. Gently raising his arm, you inspected the injury with practiced care, noting the signs of improvement with a sense of relief. "No more infection," you announced, your voice tinged with a hint of satisfaction.
As you continued your examination, Lloyd couldn't resist interjecting with a hint of pride in his voice. "Did you notice I've gained more muscles?"
You couldn't deny the subtle changes in his physique, resulting from his relentless pursuit of his dangerous profession. But you refused to acknowledge it aloud, knowing that it would only inflate his already sizable ego.
"How did you find out my place?" you questioned, a mix of curiosity and wariness in your voice.
Lloyd met your gaze squarely, his expression unapologetic. "I always check on you. Just in case," he replied casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
After the divorce, he had never truly let you out of his sight, a fact that both unsettled and infuriated you. It was as if he couldn't bear the thought of you moving on without him, even though your relationship had long since run its course.
But for Lloyd, the idea of you being with someone else was intolerable. He couldn't stomach the thought of you in another man's arms, couldn't bear the thought of someone else laying claim to what had once been his.
And so, he took matters into his own hands, using underhanded tactics to sabotage any potential suitors that crossed your path. From slashing tires to sabotaging work projects, he left no stone unturned in ensuring you remained single.
The mere thought of you with another man made him sick to his stomach, a bitter taste rising in his throat. But despite his best efforts to keep you all to himself, he knew deep down that he couldn't control your heart.
And yet, he couldn't help but cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe, you would come back to him in the end.
As Lloyd found himself teetering on the brink of death, his world collapsing around him, he felt a desperate longing for safety and solace. Betrayed by his team, abandoned by his friends, and hunted by the very agency he once served, he was left with nowhere to turn.
With each labored step, he struggled to keep moving forward, to escape the clutches of death that threatened to consume him. But amidst the chaos and despair, a flicker of recognition sparked within his subconscious, guiding him towards a beacon of hope in the darkness.
And then, as if by some miracle, he remembered you. Your address, your home—the one place where he knew he could find refuge, if only for a fleeting moment.
Driven by a primal instinct for survival, his body moved of its own accord, drawing him inexorably towards your doorstep. With each passing moment, the distance between them narrowed, until finally, he stood before your door, battered and broken but alive.
At that moment, as he reached for salvation, he clung to the faint hope that you would offer him sanctuary from the storm that raged within and without. For in the depths of his despair, he knew that he could find the peace and redemption he so desperately sought in your arms.
You let out a sigh, the weight of Lloyd's words sinking in. "Does that mean they knew about me?" you asked, your voice tinged with a hint of concern.
Lloyd shook his head firmly, his gaze unwavering. "No. I made sure nobody knew about you," he reassured you, his tone laced with conviction.
"Good," you responded with a nod, a sense of relief washing over you at his words.
You clapped your hands softly, calling Choco who still lay his head on Lloyd's lap. The loyal dog obediently jumped from the bed to be beside you, his presence a comforting presence in the room.
Lloyd's gaze shifted to the dog, who had grown significantly since the last time he saw him. "He's bigger," he remarked, a hint of surprise in his voice.
"Staying out of town suits him," you replied, a faint smile playing at the corners of your lips as you remembered the countless arguments you and Lloyd had over the city life.
Lloyd nodded in understanding, a pang of guilt tugging at his conscience as he recalled the sacrifices you had made for him in the past.
You stood up, determination etched on your face. "I need to buy more medicine for you," you declared, your voice firm despite the underlying concern.
"Alright. And I'll be waiting for you," Lloyd replied, his tone filled with gratitude.
Before you left the room, you turned to him with a sense of urgency. "Your gun. It's inside the nightstand," you instructed, your words carrying a weight of responsibility.
Lloyd's eyes widened in surprise as he slowly maneuvered his body, wincing with each movement. With cautious hands, he opened the nightstand and discovered his gun, meticulously cleaned and reloaded, lying within.
In that moment, as he gazed at the weapon before him, he couldn't help but feel a surge of conflicting emotions. Despite the animosity that had defined their relationship, he couldn't deny the underlying care and concern that you still held for him.
And as you left the room, he couldn't help but wonder how someone could simultaneously hate and care for him so deeply. It was a paradox that he would never fully understand but one that he couldn't help but be grateful for in his darkest hour.
As Lloyd lay back on the bed and closed his eyes, a sense of profound gratitude washed over him. Despite the perilous path he had tread, he couldn't help but feel incredibly fortunate to be alive, to have been granted a second chance at life, and to have crossed paths with you once again.
In that fleeting moment of introspection, he couldn't help but wonder about the path not taken.
What if the two of you hadn't parted ways?
Would he have found solace and happiness in your embrace, surrounded by the warmth of your love and the companionship of Choco?
The thought lingered in his mind, a bittersweet reminder of his choices and the consequences that had ensued.
Perhaps things would have been different in another reality or in another lifetime. Perhaps he would have found the peace and contentment he desperately sought in your arms.
But as the painkiller coursed through his veins, enveloping him in a blanket of warmth and drowsiness. Exhausted, he succumbed to the pull of sleep once more.
🗡️
Lloyd stirred from his slumber, awakened not by pain but by the gnawing ache of hunger that clawed at his stomach. Slowly, he sat up, testing the limits of his body and finding that the pain had subsided to a dull ache.
With cautious movements, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, wincing slightly as he eased himself into a sitting position. Gradually, he rose to his feet, testing his weight on unsteady legs until he found his balance.
As he ventured out of the room, his gaze wandered around the house, taking in the familiar furnishings and décor that adorned the space. It felt strangely comforting, like stepping into a memory from his past.
His eyes drifted to the photographs that adorned the walls, capturing moments of joy and laughter frozen in time. Each image seemed to tell a story, a testament to the life you had built for yourself after leaving him behind.
With a heavy sigh, he questioned the purpose of his existence and the futility of clinging to a past that no longer held any promise. What was the benefit of wallowing in self-pity, of longing for a life that could never be reclaimed?
As Lloyd made his way to the kitchen, he was greeted by a home-cooked meal waiting for him, prepared with care and accompanied by a note instructing him to simply microwave it.
When was the last time someone had gone to such lengths to provide him with a warm, comforting meal?
The question lingered in his mind as he heated the food and began to eat, savoring each bite as if it were a taste of long-forgotten bliss.
After finishing the last bite of food, Lloyd washed it down with a sip of water, his expression shifting from relaxed to serious as he surveyed the now-empty plates before him.
"At least you let me eat first," he murmured under his breath, a hint of resignation in his voice.
'Click.'
The sound of the gun echoed throughout the house, piercing the stillness of the moment. In the reflection of the fridge, Lloyd caught sight of Carmichael and Susan, their guns trained on him with steely determination.
With a wry smirk, Lloyd raised his hands in surrender, his gaze steady as he met their accusing stares.
"Really? You still have the confidence?" Susan's voice dripped with disdain, her finger twitching on the trigger.
Carmichael's voice was cold and calculating as he spoke, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Of all places, you choose to hide here?"
Lloyd's casual shrug belied the tension that hung in the air as Susan's voice cut through the silence once more. "You need to come with us," she demanded, her tone clipped and authoritative.
Lloyd's response was equally defiant. "What if I don't want to?" he challenged, his gaze locking with Carmichael's as he awaited their next move.
Carmichael's response was swift and to the point. "You have no backup," he stated matter-of-factly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Lloyd's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the revelation. "Really?" he quipped, a hint of skepticism.
Unable to contain her frustration any longer, Susan lashed out at Lloyd, her voice dripping with venom. "I'm going to laugh when you rot in jail—"
But before she could finish her sentence, she was interrupted by a sudden gust of wind that sliced through her left ear, followed by a searing pain that engulfed her cheeks and ears.
"Fuck," she cursed, her hand instinctively flying to her injured ear as she recoiled from the unexpected assault.
As Susan dropped to the ground, the suddenness of her descent caught everyone off guard. Carmichael's attention snapped to the shattered window, his instincts kicking in as he processed the situation instantly.
"A sniper," he concluded, his voice tense with urgency as he scanned the perimeter for any signs of danger.
Susan, still reeling from the shock of the attack, struggled to comprehend what had just transpired. "But how?" she gasped, her voice tinged with disbelief as she tried to make sense of the chaos around them.
Lloyd's smirk widened as he watched the realization dawn on Susan and Carmichael's faces. "Don't underestimate the owner of this house," he cautioned, his gaze flicking towards the framed photos on the wall.
Susan and Carmichael's eyes fell upon a woman adorned with a gold medal, the insignia of an Olympic shooting competition adorning the frame.
"Shit," they both muttered simultaneously, a sense of dread settling over them as they realized the gravity of their situation.
Carmichael turned to Lloyd, his disbelief palpable. "Her? You and her? Impossible," he exclaimed, his voice tinged with shock and skepticism.
But Lloyd's smirk remained, a silent testament to the unexpected ally that had come to his aid in his moment of need.
The contrast between you and Lloyd couldn't have been more stark, yet fate had a curious way of bringing opposites together. While you had earned your place at Harvard through your exceptional skill in shooting, Lloyd's prowess on the football field had secured his admission.
In the law class, the tension between you two was palpable, your conflicting personalities clashing like water and fire. Your debates were heated, your arguments fierce, yet beneath the surface, there lingered a begrudging respect for each other's abilities.
Despite the animosity that simmered between you, there was an unspoken understanding that if one of you needed help, the other would be there to lend a hand. It was a reluctant partnership born out of necessity, fueled by a mutual desire to succeed in a cutthroat environment.
As the years passed, the animosity softened into something resembling camaraderie, a grudging acknowledgment of the role you each played in the other's life.
In the end, despite your differences, you and Lloyd were bound together by a shared journey that neither of you could have predicted.
Lloyd raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, his words laced with a mix of astonishment and resignation. "We're divorced, but still she cares for me," he remarked, a hint of disbelief coloring his tone.
'Bang.'
Another bullet pierced the air, embedding itself in the sofa with a resounding thud.
"Shit. She's going to blame me for this," Lloyd muttered under his breath, his expression clouded with frustration.
Susan's regret swelled within her, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach as she realized the gravity of their oversight. "Just kill him," she spat out, her voice tinged with desperation.
But Carmichael's voice cut through the chaos, his words ringing with authority. "No, the order is to bring him in alive," he declared, his tone unwavering in its resolve.
Lloyd, caught in the crossfire of their conflicting agendas, couldn't help but interject with a hint of sarcasm. "Stop fighting over me. I prefer to stay here," he quipped, a wry smile playing at the corners of his lips despite the gravity of the situation.
Susan's hand trembled as she pointed the gun at Lloyd's forehead, her eyes blazing with a vengeful fury. "I've been waiting for this," she seethed, her voice laced with venom. "This time I'll blow your head off."
But before Susan could carry out her threat, she was overcome by a searing pain that radiated through her hand, causing her to cry out in agony.
'Bang.'
Another shot rang out, the bullet tearing through Susan's hand with brutal force, eliciting a guttural scream of pain from her lips.
As the smoke cleared, you appeared before them, armed and prepared, your presence commanding and formidable. Carmichael and Susan paled at the sight of you, realizing with dawning horror that they were outmatched and outgunned.
"You bring unnecessary problems, Lloyd," you stated coolly, your voice hinting at disappointment.
With guns and spare bullets adorning your body, you stood as a formidable barrier between them and your ex-husband, ready to protect him at any cost.
With a steely resolve, you stepped forward, your gaze unwavering as you assessed the situation before you. Despite the chaos and tension that hung in the air, you remained calm and composed, your mind calculating the best course of action to diffuse the volatile situation.
"Susan, Carmichael," you began, your voice firm but measured, "you have overstayed your welcome. It's time for you to leave."
Susan's hand throbbed with pain, her grip on the gun loosening as she recoiled from the intensity of the burn. Carmichael's expression was shock and disbelief, realizing their attempt to apprehend Lloyd had backfired spectacularly.
But you weren't interested in vengeance or retribution. Instead, you sought a peaceful resolution, one that would ensure the safety of everyone involved.
With a swift and decisive motion, you disarmed Susan and Carmichael, carefully removing their weapons and rendering them harmless. Despite their protests and threats, you remained steadfast, refusing to be swayed by their desperate pleas.
You held their gaze steadily, your voice unwavering as you addressed Susan and Carmichael. "I'm sure neither of you wants to die today. Just as I don't want Lloyd to die," you asserted, your tone firm but not without empathy.
Susan's eyes widened in realization, the gravity of the situation sinking in as she glanced between you and Lloyd. Carmichael's expression hardened, his jaw clenched in silent acknowledgment of the truth in your words.
Lloyd's smirk widened into a knowing smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he caught your subtle reference.
"Since he has to clean up the house first," you added with a playful wink, a hint of humor creeping into your tone.
Lloyd's smile broadened at your jest, a sense of relief washing over him as he realized you had everything under control.
"Leave," you commanded, your voice brooking no argument. "And don't ever come back."
Reluctantly, Susan and Charmichael complied, their defeat evident in their defeated expressions as they slunk away, their tails between their legs.
As Charmichael and Susan begrudgingly exited the premises, leaving behind a trail of tension in their wake. "You always manage to find trouble, don't you?" you remarked, a hint of exasperation in your tone.
Lloyd turned to you with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. He placed a comforting arm on your shoulder, seeking reassurance in the midst of uncertainty.
"No matter what, you still care for me, right?" he questioned, his voice tinged with vulnerability.
You met his gaze with a small, enigmatic smile playing at the corners of your lips. "In your dreams," you replied cryptically, words laced with affection and defiance.
With a swift motion, you brushed aside the sentimentality, your expression hardening as you turned away from him.
Lloyd watched you go, his arms crossed over his chest as he contemplated your retreating figure. Despite your dismissive words, he couldn't shake the feeling that beneath your tough exterior, there still lay a flicker of concern for him.
'Woof.'
The sound of Choco's bark brought Lloyd back to the present, the loyal dog appearing at his side with a comforting presence. Lloyd reached down to pet the dog's head, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Your mother is still a bad liar," he remarked with a chuckle.
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502 notes · View notes
witchywithwhiskey · 4 months
Note
Lloyd + 61. “did you really think that would work? cute”
cooped up on a nice spring day
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pairing: husband!lloyd hansen x female reader
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, choking, light bdsm, bratting, begging, teasing, dirty talk, light degradation, praise kink, referenced oral sex (f receiving), pet names (it's lloyd so there's a bunch), established relationship, fluff
word count: 1,800ish
a/n: thank you for sending in this prompt Eva!!! and it's so perfect for Lloyd!! i had a lot of fun writing this one—it has probably the brattiest reader i've written so far, so i hope you enjoy!!! ♡♡
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The view outside your husband’s office was beautiful in the spring—in fact, the garden was one of the reasons you’d fallen in love with the house and why Lloyd Hansen had bought it for you. There were so many flowering trees and so much flourishing greenery that you felt like you could stare at it all for hours while Lloyd worked.
And, in fact, that’s exactly what you’d been doing on that particular spring day. Lloyd had even opened the window so you could feel the warm spring breeze against your cheeks and smell the sweet perfume of the lilacs and honeysuckle from the garden. It was a beautiful day and you hoped Lloyd would finish working soon so you could go outside and enjoy the sunshine together.
It had been your intention when you’d strolled into Lloyd’s office in one of your pretty sundresses to entice your husband to go for a walk in the garden with you. You’d had designs about packing a picnic and spreading out a blanket beneath one of the leafy trees to spend the afternoon together. But Lloyd had insisted he couldn’t be pulled away from work—though that hadn’t stopped him from pulling you into his lap.
One thing had led to another and your plan to coax him out of his office had been foiled when he’d talked you into straddling his lap and keeping his cock warm while he worked. With the window open, it had seemed like the perfect compromise. After all, you loved being connected to your husband in such an intimate way, and with you able to stare out the window behind his desk, you’d been content.
For a while.
But your hips ached a little from sitting in the same position for so long, and your body was growing restless from having Lloyd’s perfect cock buried inside you for so many hours without anything in the way of satisfaction. But every time you moved your hips even a little bit, even to readjust yourself, Lloyd’s hand would press firmly against your lower back and he’d urge you to keep still. 
You tried to be good, you really did, but the sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon and you could feel the beautiful spring day slipping through your fingers, along with all your plans to enjoy it with your husband. A whine worked its way up your throat and you couldn’t bear to bite it back. 
“Lloyd, please, can’t we go outside for a little while,” you begged, your arms circling around his shoulders and squeezing him tight while you tried, and failed, to keep your hips from rocking in lazy circles. “You can work later.” Your last word came out on a whimper as you felt the delicious drag of his cock against your inner walls, a shiver racing down your spine.
“Just a little while longer, pet,” Lloyd rumbled distractedly, pressing his hand against your lower back and urging you to still your rolling hips. “You can be a good girl for your husband, can’t you?” He offered you a sly smile as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.
Huffing an impatient sigh, you let him stop your movements, muttering, “That’s what you said an hour ago.” If you sounded petulant, that’s because you were. You didn’t even try to hide your mood from your husband, who seemed content with ignoring his wife’s needs. 
As if Lloyd could read your mind, he gripped the back of your neck and towed you away from where you’d been draped against his chest so he could look you straight in the eye. “If you give me a few more minutes of peace and quiet, I promise we’ll spend the rest of the afternoon outside,” he said, his tone patient.
But you discovered in that moment that you were all out of patience of your own. You shot Lloyd a glare before you ducked forward and nipped his ear sharply with your teeth, using your cunt to squeeze his cock as hard as your inner muscles could, wringing a grunt from your husband. 
“I want to go outside now,” you hissed in his ear, knowing exactly what you were doing and knowing it was going to get a rise out of Lloyd. But that was exactly what you wanted.
Lloyd’s hand slipped easily from the back of your neck to the wrap around the front, his thumb and middle finger digging into your throat just beneath the cut of your jaw. He pushed you back enough so you could feel the full weight of his glower, but you only scowled at him harder.
“Did you really think that would work?” he asked, tilting his head to the side while he looked down at you. But you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel worried about the dangerous thread in his tone, not when your husband’s attention was finally fully on you. “Cute.” 
Then Lloyd was pushing you up by his grip on your throat, rising to stand with a dark look on his face that sent a shiver down your spine. You whimpered when you lifted off his cock, your body feeling unimaginably empty without him inside you, but your husband only snarled at your pitiful sound.
“You wanna go outside? We’ll go outside,” Lloyd muttered, spinning you around and bending you over the sill of the window behind his desk. It didn’t have a screen so your upper body hung out the back of the house, only your husband’s hand holding you around your throat preventing you from tumbling out into the garden. “How’s this, princess, is this outside enough for you?” Lloyd growled in your ear, curling his body over yours and pinning you to the sill.
But it wasn’t enough for you, not when your cunt was leaking with arousal and your inner walls were fluttering pathetically around nothing. “Need you inside me, husband,” you gasped out, squirming your hips beneath Lloyd’s bigger frame, like you could somehow find the tip of him and force him to drive his full length home.
“First you demand I take you outside, then you demand I be inside you,” Lloyd rumbled, his tone mean in that way that made your whole body clench and pleasure to flood your mind. “You’re needy today aren’t you, cupcake?” he asked mockingly, his free hand reaching between your bodies to grip his dick and slide the head through your soaking folds. 
You went weak and pliant beneath Lloyd when you were so close to getting what you wanted, your lips forming the first desperate words you could manage. “Yes, yes, so needy for your cock, husband, please give it to me, please, I need you to fuck me, oh god, Lloyd, please!”
With one furious thrust, Lloyd buried the full length of his cock deep in your cunt, the tip ramming against the end of you so hard that you shrieked in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Lloyd’s hand tightened around your throat, choking off the loudest of your sounds of pleasure while he curled over your body, his chest pressing to your back, his cock grinding deep in your cunt in a way that made your toes curl. 
“Good girl, angel, sound so sweet begging for your husband’s dick,” Lloyd rumbled, his free hand gripping your hip tightly while he pounded into you with short, deep thrusts, his thighs clapping against the backs of yours. “You didn’t need to be such a brat to get me to fuck you, just needed to beg for me.”
You were too far gone with pleasure to respond, but it occurred to you that Lloyd fucking you through the open window of his office was much better than the lazy picnic sex you’d envisioned for the afternoon. Glancing through the garden, you knew if anyone was around, they’d see the obscene tableau you painted, your husband fucking you over the windowsill, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when the brutal thrusting of Lloyd’s cock felt so exquisite, your cunt clenching down on him as your pleasure grew.
“Fuck, fuck, buttercup, your cunt feels too good, you’re gonna make me come,” Lloyd groaned, his teeth sinking into your shoulder while his hand slipped between your thighs, finding your wet, slippery clit. “Come on your husband’s cock, wife, show me what a good girl you can be with my dick buried deep in this pussy.”
Your orgasm hit you with the suddenness of a champagne cork popping, leaving you awash in wave after wave of dazzling pleasure. A scream tore free from your throat before your husband cut it off with his choking grip. Your body tightened beneath Lloyd, your cunt gripping his cock so hard, it set off his own release. He rutted into you, muttering about your perfect cunt and how you were so good for coming on his cock. 
Together, you rode out your releases together, your bodies writhing against the windowsill until you were both finally sated.
Carefully, Lloyd helped you back inside, and he collapsed into his office chair, his arm banded around your waist pulling you down into his lap and keeping you connected. You leaned heavily back against his chest, your body feeling boneless from pleasure, a satisfied smile curling your lips. 
Lloyd pressed a kiss to your cheek, the bristles of his mustache tickling your skin gently and making you giggle softly.
“Will you be a good girl and let me finish my work now?” he asked in a low, delicious rumble. 
You stretched out your arms and legs, your spine curving and pushing your chest out so Lloyd could see the way your nipples poked against the thin cotton of your sundress. Grinning like the cat that got the cream, you relaxed back into Lloyd’s lap, humming in contentment. 
“I think I can manage for a little while, husband,” you purred, but you tilted your head and caught his eye. “But only for a little while.” There was a warning in your tone that made Lloyd chuckle. 
“I wouldn’t dream of keeping you cooped up on such a nice spring day, wife,” Lloyd murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “At least, not for much longer.” 
True to his word, Lloyd finished his work soon after and, together, the two of you went out into the gardens for a late lunch. You ate the food you’d prepared for the picnic you’d planned, and then Lloyd settled between your thighs to devour you for dessert. 
You laid back on your picnic blanket beneath a shady tree in the garden of your home and let your husband worship your body. After all, it was what you deserved for being such a good wife, and his good girl, while he’d kept you cooped up for so much of the nice spring day.
720 notes · View notes
buckys-wintersoldier · 5 months
Text
Just one kiss | Lloyd Hansen
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// Pairing //
-> DrugDealer!Lloyd Hansen x Innocent!Virgin!Female!Reader
// Summary //
-> Your best friend — Ransom Drysdale — asks you to buy special pills for him. You don’t know what he means and you didn’t know that the dealer isn’t like Ransom described the man.
// Wordcount //
-> 4.586 Words
// Warnings // Explicit Content
-> 18+, Minors DNI, dark content, Ransom is a dick, innocent!Reader (really innocent!), talking about drugs, manipulation, non/dub-con, Lloyd being Lloyd, blackmail, innocence kink, daddy kink, handjob, oral (male!receiving), cumming on the face, cum play, finger sucking, degrading, praises
// Authors Note //
-> I want to thank @bucks-babe for all those comments and for proofreading.
-> Written for the “Cum Together: A Community Revival Extravaganza” Event hosted by @labella420 and @stargazingfangirl18.
Prompt: Blackmail + Cum play + “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it.”
// Masterlist | Lloyd Hansen Masterlist //
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     “Come one, please! He is so nice and I just ask you for that favor. Best friends do that for their best friends, princess,” Ransom says, pouting slightly when you still look unsure about his ask.
     You play with your fingers, sliding them over the short pink skirt you’re wearing because your best friend asked you to do so. Aren’t you already a good best friend because you always wear what Ransom asks you to wear?
     “Ransom, I—I don’t know. I’ve never bought something from him. And m—my parents always say to not get too close to him — to Lloyd Hansen,” you say, his name only a whisper afraid that someone could hear you.
     “Princess, I wouldn’t ask when it wouldn’t really mean something to me,” he says, his hand finds its place on your bare thigh and you shiver slightly under his soft touch. “I will give you the money, please.”
     “Why don’t you go there yourself?” You ask, looking at him suspiciously. He chuckles, his fingers dig into your soft skin and you hiss softly about his sudden roughness.
     “Lloyd and I, uhm, we had some differences in the past and he told me to piss off,” Ransom confesses, scratching the back of his neck.
     It wasn't a lie, Lloyd doesn’t really like Ransom but the actual reason he wants you to go there is because sweet, innocent girls like you get better offers than Ransom would get.
     “Don’t you love me, princess?” Your best friend asks, his smile fades away and he tilts his head down, avoiding your gaze. He also removes his hand from your thigh, causing your heart to ache. You don’t like to offend your best friend, especially not to make him sad just because of something he asks you to buy.
     “I do love you, Ran,” you mumble, moving closer to capture his cheeks with your hands. You lift his head so he has to look into your eyes and then you kiss his nose, smirking when he does. “I will buy it for you, what do you want me to buy?”
     “Some special pills. Nothing big, just tell him that you want a small bag of special pills, then Lloyd knows what you ask for, princess,” Ransom says, his grin back on his lips. You nod, letting go of his cheeks and crawl into his lap, cuddling into him, while he wraps his arms around your small body and pulls you closer.
     You’re such a good girl for him, he loves how innocent you are — his sweet girl would do everything he asks for when he just plays the right cards. He loves it, his dick loves your innocence not less. It’s growing and throbbing in his pants while you cuddle you cuddle yourself into his tall, muscular body.
     “Ran! You forgot your keys in your pocket!” You complain, rolling your eyes playfully. Ransom laughs, pulling you even closer and leans down to your ear.
     “That’s not my key, princess. That’s my cock,” he mumbles, causing your eyes to widen and shift slightly. No matter where you try to sit you have his cock point into your ass or back.
     Every slight movement on his lap makes Ransom groan and his dick growing even more. “Why isn’t it moving to the side?”
     Fuck! Your innocence makes him go crazy and he just wants to destroy your little pussy, wants to fill you with his cum and make you come and scream over his cock over and over again. Tears would stream down your cheeks but you would beg for more and he would gladly give it to you, fucking you until you’re nothing but a whimpering mess underneath him.
     “Don’t you know what that is? My cock.” He asks, raising his eyebrow when you shake your head ashamed. Ransom smirks even wider, his fingers draw small circles on your back, grinning you over his hard cock. “I will explain it to you at some point but first you go to Lloyd and buy what I asked you to buy.”
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     Ransom brought you to Lloyd’s house, even when it’s more like a mansion. A cold shiver runs along your spine when Ransom lets you step out of the car, hurrying you to finally drive to a park slot on the side.
     “What happened between you and Lloyd actually, why doesn't he want you to buy something?” You ask innocently while you don’t make a move to get out of the car.
     Sweat is running his face down when he looks in all directions. Would Lloyd see him near his mansion he would probably torture him until he begs for forgiveness. “I— uhm. I accidentally shot him in his ass.”
     You giggle, then you get out of the car and wave with a soft smile at Ransom before you make your way along the path to the big building. Your hands start to sweat and you press them against the skirt as an attempt to cover more of your bare legs.
     Lloyd watches you already from the window, his tongue slides over his lips, while he smirks. So innocent. He groans quietly, turning around to make his way to a chair in the middle of the room. He fucking loves to see those girls all sweet standing there and asking him nicely and cute for some special pills — going to parties with them but you? You look so different, so innocent, so untouched.
     His dick is growing when he’s deepening his thoughts about what he could do with you, letting you twirl for him, lifting your skirt. He wants to see you, all of you — you’re so different to all these other girls.
     But his thoughts get interrupted when someone is knocking at the door, when he growls a low ‘yes’ you open the door and look at him. His hair is slicked back, mustache and white pants with a shirt — exactly how everyone describes him. He smirks at you, leaning back in his chair, his legs spread open and his hands resting on his thighs.
     “Come in, little one,” he tells you. His eyes are roaming over your body and you want to make yourself even smaller. With a short movement you close the door behind you and walk further toward him.
     “H—Hi,” you mumble, looking down, your shoes suddenly the most interesting thing you have ever seen. The creaking noise of the chair makes your eyes widen, hearing him walking closer to you, your body tenses and a quiet whimper leaves your lips.
      “What can I do for such a sweet girl like you?” He sounds nice, not like your parents told you. His hand grasps your chin, tilting your head back so you have to look into his eyes, he is grinning down at you, while he leans closer and there are only inches between your faces.
     “I— My best friend — Ransom. H—He wants me to buy some special pills for him,” you explain, body trembling under the intense gaze of the older man. Lloyd smirks, his hands finding their way to your hips and he pulls you flat against his muscular chest.
     “Mhm, Ransom?” He asks, knowing exactly who he is. When you nod, his grin widens and he pulls you with him closer to the chair. You’re too focused not to just turn around and run out of the building so you don’t really realize that Lloyd leads you to the chair where he lets himself fall down and holds you still between his thick, muscular thighs. “Are you his girl, little one?”
     “N—No, he is my best friend,” you mumble, looking at your hands. Even though Lloyds hands are warm and his grip is firm, you still feel uncomfortable there. The building is so big, there aren’t many people you have seen and the owner of that mansion is holding you just inches away from him by your hips.
     “You’re his best friend, know your parents. Strict ones, do they know that their pretty girl is visiting me here? Do your parents know you’re here, little one?” He asks, and you shake your head slowly.
     Your parents would never allow you to visit Lloyd Hansen, he is famous — famous for drugs and illegal things. “Please, don’t tell them. You won’t tell them, right?”
     “Mhm— but you need to give me something for that then, can you do this?” His voice is soft and the smile on his face widens. He pulls you onto his thigh, moving your hips slowly forward and backward before he stops and lifts his one hand to grasp your chin once again. He tilts your head up, looking straight into your eyes and you feel like he can look into your soul.
     “Do you want more money?” You ask, so innocently that his dick is hurting while it presses against the fabric of his white pants.
     “No, can you give me something else?” He asks, fingers digging into your waist while he holds your chin still with his other hand to look into your eyes. His cock twitches when you whimper softly, thinking about something you could offer him.
    “W—What do you want to have?” His grin widens, when it's even possible. He just waited for you to ask that unless you tell him what he wants to hear. But since you’re just as innocent as you look he is glad you asked him what he would like to have so he won’t tell your parents about your little visit in the Hansen mansion.
     “Kiss me,” he mumbles, leaning back while he lets go of your chin and places that hand on your waist as well. Your eyes widen and you whimper, shaking your head.
     “Please, I—I never kissed someone, not even sure how that works. C—Can I just give you more money?” You try but he just ignores your attempts to convince him to give him something else.
     “Little one, I’m rich. I don’t need what you offer me. You have two opportunities. First; you give me what I want. Second; I take what I want,” he explains, grinding you on his thigh. A tingling feeling erupts between your legs and you try to press them together causing Lloyd to chuckle darkly. “I always get what I want, pretty girl. And look how needy you are, clenching your tights like a desperate slut.”
     “I’m not a slut!” You raise your eyebrow until his grip tightens and you immediately blush. You don’t want to upset him, scared of him. Your body still trembles slightly but the pressure between your legs grows especially when he just holds you, instead of grinding you on his thigh to give you some relief.
     “I know, you’re a pretty innocent girl.” He sits up, straight and your lips are suddenly so close that you can feel his warm breath on your skin. Lloyd groans when you move closer against him, your pussy rubbing over his hard cock and your eyes widen.
     “I—Is that also your cock? R—Ransoms was hard too earlier,” you tell him, looking down where you just feel his hard bulge pressing against you. A low chuckle leaves his lips, causing you to look into his eyes again.
     “That’s my cock, when you kiss me already you can see it. Do you want to see it?” You nod slightly, and he feels his cock twitch once again. Your innocence makes him go crazy, you’re on his lap, willing to kiss him so he won’t tell your parents that you are visiting him. And willing so you can see his throbbing cock.
     Even when you would have said no, he already knew the kiss isn’t everything he wants from you. When such a sweet and innocent girl walks into his mansion and makes his cock painfully hard and throbbing he will definitely use that to fuck you or at least have you suck off his cock.
     You lean slightly forward, you don’t know why but something changes inside of you and you feel comfortable around Lloyd and you really want to see his cock since Ransom wasn’t explaining it to you. So you press your lips softly against his, just a moment before you pull back and giggle softly.
         “Your mustache tickles, Mr. Hansen,” you say, reaching out your hand to slide your fingers over his mustache. You're so perfect for him, so innocent but still so confident when you feel comfortable. He is sure he won’t let you go that easy; you’re his now — his little one, Lloyd's pretty girl.
     “Was that a kiss, little one? Give Daddy a real kiss,” he asks, raising his eyebrow when you nod slowly. He laughs, capturing your cheeks with his hands and pulling you closer, his lips pressing on yours with such force that you gasp. You part your lips slightly, and Lloyd uses the moment to slip his tongue into your mouth, causing you to moan.
     You press him by his chest away, his cheeks heating up, and you look down at your lap. “I’m sorry, I—I didn’t want to moan.”
     “Ahh, pretty girl. Let me hear you moan again, yeah?” Before you can answer, he presses his lips against yours once again. His hands slide to your back and lower down until he grabs your ass, squeezing harshly and causing another moan to leave your lips.
     When he lets you pull away, you breathe heavily, your hands resting on his muscular chest while you look into his eyes. They are a little darker than before, filled with an emotion you have seen in Ransom's eyes sometimes — mostly when his hand slid up your leg underneath your skirt until you moved away from your best friend with a questioning look.
    Lloyd's hands are still capturing your cheeks. He smirks at you, his eyes roaming down your body to your chest, biting his lip before his gaze slides lower to your short skirt. “Do your parents know that you look like a little desperate slut with such short skirts?” 
     “N—No, Ransom asked me to wear it for him. Don’t you like it?” Lloyd chuckles, one hand making its way to your skirt, and he slips it underneath the fabric, stroking the soft skin of your thigh. He groans, his fingers moving closer to your panties, but you grasp his arm just before his fingertip is touching your pussy.
     “It looks pretty, little one. Now get up so I can show you my cock. What do you think?” He asks softly before pushing you off his lap. You immediately stand up and wait in front of him while he unbuckles his belt and lets his white pants fall down his thick, muscular thighs.
     In his boxers is a big bulge, and you guess that’s what he meant. What you didn’t think of was that he was going to push the fabric down as well. His weeping cock slaps against his stomach; the tip is red, and a vein is running along the underside of his huge length.
     “You can touch it, pretty girl.” You shake your head, just looking at his length, before you look him in the eyes again. “Do you want me to tell your parents that you’re going out in such a slutty outfit that you were sitting on my lap and kissing me?”
     “P—Please, don't tell them,” you say quietly, a small pout on your lips. Lloyd chuckles, leaning forward to kiss your lips, kissing the pout softly away. Then he places his pants between the two on the ground before he pushes you by your shoulders down until you’re on your knees, looking up at him with your innocent gaze.
     “Take it in your hand. Wrap your little fingers around Daddy's huge cock. Can you do that?” He asks so softly that you nod and lift your arms, placing one on his thick thigh.
      “But you’re not my daddy, Mr. Hansen,” you mumble, looking at him with your innocent and now slightly confused gaze.
     “I’m your daddy now, little one. I take care of you, don’t I?” When you slightly nod he grins wide and points at his hard, leaking cock. You bring your other hand to his cock and wrap your fingers around his hard cock.
     Lloyd groans, throwing his head back when your soft skin touches his cock. He then looks back down at you, waiting for you to move your hand, but you're just sitting there and staring at his cock in your hand. His dick twitches in your hand, more pre-cum leaking down his red tip when he thinks about everything he could do with you — taking your virginity and making you his — Lloyds Hansen’s pretty girl.
    “Move your hand, little one.” You look up; your eyes widen when he gives you more instructions. You thought he would let you go after you kissed him, so why does he want you to move your hand around his cock?
     “But you said only a kiss,” you mumble, your eyes watering — your emotions are overwhelming; you feel so embarrassed, but at the time, you don’t want Lloyd to tell your parents that you’re here. And his cock feels not bad in your hand either. He places his hand around yours, grip tightens while he moves your hand up and down his thick length.
     “Good girl,” Lloyd praises, his hand tightening even more around yours and his cock, while he picks up the pace. He groans, his hips thrusting up when you move your hand at a slow pace up and down his cock. “Doin’ so well, little on. Now let's try something else: open your mouth and take my dick into your mouth.
    “No, Mr. Hansen, please. I’ve never done that before; I—I don’t think I wanna do that,” you say, quietly and not looking up. Your grip around his cock loosens, and you place both of your hands on your thighs.
    “You don’t want to?” He asks, his voice dangerously sweet, and you shiver lightly. When you shake your head, he grasps your hair, tugging harshly at it and making you look at him. “I don't care; you're gonna suck my cock, or I will tell your parents that you begged me to fuck you, want that? Want your parents to know that you’re nothing but a little whore?”
     You don't really listen to him; your thoughts are running wild, and tears are building in your eyes, making their way slowly down your cheeks. Lloyd wipes his thumb over your cheeks to wipe the tears away; they just turn him on even more — he didn't know you could turn him on even more, but you do. His other hand is still tugging painfully at your hair.
    “Then be a good girl and do what Daddy asks for. Now take it in your mouth, or I will make you take it,” he groans, waiting a moment for you to move, but you just sit there, quietly crying and staring at his cock. Lloyd sighs, pushing your head closer to his cock and wrapping his own hand around his base. He brings his cock to your lips, smearing his pre-cum over them before he pushes his tip between your lips.
     “Come on, pretty girl,” he says, raising one of his eyebrows before he taps his hand softly on your cheek until you open your mouth wider and he is able to push his cock into your mouth.
    Lloyd doesn’t give you much time before he shoves his cock down your throat. You immediately gag around his length, your fingers digging into his thick thighs while he holds you in place for a moment. Your eyes water, and you try to pull away, but the older man’s grin is too tight for you to move away.
     “Fuck, pretty mouth feeling so good,” he growls, pulling out of you and giving you a moment to inhale deeply.
     “Please, don’t; it’s so big,” you whimper, trying to push him away from you. But at your next attempt to say something, he shoves his huge length into your mouth and down your throat again. Your teeth scratch along his soft skin, causing him to buck his hips forward.
     He pulls you off his cock, leaning forward until his face is next to yours. Lloyd is biting into your earlobe, causing you to yelp. “Open your mouth wider, like the good slut you are for me.”
     “B—But your cock is so big, Daddy,” you whimper, tears falling down your cheeks. When he pulls you back and smirks at you, causing you to be slightly scared — he looks so soft and at the same time something dark is glistening in his eyes and expression.
     “You will get used to it. Fuck— should keep you just for me; what do you think, little one?” He asks, chuckling when you try to shake your head. You open your mouth wider when he presses the tip of his cock against your lips. Lloyd shoves his cock into your mouth, smirking proudly when your teeth aren’t scratching against his huge dick. You’re once again gagging around his length; the tears are falling down your cheeks, and saliva is dripping down your mouth. “Daddy told you he gets what he wants. And when he wants to keep you, then he will! So be good and suck my dick and breathe through your nose.”
     Your nails dig almost painfully into the skin of his thigh, grounding yourself. When you breathe through your nose like he told you, you don’t gag that much around his cock anymore. He thrusts every now and then his hips, resting his dick in your mouth before he pulls out to give you a moment to breathe deeply.
     You look with such an innocent gaze at Lloyd that he feels like he has to come immediately. Your saliva drips down, landing on your thighs, while his whole cock is covered in it as well. Lloyd growls, fucking your mouth harshly, your tongue licking the underside of his cock, while you swallow his length down your throat — you’re the best and sweetest girl he could have imagined when you walked into his mansion earlier.
      He looks down at you, meeting your innocent eyes. You look adorable with his cock down your throat. “Taking my cock like the good girl you are for me, huh?”
     After a few more thrusts, he pushes out, and you look at him, confused. Maybe you did something wrong? “Did I do something wrong? Didn’t it feel good?”
   Suddenly, you just want to make him feel good; you want him to praise you — calling you his good girl, and give him what he is asking for.
     “You did so well for me, swallowing my cock like a good girl. But I wanna come all over your face — want to paint your face with my cum,” he tells you, smirking when you look even more confused. “Let Daddy take care of it."
     You nod, looking at his length, which is covered in your saliva when he wraps his hand around it. He then moves his hand at a steady pace, his hand wiping over his tip. It looks hot when he does that, panting and fucking his hand, his cock twitching, and he almost hits your face when he thrusts forward.
      His lips are parted, and the veins on his arm are poking out while he looks at you, groaning loudly. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out!”
      You do as he says and stick out your tongue. He grins at you, jerking himself off over your tongue. With a loud growl and a harsh thrust into his hand, he comes all over your face. His cum shoots out of his red tip, landing on your tongue and all over your face, while he fucks himself through the orgasm.
     “Looking so sexy with my cum all over your pretty face, pretty girl,” he says, letting go of his cock and reaching out to graze his fingers with his cum. He then brings them to your mouth and pushes them between your lips. “Lick them clean.”
     You twirl your tongue around his fingers, cleaning his fingers and tasting his salty cum. You hum satisfied, addicted to his taste.
     “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it,” he says, fingers still in your mouth, pushing your tongue down. He then removes them and grazes them in his cum once again, this time he licks then cleans himself, tongue curling around his digits. His other hand grasps your chin, his thumb pushing into your mouth and you immediately suck at it. “So good for Daddy, huh? I should give you a reward, don’t you think?”
     Your eyes widen and you nod, not exactly knowing what he means, but it doesn’t sound bad. And even though he can be a bit rough sometimes, he is still really nice and sweet with you.
     “Get up, so I can pick you up and we can continue in my bedroom,” he says softly, and you immediately obey. When you stand in front of him, he leans down, pressing his lips softly against yours before he picks you up. His hands rest underneath your ass, squeezing your cheeks while he walks out of the room.
     “B—But Ransom is waiting for me outside in the car,” you mumble, pulling away from Lloyd to look into his beautiful blue eyes. You haven’t recognized the bit of green in them, but it looks beautiful, and you get lost in them for a moment.
     Lloyd smirks. One of his hands lets go of you, but you hold yourself with your legs wrapped around his waist. He looks for his phone, which is placed on a small shelf. He takes it and unlocks it. Lloyd taps a few times on his phone before you hear the familiar sound when you call someone.
     “Princess?” Ransom's voice comes through the loudspeaker. You giggle, placing your head on his shoulder while you wrap your arms around his neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent.
     “Not exactly, but she is here. She is fine. Calm down. I will take care of my pretty girl, won’t I, little one?” Lloyd says, chuckling, before he squeezes your ass once again. You giggle, making Ransom gasp. “Brought me such a sweet and innocent girl; I guess I will keep her here. Make her my Mrs. Hansen.”
     Before Ransom can say something, Lloyd hangs up and places his phone on the nightstand next to his bed. You haven’t noticed that you’re already in his room, but you smirk when he places you on his bed, kissing your lips before he moves down to your neck. He is sucking and biting softly on your sensitive skin.
     “Now let’s get you out of your clothes and show Daddy your pretty body, all mine. Understand, you’re mine, pretty girl,” he says, looking at you. You pull him closer, pressing your lips against his, and let his tongue explore your mouth while his hands roam over your body, causing a tingling in your pussy. He grins, already thinking about the way he will claim you and make you his — his pretty girl.
     He really likes you, falling slowly for you — your sweetness and innocence steal his heart from him, and he gladly gives it to you. Even though he isn’t used to take care of someone he just fucked but he gladly takes care of his pretty girl.
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Text
The Quiet Ones 1
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.
Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader
Note: don't ask me why I did this.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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You keep to yourself. That’s the safest, the easiest way to live. You keep your head down, your eyes to yourself, your voice bottled up. 
You grip your phone as you approach the coffee shop. You stand on your toes to see through the painted windows and frown at the long queue. You won’t have to worry about that. Like everything else social, you’ve found a work around. 
You look at your phone, the app showing your order as ‘preparing’. It should be done shortly as the progress bar fills close to complete. You can bear the claustrophobia for a minute or so until it’s ready. 
You go to open the door but an arm reaches past you and does that first. You step back, patiently waiting for the other customer to precede you. They don’t move. You stare at their shoes. Dark blue velvet loafers with gold emblems on chains.  
“Go on, baby face, I got it,” the man’s voice makes your skin crawl. 
You shrink down and give a nod, throat clenching as you struggle to find your voice. You’re not much for conversation but you’re but impolite. 
“Thanks,” you force out without raising your head. 
You scurry through quickly, a bit to close to the stranger than you like, and you clasp your phone against your chest as you stand just away from the cluster of people awaiting their orders. You bounce on your feet as the noises join together to form a cacophony; the hissing steam, the clanging metal, the clinking porcelain, the calls of the workers behind the counter, and the buzz of the crowd seated or standing around the cafe. Sweat gathers on the nape of your neck as the chaos swirls a storm around you. 
You pull your phone away from the front of your pullover and check the screen. Should be ready any moment and you’ll be free of the circus. You adjust your grip on the phone, almost jittery as another customer joins the wait at the pick up window. 
You breathe out. It’s not usually this busy at this time. You have a routine. You can handle the expected. You order on your phone so you don’t need to talk to anyone. You wait outside until it’s almost done then come in too quickly claim your prize. But not today, something’s different and it’s throwing everything off. 
It’s only on Wednesday’s that you venture down to the cafe. It’s the halfway point of your week so you mark it with a taste of motivation. The same order every week. A London fog latte. Simple and affordable. Nothing fancy, nothing complicated. 
Your name cuts through the din, “...medium London fog.” 
You drop your arm to your side and set your shoulders. You march forward through the parting bodies ahead of you and reach for the cup. Before you can grasp it, someone else scoops it up. You nearly cry out in horror. Someone’s stealing your order! 
You turn to the tea thief but they make no move to flee. They hold the cup nonchalantly, turning it to read the sticker on the side, reciting the same name that just rose from the barista’s lips seconds ago. You face the stranger but again, your eyes are downward.
The blue loafers! 
“Cute name,” he comments as he holds the cup out. 
You once more try to take the cup but before you can, he has it out of reach again. Your lashes flick and your fingers twiddle helplessly. His large hand is firmly around the cup so even if you did try to wrestle it from him, you doubt you’d have any hope but to spill it all. 
You look around but no one else seems to notice. They’re all staring at their phones or talking with the person next to them. The staff behind the counter are too busy appeasing the rush of orders. 
“I’ve never tried one of these,” he taunts, “I’m more of a ristretto guy. Like my espresso.” 
You shake your head and rescind your hand, balling it against your fist. What does he want? Why is he bothering you? You said thank you. Did he not hear you? 
“Don’t get yourself in a tizzy,” he pushes the tea towards you, “there you are, sweat pea.” 
You hesitate. You slowly unfurl your fingers and reach for the cup. As you wrap your fingers around it, you can’t help but brush his. Thick and strong and unmoving. He clings to it for just a moment before he lets you have it. 
“Thanks,” you squeak again, this time louder so he certainly hears you. 
“You got a sweet voice,” he puts his hand on his hip, a glimpse of a shiny gold watch face peeking out from beneath his sleeve, “I’d love to hear more of it.” 
Your eyes round as you focus on the zipper of his thin jacket. You shake your head and meekly raise your cup awkwardly and dip your chin slightly. No thanks. 
You turn and weave your way back through the crowd. Your heart is thumping in your chest. What an odd encounter. 
More so, you’re dismayed that he saw you. That he noticed you. For years, you’ve done your best to be invisible. You prefer it that way. You don’t even think your neighbours know you exist. But that man, he seemed to see nothing but you. 
You push outside and nearly drop your cup. You try to steady yourself. You’re all knotted up and tense. You tuck your phone into your back pocket and bring the cup before you nose, inhaling the sweet scent of the foam. Something about it isn’t as soothing as usual. 
You turn down the pavement and wince as a sole scuffs close behind you. Suddenly, another set of steps walk next to yours, measured to keep in tandem with your own short legs. Blue velvet.  
You walk faster. Is he following you? Why? What does he want? He’s much taller, you can’t outpace him. 
“You know, when I said I’d like to hear more, I thought maybe over a coffee?” He suggests. 
You don’t say a word as you keep your eyes forward, squeezing your cup tight as you try not to swish it around too much. You’ve never had to deal with this before. Men don’t see you. There was a time you hated that but since, you were grateful for that. 
“I mean, I could do most of the talking, never had much of a trouble with that, jellybean,” he offers. 
You shake your head. Your throat tightens. You can’t speak. You want to scream but you can’t make a noise. 
As you get to the corner, you stop short. He steps past you but just as quickly catches himself and turns to face you. You gulp and look down at your cup. You can’t keep going. If you do, you’ll lead him right to your home. 
“What’s going on, sweetheart? You forget something? How about we head back and I’ll buy you something sugary to go with that?” 
You furrow your brow and step back on your heel. You bring your eyes up, a furtive glance at his face, brief and flickering. You just want to know what he looks like so you never see him again. 
His blue eyes twinkle, his nose is long but proportioned to his chiseled face, his hair is combed back, the sides shaved, and a thick swatch of hair lines his upper lip. He’s older than you, you know that much, but you’ve never good at gauging age. You’ve never seen him before but you can’t be sure. You don’t look at many faces. 
You pivot and cross the street without looking. You narrowly miss a bumper and get a honk in remonstrance. You can’t stop yourself. You’re panicking. You head down the next street as his footsteps follow. It’s all you can hear.  
As you pass a bin, you dump the drink. You don’t pause as it plummets heavily into the trash and you fall into a brisk half-jog. You pump your arms, puffing wildly, dizzy as you search for a saviour.  
You dash into the library. You don’t know what you’re looking for. Just for anyone to get this man to leave you alone. 
You don’t look back as you enter and head straight for the front counter. You’re out of breath as you approach the rounded edge and tap the bell frantically. A woman emerges from behind the window wall and she greets you with a confused chime. 
“Hello, can I help you?” She asks. 
“Yes, I need...” you gulp and glance at the doors. You push away from the counter and spin, searching. You don’t see the man. He’s probably waiting outside. But you never looked back. You never really saw if he was following. “I...” you turn back to the woman, “never mind.” 
You cross your arms and turn away. You cringe as you realise how ridiculous you must have seemed. Worse, you didn’t mean to bother someone just doing their job and over what? You’re own issues. You should go home, back to your reclusion, where you can’t be in anyone’s way. 
👄
When you finally muster the courage to leave the library, your journey home is slowed by your paranoia. You have your phone out, held up so you can see over your shoulder with the front camera. You watch the screen more than the sidewalk ahead of you. 
You get home without a second shadow. As you let yourself through the grated front door of the building, you can’t help but feel stupid. That man must’ve got the idea when you as good as ran in the other direction. You’re being dramatic. 
You close the camera and put your phone away. You waist six dollars in your frantic flight. You mourn the tea latte as the heavy inner door clunks shut behind you. You drag your feet up the stairs as your keys jingle on your finger. 
You apartment is at the very end of the hall. You enter and twist the latch. You slide the chain into place and hang the key ring on the little hook beside the door frame. You untangle your purse and leave it with your phone on the table in the corner. 
You shuffle the few feet to the front room and look around. You find comfort in the familiarity of your little apartment. Your hideaway. 
You go back to your desk and sign back in. You’re back later than usual but you can still make up the time. As long as there’s enough tasks left in the portal. You don’t have to let that man ruin your whole day. You’ll never see him again. In a few days, you won’t even remember him. 
👄
Wednesday. Halfway through the week.  
You scroll and click around your screen as you watch the clock in the corner tick on. Usually around this time, you’d be excited. You’d clock out for your break and go down to the cafe. As much as you looked forward to the treat, the walk alone was relaxing in its own way. 
Not that day. Despite your efforts to shrug off the strange encounter, you haven’t shaken it. So instead, the kettle boils as a bag of earl gray sits in an empty mug. You’re not going. Maybe next week. 
You’re a bit depressed but you’re too nervous to make the venture. Oh well, you’ll save a bit of money. You could find a different place next time. That might be easier. 
You stay logged in and claim a new task. Hey, you can be done work earlier if you can power through. You might even make a few extra bucks. 
The kettle clicks and you get up to pour the water. You leave it to steep, forgetting it for the screen before you. Your fingers tap endlessly across the keyboard, filling the silence as you zone in on the words, transcribing messy ink to Times New Roman. 
Your trance is broken by a sudden buzz. You sit up, the kink in your neck pangs. You need to stop hunching. The buzz comes again. Is that... It must be a mistake. It happens now and then, someone buzzes the wrong apartment. 
You get up as it sounds a third time and you shuffle down to the speaker box. You hit the button, “wrong number.” 
“No--” 
You let go of the number before you can hear the response. They buzz again. You sigh. You hit the button. 
“I’m sorry but you have the wrong number,” you repeat. 
“I don--” 
You release the button again and take a step back. Buzz! You’re getting annoyed. You hit the button. “Wrong--” 
“Got a delivery. 212.” The man’s voice drowns out your own, reciting your name after your apartment number. Your finger stays on the button as you frown. A delivery? 
“I’m not expecting a delivery.” 
“Are you...” he says your name again. 
“... yes.” 
Silence, filled with the low hum of the speaker, “so, can I come up or...?” 
“Uh, I guess.” 
You pull your finger away and hover it over the other. Maybe it’s from work? There was the one time they sent a cheap mass production travel mug with their logo on it as some incentive. A poor attempt at employee appreciation. 
You press down and hold until you’re certain they have enough time to get in. You wait by the door, ringing your hands. You hear the door at the end of the hall open on its old hinges and you peek through the peephole. 
You watch the fuzzy figure come into focus with each of his long steps. He doesn’t hold a box nor wear the uniform of a postal worker. No, he wears those blue leather loafers and holds a bright pink paper cup with a white lid. From the cafe.  
As he comes close, you get a pigeon’s eye view of the hair on his upper lip and his bold blue eyes. It feels like he can see you too as he stands smirking on the other side of the door. This can’t be real. 
He knocks and you wince as the door shifts in the frame. 
“Special delivery,” he calls through, “open up, baby face.” 
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the-iceni-bitch · 1 month
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Lookin’ at You Got Me Thinkin’ Nonsense
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Relationship: Lloyd Hansen (le grand homme) x female!reader (coquinette)
Words: ~2k
Summary: you don’t like when Lloyd leaves you alone…
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (m and f receiving oral sex, public sex, public nudity, multiple orgasms), mention of crime, Bobby and Kitten cameo, SMUT!!
A/N: Did you miss these two as much as I did?
I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on my fics follow my sideblog, @the-iceni-library , and turn on notifications!
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Lloyd groaned when you came around his tongue for what must have been the third time, rubbing his face against your pussy and grinning as he slurped up the sweet juices that were gushing out of you. The lower half of his face was soaked, but that was exactly what he wanted. Hopefully your scent would stay on his skin all through the damn meeting he had to go to.
“Ah shit!” He had lost track of time, catching a view of the clock over your heaving breasts and rising from between your thighs with a snarl. “Damn Newark meeting. Ma coquette, I have to go.”
The only answer you could give him was a pathetic whimper, your naked body trembling on the chaise as your system struggled to recover from the incredible pleasure he had wrung out of you. Damn if the sight didn’t make him want to blow off his job, but August and Nick were already grumbling about him missing three other meetings over the past month due to his need to help you “settle in” to your new life at his estate and penthouse. Your eyes fluttered when he kissed your cheek before rising to his feet, the way you murmured under your breath in French and stretched your body before rolling onto your side making it even harder for him to leave.
“No one goes in while I’m gone,” Lloyd ran a hand through his hair when he stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him, scowling at Baizen when it seemed like he wasn’t paying attention. “That includes you. I hear anyone disturbed her and they’ll have to answer to me.”
He waited for the dumbass to nod before striding off. Sometimes he really wished they could clone the giant, Everett, because every fucking other idiot that worked for them seemed to barely know how to do their damn job. His mood was hardly better by the time he stormed into the meeting room, fighting the urge to flip August off when the huge bastard gave him a smug grin, as if to give condescending approval for Lloyd actually showing up to a meeting. This had better be short. At least he knew this woman was a professional, though her partner looked remarkably aggressive for a meeting.
All the news was good news. The incursions they had been making into the opposition’s business had been going well, with territories gained all over the tri-state area. Lloyd managed to focus once they got into the details of planning their next assault, eager to encroach further onto the old men’s operations. There was some kind of commotion in the hall, but none of them worried about it. At least not until the doors burst open and you stumbled in.
You were still completely naked except for the sapphire choker Lloyd had given you that morning. Poor Baizen was trailing after you and holding out a blanket, his eyes full of pleading for you to cover yourself even as he did his best not to actually look at your nude body. As soon as he realized it was you he straightened up in his seat, a low chuckle full of affection rumbling through his chest when you zeroed in on him immediately and pouted. Every single eye fixed on him when you started strutting towards him. He could feel the annoyance radiating off of August and the bemusement coming from Nick.
“Mon loup…” when you reached him you flounced down on his lap with a small huff, nibbling on his ear and playing with the collar of his shirt as you ignored everyone else. “You left me all alone…”
“I’m so sorry, amour,” this time he did flip August off when he heard the man clear his throat in irritation. “I have to be at this meeting, ma petite chatte. These nice people I work with need my advice.”
The partner of the woman they’d been organizing with snorted at that, and Lloyd found himself growing even more fond of her when she elbowed the man in the gut before smiling warmly at you and him. Sure, she looked a little bit unhinged, but Lloyd decided he liked that about her. He also liked the way she introduced herself and her partner to you like you were just as important as the other men in the room, though he gave a snort of his own that a man who looked so goddamn lethal was named “Bobby”.
You just gave the strangers a curious look before turning back to Lloyd, whining as you pressed soft kisses all along the length of his jaw. All you cared about right now was getting your much needed attention from your man, your brain still fuzzy from all the orgasms he had given you.
“But you didn’t even let me take care of you, Daddy,” you giggled when he growled at the pet name, thoroughly enjoying how much he seemed to give into your desires ever since you had first started calling him that. “Makes me feel so bad when I don’t get to take care of you…”
“Coquine…” Lloyd groaned when your hand that wasn’t toying with his collar slipped between the two of you and squeezed his growing bulge. “How the fuck am I supposed to say no to you, you little minx…”
Lloyd glanced around the conference table as you continued to squirm in his lap, though he didn’t really know why, he was going to do whatever he wanted anyway. He ignored August’s glower and gave the man a cocky wink, focusing on you once more as Nick began going over the fine details of their upcoming assault.
“Go on, ma douce,” Lloyd peppered soft kisses all over your cheeks and nose, biting your bottom lip with a playful growl when you started to undo his belt. “Such a good girl, you always take such good care of me, amour.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” you giggled when he licked the indents his teeth had left in your lip, giving him a quick peck before sliding to the floor between his spread legs as you dragged down his zipper, humming to yourself as you drew him out of his pants.
The sound of the meeting faded away as you focused on your task. You gripping the base of his shaft in one hand as you used the other to trace every inch of him, a single, manicured finger dragging over each ridge and vein with reverent affection. He was so heavy and warm. You couldn’t resist rubbing his tip all over your cheeks and chin as you lost yourself in his masculine scent. When you finally flicked your tongue out to taste him you heard him hiss, smiling and gazing up at him through your lashes before wrapping your lips around his tip and sucking gently, your eyes fluttering as the distinct taste of him filled your mouth.
You decided you want to see if you could pull all of his focus back to you. After weeks of being with him constantly you had been spoiled to expect his constant attention, and the fact that you were not receiving it now was making you feel cranky. So you concentrated your oral ministrations on his sensitive head, knowing how quickly he gave into his baser instincts when you stimulated him so directly. Your lips quirked in a smile around him when you saw the muscles of abdomen twitch, making sure your expression was appropriately innocent when he gave you an inquisitive glance before trying to contribute to the meeting again.
But you couldn’t have that. You vibrated the head of his cock with a needy whine, one of your hands stroking his length while your other reached lower to fondle his heavy balls. There was a thump on the table above your head and you knew it was Lloyd’s fist. Your man couldn’t control himself when you tongued his slit and played with his sac at the same time, a fact that was giving you no small measure of satisfaction at the moment. A thin dribble of precum leaked from his slit and your eyes rolled back in your head, your lips tightening around his tip in an effort to draw out even more of his pleasure.
When you heard him groan you redoubled your efforts, dragging the tip of your tongue along his frenulum a few times before swallowing him to the root. The sensation of his cock sliding down your throat and you gently tugging on his balls did it for Lloyd’s control, his hand finding the back of your head as he leaned back in his seat to watch you fuck your own face on his cock. He couldn’t give a single fuck about the meeting when he got a look at you, so goddamn pretty with your lips stretched obscenely wide and your eyes glazed over making him twitch against your tongue. Goddamn, you were so fucking perfect.
“That’s it, ma bonne petite fille,” Lloyd stopped caring about the meeting entirely when you gently scraped your teeth along his shaft, hissing through his teeth and planting his feet firmly on the floor on either side of your body as he gazed at you with pure passion. “Daddy’s gonna take over, hold on.”
You whimpered at the first snap of his hips against your face, flattening your tongue and breathing through your nose as you kept your eyes fixed on his. They were bright and eager, full of preening satisfaction at finally being the center of his attention again. Drool started to leak from the corners of your mouth with each plunge of his cock down your gullet, your saliva mixing with his precum to create a sticky, pearly mess that dripped down your chin and onto your tits. Lloyd couldn’t get enough of the sight of you, vowing to buy you another sparkly something as you swallowed around the head of his dick and pressed your thumb against his perineum.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” He couldn’t contain his shout when he felt his balls pull tight, holding your head still as he ground against your face and pumped his cum down your eager throat. “That’s a good girl. Take it, ma coquinette.”
The way you refused to release him until you’d milked every single drop from his balls had his thick thighs shaking, his fist slamming into the table again when you swirled your tongue around his excessively sensitive tip over and over until he was almost in pain. “Greedy fucking girl,” it came out in a huff when you gave his softening length one final suckle before letting him slide from between your lips, collapsing back in his seat and chuckling warmly while you hummed to yourself and kissed along his happy trail.
“I don’t want to fucking hear it, Walker,” Lloyd didn’t even have to look at the man to know he was about to make some annoying comment, cupping your jaw in his hands after you tucked him back in and kissing every inch of your face and neck while you crawled back into his lap. Once you had settled he turned half his attention back to the meeting, one hand trailing over the bare expanse of your spine while he drummed the fingers of the other on the table. “The plans are fucking done, aren’t they? So quit being a bitch. Besides,” he kissed your temple when you tucked your face into his shoulder. “Don’t think I’ll be able to leave ma petite pute alone during meetings anymore.”
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boxofbonesfic · 15 days
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Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [8]
Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader
Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why. 
Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!
Word Count: 3,572
A/N: poor reader. things are not going as well as she’d hoped. we’re honestly in the home stretch, i anticipate another 2-3 chapters before we’ve arrived at our conclusion! (i also have some plans for a short prequel, so stay tuned!) bottom divider by @firefly-graphics
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You stare at your husband, open mouthed as he shuts the door behind him. On the tray in his hands is breakfast, and most of all—coffee. Real coffee, swirling gently in the fancy drip . You can’t think of a single thing to say as he moves past you to set the tray down on the table. 
The scent of his cologne makes your knees tremble, it’s so familiar, so him. You haven’t seen Ransom in person in so long it feels like some sort of trick. You look down at his hands as he arranges the plates, looking for the indents left by Lloyd’s signature rings—but there is only his wedding band, sitting on his ring finger. He looks up at you. 
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Sweetheart.” 
Your tongue is sticky in your dry mouth. “I did.” 
Ransom isn’t as good at pretending he’s unaffected—not as good as Lloyd. Brief upset flashes across his features before it’s replaced by determined placidity. It makes the rage simmering in your belly flare up even hotter at the sight of him. You’re angrier at him than you are at Lloyd. It isn’t logical, you know, to feel somehow more betrayed by your husband than his twin, but you do. You suppose Lloyd owed you less than the man with whom you had shared every hope, every dream for your future. 
“Let’s eat something, at least,” he replies at last. “You can hate me on a full stomach.” Reluctantly, you sit down at the table. You wonder if all your meals will be taken like this now, now that contact has been re-established, like some sort of strange exposure therapy. Ransom pours himself a mug of dark coffee and then a matching one for you. You don’t reach for it, though, not until you see him drink from his own cup. 
The plate before you is loaded up with fresh fruits—your favorites: cut grapes, melons, slices of kiwi—and beneath that is a fully loaded waffle, topped with fluffy whipped cream. You spear a forkful of eggs and chew as you stare pointedly at the mug in front of you instead of at him. 
Ransom isn’t like Lloyd, he doesn’t force conversation. He simply sits there across from you, eating breakfast in your prison like it’s the most ordinary thing in the entire world. 
“How could you do this?” You vomit up the question as you tremble, unable to swallow another bite. “How?” 
“We love you so much,” he begins, and you have to resist the urge to throw the plate at his head, food and all. “So fucking much.” Ransom reaches across the table to grasp your hand. “This is the only way this works, Sweetheart.” He lifts his hand to your cheek. You hate that his reassurance feels good, that you’re tempted to press your face into the palm of his hand the way you used to. A sob tears free from your throat. 
“If you loved me, you wouldn’t—”
“Do you even know what love is?” There is a cold edge to Ransom’s voice that’s unfamiliar to you, not because you haven’t heard it before, but because he never adopts that tone with you—never. “Love is doing for others what they cannot do for themselves.” You almost want to cringe away from his gaze. “You taught me that.” As his words increase in intensity you actually try to, only to have Ransom grip your chin with his free hand.“Even if it hurts.”
He sits back in his chair, and sips his coffee. “Now finish your breakfast, Sweetheart. I have a surprise.” The word surprise immediately gets your hackles up, and you can feel your stomach churning. 
“A surprise? What is it?” Ransom winks at you. 
“Eat up.” 
You force your way through the fruit—it’s sweet and ripe but it tastes like mush now as you anxiously chew and swallow. Ransom had always been a good gift-giver. It’s one of the things you’d valued about your husband, his attention to detail, his heart. That little piece of him he’d let you see, the part of him he guarded, held like a wounded bird in his cupped hands. The part of him that memorized your birthday three months in and threw a half-birthday party because he couldn’t wait that long to give you the present he’d gotten for you—a trip to Paris, to see the Louvre. Which one of these people is your husband, you wonder, watching him watch you. Which one of them is real, which is created? 
Or had you ever really known him at all?
When you’re done eating, Ransom hands you a little plastic baggie, containing an assortment of pills. A few you recognize—your pre-natal vitamins, one of your prescribed supplements—but there are some you don’t. You glare down at his offered hand with narrowed eyes before crossing your arms. 
“I’m not taking those.” You’re expecting Ransom to fight you—hell, you’re half expecting him to pin you down and force them down your throat. But he doesn’t. All he does is purse his lips, and place them down on the table. 
“We’ll revisit that.”
“We’re not revisiting anything!” You hiss. “I am not. Taking those.” Ransom steeples his fingers beneath his chin and raises an eyebrow. 
“You had no problem taking them when you couldn’t see them, Sweetheart.” Your stomach rolls. “It was my suggestion,” he sighs, fingering the little packet. “I thought you would appreciate the agency.”
“You’re still drugging me.” 
“Sweetheart they’re not roofies.” His flippancy somehow makes you angrier. “It’s all the things you were taking—perhaps a little altered for your condition, but nothing untoward. Your Celexa for your anxiety. Prenatal supplements, vitamins.” 
“I’m not taking them.” 
“Fine.” He picks the little baggie back up and places it in his pocket. Instead of tacit, clever threats like Lloyd, Ransom simply gets up. You look up at him in surprise, almost forgetting to be angry. 
“Y-you’re not going to force me?” You ask, shocked. Your husband pushes his chair back against the table. He looks sad. Really sad, like he recognizes the weight of what has changed between you. 
“No, baby. I’m not.” He turns towards the door. “But I’m not going to stay, either.” Your eyes go wide with fear.
“W-wait, why? I—”
“You’re upset. I understand, I do.” For his part, Ransom looks realistically disappointed, like he wanted things to turn out differently than they have. A sad smile flits across his face. “But baby if we’re going to build back what we had, build it stronger, you’re going to have to think about more than just yourself.”
You feel a pang of hurt in your chest at his accusation. “I’m not selfish! If any
thing—”
“Threatening to leave me? To take the baby?” Ransom shoots you a cold, disappointed look. “What did you tell me, Sweetheart? The baby will never know my name? What would you call that if not selfish?” You swallow thickly. 
That day feels so long ago now, though in truth you suppose it’s been nearly a month since you’d figured it out and everything had broken open and fallen all to pieces. It’s strange to think that that was reality in the same way that this is—that your physical body no longer occupies a world that exists only in your memories, when everything was perfect. 
“I’m going to give you some time to relax. Maybe It’s too soon.” Ransom shakes his head. “I’ll be back when you’re ready.” Your chest feels tight at his declaration. Alone? Again? You curl your fists into tight balls beneath the table, nails digging into your palms. 
“Don’t.” 
“Oh? And why should I stay? You hate me, you won’t take your medicine—”
“I’ll take it.” You mumble, and Ransom turns back around, a soft, surprised look on his face. You don’t want to go back to being alone, back to the endless hours of silence, your food delivered while you slept or bathed, to reciting movie lines just to have something to listen to—
“What?”
“I—I’ll take them. Please—you don’t…” You close your eyes.. “You don’t know what it’s like to be in here alone, day after day.”  It’s torture. The words hang unspoken from the tails of the ones you’re brave enough to voice. Tears press against your closed lids as you try unsuccessfully to keep them back. He sighs. 
“Oh Baby.” 
You hate him —you hate both of them, so much it seems to fill up every inch of you. So why do you want him to stay? Why does it feel familiar and right and good when he tucks you beneath his chin as you sob? You’d managed to hold them in with Lloyd, but you can’t with Ransom. He’s too familiar, your body knows him, thinks it’s safe with him, even when it’s not. But it’s hard not to feel that same security when he sweeps you into his arms and sits against the window with you as you whimper and cry, pressing your face into his chest. 
Ransom rocks you back and forth, rubbing circles on your back through the cotton dress. You aren’t sure what he says to you as he does so, mumbling muddy praise and promises into your hair. It’s almost worse than that day at the villa—you hadn’t been this hopeless then, this trapped. You’d thought you could leave then, that you could simply walk away from the snare they had set for you, though you never really could.
What other end could there have been?
You aren’t sure how long you sit there with Ransom, your heaving, hysterical sobs becoming hiccoughs. Listlessly you stare out at the waves, dragging the back of your hand across your puffy eyes. Wordlessly, he hands you the little plastic bag of pills. You take it from him without a fuss, tear open the corner and dump them into the palm of your hand. You consider them for a moment before lifting them to your mouth and swallowing them dry. 
The surprise, as it turns out, is books. 
Ransom brings in a brightly colored bag from the hallway as you sit sniffling on the bed, still wiping at your puffy eyes. It almost brings you to tears again as you pull out the tissue paper to reveal the prizes inside. They’re all books you’ve never read before but had been meaning to, even going so far as to put a list of them on the fridge in the apartment you shared with Ransom. Frankenstein. Hound of the Baskervilles. The Shining.
“You read my list.” 
“Of course I did,” Ransom says, pressing a kiss to your temple before sitting beside you on the edge of the bed. “It’s been up there for months.” He teases. “I thought we could read them together, like we did in college. Since you’ve been so lonely.” Something goes tight and achy in your chest at the memory of it, you and Ransom cuddled together on your narrow dorm room bed as you read him passages of Wuthering Heights and Catcher in the Rye. It’s so easy to picture it now, though you had not thought of them for months—maybe years. Your husband just a few years younger, draping his own sweater over your shoulders. 
I like when it smells like you, he’d say when you’d stammer about lotion or perfume, pressing it into your hands anyway. 
“I’d like that.” 
It’s almost like being home again, wrapping yourself in the soft comforter on the bed as Ransom begins to read. Is it so wrong, you wonder, to want to go back to when things were ordinary and perfect? Before you knew your husband and his brother felt something deeper than love, deeper than obsession for you—ownership, perhaps. You don’t want this new knowledge, as insane as that seems. You don’t want to know that your family is dependent on them, that their lives rely on your marriage in ways you never could have foreseen. Your father’s business, Nathalie’s school—all things they would lose the instant your relationship dissolved. 
And as Ransom reads, it’s almost easy to pretend you don’t have it, to close your eyes and just… listen. You’re half asleep when he shifts you into his arms, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head. You begin to stir, pushing at his chest, but he hums softly. 
“Just let me have this, Sweetheart. You can still hate me when I’m done.” Your husband holds you to his chest, stroking your hair until you fall asleep. He holds you like that for a long time, listening to the sound of your breathing. With a sigh, Ransom lowers you down to the mattress. He’s arranging your books on the bedside table when the sound of the keypad draws his attention.
“You’re bringing her presents already?” Lloyd drawls from the threshold. “I thought you said she wasn’t ready.” Ransom rolls his eyes. He knows what jealousy looks like well enough on his own face to know it on his brother’s. 
“I said that a week ago,” he says softly. “And keep your voice down. You know we had to lower the dose on the sedative.” Lloyd leans against the bedpost, watching as Ransom fusses over you. “Besides. You got to see her yesterday.” He shoots a glare at his older brother. “You took a fucking bath with her. You always have to be fucking first, don’t you?” 
It’s Lloyd’s turn to roll his eyes. “I don’t interfere in your relationship, you don’t talk shit about mine.” He smooths a hand down your cheek. “I called the doctor. He said he’ll be here Monday.” 
Ransom nods. “Good.” A small smile crosses his lips. “I think she’ll be excited to see the baby.” He rests a hand on the ever-so-slight curve of your belly, and Lloyd snorts. “With our luck, it’ll be twins.” You shift, mumbling something in your sleep as your face twitches. Lloyd kisses your forehead. 
“Shh, baby. M’right here.” His hand replaces Ransom’s on your belly. “We’re not going anywhere.”
“A doctor?” You stare at the two of them incredulously. “Here?” Lloyd scoffs at your shock. 
“Come on, Princess. It’s not like we’re in space.” He pats you affectionately on your hip. “Besides, you’re due for a checkup. Don’t you want to see your little nugget?” His words twist your stomach. You had scheduled an ultrasound for when you returned from Mykonos—not knowing, foolishly, perhaps, that you never would. I wonder what they told Dr. Pashik. 
Ransom and Lloyd are wrapped around you like snakes; your husband curled around you from behind, while Lloyd has draped himself across your lap, tracing circles on the exposed skin of your thigh where the dress has ridden up. They’d come into your room sometime early that morning while you’d still been mostly asleep, taking up residence on either side of you while you mumbled groggily. Of course Ransom and Lloyd had not come empty handed, bringing with them more gifts; books, card games, even a portable device they told you you were allowed to watch movies on. Of course, upon discreet investigation there were only streaming apps installed on it, no browser, nor any way to reach the outside world. It was password locked for extra security, which neither one of your lover-turned-captors had yet supplied you. 
You rest a hand on your tummy. “I am excited,” you say finally. “I guess… I’m surprised.” Until now, they had not allowed you to see a single person other than them—in fact you wouldn’t have known there were more people here than the three of you had Lloyd not pointedly told you. “What kind of doctor treats a prisoner?”
“You’re a patient, Princess.” Lloyd corrects you. “Not a prisoner.” He kisses your thigh. One who enjoys a discreet, hefty payout. 
“Someone you know from work?” You ask snidely, and Lloyd laughs. 
“Maybe when I can trust you, I can tell you.” He winks at you. You know your brother-in-law does work for “the government” but you aren’t really sure which government. You get the feeling he has no loyalty in that regard, though all you have to go on is your own baseless assumption. Your thoughts turn to the doctor, and you wonder if they might be sympathetic, despite Lloyd’s money. If you’re even allowed to be alone with them—in all likelihood you probably won’t. If Ransom and Lloyd have been anything they’ve been careful, you doubt they’d make such a rookie mistake this far into the game. Not now. 
You smile sadly. “I don’t think you’ll ever be able to trust me.”
“Oh Princess, I don’t know about that. After all, look at us now.” A lump forms in your throat. “All cozy like. I think you feel a lot more comfortable than you want to admit.” You swallow against the lump that’s formed, thick and sticky in your throat. 
“I just know there’s no use trying to push you off.” 
“Okay, Princess.” Lloyd blows you a kiss. “Whatever you say.” 
It is warm and comfortable between them, and as much as you hate it, Lloyd’s hands do feel familiar and right on your skin, though you don’t want them to. It occurs to you once again that you don’t know what’s in those neat little pre-packaged pill bags that they’re giving you, and as much as you don’t want to bask in the sudden intensity of their affection after weeks of stark purposeful isolation, you still can’t help yourself. It doesn’t help to know the rules of the game when they’re still playing it so effectively. All you can do is watch as Ransom and Lloyd move you around the board, to ends you can only imagine. 
“When is the doctor coming?”
“Tomorrow,” Ransom says, squeezing your hand. “I think we’ll hear the heartbeat, you’re far enough along, you know.” He sounds excited. You know he is—Ransom has always been excited at the prospect of fatherhood. He’d been downright encouraging when you had brought up going off your birth control, if the things he’d been growling into your ear as he rutted into you in your bed were any indicator, and they were. 
“We still haven’t talked about names.” 
“I had a list going but it was on my phone.” 
“Maybe we’ll take a look at it together soon.” Ransom’s hands drift to your shoulders, rubbing at the tense muscle knotted underneath your skin. 
“Will we get pictures?” You ask. “Of the ultrasound?” 
“Of course.”
“Then… will you send them to my parents?” His hands falter, and you turn to look at him. Your husband’s expression is unreadable as he glances down at his brother, an entire conversation passing between them wordlessly. You feel that same pang of old jealousy creep up into your chest, and you swallow it down. “I just—they… they would want to see.” 
“Maybe.” He says at last. 
“Where do they think I am?”
“I don’t—”
“I’ve been good, haven’t I?” You ask, shifting away from him, from the both of them. “Please. Tell me something. Anything.” Lloyd shakes his head with a frown, but Ransom sighs. 
“You’re in a very expensive hospital in Austria.” 
“My father wouldn’t believe that,” you say, shaking your head. You know your family—they wouldn’t just swallow some paper thin excuse just to get back to their lives. Would they? “He-he would want to see me.” 
“Your father is very busy with his business, Princess,” Lloyd cuts in effortlessly. “He has so much to worry about, and then there’s Nathalie’s classes…” he shrugs. “They trust us to take good care of you.” 
“So let us take care of you.” 
You’d suspected you had no tears left to cry, that perhaps you’d cried them all already. But as always, you manage to surprise yourself with more from the seemingly unending supply inside you. You want to push away their hands as they pat and comfort you, hushing you and wiping at their tears with the pads of their thumbs. It’s the only comfort you have, especially knowing your family isn’t looking for you. Why would they? You remember the bitter, bitter arguments you’d had with your own father when you had decided to move out. They relied on you, needed you—you contributed to more than a third of the bills, there was simply no way around it. You were hurting the family, damning them with your independence. 
“Have you ever thought about anyone but your goddamn self?” Your father had never apologized for that night, and like a dutiful daughter you never brought it up again because how could you? You were the oldest, junior mom, de-facto parent. Something shatters inside you at the thought, and you feel it almost like physical pain. I wonder if they can hear it. 
You don’t know when the arms around you begin to feel like solace instead of suffocation as you weep against someone’s warm chest—you cannot be sure, not through your blurry, red-rimmed eyes. But as your fingers curl into his shirt, and another warm set of lips presses against your hair, you wonder if perhaps this is why they chose you. 
Because who didn’t love to tinker with a broken doll?
to be continued…
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Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️
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sosa2imagines · 4 months
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Broken Hearts.
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Each part will have different warnings. There's only one love interest and it is not Steve. He is dark and mean in the series along with one more character. As for the rest, they are good friends.
New part every second day. (Hopefully)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10
Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20
Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 (Epilogue)
Complete. ✅
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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year
Note
Can I please request best friends, dad!Lloyd, finding you masturbating in his bed!! Maybe include some toys+squirting?? Thnnnx!! Love your blog💘💘
hey honey, thank you so much!
summary - you've been pining over your best friend's dad and decide to take your chance, knowing he's out and your best friend is asleep, you be a little bit naughty and touch yourself on his bed, not knowing he's coming home early.
warning - smut, masturbating, voyeurism, squirting.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips
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You were sneaky, waiting until your best friend fell asleep so you could sneak out of her room. You’ve hung around enough to know that her father works late, only coming home early in the morning, sometimes covered in blood. You had a slight crush on the man. I mean, could you really be blamed? Wearing your tiny white nightie as you head toward Mr Hansen’s room, you sneak inside, not bothering to close the door as your friend sleeps deeply. 
Your trusty toy tucked into your hand, with your free hand, you drag it along his sheets, sighing as they are so soft. You get wet just thinking about Lloyd lying naked between the sheets, stroking his thick member. You whimper, crawling onto the bed and lying down. You moan as your body relaxes. Your eyes slip closed, and your fingers skim your nipples. They slowly slide down your body, landing between your legs and circling your puffy clit. 
You blindly turn your toy on, placing it directly onto your clit, causing soft mewls to escape your lips. Your mind begins to drift off thinking of Lloyd, imagining him walking in on you, degrading you, until he finally flips you around and thrusts into you. You are so caught up in pleasure that you don’t hear Lloyd arriving home earlier than usual or entering the house and making his way to his room. You don’t even notice him leaning against the doorway, and you whine as you arch your back, grinding down onto the toy. “Oh, Mr Hansen.”
Lloyd crosses his arms as he watches you with a smirk and clears his throat. His smirk grows when your eyes fly open, and you freeze, mouth opening and closing as you try and find an excuse for why you are in his bed, touching yourself. “Well, sweetheart. If I had known this is what I would’ve been coming home to, I would’ve come home much faster.” His eyes slowly move down your body, licking his lips when they land on the soaked toy between your legs. Lloyd waves his hand. “Don’t stop on my account, please. Continue.”
“M–mr Hans–” He cuts you off with a raised brow. You feel your body heat up and your cunt throb as he stares you down. You gasp as you press the toy harder against your clit, and your legs fall open, giving Lloyd a better view. 
“Mm, that’s right, pretty girl. Get off in my bed. I bet you wouldn’t even be able to stop even if my daughter woke.” He smirks, making his way over and sitting close to you on the bed, causing your mind to go fuzzy from his scent alone. You throb when he touches your thigh, stroking it as his gaze sticks to the toy between your legs. “You’re such a naughty girl, pining over your best friend’s dad… Hmm.” You look at him with wide eyes, mouth falling open and eyes crossing. “You thought I didn’t notice? It’s quite flattering, pumpkin. Why do you think I walked around half-naked? Or brushed up against you.” Lloyd smirks, stroking your cheek before gripping your chin and resting his thumb on your plump bottom lip. “Are you going to cum for me? Make a mess on my sheets?” 
You whine, nodding. Lloyd groans when your lips wrap around his thumb, and you begin to suck, staring up at him with wide innocent eyes. Your walls pulsate, and your clit throbs, toes curling as your end approaches. “Mr Hansen!” Your back arches, and your juices squirt out of you, tiring your body and causing you to sag into the bed. Your eyes flutter, the toy falling limp between your legs. “I–I’m sorry…” You realise what you have done and try to get up, but Lloyd stops you.
“Don’t be sorry, pumpkin. That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Lloyd grabs the toy, feeling his cock stir with how wet it is and holds it up, watching with a smirk as your juices create a string. “Naughty, naughty girl. Look at the mess you’ve made.” You watch with wide eyes as he licks up your arousal before throwing the toy aside and climbing on top of you. “Just because you’ve had your fun, sweetness, doesn’t mean you can leave. You don’t want to leave without letting me pump you full, right?” 
You shake your head, feeling your cunt throb in anticipation. Your fantasy was finally coming true.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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ronearoundblindly · 26 days
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For the every Cevans character, what is each one’s favorite position in bed? 😏😆
Fac-i-na-ting. I have categorized them into similar positions and then broken down the specifics or variations. No, I do not know the actual names of a lot of positions. I use the terms 'top' and 'bottom' but NOT in a BDSM way.
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Sincerely, MINORS DNI. Warnings for very smutty descriptions of each of these characters 'in the act' and just...do I need to warn you about how much I was sweating during this???
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'Top' Positions
Curtis Everett - Jimmy Dobyne - Steve Rogers - Ransom Drysdale - [Bucky Barnes]
Curtis is a cramped-quarters kind of lover, like you have been fucked up the bed until you and he are pressed against that headboard like a pretzel on a baking sheet. Gahdamn, he is intense. He threads an arm beneath you to make sure you're as close as possible. He grinds his pelvis into you, loving how his balls slap your ass. He likes it real sweaty, but he'll help you clean up in the shower, too. Dirty boi. 😮‍💨 We need him.
Jimmy and Ransom like you bent over but in different ways. Ransom just enjoys doggie-style. He feels awkward with too much eye contact and doesn't have to worry about that from behind. Jimmy is exceptionally good at spontaneously pressing you back or down onto a counter or the couch or perhaps a fence outside. 😳 He's oddly into fucking with at least some clothes on, but not because he doesn't like your body. He has a thing for choosing sex over chores or other obligations, so he and you are dressed for doing whatever else. It's just a little naughtier that way.
Steve is--I'm sure we can all agree--a missionary man. He looooves that eye contact Ran is so afraid of, but BUT! Steve's also a most considerate gentleman. He worries about putting too much of his weight on you, so his actual favorite position in pinning you against a wall (or mirror or window, etc) because he can lean into you without fear. He also enjoys that you get very, very excited for him to hold you up like that. You wrap around his neck and kiss him like it's your purpose in life. You get handsy, and that's about his favorite part...
[I know you said CE characters, nonnie, but Bucky just sneaks in, sorry!]
Ngl, Bucky took me the longest to figure out, and I'm not entirely sure he has a true 'favorite,' something he likes a good deal more than other positions. I have, however, landed on Bucky going braindead and gooey inside when he gets you in a mating press. There's, uh, a symbolism to wanting him and his cum inside you for as long as possible that hits all the right buttons to shut him down to the rest of the world for a while. He likes to sit back afterward and grip your knees to keep you right there until some drips out as you clench around nothing. You aren't empty though.
[Why. the fuck. does Bucky always get so 🥵 in these?]
'Bottom' Positions
Johnny Storm - Jake Jensen - Lloyd Hansen
Lloyd lets himself be lazy. He legitimately tucks his hands behind his head like he's at the beach and taunts you to work harder. He's so used to ordering people around and being quite active. Unless he has some aggression/frustration to work through, Lloyd needs to not be bothered with effort. It's your turn. Put your back into it.
Jake lets you control everything. Let's be fair: Jake is just happy to be here, ya know? He gets to be naked, he gets to see you naked, and he is going to come no matter what. Use him to your heart's content. Don't try telling him not to touch you (like an order or a deprivation game) because he can't stop himself. Every other order or request, he's game for, but on his back offers the best view of you--and technically, his glasses fog less 😬.
Johnny straight up loves when you ride him. He controls everything from below, though, because it's not actually about you taking over. He loves guiding your hips. He loves fucking up into you. He loves already being prone to fall asleep faster. [Go on, try to tell me I'm wrong. ::listens:: ::crickets:: Yeah, that's what I thought.] It's a win-win-win situation. All around cannot fail to please him. Johnny is definitely the type to assume that what feels good to him feels as good for his partner.
'Side' Positions
James Mace - Ari Levinson
Mace technically changes positions so much it maybe doesn't count as 'side,' but he's so playful, I'll allow it. His favorite sex, in general, is filled with natural ebbs and flows, quicker frantic times as well as soft doting and sweet, blissful enjoyment. A position that puts either him and you a hair's breath away from taking over is ideal. He wants to enjoy your company as much as your body. Mace can do both of those things in many, many different positions.
[Mace is quickly becoming a sleeper-fave of mine, my gawd. He's 😘🤌]
Finally, if Ari doesn't scream "wants to wake up fucking you," I don't know who does. He's spooning you, or coiled together with you someway, and just...ready when he sees you first thing in the morning--or in the middle of the night. Why bother moving much? He'll lift that leg up for you. He'll wrap around you to cup your breasts, play with your nipples, and rub your clit. Don't you worry 'bout a thing. Doesn't have to do with the position you're in, per se, but Ari also gruffly whispers other shit he'd like to do to you in your ear. It's vaguely easier to do that when your heads are on the same pillow, just saying.
Thank you for asking!
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[Main Masterlist; 'Who Would..." Asks; Ko-Fi]
A/N: I successfully scheduled a post! Look at me, learning and shit...
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chxrryhansen · 7 months
Text
𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐌𝐁 𝐀𝐔
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Pairing; Multiple character club AU, each fic portrays different readers.
Summary; A series of tales staring your favourite Cevans babes, Location: Cherry Bomb.
𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍
𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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𝐀𝐑𝐈 & 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘
From the day you stepped foot into Ari’s club you were his. Not only did he own half the city, but your body and soul alongside it. Will his dangerous aura drive you away… or pull you in closer than you could have ever imagined.
𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐃 & 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑
𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 & 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘
𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒 & 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐒
𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 & 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇
𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊 & 𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐒
𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐌 & 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋
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dividers by~ @cafekitsune
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georgiapeach30513 · 9 months
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With Your Touch, Part 1
Summary: You were supposed to be living a normal life. Perfect boyfriend, just graduated college, and ready to start your new life. Until you met him. Brooding and imposing unless his daughter is around. You knew nothing about babies, but he knew less. Tension builds, feelings flare up, but are they just because he looks extremely sexy when he's soft? Could it be because you are falling for this princess of a baby girl before him? Is it because when he's in town you're too close? The money is good, and yet his attention is better.
Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Reader
Rating: mild
Warnings:  language, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 4.1K
Series Masterlist
*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
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Lloyd scowls as he watches the scene in front of him. The crease between his brows is extra deep. He hates working in the field almost as much as he hates watching it. Idiots. He was surrounded by incompetent idiots.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” His fist slams on the table. How many shots have to be fired before they secure their target. “He’s right fucking there! Shoot his ass!”
“Lloyd,” a timid man says behind him, and Lloyd’s eyes never leave the monitors. “Mr. Hansen?”
“I don’t want to do this myself, but I fucking will! Levinson, get ready to go!” More rounds of bullets, and still the target was missed. “What the fuck is this?”
“Lloyd!”
His body goes rigid as he turns to look at the small man who is shivering. Eyes downcast to the floor so he doesn’t look at the towering man. “Why the hell are you addressing me?”
“We have a problem.”
“No, shit, Sherlock. I have two teams of mercenaries after one target, and he’s not been shot. What the fuck else could be wrong?” He leans over a bit looking at the man. “Well?”
“Who the hell brought a baby?” Ari asks, staring down at a pitiful little carrier. An envelope beside the small bundle, and her bright green eyes stare up at the large man. “This isn’t bring your daughter to work day,” her face cracks a moment as she searches his face. Lips puckering out before a scream radiates through the makeshift office. “Make it stop!”
“Where the fuck did a baby come from?” Lloyd snaps a finger at another man to take over the original issue at hand. He just needs the target killed, and he can go home for a bit. “What is this?”
Ari’s hands slap on the side of his head covering his ears, but his foot tilts the carrier to rock it a bit, but still she wails. Seeing how no one attempts to help out, or get the baby to stop, Lloyd assumes this is something he’s going to have to take care of. What else was new? Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he leans down to grab up the letter. Crumpling it up before looking down at the baby. “Mother fucker.”
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Your fingers run over the empty shelves in your dorm room. Graduation has finally happened, and now it is time to leave your mark on the world. Your father didn’t bother to show up for your graduation because why would he? He never showed up personally in your life. Not really. He always made sure that everything was paid for though. It could be worse, right?
You try not to complain about your father, or your family. You had more than most and should be grateful. But then some people had attention. Sighing, you grab up your bag, and look towards the door.
“Chase,” whispering, you walk over to him, and lay your head on his chest. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I don’t know why you feel so attached to this dorm room, honey.”
“Because it was my home,” you’re sure he didn’t fully understand, which was okay, you never bothered to explain. You kept your family dynamics quiet. He never asked why you were so quick to visit with his family for the holiday, just enjoyed you being there.
His warm arms wrap around you, and he holds you in a tight embrace. He wasn’t quite comfort, but he is sweet. He means well, and did what he could for the information that you provided to him. But this dorm room was the closet you had to a home. You had good memories here. Friends that were more like family, and now it’s gone.
You groan when the stupid sound of your absent father’s ringtone sounds off. Maybe he is actually calling to congratulate you for wasting his money on a degree that he deemed pointless. He. It probably wouldn’t matter what you did, it’d never be good enough for him.
“You gonna get that?”
“Do I have to?” You complain looking up at Chase. His mouth lifts to the side, and he nods his head. He is right. You should talk to him and quit hiding. You didn’t know what he was going to say or do. “I’ll be waiting in the car.”
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“So the kid is yours?” Ari looks down at the car seat, watching the little baby cry, no one attempting to soothe or comfort her. Lloyd squats down and rubs his thumb over her cheek, and she struggles to breathe from her tears. “Are you going to hold it?”
“Can you stop referring to my daughter like she’s a thing?”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Ari answers sarcastically. “Then pick her up. What is her name?”
“Clara told me to name her. She didn’t bother naming her. What…what do I do?” He looks up at his friend, showing the tiniest bit of emotion. “I don’t know anything about babies.”
“Start by holding her.”
“You hold her,” Lloyd is a lot of things but nurturing is far from one of them. He was a man that didn’t make mistakes, but clearly, he messed up somewhere. Of all the women he had been with only one was he stupid enough to knock up. But the way Lloyd is staring at her would suggest he almost wanted a baby.
“This is so fuck…this is so stupid. Clean up your mouth. She isn’t old enough to talk yet, but she will be,” Ari gets down to his knees, starting to remove the straps over her body. “She’s a pitiful little thing. Shh, girlie, you’re scaring your daddy before he’s properly got to look at you. There ya go,” he coos, holding the tiny girl up against his chest. Her cries soften a bit. He wonders when the last time she felt loved, because her body moves around feeling more of him.
“What’s wrong with her?” Both Ari and Lloyd’s noes turn up in disgust as they smell her. “She’s not been bathed?”
“That’s poop, Lloyd. We can’t have a baby here,” that is something Ari is certain of. Not only was this not a place for babies, he didn’t want to have to smell the baby smells.
“I didn’t ask for the baby. She was dropped on the mother fucking steps. Clara. I’ll kill that dumb trollop. Never trust desperate women. She doesn’t want money. She just didn’t want the baby. And I need her to have a name, so I’m not just calling her the baby. Ari, name her.”
“I’m not naming your spawn. She’s born of you, you name her. And my god, you gotta change this diaper, and figure out what you’re going to do in order for us to not have to deal with a baby like this. What the hell do you want?”
Lloyd turns to look at one of the analysts standing in the doorway. His thick rimmed glasses, and quiet demeanor made him one of Lloyd’s favorites. He was trustworthy, and smart. Quick. One of the few people Lloyd didn’t want to strangle. “Roman, what do you need? We’re dealing with someone.”
“You need an au pair.”
“What the hell is that?”
“It…it’s someone that will live in your home, and care for the child. They could teach them another language, and…”
“Sounds like a wife. Do I get to fuck them? Does she talk back to me?” Roman shakes his head no, wanting to say more, but doesn’t want to risk his job. He had the perfect person to help Lloyd with his little problem. “Where does one find an au pair?”
“I know someone that just recently graduated, and she speaks French. She has a degree in art history, and…”
“I need her at my house immediately,” Roman acts as if he’s about to say something until Lloyd cocks up a brow, “I will pay her handsomely.”
“You’re keeping the baby?” Ari’s answer comes in the form of Lloyd reaching towards the baby. Turning up his nose at the stench, but he holds her gently. Tenderly. He gives her a quick peck on her head. “He’s keeping the baby. Roman, call whoever. Sounds like the amount of money is not an issue.”
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Staring up at the posh apartment buildings, and squeezing Chase’s hand, you wonder how you even got here. Your father didn’t do anything but give you money. You didn’t even know him. Didn’t know what he even did to make the money. And now you are taking orders from him. Allowed him to make you feel like shit for your education.
“You don’t have to listen to him,” Chase says calmly. Slipping his hand out of yours, he turns to look directly at you. “You’re a grown woman, you don’t have to listen to what daddy says.”
“Don’t call him that,” your father didn’t earn that name. That’s exactly what you called him, father. “I mean look at it, there could be worse places to live.”
“Yeah, and you’re caring for a child that isn’t yours. And where’s her parents? How often will you have this child?”
“I’m going to live with them.”
“That’s another thing, I don’t exactly like the idea that you live with them. Who are them?”
“It’s a need to know basis,” you mumble. Finally finding your footing you take a step forward. It was now or never and it seemed like it was going to be now. What did you actually have to lose? This was a guaranteed job. It’s not like you had to stay. The pay was great. And how hard could one baby be?
You were going into this job with a house, great pay, and it seemed somewhat cushy. “You’re just going to be giving another child a life without their parents.”
“And just think where I would have been without my nanny,” you spit out, feeling a bit more protective of a child that you haven't met. It wasn’t her fault anymore than it was yours. Children should be loved and taken care of, and that’s what you are going to do.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know you didn’t. You don’t have to go with me if you don’t approve,” sighing, Chase follows you as you walk into the building. Following the exact instructions you were given from your father. You didn’t know what you were walking into. It was just a job after all.
Neither you or Chase say another thing. He definitely could feel your irritation at the need to insert what he thought he knew about your life. Your life wasn’t horrible. You just didn’t have your parents. Especially not your father. He had a business. And whatever he did afforded you a charmed life.
Seems like this child was getting the same treatment. And if you could give her the life that your amazing nanny gave you, then you feel like you’re giving it back. You didn’t see yourself as a teacher, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. And it was just one small baby. Eventually she would be going to school, and that’s if you even stayed that long.
Attention was everything when it came to children. If you said no, and this was apparently an emergency, what would happen to this child? Every child deserves a good life.
You don’t fully bother knocking on the door. Just punch in the code to the apartment, and Chase tugs at your arm. He isn’t as comfortable with this as you are. Your father gave you the code, Lloyd didn’t want you to knock, he wants you to make yourself comfortable. Your eyes go wide as you look around.
You could see the house at one point was pristine, but now it’s chaotic. Empty boxes are everywhere, but all of them seem to be items for the child. Your father told you she was a baby, but not how new she was. Tiptoeing deeper into the apartment, Chase pulls you back into him.
“Announce yourself. This is weird.”
“Mr. Hansen?” The sweetest little baby gurgle comes from the next room, and you look up at Chase. “That’s a real baby, handsome. Can I go meet my employer now?”
“I’m right here. Scream if you need me.”
“Mr. Hansen?” You ask again, looking into the first room. It is an even bigger disaster. Stuff was everywhere. The room has so much potential, but why does everything seem new? “Mr. Hansen, do you need help?”
He needs a lot of help. Could barely tend to his own child. His movements seem very rigid and unsure of himself. “Yeah, I think she peed. She has on the diapers that change color when wet, but…I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“I babysat a few times,” it’s a bit of a stretch. They weren’t babies. But you’ve seen some movies. Read some things, “Let me see. Hey there, cutie,” she looks like she could break hearts. She is angelic. Chubby little legs, and the biggest dimples in her cheeks. Completely toothless with the prettiest bright green eyes and long lashes. “I think you’ve overwhelmed your daddy. Did you recently just get custody?”
There had to be a reason for this mess. But he went and spent a ton of money trying to give his daughter everything she needed and could ever want. “I just recently found out about her,” that took an unexpected turn. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t have the time to really devote to her, but I don’t want her to do without, and…I’m in over my head.”
So he was a bit like your father. But he seems to currently be more hands on than your father was. It was cute, in a completely not weird way at all. Lloyd was older than you. A full grown man while you had only just graduated college. “I’m not an interior designer, but I know some. The apartment is a mess, I’m aware. Lyla needs so much, and this place was just here. I never took the time to do anything. So me and my partner ordered everything we could think of. I don’t think she needs everything we got, but she could. She has her bed, and her diapers, and there’s a box of formula and food in the kitchen. Her food should be there, right? I don’t think she plays with toys yet, but there’s some somewhere.”
“Is this a Dior stroller?”
“I was told it was a pram,” you stare at him, trying not to giggle. The fact that it was Dior was the more silly part. “I can’t do what I do and have her there it’s dangerous.”
“What do you do?”
“Don’t ask,” the look he gives you makes you take a step back, gawking up at him when you realize his size. He is tall. Arms that are thick and hard as steel. His shoulders are wider than your entire body, “Lyla will be provided for, and because of that so will you. Whatever you need. I’ll leave a card for you. I won’t be able to personally get all your…well, all your needs. So this seems like the best option.”
“My needs? Like food?”
“Uh, I know that you women have things you need,” he’s an idiot. “I’ll give you a check, so this looks legit, but I can provide all your special woman needs,” huge idiot.
“Yeah, I can get my ‘womanly needs’ with my paycheck. Do…how often are you going to be here if I’m living here?”
He puffs out a bit of air, and he fully gives you attention. His daughter now has a changed diaper, and he cradles her sweetly. Some stupid expensive silver teething toy in her mouth, and his eyes roam over your entire body. He’s a bit too handsome to be a father, and one that just so happened to be your employer. His eyes are too blue, and his arms look too thick, and you gulp, clenching your thighs together. What the fuck was this witchcraft?
“Every night if possible. I typically work remotely, but sometimes I do have to go out of the country, and that leads to a few days to a week without me coming home to you and Lyla,” is he smirking? You shouldn’t feel so small and taken aback, but your stomach erupts with annoying butterflies with how hard he’s staring at you.
“Would you like to see your room? It’s next to the baby’s. My bedroom is in the front of the apartment, just off the living room. So I’ll be the first to the door. Absolutely no one in this apartment. I don’t trust people. Especially not around my child, and I guess now you come into my protection. If you need to know the apartment is in another name. I have a tendency to create a lot of enemies, and I try to keep things here as safe as possible.”
Lloyd freezes when he hears Chase sneeze. Handing you the baby, he covers you and her with his body in such a quick motion it takes your breath away. Your loss of breathing had nothing to do with his weight digging into your skin, and you surely don’t let out an odd sound that has him giving you a quick wink.
“That would be my boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend? Roman didn’t say anything about a boyfriend.”
“Roman doesn’t even know when my birthday is. Do you have a problem with Chase being here?”
“What kind of name is Chase?” With your free hand, you shove him off you. You didn’t need him that close to you. “Honestly, what kind of name is that? And I said nobody visits.”
“You just told me that. He traveled here with me because he didn’t trust that I was coming to some apartment with some weird man that lured me here under false pretense just so he could murder me.”
“I don’t lure women here. This is a safe space for my daughter. I need you to make him leave,” Lloyd didn’t need to lure women. When he wanted a woman he could have one. And wanting a woman led to him becoming a father.
“But I don’t want to be here alone with a baby that can’t talk,” his eyes narrow at you. It is like you and Lloyd are playing a tit for tat game. Going back and forth of why Chase shouldn’t be here, and why you need him here. “He has a job. He works at an IT firm. Would you really want me here alone and by myself? What if someone comes here to attack me? Then Lyla is left all alone.”
“I’ve taken precautions that this would never happen. When you’re on the clock, Lyla is your only priority,” that made you feel slightly uneasy. You had to make a note to check the neighbors. Getting a feeling that someone was tasked with watching and listening to you and Lyla.
“When am I off the clock?”
“When I am here. Unless,” he gives you that eat shit grin again, shaking his head. Is he actually flirting with you, “I shouldn’t say that, sunshine. So what should Lyla call you? Nanny seems a bit too old and mature for someone sweet like you.”
“Why not my name?” He contemplates that for a moment, looking down at his little baby who stares up at you. If babies could talk, you wonder what she is thinking of.
“Dolly.”
“What?”
“I want her to call you, Dolly. Her Dolly. Ooh, yes, I like that. Let’s see what I should do about this boyfriend,” spinning on his heels Lloyd walks down the hallway, stopping the moment he sees Chase. Your boyfriend stands up immediately, holding out his hand for Lloyd to shake.
“I don’t like you.”
“I’m sorry?” Chase looks towards you holding the baby, and takes a quick gulp. Lloyd’s eyes go between the two of you before sidestepping in front of you. His wide body blocking Chase from looking in your direction. “What is this?”
“Chase, let's get something straight, when I’m not here, Dolly is on the clock.”
“Her name isn’t Dolly.”
“When I’m here, I’ll allow her to come and go as she pleases, but just like Miss Dolly, I need to get a background check on you. I don’t want just anybody to have access to my daughter, and her au pair. And absolutely under no circumstance will you be sleeping under my roof. This is my home, and my daughter’s, and I don’t need stupid boys coming in here and tainting that,” he turns to look at you. Giving you no time at all to process exactly what he is saying. He couldn’t be serious.
“Remember, I own your father. I also own you. I’m offering you money that you can’t refuse because he just cut you off, and you’re used to a certain lifestyle. I’m providing that for you. And I don’t want limp dicks in my home. Have I made myself clear?”
“You can’t do that.”
“I can do whatever I want, Dolly. I’m Lloyd fucking Hansen. If I want to cut every single finger off your father’s hands, I will. You can either have me as your employer or your enemy. And if you walk out that door with that boy, you will be my enemy. I’m not saying you can’t date him, I’m saying I don’t want him in my house or around my daughter. Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes,” his head tilts forward, and his piercing blue eyes give you a look. A look you can’t exactly explain, but it makes you feel things. Makes you ready to do whatever it is he told you to do. “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl. Get rid of the boyfriend.”
“But you’re here.”
“And so are you. There’s no need for him to linger around, while you move in. This is just an introduction, sweetheart. I need to walk you through all the boring stuff about your job. I’ll pay you extra if you get Lyla’s bedroom situated. This place is a complete disaster, and I can’t stand it. Get rid of him,” reaching towards Lyla, he walks back down the hallway to her room, and you give Chase an awkward smile.
“Come on, he can find someone else to be the au pair.”
“I need to see this through, Chase,” he tries interrupting you. Like he usually does, but you shake your head. You did need this job. None of the other places you applied at have called you back. “I need this job. It won’t be forever. And once I get settled in, and have my first day off, I’ll spend it with you.”
“You’re really going to let him talk to you like you’re his property?”
“No, I’m not. But I see myself in that little baby, and she needs me. He doesn’t know what to do.”
“Do you?” Nope. You had no idea about babies. You didn’t even have siblings. But your bags that were in Chase’s cars had a few books with some ideas on what to do. You’d figure it out along the way. Plus, you had this odd desire to understand your dad’s job, and also what exactly Lloyd did. How did a man that instilled so much fear in you also have a soft spot for his daughter?
“You’ll call if you want to leave? No questions asked, I’ll come and get you?”
“No questions asked,” you promise, kissing his lips softly. His hands cup your ass, and Lloyd glares at him down the hallway. How did Roman allow you to grow up and be disrespected in a stranger’s home? You allowed him to kiss down your neck, and neither of you even knew he was watching.
Lloyd would never let Lyla be treated like that. He wished he could make her not get any bigger. He liked the idea of having a woman in his home. Even if it wasn’t the way that a traditional family had it, who knew what the future held. You wanted to please him. Even told Chase it was time for him to leave. He still had it.
Chase pulls off your neck, and notices Lloyd watching you. His hands slip into your back pockets, and he gives your ass a bit of a squeeze, “Who’s girl are you?”
“I’m yours, Chase. Now go on, I’ll call you later,” his eyes flick over to Lloyd, who ventures into Lyla’s room. Going to lay her down for her nap as he tries to think of ways to get rid of Chase. He is an asshole. A cocky one at that. Unfortunately he reminded Lloyd of himself. And there is only enough room in your life for one asshole.
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biteofcherry · 3 months
Text
You don't fool yourself thinking he let you go out of the goodness of his heart. He didn't have a heart.
For years you lived accustomed to the notion that he kept tabs on you, because once he considered something- someone his, he would never truly let go. But as long as he didn't have his goons dragging you back to him, you were fine pretending that you're finally free.
Even if at times - rare, empty nights with a bottle of vermouth and an itching so deep in your core - you wondered bitterly, if your sweet freedom was because he had more entertaining projects to warm his bed.
Fleeting thoughts. Quickly replaced with the comfort of little dreams you were working on achieving each day.
But the light of passion and hope could be dimmed not only by the monster that still lurked in the shadows.
Brutal reality of heartless capitalism and injustice were bubbling like a tar. Which other leeches used to their advantage.
Small, sleazy scum, who amped their threats the longer you resisted, the harder you fought. They hurt others and undoubtedly would go for your neck next. Or other parts.
It was despair of a drowning person to reach for that razor blade.
Even if his help would bleed you a little, he had the power to pull you out of the murky depths.
If he chose to do that.
The cold glint in his eyes, as you walked across the polished floors of what used to be your home, filled you with dread. He could so easily say no and throw you out.
A fraction of warmth you felt in your chest was a shallow sense of safety. Just for those few moments no one would hurt you. Not here. Not in the monster's lair.
Only he could.
There were two other men sitting with him in the lavish space of the dark living room. Judging by the tumblers in their hands and pleased smiles, they were celebrating a small business victory.
Small, because even if for them it was a grand project, you knew it was an insignificant chunk for him. A bone thrown to the starving dogs.
"Gentlemen." His voice as he addressed his guests was like a blade to your balance.
Your legs nearly gave out.
It's been so fucking long since you heard that velvet poison of a voice.
"We have to cut our evening short," he declared, without taking his eyes off of you.
"My wife appears to be in need of me."
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Who is he?
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