#dad!lloyd x reader

[xcaptain-winterx]

Hiii I saw that your requests are open. Can I request a drabble or oneshot of LJ’s first birthday? Thank youuu also I love your writing 🫶🏼

Superstar

dad!Lloyd Hansen x sunshine

summary: LJ’s first birthday

warnings: fluff, slight suggestive stuff, poop, tears, Lloyd, baby

a/n: English is not my first language, meaning you will probably find a lot of misspelling etc.

Main Masterlist Daddy Sociopath Masterlist

“Ouch” Lloyd says, pulling his hand to his chest, looking at the spatula in your hand “that hurt”.

You roll your eyes at him with a smirk before continuing making the cake, “I told you that you can’t eat the cake batter”. Lloyd huffs and sits down on the counter opposite from you. He watches you stirring the pot while swinging his legs.

A pout forms on his lips “But why? You already made two cakes, Sunshine. Can I just have a little taste, please?”. You slightly turn your head to see Lloyd giving you his best puppy dog look, trying to convince you to give him some.

“Lloyd, you will get to eat some cake later. Not now. Also, eating raw cake batter is not good for you” you say as you pour the batter in the cake form.

A groan leaves Lloyd’s mouth, and he dramatically lets his upper body lay down on the counter. He just wants some cake. Normally, he only gets that dramatic when he doesn’t get a taste of you.

“We used to eat raw cake batter all the time at Harvard. Why can’t we now? That’s not fair” he says, jumping down from the counter. “I even promise to not smear some on your face”. Some hope is still in Lloyd that you give in.

At that you chuckle, “Sorry, Moonlight, but I don’t want to risk you getting sick or that something goes wrong with the cake”.

“Oh, come on” Lloyd says, opening the oven for you to put the cake in. “The other two cakes turned out good. A bit of missing batter wouldn’t have ruined the cake”. He closes the oven after you put it in before wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you back into his chest. You giggle when his mustache tickles the weak spot on your neck. He starts to sway from foot to foot with you in his arms. You lean your head back on his chest and close your eyes.

A smile plasters on Lloyd’s face. “Don’t worry” he begins, “everything is going to be perfect”. He places a soft kiss against your temple.

You give him a quiet sound of acknowledgment. “Everything has to be perfect”. If this day doesn’t go as planned, you could never forgive yourself for messing up. If someone else ruins this day, you will kill them. It’s not every day that your baby turns one.

It’s LJ’s first birthday, and you have been planning this day for a long time. You spend months deciding what theme it’s going to be, what cakes should be served, who will be there, the presents and more. You spend a month alone looking for the best five stars bakers to make cakes for that day. Lloyd thinks he has never seen you this mad when the baker you chosen said he didn’t have time that day. He may or may have not threatened to cut his balls off and make cake pops with them if he didn’t bake that cake.

Best husband.

The smile on your face when Lloyd told you that the baker just mixed up the dates and actually has time was something beyond happy.

Therefore Lloyd is that confused and mad that he can’t have some cake. So far you baked three cakes and more cake will be here shortly. He needs some sugar.

While you were spending months planning this birthday, Lloyd just stood next to you, letting you be in your fixation. For once, he didn’t get why you were making such a big deal. LJ was only 3 months old at the time, but perhaps it was also because he was scared to tell you to calm down. Obviously, he knows that the first birthday is somehow special, but overall it’s just a birthday. This doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t have made all of his staff decorate the whole place and spend thousand and million dollars on his son’s birthday presents. Lloyd just wouldn’t be that stressed about that day.

He would still kill anyone that dares to ruin this day.

The more the relationship with his son grew, the more he realized LJ deserves everything in this world and there is nothing he won’t do to make that possible. If one of the staff or his minions makes LJ cry, they can prepare to get their organs taken out and limbs cut off.

Lloyd is trying really hard to be dad of the year.

While he is trying to be dad of the year, he knows that mom of the year already goes to you. The title already belonged to you before LJ was even born.

A staff ruins Lloyd’s and yours moment as they walk in and inform you that the cakes are here. Lloyd groans again as you jump out of his arms and make your way to the kitchen on the first floor. He sends the staff a glare, making them almost piss themselves before following you.

When he comes downstairs, he already sees people bringing in cakes and decorating the place.

“Put those fucking balloons over there, shithead!” Lloyd screams as they hang some balloons near the food table. They quickly scramble around, moving the balloons. “Fucking idiots”.

Lloyd snatches a strawberry from the fruit table and pops it into his mouth, while taking in the scene. If Lloyd didn’t know what was going on, he would think the apocalypse was about to start. He’s almost 100% sure that you made them get all panicked by pressuring them. Though it could also be his heavily armed men standing at each window that are making them that nervous. Lloyd shrugs his shoulders. As long as they do their job it doesn’t concern him if they are close to passing out.

“Lloyd!”

He jumps up from where he is standing and jocks in your direction. You are standing in front of a table with furrowed brows.

“Yes, sunshine” he says, standing next to you, hands behind his back, “what’s the matter? Who do I need to kill?”. Lloyd leans over your shoulder, nose brushing over your cheek as he inhales your smell.

“Do you like the gold or silver stars more?” you say, not acknowledging his action. Lloyd rests his head on your shoulder before moving closer to the table. “The silver stars fits the blue aesthetic more and are more simple, but the problem is that simple is boring. The gold stars are more shiny and bring in a specific ‘wow’ effect, but they don’t match the aesthetic”.

One thing Lloyd will never get tired of is your look for the details. You could paint a portrait of him and won’t show him till you have every single freckle, beauty mark, hair, small scar on the canvas. Though, you don’t have to paint every single wrinkle.

“I like the gold ones. They scream more Hansen” Lloyd says with a cocky smirk.

You look at his choice before nodding and calling over the staff to hang the gold stars up. “If it weren’t for LJs birthday decoration, I would say your ego is showing again” you say, pointing to the staff in which places they should hang them up. Lloyd’s gasp jokingly and places his hand on his chest.

“Sunshine, that’s mean”

“It’s the truth, Moonlight” you say, “your ego is as big as your dick”. A gasp leaves your mouth as Lloyd suddenly grabs you and pulls you into his chest hard, not budging even as you try to get out of his right embrace.

“No no no, Mrs Hansen” he tuts with a low voice, “You know you can’t just talk about my big boy without any action”. Lloyd’s one hand moves to your ass and gives it a good squeeze, while his other hand takes your hand and brings it towards his covered member. “Sunshine”.

In quick motion Lloyd’s Hand on your ass moves to the back of your head and pulls you forward. Your second gasp gets muffled by his lips smacking against yours, teeth clashing together. Lloyd is full on making out with you, not caring about others watching you two. They can watch all they want. Lloyd couldn’t give a fuck less, as long as you’re not naked. He loves touching you in front of others, showing everyone that you belong to him and ONLY him. You’re his and his alone. You belong to him.

Lloyd walks forward, caging you in between the table and him. A simply move of Lloyd’s arm and you are sitting on the table with him between your legs. He grabs your legs and pulls you closer. Out of instinct, you wrap your legs around his waist.

It seems like Lloyd finally gets some attention from you.

Until both of your phones vibrate at the same time. You pull away from the kiss and Lloyd chases your lips, not being finished with the kiss. He needs another taste of your soft lips and peach flavored chapstick. Sadly though, he only gets to touch your finger, which you stopped him from kissing you again, while you pull out your phone and look at it. You open your phone and see that LJ woke up. Both you and Lloyd can check the cameras and will always get a notification when LJ starts to wake up.

“Looks like the Birthday boy is awake” you say and pat Lloyd’s shoulder as you stand up, giving Lloyd a little peck on the lips before he can grumble again. “You coming, daddy?”.

He smiles at the peck and you calling him that “Stop teasing me that much, Sunshine” Lloyd says tilting his head. He watches you giving him a sunny smile, feeling the warmth of your happiness consume him. Lloyd walks over to you and takes your hand in his one, interlocking your pinkies and kissing it. “Let’s wake up our boy” he says before walking with you upstairs to LJ’s nursery.

A big smile greats you as you open the door, two chubby fingers pointing at you two.

“Maaaaa” LJ says, giving a lopsided grin.

You feel Lloyd roll his eyes before moving towards his son. “Well good morning to you too, superstar” he says. He keeps on telling himself that LJ will eventually learn to say Dada, Dad, Daddy, Papa, hell, he would even be ok with LJ calling him Pops.

LJ raises his arms as his dad comes closer. Lloyd picks him up and tickles his little belly, resulting in LJ letting out high giggles and squeals.

“Happy Birthday, bubba!” you say, kissing his cheek. Lloyd smiles and gives him to you as LJ reaches for you. Ones in your arms, LJ immediately snuggles into the crock of your neck. Such a mama boy.

“You are already one now! Only six more years and I can legally show you how to shoot” Lloyd says cheerfully, but quickly shutting up when you send him a death glare, “Of course only when Mama allows it”.

“Which she won’t”

“Yes, what Mama says is law” Lloyd says, “but legally it would be allowed-“

“Lloyd”

“Yeah, you’re right, no weapons”

You give him a satisfied nod and Lloyd you a thump up. We need to appreciate, though, that Lloyd would have waited till LJ was legally allowed to do that. For a sociopath who’s a hitman and more, who doesn’t go by the law, this is a big thing. For ones, he would have followed the law.

You look in LJ’s eyes, smiling brightly, “I promise you will have the best birthday ever. We have some shiny lights and cake. Oh, and we can’t forget your presents, superstar”. LJ already claps his hands and wiggles out of excitement after you said shiny. “First, we need to get you ready though”.

A soft smile decorates Lloyd’s face as he makes his way towards LJ’s closet.

A knock fills the room before the door opens and one of the staff pops their head in.

“I-I’m so sorry to interrupt, Mr. and Mrs. Hansen, but we just got notified that the flowers won’t get delivered because the driver is sick” the staff stutters out in one go without taking a breath. They know that Mr. and the Mrs. won’t be happy about that. And well, they are scared that Mr. or Mrs. Hansen will cut off their head and send it to the company that were supposed to deliver the plants.

“What!” you and Lloyd say at the exact same time.

You hush LJ as he whines due to the loud noise, gently swaying him. Lloyd, on the other hand, doesn’t show any calmness in that situation and strikes towards the staff, making them hunch together.

“What do you mean by that?! That fucker can’t bring the flowers because his pathetic ass had to sneeze and immediately came to the conclusion that he was dying?!” Lloyd says through grit teeth, “I will cut that limp dicks face off and sew it back on backwards, then he will have some problems with his nose!”

“He has 104 F-“

“Do I look like I give a single fuck that this dick chocking piece of shit is dying of a fever?! No! Why can’t they send someone else, huh?!”

“They only have one dr-“

“I’ll blow their fucking company up and every single family member of the employees if the flowers aren’t here in the next 10 minutes!” Lloyd screams.

“I-I tell them that, M-Mr. Hansen” they say before quickly walking out, asking themself why they work here.

Lloyd’s face is red like the fuckers blood he killed at 2am, before he went to bed only to be woken up by you three hours later. A small whine makes his face fall and turn around to see LJ with teary eyes. His face quickly cools down as he walks over to the two of you.

“Oh, I’m sorry, junior. Dada didn’t mean to be that loud” Lloyd says softly, rubbing LJ’s back. If there is one thing LJ is scared of the most or hates is loud noises. If Lloyd wasn’t that loud, LJ would have probably even laughed because he loves seeing his dad put people in their place, especially while swearing. He may be a mama boy, but with his father’s love for hating people.

As expected, LJ clings to you closer, hiding his face in your chest. Lloyd finally looks at you and knows that you aren’t happy.

“I thought we talked about the swearing, Moonlight” you say in a soft voice, looking at him with a disappointed expression. He knows you aren’t directly disappointed in him rather, just not exactly happy that he did it in front of LJ again. “You know you have to put something in the swear jar”.

Lloyd doesn’t know how much money he had already put in the swear jar since your pregnancy, but he swears a lot and only carries hundred-dollar bills with him. He would say he’s still under a million though…..barely. Though, this jar is only for when he swears in front of LJ.

“I know, I know, sunshine” he says and kisses your temple. “Though I know you would have done the same if LJ wasn’t here”, he gives you a knowing look.

“Oh, I would have definitely screamed like that” you say, nodding while continuing to calm your baby down.

“Don’t worry, I will take care of it, sunshine” Lloyd says.

“No, it’s fine. I will” you give him LJ, who slightly protests against leaving the warmth of mama, but some comforting words and kisses eventually convince him to let go and calm down. “Would you mind getting him ready for the day?” you ask, opening the door.

“Dressing up my beloved Hansen Junior like his dada? Can’t think of anything better” he says and sways a bit. “I mean except-“.

“Thank you, Lloyd” you say, cutting him off, knowing exactly what he wanted to add, “love you”.

“Love you too, my beloved sunshine” he says as you walk out of the room, blowing you a kiss. Lloyd watches you close the door before looking down at his son, who is still looking at the door. “Don’t worry, once you’re ready for the day we see Mama downstairs” Lloyd says, caressing LJ’s blond almost white hair.

“Mama” LJ says, pointing towards where you went, while looking at his dad.

“Soon” Lloyd answers, chuckling at his son’s pouting and gives him Mr Mustache from the crib, which LJ immediately takes. He walks with LJ in his arms towards the closet, filled with various of different baby clothes of LJ. Surprisingly, not everything in the closet are designer clothes, some of it are from what Lloyd likes to call ‘the degenerated section’. If it wasn’t for you, Lloyd would’ve burned those clothes by now. Not because they are ugly, Lloyd has to admit they are actually pretty cute, but because people who are way below his money income also dress their kids like that.

Among those designer and cheaper baby clothes, there is also handmade stuff like sweatshirts, pants, jackets, hats and more. All of them are well knitted and made out of colorful wool. The thing is that not you made those clothes, but Lloyd did. He took his time knitting for hours to make adorable stuff for LJ to wear. If someone ever asks Lloyd though, he would deny immediately. He would say that he never even touched a needle and that knitting is some grandma shit. People would probably believe him…as long as you don’t show them some photos to prove that Lloyd knits in his free time.

“Now, my little superstar, what are we going to wear today?” Lloyd asks, to which LJ just snuggles into his chest. “I think my clothes are a bit too big for you” he says chuckling. He looks through the closet and takes out a little fluffy sweatshirt.

“This looks cute” the grunt LJ gives is answer enough. “Yeah, you’re right, it’s be a bit to warm too wear a sweatshirt“ he says and puts it away, continuing his search.

Next, he takes a blue romper from the hanger. “What about this? It’s nice but a bit boring, don’t you think?” he says, raising a judging brow at the romper. LJ nods in agreement.

Lloyd continues and grabs a baby tuxedo that he got custom made to fit LJ perfectly a while ago. “Oh, doesn’t this look good? A fudging expensive suit that fits this mini Hansen perfectly. You will get all the ladies and whor- wonderful people with it” he says smugly, saving himself at the end of the sentence.

Mini Hansen looks at the tuxedo for a second, inspecting it with his big eyes. His eyebrows furrow a bit of concentration, which makes him look like you when you concentrate on a painting. Lloyd smiles at the similarity between you two. Even though the furrowing of the eyebrows is from you, the look in LJs eyes is fully Lloyd Hansen. The judgmental stare that makes you question your existence and everything else. It’s like LJ is giving the bitch look just with brows that give him a more innocent look, like he isn’t just thinking that you look like poop.

“Mhm, what do you say, junior?”

LJ shacks his head and scrunches his face, whining and clinging to his dad’s polo.

Lloyd gasps “not this one?! Look it may look uncomfortable, but it’s actually pretty comfy” he says to which his son begins to kick his feet and slap his chubby hands against his dad’s chest. Lloyd huffs, LJ for sure, is a picky and stubborn baby.

“No no no no, what did we say about hitting dada? You are not allowed to kick or slap him. LJ, look at me” Lloyd moves LJ in his arms to get him to look at him “are you listening to dada?”.

LJ’s lower lip begins to quiver and Lloyd sighs “Look, if you stop hitting dada I put that suit away, deal?”. His son looks at him like he grew another head before, pointing to the closet. “Yes, I get you something else to wear when you stop”.

He looks at his dad for another second and then nods and stops trashing in Lloyd’s arms. Lloyd smiles, happy that his son agreed. He hangs the tuxedo away and stares at the walk-in closet. There are a lot of options, but nothing that fits the occasion. It can’t be something to ‘normal’, but also not too fancy. Walking through the closet , he sees nothing that catches his eyes or what LJ would approve of.

Lloyd’s attention gets drawn back down to his son as he pulls on his polo and points to something. “This?” he asks and grabs what LJ pointed at. LJ pointed at a dark blue sleeveless romper that he knitted awhile ago. To be more specific, he knitted the romper, among other things, while he wasn’t allowed to sleep with you for two months. He had a lot of time for knitting and jerking off to the image of you on your knees in front of the mirror, back to his chest while he fucks into you hard and fast, forcing loud moans out of you.

He grabs the romper and smiles. “You like stuff dada makes” Lloyd says. LJ claps and smiles, happy that his dad is holding the right thing. “You should really act like that about me around Mama, you know?”

On his way outside the closet, Lloyd grabs a white polo onesie, bouncing his son in his arms. “Then let’s change this man’s diaper and hope you didn’t cause a natural disaster in there” he says as he lays LJ down and puts Mr Mustache to the side.

Lloyd says a quick prayer to god before starting to change LJ’s diaper, that he will not get attacked by a poop bomb.

Luckily it’s not that big of a natural disaster, just a tsunami.

“Perhaps we should change your meal plan”

“Don’t pout”

“Come on, junior. Don’t cry. Mr Mustache is right here”

“Don’t kick your legs!”

“Stop that, Lloyd Junior!”

“I have shit on my hand!”

“Ahhhh!”

“Don’t laugh, junior!”

“I’m gonna throw up”

After changing LJ’s diaper and quickly washing and sanitizing his hands in LJ’s bathroom, he comes back and begins to finally dress LJ.

With slight struggle, he manages to get LJ’s head through the onesie. LJ hates when his head has to go through that. Lloyd smiles as he sees his son’s scrunched-up face turns happy when he sees him again.

“Well hello there, junior” he says in a high voice and LJ gives him a lopsided smile. Luckily, LJ doesn’t struggle as Lloyd puts on his romper and white socks.

Lloyd picks LJ up and gives him Mr Mustache before making his way to LJ’s bathroom and sitting him down in front of the bathroom mirror, making him face the mirror. A protective hand is on LJs back to make sure he doesn’t fall back on accident.

“Let’s give you the final Hansen touch”. With his free hand, he takes a soft brush and begins brushing LJ’s few hairs.

LJ interrupts in loud giggles as his dad decides to show some of his dance moves while brushing the hair, singing Stayin’ Alive. The giggles turn into squeals as Lloyd brushes his mustache with the brush.

“Jealous, Junior?” Lloyd jokes and carefully brushes LJ’s upper lip, like he had a mustache too. This action makes LJ fart because of laughing so much.

Once done, Lloyd wipes LJ’s mouth, who covered himself in spit duo to his laughing and then picks him up and walks out of the room.

“Ready to celebrate your birthday, Superstar?”

LJ claps his hands and wiggles in excitement.

“Mama!”

Lloyd groans.

[vellicore]

Twisted Pairing: Step Dad!Lloyd Hansen x Step Daughter!Reader

Word Count: 600+

Warnings: stepcest, voyeurism, female masturbation, nudity, implied future anal, minor daddy kink, dubcon/noncon if you squint, reader is early twenties, age gap.

Request: Lloyd Hansen, Step Dad, “What’s the matter? You’re acting like you’ve never seen a naked man before.”, and anal. Requested by: anonymous

A/N: I'm sorry I've been so slow with writing these. January has proven to be much more difficult than I had anticipated. I promise the stories are coming, and I am looking forward to doing your requests. This isn't my best work, but I still had fun writing it. It has not been beta read, so any mistakes are my own. As always my work is intended for adult audiences so 18+ only! Minors DNI. Pay attention to all tags and warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Writing Event Masterlist (still in the works)

From the first time Lloyd saw you he knew he needed to have you. That’s the thing about Lloyd Hansen, he always gets what he wants. He’d only married your mother because of the connections she provided. With her he’d be able to spread his business out throughout the country. What he hadn’t expected was the delicious present she had been hiding. 

Tonight your mother was out with friends from college. Lloyd knew this was the perfect opportunity to get what he’d been craving. You. He could picture you up in your bedroom reading one of your countless books. It was cute how you always seemed to find ways to avoid him. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, he knew you felt something too. There was a magnetic pull between the two of you, and tonight would be the night he finally gets what he’s needed.

Lloyd makes his way up the stairs and stops outside your bedroom door. He’d expected to hear nothing, but instead he could hear what sounded like quiet whimpers. His eyes flutter shut as he leans in closer hoping to be able to hear you better. “Oh… Oh fuck, Lloyd.” There was no denying what he heard that time. You were in there touching what belonged to him. Without giving it a second thought, Lloyd quickly began to undress himself. This hadn’t been how he planned to do this, but when the opportunity presents itself how could he say no?

Once undressed, Lloyd opens your door. It takes you a moment to realize he’s standing there, and boy was he thankful for that. For that meant he was able to get a full spread eagle view of your soaked cunt. He watched as your finger meticulously rubbed your clit. The little moans that left your mouth were like music to his ears. It was when he let out a small grunt of approval that your eyes finally opened. 

The look of embarrassment washed over your face. But that look quickly turned into confusion and horror when you spotted that he was naked. Your eyes traveled down to his hard cock which was now between his large hand. Lloyd’s smirk grew when he saw that your eyes appeared to be glued on him. “What’s the matter? You’re acting like you’ve never seen a naked man before.” His eyes never once leave yours as he slowly strides across your bedroom. “Oh come on, sunshine. We both know what you were just doing — who you were thinking about. Come on, be a good girl, show me.” 

The more he talked, the more your body seemed to tremble from nerves. “I - I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lloyd.” He rolls his eyes at your attempt to play dumb. He wasn’t going to allow you to continue your charade of being so called innocent. “You really want to play that game? Fine, show me. Prove to me that you’re not soaked right now. Because you and I both know that your little pussy is dripping for me. Dripping for your step-daddy.” His words cause a small to leave your lips.

Maybe just this once you can give into your desires. Maybe just this once you can be bad. 

Lloyd could hear a semblance of a plea when he watched you lay back on your bed. Your legs spread wide, inviting him to come give you both what you need. But Lloyd lets out a small tut and shakes his head. “Sorry, sunshine. That pussy isn’t what I’m interested in right now. I’d rather fuck your untouched hole. Turn around now.”

[procuder]

I suddenly wanted to see a weird scenario where the system gave Lloyd a large mysterious blue egg. He held it, confused, and then the egg touched him, causing a six-year-old child to emerge. Yes, this little boy sees Lloyd as his 'Papa' and is very cheerful (I don't really like the 'father and mother' setup...so I came up with this) As for his appearance, he completely inherited it from Javier (somehow) and has Lloyd's eyes. Isn't he very cute?

After that, a lot of shit happened lol and it ended with Lloyd being forced to babysit this kid. Oh my god, my biggest dream is to see their fanchild call Lloyd 'Papa' and Javier 'Dad' so I have to

[eulalielatibule]

i think lloyd would have a boudoir in his room 🥺 somewhere to store his, ahem, copious bottles of cologne and for you to get ready 🫶🏻

Lloyd absolutely as a boudoir! He has no shame, he likes having the space to get ready but also likes to watch his prize wife getting ready.

We all know man is a man of luxury.

He's a king and likes to live like one.

The master bedroom is huge- big enough to make a separate sitting area and dressing room

Which is exactly what he did

For a while it was a place for him to go to- like a man cave of sorts.

He'd smoke his cigars, display his whiskey and cologne, watch football games and such.

But then he met you, and what is a king without his queen?

He moved his man cave to another room in the house and the old room became your boudoir.

He kept his cologne in there though, because you said how much you like smelling it and how you spritz it on when he goes on long business trips.

Lloyd loves watching you go around trying on different outfits

Perhaps it's his voyeuristic kink, or his love of you and your routine

You're just like him in terms of luxury- you have too many clothes to count, twice as many shoes and accessories

Most men would probably complain about that, but not Lloyd

He's happy he's finally found his match in terms of primping and pampering

And not to mention, the love seats and fainting couch is such a fun spot for some dirty play 🫠

Many a times as he taken you in that room and had to get someone to clean up your juices

Because let's be real, as hot as it is he isn't letting anything ruin that room lmao!

[dindjiarin]

Six Days, Part II - (Sierra Six x F!Reader)

I wrote this because ✨️Six deserves a lil more than a kiss✨️ 😌 I read the first The Gray Man book, and some characterization is based on it, but mostly this is movie-based. Let's pretend Lloyd Hansen survived his ordeal, shall we?

A/N: I had not yet read Ballistic (Book 3 of The Gray Man series) before writing this so the unintended similarity between Ch 36 and my work here was unintentional. I'm gratified to know Court Gentry so well lmfao. 💀 My bad, Mr. Greaney.

Lil Spotify playlist I listened to while feverishly typing. (Wipe Your Eyes is a Sierra Six song, I said what I said.)

Beginning / Ending / Prequel

TAGS: Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Six x F!Reader

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI 18+, sexual content, mention of rape (rape is not threatened nor occurs), drugging, blood/wounds/death.

WORD COUNT: 8.6k (yeah, I'm REALLY sorry)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

IIII

The room is dim when you wake. It can’t be later than six o’clock, but the bed is empty, cold where he should be. The bedsheets rustle as you twist to read the green-lit clock on the bookshelf. Your face ticks in confusion at the numbers spelling out 9:09 a.m.

Must be a cloudy morning. Too bad I can’t see out this fucking frosted window, you grumble internally.

Sitting up, you pull the sheet a little tighter to your naked chest and squint at the bathroom door, bringing it into focus despite your sleep-laden eyes. It seems completely closed, but if Six is in there, he’s unusually quiet. 

You drop the sheet and leave the bed, looking for your clothes on the floor. On Six’s chair, a pile of material catches your eye. Your hand trails across the folded, new clothing; you pick up the top item, the tags still attached. A smile splits your face in two. He’d laid out a pair of plain white underwear, denim shorts, and a green t-shirt. You quickly locate your old bra and underwear and throw away the bottoms. You’re too uncomfortable without the support of a bra, so you put it back on despite its desperate need of a wash. 

Once clothed, you knock on the bathroom door but it swings open with the contact. It’s dark and unoccupied. A sudden wave of fear hits you and you take a step back. 

Where's Six? 

Irrationally, your mind taunts you: Did he leave me? Get what he wanted and cut his losses? A small sound escapes you at the intrusive thought, but you remember the way he had held you all night, the gentle yearning of his touch, the devotion in his sapphire eyes. You silence the unhelpful worries. No way. That’s not him.

Shit, shit, did something happen? Oh, my god, I hope he’s okay. The fears cycle through your mind. He’d never left without telling you before. Not back at the original safe house, not here, not ever. Unease settles in your chest like a virus.

It was evident he had left and come back this morning to bring you new clothing, but where was he now? You move into the bathroom, quickly flipping on the light to try to dispel some of the dread. You drop to your knees and begin feeling around the floor as grime and dirt pile along your fingertips. 

Oh, god, I bet it’s under this disgusting-ass flooring. 

You lean left to grip the rough edge of the linoleum where it lies underneath the sink. Pulling at the aged material, it comes up easily enough, and you’re rewarded by a discolored section of hardwood floor. The linoleum slips from your dirty fingers, and as you reach to grab it again, a loud crash booms behind you. 

The front door bangs open. You spin around, knocking yourself on your ass. Your heart fears it’s an intruder, but your brain expects it to be Six, mad at you for not hearing his knock. 

As the door swings wide, you’re faced with an unfamiliar man, clad in a blue patterned shirt and slacks, standing with a firearm in his right hand. It’s the first thing you see, but it’s not pointed at you. The man looks relaxed - happy, you notice. 

“Hey, doll. Been lookin’ everywhere for ya.” His voice is upbeat yet menacing.

“Whatcha doin’ to that floor?” He marches over to you, roughly grabbing your upper arm.

As his fingers dig into your flesh, you stare at the stumps where his little and ring fingers should be. He hoists you to your feet. You don’t even struggle as your brain tries to play catch-up. 

“Who- the fuck are you?” Your voice trembles despite your efforts to the contrary. Your heart is throbbing, painful aching in your veins; your worst nightmare is coming true.

“You haven’t heard of me?” He sounds surprised. “Well, isn’t that hilarious. Mr. Moral Compass has been keeping secrets from you.” He makes a mockingly sympathetic face.

“Where is he?” Your voice cracks and pain pricks in your eyes, your vision watering. You’re petrified of this man’s answer. 

To your great discomfort, the man laughs. It’s a terrifying laugh: somehow, all of his features seem warmed by his mirth, like he’s energized by your distress.

“That's supposed to be my line, buttercup.”

He makes a condescending gesture, “Someone saw you clomping around this hallway out here. Not very smart, are we? And wherever you are, Six is sure to be trailing like a sad puppy. But I’m not too worried about where he is right now; he’ll follow us, and that saves me quite a bit of effort. Not to mention bullets and bruises.”

It takes a second for his words to find you through the panic, but when they do, you’re nearly lightheaded with relief. You’d thought you managed and processed that first night well. It had given you confidence in your ability to persevere. But standing here, face-to-face with a man who seemed to know things you didn’t, who exuded the dangerous energy of a wild animal, you were frozen in fear. However, if Six was still out there, still okay, you had some hope. You had every hope in the world, in fact.

Six. Six, please. Please walk through that door. All your wits could offer was to repeat his name like a prayer.

“Let’s head on out, shall we? Car’s waiting.”

His grip on your arm tightens painfully, and you still don’t fight him. He steps toward the bed and, with a flourish, places a piece of paper on top of your pillow.

“MapQuest for 007,” he explains without explaining. 

You know you can’t win a physical fight with this much-larger, armed man, but the dam in you breaks as he pulls you toward the exterior hallway. You’re already leaning forward from the way he’s holding you, so you aim at your closest target. Your right fist slams just below the zipper on his slacks and he exhales with a yelp, doubling over. He recovers too quickly, though, and whirls you around, leveraging your throat with his forearm. He squeezes and wins a pained, high-pitched rasp from you.

“Do it again and I’ll leave your dead body for him to find instead of that paper,” he says through gritted teeth. 

You shiver and try to swallow, panicking when you can’t. He loosens his grip enough for you to shuffle along, and when he tries to walk you both through the door a second time, you let him. 

You were right, the sky outside was blanketed by wooly clouds threatening to let loose a deluge. The old city you’d holed up in was quiet for the time of day, and no one saw the well-dressed man toss you into a waiting black SUV. Your cheek smacks the faux-leather gray seat, and you push your arms underneath your body to reorient yourself. 

The air inside the vehicle is artificially cold and smells new. The pleather squeaks as the two armed men who had been waiting outside your room seat themselves on either side of you. You hadn’t seen them until the well-dressed man had dragged you from your shelter out into the sterile-looking hallway. It seemed to you that they were reasonably sure you were alone. There was no way he wouldn't have sent an entire team in if he’d thought the two of you were together, right? This man didn’t dress like it, but maybe he didn’t have the funds for a whole team. Six had mentioned to you once how expensive one mercenary could be, and the going rate for a whole group could feed a small country for a week. 

A thumb and forefinger pinch your nose, and your mouth drops open automatically. Your hands shoot upward to fight off whatever assault is beginning, but then the agent to your left pops something small into the back of your throat. You try to choke it out, but he had thrown it skillfully, and you accidentally swallow. You lurch forward violently as the driver accelerates. 

You gag but nothing comes up. Coughing, you ask, “What'd you give me?”

The kidnapper’s smooth voice answers you from the passenger seat, “The ineloquent call it the ‘date-rape drug’.” 

Utter fear shocks through your body at his blunt words. You’re a chemist, you know exactly what it is he gave you. 

He turns a little to face you, “Sugar, you look nervous. Don’t worry,” his voice is jovial, “This is a date, not a rape.” 

You shrink into your seat as best you can, trying to protect yourself. City blocks quickly turn into dilapidated housing, then farmland since Six’s safe house was close to the outer edge. You don’t know anything about the country you’re in, so memorizing the now-green scenery would be useless. Instead, you decide to evaluate and catalog the men next to you.

The man on your right is tall and tan. With his ironically trustworthy face, you would’ve never given him a second glance if you passed by him on the street. He’s holding what you believe to be a submachine gun, and a pistol butt pokes out of his waistband.

Your friend on the left is his friend’s polar opposite. This man makes you feel like the kidnapper does, and your hands shake just by looking at him out of your peripheral vision. His sharp, pale features keep anger at the forefront. His dark eyes, though rarely on you, twitch with menace. He’s carrying the same weapons as his partner, but you see an added hunting knife hanging from his black cargo pants. Unconsciously, your weight shifts to your right side, trying to put as much distance as you can, though, of course, you know the other man is truly no better.

Heavy exhaustion suddenly falls on you like an anvil. Lethargy places immense pressure on your limbs. Your world goes startlingly black for a second, then you realize you’ve closed your eyelids. You try to lift them, but it’s so difficult. Straining, you see a sliver of blurry light, but your eyes return to darkness. It feels like a weight is pressing on your chest - like Six did last night. Delirious, you half-smile at the recollection. Your head drops to the side with its own weight, and your final conscious thought is that you hope you fell to the right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Feeling more peaceful than he ever had in his life, Six had woken that morning on his side with your head on his right bicep. You were asleep facing him, your right calf sandwiched between his thighs, your hand curled on his chest. If he didn’t include every other time he looked at you, it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Six felt a sense of possessiveness surge through him; he was never going to let anything take you from him. If you wanted him, he would be there.

Six had never told a woman that he loved her. Certainly not romantically. He wasn’t completely confident in how it all worked, but he no longer wondered what it felt like. Six knew by the way he wanted to care for you as you did him. It was evident in the way he found himself pulling your favorite mug from the cabinet each morning before you’d even woken; it was evident in the way his body thrilled as he counted your not-so-sneaky glances at him. Six knew how powerful love was because he felt all other aspects of his life drop in priority to you. He didn't pretend to be good at it, but he couldn't stop himself from trying.

In a matter of excellent timing, you rolled away, tucking your head down and off his arm. He extricated himself from the bed, intending on performing a quick errand. He was incredibly energized; after yesterday’s long-awaited activities and then the full night’s sleep he’d gotten, he felt sure he could do anything. 

After showering, he located an old, plain black tracksuit set that he’d hidden years ago in the bathroom closet. It wasn’t exactly clean after all this time, but it wasn’t the disgusting shirt and pants from the past few days which was all he cared about.

He thought about leaving a note, but it was so dark outside that he knew you’d still be asleep when he returned. And also, he had no pen. Nimbly, he moved to your side of the bed where he carefully tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his feather-light touch never waking you. You sighed into his hand as it curved down your cheek, and he felt himself twitch at the familiarity. He quickly decided that he’d be keeping you in bed today; his high energy would be put to good use.

Six casually moved out onto the streets of the old world city. It was just past eight-thirty. The air was nice: warm and breezy, hinting at the coming storm. It wasn’t a bustling locale, but its population was large enough to provide some cover. Six’s furtive yet discreet searches around the area told him that all was well, so he trekked through the city to a store he knew supplied women’s clothing. He figured your old clothes were no longer suitable - he himself had torn them off in more ways than one - and he had nothing in his cache that would be practical for a woman. He was still cautious, still calculated. If he needed you to run, you couldn’t be tripping around in too-long pants.

The brightly lit store didn’t have much, so he purchased the first items he saw that best fit the summer weather, making no guesses as to your size since it was something he’d memorized for this exact situation. He thanked the shop clerk in his native tongue, then took a shortcut back to the room. 

He returned as the green numbers glowed exactly 9:00 a.m. to find you still sleeping as he had suspected. He laid the pieces on the chair and then moved to the kitchenette. His jaw set as he realized the food was entirely gone; there wasn’t any substantial meal to be eaten, and canned peaches weren’t going to satisfy the both of you. Grumbling, he took another survey to confirm your slumber, then exited once again, locking the door as he left. 

On his ten-minute jaunt to the corner store, Six felt uneasy. Now he believed the electricity in the air had nothing to do with the impending thunderstorm. He felt the breeze rustle through his blonde locks and tried to relax a little. He had a few - well, he couldn’t call them friends - in this general part of Europe, but only one lived in this area. He hoped the man hadn’t seen him; or you, considering the man might know about the situation. 

He’d run out of cash, and his nearest stash was about a four-hour drive away in Latvia, so he was forced to steal a loaf of bread and two chunks of meat. Six left his not-inexpensive watch as payment, but he regretted being forced to this level. He’d never stolen anything in his life (except the odd vehicle, those almost couldn’t be helped) and he hated it. He was paid well for his services; he never needed to steal. Every bit of decency he could afford, he performed. If you hadn’t been waiting, he would’ve contented himself with the peaches for the next few hours, but you were injured, and moving on to Latvia could wait one more night. 

His walk back from the store was circuitous by habit. He took two extra turns and an alleyway before opening the glass-paned door to the building. The room you two had been sharing was the very first on the ground floor, and something was horribly wrong.

Groceries fell to the floor, replaced instantly by his gun. He swept into the room, then the bathroom, already knowing you weren’t there. A sharp intake of breath sounded as he realized the linoleum had been disrupted. 

Thank God, you’d gotten into the safe room. 

He grunted as he pried open the heavy trapdoor, already beginning to tell you everything was okay, when the dusty hole gaped empty beneath him. The breath heaved out of him. He cursed loudly and slammed the door shut with such force that it reverberated throughout the lower floor. He spun around and his eyes snagged on the paper positioned on the pillow you’d occupied only moments earlier. He snatched it up.

 - Do you miss her like I miss my fingers? -

Below the handwritten taunt was an address. Six needed no further information - he sprinted out of the building and up the street.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Groggy and unsteady, your left eye opens a little before your right. Warm light streams from a small round window at the other end of the room. It’s dusty, and motes float about in the beams. Your hands chafe at the handcuffs, but the most uncomfortable aspect is the rickety chair you’re roped into. Your shoulders ache and your neck is pained at the position you’d been unconscious in. 

Fear rises in your throat, bubbling like lava in your chest. But it’s mutating with another emotion you’re not sure of just yet. You rock forward violently and shift the old chair forward a little, trying to move toward the window. The impact of your weight rattles the rafters, and you realize that endeavor is hopeless if you want to remain alone. You try to scoot, using your untied feet to pull you along, but the chair catches on a warped floorboard, and you’re left stuck.

Panting from the claustrophobic panic and the exertion, you begin taking some calming breaths you’d read about once for test anxiety. It helps, but then you hear the creaking of hinges as a trapdoor falls away a few feet from you. The ladder slides down smoothly, and moments later the head of a man appears. His fit, sweater-wearing body follows. He glares at you.

“You got bits of ceiling plaster on my sweater.” 

“What’s going on? What do you want me for?”

You expect him to say something about your job, to demand access to the research, to complete some of it yourself; maybe he wants you to oversee a project of their own. You have no idea and you’re not prepared for what he answers.

“I don’t want you at all, honey. Sorry, you’re not my type. I like women who don’t punch me in the dick.” He says testily. “No, I want your boy, and I want him to be sad. I had no idea you existed ‘til a friend snapped a few pictures of the two of you getting cozy.” 

He unfolds three photos from his back pocket. The first is through the large glass backdoor in your original safe house, the telephoto lens capturing Six’s hand nearly touching your lower back, your head turned to smile at him. A second photo was taken from a distance through a window, and it shows Six sitting on the couch beside you, talking. The man holds up a third photo, this one of the two of you outside, Six’s face glows with that reluctant smile he favors, though it's much larger than usual; facing away from you, he looks downright joyous at something you must’ve said or done. 

The emotion you’d had trouble naming finally identifies itself as you spit, “Fuck you.” 

The man backhands you hard enough to split your lip, but he doesn’t knock you over. Tears spring to your eyes instantly, and you yelp. The moment this man had stepped through your door, you’d done your best to prepare yourself for physical pain. You were still surprised, still shocked by it. 

The man crouches in front of you, his eyes level. Your upper lip curls into a snarl.

“I know Sierra Six. That man is a goody-two-shoes. Although, apparently he’s been lying to his lady love. See, I did do my homework: your employer’s security contract with Six ended a month ago. He’s been bunking with you because I sent him those photos the day before termination. If he stayed with you, I knew it was genuine.” He pauses, then jeers, “He doesn’t allow himself to get attached to people.” The man smiles, perfect teeth flashing behind pink lips as he waves the photographs, “But I found the one he has.”

Unable to fully comprehend what’s happening, you just stare. You’d been through quite a few emotions over the past twelve hours and the tumult in your head was raging. Your admittedly hands-off employers had never told you when the protection detail’s contract ended, they probably had just assumed Six would leave of his own accord. The house had been furnished with anything you would’ve needed so you’d kept on working, and your employers kept getting what they paid you for. As long as the status quo remained, no one would’ve questioned each other.

“So, you’ve got me here in this dry-ass attic because you don’t like Sierra Six?” Your confusion manifests with righteous anger. This man is using you, not for your brain, but to get to someone you care about.

He sharply raises his left hand as an example, “I fucking hate him, actually.

“Don’t your manicures cost less now?” You hiss venomously.

Your chair nearly tips when his hand connects once again with your face. You spit out blood, but you’re weak and it lands pitifully on your shirt. 

Your mouth already open, you ask one last question, ”And when Six comes for me… you’ll kill him?” You are still angry, but your worry over Six causes your voice to break.

“All part of the show, babe. I’m not monologuing to you.” He shrugs, smiling as if he wasn’t just monologuing to you. He stands and jogs forward-facing down the ladder. You hear his rich voice say something about a knife, and your body goes rigid. More pain. Your heart rate skyrockets and traitorous tears fall.

Calm down, get calm, I can’t be calm, just be calm, this is insane, deep breaths, it won’t help, you’ll be fine, your thoughts race uncontrollably. 

Stressed wood and hinges ring out from the ladder as he reappears with a switchblade. He squats and ties your ankles to the chair legs with little effort, despite your kicking. Then he pulls another chair from the far side of the attic to face you. 

“Oh, I’m Lloyd, by the way.” He grins as he slices at your already-injured leg. 

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Though he’d brought a comfortable chair, Lloyd didn’t stay long. He made a few cuts, watched you scream and squirm a little, but then his stomach had growled. He stood, wiped the bloody knife on your denim shorts, and folded the weapon as he left the attic. He made a little quip about letting bed bugs bite, and then the trapdoor squealed as it shut, as he left you in darkness. 

The window across the room is dark blue, now. You beg your mind to relive the previous sunset, but the pain in your wrists and your leg are agonizing. Lloyd had cut a shape into your leg, and you didn’t want to see it. You’d not looked as he worked, and you were unable to do so now. Maybe it’ll be gone by morning, you childishly wish.

Again and again, your mind returns to Six. As much as you may have had a right to be, you didn’t have the capacity to be upset with him. Certainly not right this moment, as all you wanted was to be secure in his arms, and it was unlikely you’d be too pissed later, either. Six was your friend. Sure, he was generally reserved, closed off - but those were his natural defenses, and it was impossible not to feel his sincerity, his regard. Six had stayed on without payment for an entire month. He’d asked for extra men, probably calling in a favor instead of offering a reward. Just because he wanted to protect you. If he’d felt it was best to keep the truth hidden, then the truth was probably best kept hidden. After all, the man was the best tactician around; even you knew he had a near-mythological reputation. 

Simply put, you trusted the man unequivocally. You just wished that he would both hurry and stay away. If this lunatic managed to kill Six by using you as bait, you weren’t sure you could live with the guilt. Six spent so much time walling himself off from everyone, and you’d purposefully broken down those defenses. Now you were both in danger. Six was all you had, all you’d wanted, and now that you had him you were about to lose him. 

You sat there as time slipped by, in the dark, crying, until your body exhausted itself.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

IIIII

A splitting headache wakes you. Your neck is screaming at the position it’s been in for hours, and you feel a little nauseous. The strong light from the round window allows you to clock the time at late afternoon, and you regret waking. Your body straightens when you realize that the sound of the trapdoor opening is what woke you. The sound sharpens and you tense, waiting for more pain. 

As expected, Lloyd’s face beams at you. Immediately, you’re on edge: if Lloyd is happy, you shouldn’t be. He finishes climbing the ladder, and when he does, he motions to someone else to come up.

“Guess who,” he raises his eyebrows conspiratorially. 

“No,” you plead. "No.”

“Mhm. ‘fraid so.” He couldn’t possibly smile wider.

A blonde head that you’d recognize anywhere materializes. He’s shoved by someone else you hate to see: the pale man on your left. The pale man looks terrible. His face is swollen and bloody. Since the ladder rises away from you, you don’t see the prisoner’s face until the pale man roughly turns him around, but you knew it would be Six. He’s slammed into his own rickety chair. His beard is sticky with blood, and a cut near his right eye oozes more blood. His black tracksuit is filthy and torn, and his hands are bound in front of him with zip ties. The instant he faces you, he holds your tearful gaze, and he winks. Your eyebrows constrict briefly in confusion, but you return to utter despair quickly. Lloyd was never going to let you go if he captured Six, and you’re pretty sure he never even offered that lie up to you. Now you were both going to watch each other die. Your chest heaves in sorrow.

“I’m sorry,” your voice is a hoarse whisper, but Six frowns and shakes his head. His attention is forced away from you, however, when Lloyd steps in front of him.

“Wow, Lloyd, you should’ve squeezed the CIA for a better patch job. You look like shit.”

Lloyd laughs, “Aw, don’t make me kill her already. I was just getting excited.”

“Did you do that to her face?” Six asks conversationally. 

“It wasn’t the only thing I did,” Lloyd answers suggestively. And though you can’t see his face, he grins at Six who barely keeps a leash on himself. He files that comment away for later fuel. 

Lloyd begins to speak, cajoling as Six flexes his jaw, his expressive eyes never leaving the threat. “The CIA didn’t ‘patch’ me up. They’ve pinned that whole … situation… on me. Rather unfairly, wouldn’t you say?” He doesn’t give Six time to answer before he continues, “I have other powerful friends who aren’t hunting me for war crimes. But they don’t matter. They support my little personal revenge mission, although they’re not funding it.” He holds up his hands, “Don’t be offended I didn’t send a whole squad after you, Six. I’m pretty depleted after all your shenanigans. But anyway!” He claps his hands, “Don’t you wanna know how I knew?” He sounds thrilled.

“A little birdy told you?”

“Your friend Denver. Now isn’t that just the worst? He sold you out. ‘Six has found himself a girl.’ His plan was to live that night, but hey, can’t win ‘em all, right?”

Lloyd moves to grab his chair, and you’re able to see Six’s reaction. His face doesn’t change, but you know those eyes. He’s not completely shocked, he can’t afford to be in his line of work, but you can see the betrayal, the sadness pooling there. 

Since he has line of sight on you, again, he takes advantage and the corner of his mouth quirks up quickly. The smile is gone before you’re even sure it existed - but that’s the second time he’s signaled you. Trying to keep me from panicking, as always, you reason. You give him an answering smile, but it’s sad, and he grunts in frustration.

Lloyd has his chair in hand, and he looks animatedly between the two of you - back and forth, back and forth, as if trying to choose. The pale man, still standing next to Six, laughs. Your disgust evident on your face, Lloyd makes his choice and sits directly in front of you. 

“Did you miss me, honey?” He purrs. You know from his tone that everything this man is about to do has one purpose: to twist a dagger into Six’s soul. 

“Didn’t really get a chance, asshole,” you pour every bit of rage and hatred you can into your voice. This man might break your body, but you’re pretty sure this level of anger will protect your mind. 

“Let me see that six.” He orders, which stops you right in your tracks.

“What?” You ask, perplexed.

“The six! The six I gave you.” His bottom lip pouts, “You didn’t even see what I gave you?” And he points at your thigh. 

Amidst the blood, you finally see the pattern he had carved into your leg. He hadn’t cut as deeply as your other wound, just deep enough to ensure scarring. 

“You said something about wanting a six, right?” He plays dumb. “If that one’s not big enough, here, I’ll do another.” He lifts the knife quickly and you start at the sudden violence. 

Behind him, you hear Six grunt, then an unfamiliar, more pained-sounding grunt. Lloyd doesn’t hesitate before he jumps behind your chair and sticks the knife against your neck. As he does so, you see the body of the pale man drop to the floor, his submachine gun in Six’s freed hands. Your chin tilts up as high as you can to avoid the blade.

“You brought a knife to a gunfight, Lloyd.” 

“Quite the party foul of me, huh?” Lloyd rejoins. “Oh, well. That’s where your bitch comes in handy.” 

Six doesn’t react. Lloyd's using you as a shield, but he is much larger than you. One good shot would knock him back enough that Six was confident he could reach you before Lloyd recovered. Six starts to squeeze the trigger when the knife leaves Lloyd’s hand, aimed directly at his heart.

Six bats away the shining switchblade with the gun, which sends him a little off balance. Lloyd uses his chance to rush Six. Like the football star he had been, he tackles Six to the floor. Six groans in pain as the wind is knocked from him, and a scream tears from you. At the last second, you remember that the other man in the car, the one on your right, was probably somewhere below. Surely he had heard the thumping, right? Why wasn’t he coming?

Six quickly gets the upper hand, kicking out from underneath the other man, smashing the gun into Lloyd’s face twice as he did so. Six is loath to shoot the man outright because he really wants to beat the shit out of him first. Lloyd gets to his feet at the same time Six does.

Frantically, you knock the chair over, and try to wiggle sideways towards the knife Six had hit. It was several feet away, very close to what now looked like a standoff. Six hears what you’re doing, and circles a little more to his right, putting himself between you and Lloyd. He thrusts the butt of the gun at Lloyd’s gut, but Lloyd grabs hold of it. Six immediately ejects the magazine faster than he’d ever made the move before. He releases his hold on the weapon, knowing it won’t make a difference. Lloyd gives him an eyebrow raise before tossing the gun down the ladder.

Your chair scrapes with every inch, but your desperation gets the knife into your right hand right as you hear the gun fall. You saw at the ropes around your body, then once free of that, you cut the flimsy material around your ankles. Unfortunately, you are still handcuffed to the chair’s armrest. Keeping the knife in hand, you lift the old chair and slam it against the floor, once, twice. Thinking better of that, you sit down and jam both heels on the underside of the armrest, hoping to force the slim piece from its spindles. That worked. Unfortunately, you are still handcuffed.

Six waits for Lloyd to swing first, and when he does, Six puts every play he’s ever learned into action. He swings haymaker after uppercut at Lloyd, most of them connecting viciously. Lloyd gets in several licks, but each time Six shakes it off with a growl. Hoping to shorten this dance, you hold up the knife, hoping it’s Six and not Lloyd who sees what you have to offer. They both notice.

As Lloyd starts to run at you, Six leaps forward, grabbing him around the throat by his forearm. He uses the momentum to slam Lloyd down to his knees. Lloyd twists and claws at him, but Six is stronger. To Lloyd’s endless consternation, Six has always been stronger. You gawk on in horror. You’d seen Six kill a man before, but this was different. This was personal, angry, justified. Six is silent as his arms strain, pressing every bit of strength he has into Lloyd’s windpipe. Lloyd is gagging, gurgling. It was terrible. 

“Go!” Six commands through gritted teeth, and though he wasn’t looking at you, you obey. You didn’t want to see this. 

You flee down the ladder, knife still in hand. Subconsciously, you take in your surroundings: a vacant, crumbling mansion. The white hallway was cracked, and moldy. No furniture could be seen. You could still hear Lloyd’s death throes above you, so you stumble along the hallway, desperate to end the nightmare.

Your right leg, so damaged, gives out and you hit the floor. You see stair railings a few feet away, but you can also see the attic entrance from where you fell, and you weren’t going anywhere without Six. So you drag yourself up against the wall and try to slow your labored breathing as you wait.

A few minutes later, a man dressed in black climbs down. Your heart pounds at the sight of the blonde hair. You stand, wobbling, and drop the knife. As he reaches you, he wraps an arm around you. His hand presses your head to his chest. 

“Let me see your hands.” 

You hold up your cuffs. He unlocks them with a small key you can only assume he got from one of the bodies upstairs. He nudges you forward, and you start down the hallway, then down the stairs. When you get to the bottom of the wooden steps, you see why the other man never came running. He lay bloody on the floor of the foyer. Six had killed him first. 

“Didn’t know where you were in this big old house, so I made my entrance known. Lloyd would take me wherever you were. Amateur.” 

Stepping around the body and out the front door, you hysterically giggle at the stolen car Six had parked normally. “You literally walked in the front door?” 

“Yeah.” 

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

IIIIII

Lloyd had taken you over the Latvian border by several hours, so while you were in the right country, you were still a couple of hours away from Six’s cache. As he drives, you curl up on the back seat, trying to relieve your sore muscles and your stinging leg.

It’s nearly midnight by the time Six pulls to the curb a block from his newest safe house. The streets were bustling with people enjoying their evening, and it wasn’t difficult to blend in. In the darkness, no one could make out your bloody leg, his bloody face. 

Six breaks the padlock off the abandoned-looking building’s side entrance, then steps inside, ensuring it was uninhabited. There’d been no actual threats to your life besides Lloyd Hansen, your company hiring Six as a precaution over rumors, but Six was never going to take a chance again when it came to you.

He ushers you through the door, then tucks you into his side as he opens another door. It’s pitch black, and you cling to his jacket. You hear the door shut behind you, then you hear the sound of his hand sliding along the wall trying to find the light switch.

He succeeds and the room is illuminated in warm, artificial light. It’s another ground-floor apartment, and it’s similar to the previous minus Six’s favorite wingback chair. He takes your hand and guides you into the bathroom where you see the biggest difference yet. The bathroom is clean, spacious, and it has both a bathtub and a shower.

“Capital cities have the best safe houses. More people to maintain them,” he replies to the question in your mind. “Strip.” 

Your head jerks up to look at him. He unzips his track jacket but leaves his pants. You pull the hem of your shirt over your head and drop the bloodstained fabric to the floor. Six crouches in front of you and unbuttons your shorts.

“I’m a professional,” he whispers, trying to lighten your wordless mood as he covers your new knife wound with his hand and pulls your shorts down. 

He takes your hand to balance you as you step out of the bottoms. As he touches you, he looks for a sign of disgust, fear, something that will break his heart but make sense after what you’d been through. 

He grabs a washcloth from the counter and wets it. He crouches in front of you again and begins softly cleaning the blood from your thigh, leaving a wide gap around the actual wound. 

You’re a little unsteady after the lack of nutrition and the stress your body has undergone the past day, but you steel yourself for a moment: you focus on not freaking out, not crying just yet in order to take stock. You watched him kill someone. How do I feel about that?

In your heart, you know that it doesn’t change anything you feel about him. Six killed bad men - always had, always would - and you’d known that when you met him. Your torso shakes, nearly hyperventilating. No, the worst is that you could’ve died, you could’ve watched him die. You collapse onto his shoulders, your arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry.” He says, the timbre of his voice letting you know that he means it for all that has occurred. For what Lloyd did to you physically and probably emotionally. For not telling you the truth, but mostly for putting you in the situation in the first place.

Too emotionally distraught to check the words thoroughly, you try to relieve his guilt: “’s not your fault someone loves you, Six.” 

Still not noticing your own words, you bury your face in his shoulder, and your tears fall freely. The noise he makes under his breath sounds affectionately amazed.

He stands, picking you up, and your legs wrap around him automatically. Your cuts are nearer the outside of your leg, but it still sends a jolt of pain down your limb when you use it to latch onto him. He sets your bottom on the countertop. One hand rubs your back while the other nestles into your hair. 

He knows you’re in shock, and he knows you didn’t mean to tell him you loved him like that. It’s good to hear, and he can’t help the sunrise in his heart, but his primary concern is consoling you. Or distracting you, if possible. Early in his career, he had learned that the best way to move forward was to stop overthinking. Distractions worked well for that.

“Shower or bath?” He asks.

He doesn’t have an ulterior motive, and you’re more than welcome to answer with neither. But in his mind, if it comes to it, he could try to make you forget today for a little while. You sniffle as you pick your head up off his shoulder to see his face.

He’s looking at you like you just saved him, and it’s somehow exactly what you needed.

“Shower.” 

You’d love nothing more than to be warm, bloodstain-free, and staring at Six naked. Without another word, he drops his pants and unclasps your bra. You push your underwear off. You latch around him again, and he carries you into the shower. You drop your legs and stand while he adjusts the temperature. The shower’s wide enough that you don’t feel the water at all as it warms up. 

As the water begins to steam, Six looks over at you and holds his hand out, palm up. A smile touches your lips and he answers with his own as he pulls you to him underneath the showerhead. His hair soaks instantly. He rotates so your hair can rinse free of all the shit it had gone through in the last week.

Six takes a clean, soapy washcloth and stoops to finish cleaning your leg. He tries to ignore the shape that those cuts are in, but it’s still torturing him. He’d tried to forget it the moment after the words had left Lloyd’s mouth, but now he was face-to-face with the physical consequences of his feelings for you. He straightens up and lets the water get the rest of the blood. 

You watch as his expression twists, and he won’t meet your eyes. 

“They’re shallow. They’ll heal.”

“Yeah, right into my fucking name.” He begins washing himself as a means to avoid your face.

“It’s not your name." You cup your hand to his cheek. "Hey, ‘Six’ is not your name. Those marks will heal, and even if I’m still able to see the number, it doesn’t bother me.” Your voice rises with each word. You’re trying to tell him that it’ll be an incidental scar, and even if it mattered, it’s the pseudonym of the man who rescued you.

His stormy eyes meet yours finally, skepticism clouding them. “It doesn’t matter to you that you were tortured and permanently scarred," his voice acerbic, "because of me?”

“It does matter, but it wasn’t because of you, Six. It was because that guy was insane. He was unstable. He hated you and I was useful.” You're pleading with him to hear you. Your hand slides up from his cheek into his drenched hair. 

You decide to gamble a joke, “Always wanted a man’s name tattooed on me, anyway.” 

Your eyes shine up at him fervently, hoping the joke corroborates your apathy over the wound. Because that really didn’t matter to you. The physical scars were nothing - they would heal without issue. If anything, you worried about being separated from Six. How would you ever feel safe without him again? 

Your gamble works. He snorts and leans his forehead to yours. Stray water droplets collect in his facial hair. 

“But you’re right, that’s not my name,” he murmurs, then carefully presses his lips to yours. He’s gentle, but pain issues forth from your split skin, anyway. You flinch slightly, and Six murmurs, "Sorry."

Angry at the reminder, you decide you’re not letting Lloyd take any more seconds of your life, so you deepen the kiss. Your lips part to allow him in, and at the first touch of his tongue, a spark of tension flares.

He hums deep in his chest at your enthusiasm, your reassurance. Six’s right hand curves around the back of your upper thigh, underneath your ass, and he half-lifts/half-pushes you into the icy wall of the shower. You hiss in surprise, but his warm body follows with a grunt a split-second later, and you’re no longer thinking of anything but him. 

Your hand drops to stroke his velvet length against your thigh, and Six’s groaning mouth leaves yours to trail along your jaw and drops to the hollow he knows you love. His hands caress your curves, one hand traveling to grasp your breast as the other hand slides between your legs.

You gasp as the friction of his rough palm, then his fingers, send a jolt right to that coil in your stomach. He squeezes your breast gently, and his thumb rolls over your nipple as Six drops to his knees. 

“You don’t have to -” you start, but change your mind instantly as you appreciate Six below you: his hair drips into his profoundly blue eyes; water runs down his well-defined body, and his thighs flex as he shifts closer to you and sits back on his heels. His large hands wrap around your hips. You feel your breath hitch as he angles forward and his breath touches your tender skin a moment before his heated mouth. His tongue flattens against you before flicking at the perfect pace; he alternates between the two patterns. The heat floods through you in a deluge - your eyes slam shut, your head rolls back, and when your stomach constricts, your legs go weak.

He makes a pleased guttural sound that vibrates into your skin, and he plants one firm arm upward along the inside of your hip, his hand on your ribs, to keep you upright. His other hand on your hip welds you firmly to him. Your cries of pleasure echo in the space, and he feels himself growing painfully hard. 

Your body having been stretched to its limits in so many ways means the euphoria you feel now has you coming easily. Six feels the tension in you splinter, feels the shuddering in your legs. The pride it gives him is unmatched as he holds you still. You moan into the steamy air, and he knows could do this forever.

He continues at the same pace, but in a moment of lucidity, you miss him against you. You pull at his shoulder, and he obliges, standing. His right hand grasps the underside of your knee, palm on the outside of your leg, and he fits himself right against you. You can feel him twitch with expectation. An aftershock of your first orgasm ripples through you, and has you clenching around nothing. You shiver, already anticipating how good he will feel. 

“Please, Si-” you beg him, unnecessarily.

He makes a sudden decision, cutting you off, “It’s Court.”

Your eyes fly up to his. But before you have a chance to speak, he steadily shifts up into you. His quiet groan is punctuated by your gasps. His eyes close involuntarily at your tight warmth. Your nails dig into his biceps where you’d braced yourself. The stretch hurts a little this time, but you're too satisfied with the closeness to care. Relishing the unique intimacy of being inside you, he skims one hand down your side before he drags himself unhurriedly out, and thrusts back in. 

He begins to slowly increase his rhythm, and with each incredible entrance, you both let the sounds spill out from your mouths uninhibited. Before long he is driving into you so unrelentingly that all you can do is hang onto him. He never neglects your lips for a second, his deep, messy kiss the only thing keeping you sane. You feel white-hot; it’s nearly painful, but it’s so good.

Tears leak down your face. His left hand cups your cheek, thumb swiping away the salty liquid. He can see you’re about to snap once again by the way your face pinches, then begins to unwind underneath his hand. He drops his hand to work you over further. He never knew life could be so sweet. Reserved, isolated his entire adult life, he knows that he’s never going to be happy if he’s not coming home to this. 

“Don’t say Six,” he begs. It’s never mattered to him before. He was the same person no matter what anyone referred to him as. But he wanted you to know, to have the purest version of himself. The version no one else had.

He looks down into your eyes as he asks, and when the understanding hits you, it’s the final nail in your coffin. A sob echoes in the small room as your walls constrict around him, fluttering. He revels in the image of you falling apart against him.

He kisses you again, then lets his lips hang open over yours as you both breathe heavily from the wicked roll of his hips. He’s blurry through your tears, and you blink a little to better understand what you just saw flashing in his eyes. What you’d seen there two days earlier, too. He loves you, your mind supplies unasked.

Court’s rhythm changes to deep, passionate thrusts as he tries to bury himself in you. His desperate grunts send aftershocks throughout your thighs. He’d never stop if his body would allow it. He gradually slows his movements, still working you through your own high. He finishes with a low, animalistic noise and closes the small gap between your mouths. Neither of you move, panting.

You look up at him through your lashes, your eyes full of tears at the emotion between you two. He kisses you, hard - full of everything he'd wanted to say for months. After several moments, he lets go of your leg, and removes himself from you.

Unwilling to stop touching you, though, he takes you by the hand as he exits the shower. You twist the knob to shut it off as you walk by. 

He wraps an old, gray towel around his waist, and hands one to you. You squish your hair, then wrap it around your chest. He’s quiet, uncomfortable for some reason, so you take his hand again, and back him up against the counter. He barks a reluctant, low laugh at you pretending to be able to keep him pinned. He rests his hands on your waist.

“Why are you sad?” You ask bluntly.

“I’m not the one who was just crying,” he deflects with a quip. 

You raise your eyebrows and frown at him. 

Remembering that he wanted you to know him, he cautiously answers in a halting undertone, “I would like a calm life.” He stops, thinking. “Maybe with you...”

It's almost a question, and he doesn’t say what he means exactly, but you understand. You're his chance at a normal life. A happy life.

“Maybe not a calm life, no, but you could have me.” You phrase it as a potential, though it’s not one. He’s had you wrapped around his finger for months. You'd do anything if your reward was this man.

His face doesn’t change, so you try again, “You already have me; so, it’d be nice if you’d accept it.” 

“Oh, I don’t even get a choice, now?” He smirks faintly, his thumbs rubbing along your hips through the thin towel.

“I don’t think I’ll ever feel happy without you,” you confess your earlier thought. Your hand traces over the tattoo on his chest. “I know I wouldn't feel safe."

He sighs heavily. “I can’t say nothing will ever happen,” he says honestly, “but I can promise I'll be there." He pauses, trying to figure out how to express himself. "If you want me, then-"

“I always want you, Court.”

You cut him off, speaking his name for the first time. When when he smiles, it finally touches his eyes. His grip tightens on your waist. He's contemplative for a moment as his look turns mischievous.

He lowers his voice, “About that book you tried to kill me with: I think I remember a page or two -” he breaks off as he bends faster than you’re capable of reacting to, and throws you expertly over his shoulder, smiling at your laughing shriek.

[onsunnyside]

Boyfriend’s dad!Lloyd where he becomes obsessed with his son’s girlfriend and he always tries to get her alone. He is always being touchy and flirty with her, one day he just snaps and he gets his alone time with reader, she’s hesitant at first and a bit scared bc Mr.Hansen makes her feel something she’s never felt before not even with her own bf. She gives in and Mr. Hansen takes her up to his room but leave the door open a crack (he wants the son to catch them) They start getting it on 😈 and they don’t hear the bf/son get home and they are LOUD!!! (He’s is a NASTY dirty talker) So the son obviously hears them, he catches them. Lloyd doesn’t stop fucking the reader, the son gets cucked and the reader gets a new daddy/boyfriend that spoils her and treats her better that the cunt of a boyfriend of hers (Lloyd’s words).

❤️‍🔥 𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐱 𝐇𝐢𝐦 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Not the whore in me thinking about: 

boyfriend’s stepdad!Lloyd fucking you from behind in his bed just as your boyfriend & his stepson!Ransom walks in, still fuming from your earlier argument bc he noticed his stepfather being overly touchy and friendly with you, “If you’re gonna let him touch you like that, might as well fuck him too!” is what he said before storming out. 

And now seeing you getting pounded by said older moustached man, he curses you both out and leaves the house just after Lloyd says “Taking notes, Ransom? This is how you treat a little princess like her, fucking her cunt until she can’t think, and just turns into a little dumb crybaby. Tell me, does she let you do it bare? Or is she just that desperate for a real man?”

Now… does your bf ransom return ?? 😳 are we really going into that territory aka the deepest pits of hell and drowning in taboo ?? 

(uh, no cuckolding blood-related relatives here ofc)

[gracescor3]

Hello, my name is Grace and I am a fanfiction writer. I am new to writing and I kind of enjoy it when I have time to do it.

The Umbrella academy

Diego Hargreeves

Klaus Hargreeves

Viktor Hargreeves (Platonic)

Five Hargreeves (NO SMUT)

Klaus x Dave

Alison Hargreeves (Platonic)

Ben Hargreeves (Any season)

Marvel

Tony Stark’s daughter x Character

Bucky Barnes

Steve Rogers

Loki Laufeyson

Thor Odinson (Platonic)

Loki x Mobius (No smut)

Stucky

Sam Wilson (Platonic)

Rebelde (Translated in English)

Andi Agosti

Rebelde x you

Other Characters I write for

Micheal Bryce (Ryan Reynolds)

Nolan Booth (Ryan Reynolds)

Adult!Adam Reed (Ryan Reynolds)

Courtland Gentry!Six (Ryan Gosling)

Lloyd Hansen (Chris Evans)

Steve Kemp (Sebastian Stan)

Jack Sparrow (Johnny depp) (NO SMUT)

Ledger!Joker (Heath Ledger)

AUs I write for (So far)

Mafia!Stucky

Dark!Stucky

SD/SDBF!Stucky

SDBF!Bucky

Secret Relationship!Any character listed

Secret admire!Any character listed

Avengers!Bucky/Steve

Tattoo Artist!Bucky/Steve

Rape ; Underage Sex ; Piss ; Scat ; Being used as human bathroom ; Abusive Bucky/Steve/Any Character unless it’s past abuse from someone else; Pedophilia ; Pederast ; Blood Related Incest ; Suicide ; Self Harm ; (More may be added)

My request are open!

Please be 18+ only on certain posts others can be 16+ (I will put warnings)

[abbatoirablaze]

Big Bad Wolf, Lloyd Hansen

Word Count:  1.5k

Warnings:  implied smut, soft dark Lloyd, implied cheating, dad's best friend, ruined marriage

“Mr. Hansen?” you asked as you opened the door to the house.  A shiver ran down your spine when you didn’t hear an answer.  Your frown only deepened when you saw the house was more trashed than normal.  Making your way up the stairs, you stopped when you saw the door half-open, Lloyd laying in a pile of blankets on the floor, “Mr. Hansen?”

“Didn’t you hear, sweetpea?” he croaked, shooting you a look, “I’m the big bad wolf.  You shouldn’t be near me.”

You frowned, having heard a few of the comments that Suzanne spewed to some neighbors on the next street over when you were jogging a few weeks prior.  She claimed that Lloyd was a horrible husband, comparable only to the big bad wolf.  She called him a predator, saying that he chewed people up and spat them out.  She claimed that he took all of her best years and gave her nothing in return. 

“Mr. Hansen…”

“Sweetheart, you’ve known me since I moved here and you’re nineteen…you can call me Lloyd…I’m not Mr. Hansen…”

“I call all of you that,” you reminded him gently, sitting down on the carpet in front of him, “Mr. Hansen.  Mr. Barnes.  Mr. Weiss.  Mr. Levinson.  Even Mr. Barber, and I’m dating Jacob.  Do you know how many times I’ve been told to call them by their first names?”

“It’s different.” He said simply. 

“It’s not, Mr. Hansen.”

“You should leave, sweet pea,” he groaned, pushing himself to his other side.  You frowned and rubbed his back softly, “please, don’t touch me honey…”

“I’m going to get to work downstairs,” you sighed, removing your hand from him.  You pushed yourself up off the carpet and reached for the door, “I’ll be up in twenty minutes to do your laundry for you, Mr. Hansen…I’ll bring up some fresh sheets from the linen closet and strip the bed…”

“You don’t have to take care of me, pumpkin.”

“I’ll be back in twenty minutes, Mr. Hansen.”

You looked to the house that was directly across the circled drive from you. 

Mr. Hansen stood at the door, his jaw clenched, and his face tear-stained, while his wife, Suzanne glared at you.  The door to the moving van slammed shut, and her glare seemed to penetrate your soul. 

You frowned.

Suzanne Hansen had hated you with a passion ever since her and her husband Lloyd moved into your quaint little neighborhood nearly three years ago.  You didn’t know why she hated you, but it was the one sure thing you knew about the authoritative alpha female who worked for the CIA. 

You got along with all the other wives in the neighborhood, but not her.  Then again, that was when they were all around.  Suzanne seemed to hate you with the most intense nature that you’d ever known, without a rhyme or reason. 

The first to leave was your mother.  Just a few years after you’d moved into the neighborhood, and she’d succumbed to the curse.  Your older neighbor, Mr. Dunham told your parents when they first moved in that your little suburban slice of heaven was notorious for breaking up couples, but your parents didn’t listen to his warning.  And sure enough, when you were four, she left, running off with a financial advisor that moved her to Paris. 

From there, you’d clung to Mrs. Levinson.  She was like your second mother, and you got along with her two daughters.  They were like your sisters.  You knew that they were never going to stay.  Your two best friends would tell you all the time that when their dad retired, they were planning on going ‘home’ to Israel, but when Ari retired, he said he wanted to stay in the states.  Mrs. Levinson agreed to disagree and asked for a divorce and went home.  You went from having Challah delivered to your doorstep on Thursday nights to sitting at a dining room table that was too large while Mr. Levinson and your dad burned more dinners than you could count. 

Next came Mrs. Barnes.  She was one that you really hoped would break the curse.  She taught you about how to be independent, and how to never depend on a man.  She taught you how to cook, and even got you interested in running.  But the retired S.H.I.E.L.D agent broke the super soldier’s heart, running off with his best friend, Steve Rogers, making a third man present at your dining table a few times a week. 

By the time you managed to befriend Laurie Barber you were becoming a pre-teen and finding your first love in Jacob Barber.  Laurie became the third instance of a mother figure towards you, giving you not only the birds and the bees talk, but also teaching you everything you needed to know about going from a child to a woman.  But when you were fourteen, she was out the door, taking Jacob with her to an apartment in the city that Andy footed the bill for.  It was two months after the divorce was finalized that Mr. Hansen had done some digging and found out that the apartment, he was footing the bill for had her assistant in it…Laurie had been cheating on Andy for years, and finally had the courage to leave him.

And then came Mrs. Weiss.  She was nice, she really was, but she was one that you gladly waited for the curse to claim.  She was always complaining about Mike, and how he needed to get his head out of the clouds and take on a real case instead of trying to fight for this one that dealt with needles.  He’d spent nearly all of his time on it over the past few years, and his partners were helping keep him afloat.  A week after she left, he won his case, and refused to take her back. 

Which is what led you to today.  Suzanne had claimed that Lloyd was a horrible human being and was divorcing him.  Today was moving out day; something you were familiar with.  And your dad, well, he was best friends with all of the men.  Mike Weiss, an attorney, Andy Barber, the ADA, Bucky Barnes, super-soldier extraordinaire, Ari Levinson, retired mossadi agent, and Lloyd Hansen, a government contractor.  Each man, just as important as the last had found a bond in your little neighborhood.  And they all had one thing in common. 

In some way or another their wives had left. 

You watched as Lloyd went back into his house, not bothering to watch the van leave. 

It was four days until you saw him again. And things had changed quicker than you could have ever imagined in just the twenty minutes it took to come back up to his door to make the bed.

“Well sweetheart, you wanted to be in bed with the big, bad wolf…” Lloyd purred huskily, staring down at you.  Your heart jumped up into your throat, making it hard to swallow as you felt his growing erection pressing against your hip, “your next words better be said carefully…because I do bite…”

You whimpered, your thighs clenching impossibly tight at the thought. You knew it was wrong.  You knew you shouldn’t have put yourself in this position. 

Hell, your boyfriend had moved in with his dad and lived right next door to the house you were currently in.  Had Lloyd’s curtains been open, you knew for a fact you could see into Jacob’s room. 

But none of that mattered.

You’d had a crush on Lloyd ever since you started cleaning his house weekly when you were sixteen.  Your heart fluttered as you looked into his lust-blown eyes.

He gave you a smile, one that showed every one of his pearly whites.  His hand caressed the column of your throat before settling at the base of your neck, “is this what you want, sweetheart?  You want the big bad wolf to eat you up?”

“God yes!”

The words had slipped out before you thought any better.  And his grip tightened enough to slow the oxygen from getting to your brain.  Your heart raced so loud; you could hear the blood pumping in your ears. 

“Lloyd.”

His eyes fluttered closed, long lashes dancing along his flushed cheeks.  You felt your core clench around nothing, wishing that he’d already used the erection he’d been grinding against you since you started helping him make the bed.

“God, I love it when you say my name, princess,” he purred, leaning in until your lips were almost touching, “say it again, baby.”

“Lloyd.”

He growled, and his grip tightened just a little bit more.  You gasped against the kiss as he stole the air from your lungs.  And the only thing you could think of was how just a week ago, your life was entirely different. 

Lloyd had been married. 

Just as every other man on your block was. 

But Suzanne Hansen succumbed to the same curse that every other wife did in your little neighborhood, leaving Mr. Hansen a divorcee with all the time in the world.    And you had never been more grateful than you were now as Lloyd’s throbbing cock grinded against your soaked shorts. 

[holylulusworld]

TOL - Like a virgin (1) - Bucky Barnes

Summary: You need money. Hansen’s agency offers the right kind of trade.

Pairing: DBF!Bucky Barnes x Virgin!Reader

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, unnamed other reader (Hansen’s girl)

Warnings: money problems, sex for money, selling your virginity, blindfolding, sex with a stranger, groping, oral (fem rec), fingering, teasing, dirty talk, loss of virginity, slow sex, smut, unprotected sex, possessive Bucky, undefined age gap, dad’s best friend trope, Lloyd being Lloyd, language, mentions of past death of a loved one, fluff

A/N: This story is part of my: Traders of love (lust) masterlist

A/N2: It's also a request fill for my 16.666 followers celebration masterlist. Sorry, this took me so long. I'm working on all the requests left for this celebration.

Words: 3,9 k

“Do you know what you get yourself into if you sign this contract?” Lloyd Hansen, the devil with blue eyes asks.

“I need to money and uh…I tried anything else. I worked my ass off and even sold my car. It’s no use,” you exhale deeply to calm your racing heart. “The debts are eating me alive, and the only thing left that I could sell is my…virginity.”

He watches you squirm in your seat, amused, and aroused at the same time. “Aw, you’re a cute little cupcake. I’d love to have a taste of you myself, but I don’t shit where I eat – you know.”

Lloyd cocks a brow when you reread the standard contract he handed to you. “So, you will put me on your website and your customers will buy me?” You blink a few times to not cry. This feels so surreal and wrong. How did you stoop so low that you sold your body to a stranger?

“Kinda,” Lloyd gets up from his chair to show you his iPad. “We don’t sell you off to a random douche. I don’t want a cute muffin like you to end up under a sick bastard. All my clients are gentlemen.”

You nod slowly and try to remember every detail he tells you. “Okay.”

“You can choose ten out of my clients and, if you want to, a wild card.” Lloyd hands you the tablet. “If you choose only ten out of my clients one of them will have the honor to fuck you first.”

You fight the urge to scrunch your nose up. “What’s the wild card?” You look up from the iPad to meet Lloyd’s eyes.

“If you choose ten men and the wild card, you will get more money,” he explains. “The start offering will be one million dollars. You’ll get six hundred thousand dollars, and I’ll arrange everything for your safety.”

You gasp loudly. This amount of money would save you and allow you to live a better life. You don’t care Lloyd will have almost half of the money. He provides the hotel suite and will make sure that you’ll come home safely.

“The men will attend an online auction. They will bid on you. If you get lucky, they will pay more than one million bucks.”

“Wow!” You exclaim. Even if it’s the worst thing you’ll ever do, this arrangement will help move on from your past and pay your debts.

“Now, I’ll tell you about the wild card,” Lloyd sits next to you. “The wild card is special. You cannot choose this man, but you’ll get two hundred and fifty thousand bucks more. No matter who wins the auction. You’ll get eight hundred and fifty thousand bucks.”

“He’s not a creep, right? I don’t want my first time to be with someone hurting me or ignoring my safe word,” you wring your hands.

“The wild cards are my special clients. These men have my trust, sweetness,” Lloyd says. “The inner circle of my organization. It consists of ten men. You will find none of them in my files.”

“I could need the extra money,” you ponder. “You promise that they are not crazy or shit?”

“I’m the craziest guy in this organization,” he flashes you a smile. “And you are not scared of me, right?”

“You’re intimidating,” you shyly admit as you glance at Lloyd. “But you didn’t hurt me or scare me. You were nice.”

“Hah, did ya hear that, sunshine?” Lloyd yells, making you flinch. The door immediately flies open, and his assistant walks inside. “See, she thinks I’m nice.”

“Yeah, because she doesn’t know you like I do,” she puts her hands on her hips and glares at Lloyd. “Sweetie don’t let him talk you into this wild card shit. His buddies are the worst, and he’s the king of shit!”

“Darling don’t be rude,” he gets up to wrap his arms around her waistline. She squirms in his hold, giggling while pushing against his shoulders. “Give your man a kiss.”

“Not until you get rid of that mustache!”

“You love the mustache. It makes your clit all tingly when I go down on you,” he steals a kiss, and gropes her plump ass. “If not for my new client, I’d fuck you right here and now to put a little Lloyd inside of you.”

“You’ll take care of the sweet girl first. You better not pressure her into this shit,” she grunts and pushes Lloyd off her. “I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

She walks back outside and closes the door with a loud thud.

“A hell of a woman,” he hums and adjusts his pants. “I found her—” Lloyd clears his throat. “Never mind. That’s a story to tell later.”

“Can you tell me what the men will expect? I mean, aside from having sex with me.”

Lloyd smirks. “You don’t have to worry about kinky shit. The contract includes vaginal sex  - missionary, or doggy style. Maybe a blow job. Protection is a must. If you want it to be pleasurable for you too, play with your pussy, or think of something nice.”

“I’d imagine Bucky,” you blur out. “I—fuck.” You curse when Lloyd cocks a brow. “He’s my dad’s best friend, and a little older than me. Not a gramps or something.”

“Bucky, huh?” He nods thoughtfully. “That’s an interesting name.”

“It’s a nickname,” you hastily say. “His real name is James Buchanan Barnes.” You swoon now. “He never looked at me twice, but if I want to get off, I always imagine him.”

“As long as you don’t moan his name, I don’t care what you do to get into the mood,” Lloyd says, but there’s something in his eyes you can’t quite put a finger on. “Back to the options. Wild card yes or no?”

You look at the iPad again. What is one more stranger, right? “Yes.”

“Barnes,” Lloyd grins like the devil. “Hey, no swear words, sunshine. I got a nice little deal for you.” He grunts and mutters into the phone. “Would you just listen for a moment? A nice little bird came to me. I think you know her…”

“Y/N!” Your dad’s best friend jogs next to you. “Hey, long time no see.”

“Uh-hi,” you squeak when he wraps you in a hug. “Nice to see you, Bucky.”

“How have you been?” He releases you to lock you up and down. “You look a little stressed. Is everything alright? You know that you can always come to me. I’m like an uncle to you.”

“Uncle,” you wrinkle your nose. “Right.” You shake your head at the naughty thoughts wanting to force their way to the front of your mind. “I’m good. Really. Nothing to worry about.”

“You sure?” He presses on. “If you are scared to tell your dad, tell me. I won’t say a thing.”

“I said that I’m fine,” you snap at him as a woman gets out of his car and calls his name. “How about you go back to your arm candy and leave me alone? We haven’t heard of you for two years.”

You twirl around and storm off. You don’t need anyone to help you. Lloyd offered more money than you’ll need to pay the debts your dad left you when he passed away.

Bucky didn’t even know about it because he just doesn’t care…

“Pumpkin,” Lloyd claps his hands as you walk inside the expensive penthouse suite. “You look stunning.” He grins as you squirm under his gaze.

He walks toward you to hand you the iPad. “The wild card won the auction,” he casually says. “I transferred the town hundred and fifty thousand bucks to your bank account. This is the point of no return. If you want out, say it now.”

“I know,” you released a shuddery breath. “I don’t want to do this, but I need the money. It’s one night with a guy you trust. So…let’s get this over with.”

“On the bed is something the wild card got for you. OH, and he wants you to put the blindfold on. It’s his special request,” Lloyd gently pats your shoulder. “I promise he’s a good guy, and won’t hurt you, pumpkin. Just remember the only two rules. Never ask why they pay you for sex, and, never let them do anything you don’t want to.”

“Thank you—” you close your eyes and take deep breaths. “I can do this. Please leave me alone now. I need to get ready.”

“If he crosses a line,” Lloyd says. “You say Lloyd, and I take the door down.”

“What? I don’t understand.” You furrow your brows.

“Just say Lloyd.” He whispers in your ear.

“Lloyd,” you say, and the lights in the room turn red. An alarm shrills and you need to cover your ears. “Oh…wow.”

“See, I take care of my girls. Do not let him gag you, though,” he warns. “If he tries anything you don’t agree to, yell my name and I’m there in a split-second.”

You nod and give Lloyd a shy smile. “Thank you.”

“I make money with my girls. I don’t want them to get hurt or worse,” he says. “I’m not a saint or a good guy. But no one hurts my girls.”

You watch him leave the room and release another shuddery breath.

He’s right. This is it. The point of no return…

The gift from the wild card is a silky nightie dress in your favorite color. Midnight blue. It has a plunging back and lace-lined cups. It fits you like a second skin.

You close your eyes and count to ten to calm your racing heart as you put the blindfold on. It’s the wild card’s special wish, and you don’t want to piss him off right away.

Maybe the blindfold will make things easier. You can imagine any face, while the stranger is inside of you.

“You look breathtakingly beautiful.” You shudder as his voice is deep and rough. He entered the room without making a noise, and now he’s already so close you feel his breath fan over your neck. “I see you are wearing my gift.”

“Yes…Sir…” You breathlessly reply. His hands ghost over your arms, touching you gently. “Or do you want me to call you something else?”

“Hmm…” He hums. “We will see, doll.” You whimper at the pet name. “Can I call you doll? Is that alright with you?” His lips press against your neck, he nips at the sensitive spot behind your ear. “I need you to answer me.”

“Yeah, that’s alright with me,” you are already enchanted by the stranger. His scent is intoxicating, and his voice goes straight to your core.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, doll,” he wraps one arm around your waistline to bring you close to his body. His chest is bare, and you feel his skin pressed against yours. “I dreamed of doing this with you.”

“You did?” You purr and lean your head against his shoulder. “What do you want to do with me?”

“You’ll see,” he chuckles as you press your butt into his crotch. “You’re eager to get me going, huh? Don’t worry. I’m already so hard for you it hurts.”

He releases you and steps away to admire your wrecked state. You’re a panting mess, and your legs quiver. “Beautiful and so responsive.” He’s back on you to slide the thin straps of the nightie down your shoulders. The stranger nips at your neck, leaving little love bites on his way. “I can’t wait to have you.”

“You have me,” you move your hand behind you, blindly grasping for his hair. He’s a stranger but feels so good against you. “I want you to have me.”

“I know, doll,” he whispers in your ear while shoving the nightie down your shoulders. The fabric drops to the ground and pools around your ankles. “I love how you feel against me. I bet you feel even better around me.”

His hands cup your breasts. One warm and soft, the other cold and a little rougher. He gropes your soft flesh and pinches your nipples. This stranger plays with your body and pulls all the right strings.

You don’t have to imagine someone else. His lips nipping at your earlobe, and his hands, those skilled tools press moans and whimpers out of you. “Sir…”

“It’s alright, doll. Be as vocal as you want to,” he smirks against your skin. “Relax and let me take good care of you.”

“Yes—” you hiss when he meaningly tugs at your nipples. “Ouch.”

“You are a big girl and can take it, baby doll,” he grinds into you to rub his aching cock against your butt. “I bet your pretty cunt is wet for me.”

Your voice fails. He’s moving one hand between your legs and pinches your clit through your soaked panties. “I knew it.” He teasingly pinches your clit, igniting another spark deep within you. “You’re mine now. Only mine. After tonight, you’ll never want another man. Say it!”

His other hand rips your panties off of your body, taking you by surprise. You squeak and giggle as he twirls you around. “You’re all I imagined you’d be,” he cups your face and presses his lips to yours.

You’ve been kissed before – but not like this. His lips are soft and tender, but the kiss gets heated when his hands move to your ass to hoist you up.

You end up in his arms and sling your legs and arms around his body out of instinct.

“Your lips taste like heaven.” He purrs while walking toward the bed. “I bet your sweet pussy tastes like sin.” You end up on the soft mattress, the stranger on top of you.

He kisses you again, slowly, and sensually this time. “I’m gotta have a taste, doll.” You wish you could watch him kiss his way down your body. It feels like his lips and hands caress every inch of your body they can reach. “It’s alright. You don’t have to be afraid.”

The stranger moves lower, kissing you right above your belly button. He moans against your skin, making you shiver at the slightest touch.

His hands move over your thighs, spreading them wide so he can settle between your legs.

“Let me have a taste of heaven,” he presses a searing kiss to your pussy. “I’ve got you, doll.”

You shudder feelings his nose brushes your clit. “So pretty down here too,” he murmurs against you. His breath tickles your folds, leaving you wanting more. “Shhh…” He shushes you. “I only want to eat this sweet cunt out.”

He spreads your pussy lips, to look at your clit. “Ah…S-ir.” You stammer. “What are you doing?”

“Did no man ever put his mouth on you?” He looks up at you from between your legs, groaning loudly when you shake your head. “Good. I’m your first for everything then.”

Your mouth falls open. Why would he want to do such a thing? Isn’t this night all about him, not you? “Why?”

“I love eating pussy, doll,” he laughs. “And I want you slippery wet so I can shove my dick right into your tight little hole.”

You grab your tits, squeezing your flesh to do anything but lie there and wait for the stranger to rule your body.

He teases your pearl with the tip of his tongue, eager to please you. A shudder runs through you. You are so lost in his touch that you nearly forget this is about him and that he paid you to touch you.

This is not love-making, but a business transaction. “Please just fuck me…”

“Not yet,” he slaps your pussy lips. “I want you to be a good girl and let me enjoy every moment. “This includes tasting your cunt.”

“Oh-“ It never crossed your mind that a man could be interested in eating you out before getting off. “Be my guest.” You sass and spread your legs wider. “I’m on the menu tonight.”

“That you are,” he kisses the inside of your left thigh, caressing the soft skin with his lips and tongue. “But only for me.” He turns his attention toward your right thigh.  

He wraps his arms around your legs and pulls you closer to his mouth. “Fuck, you smell so good, doll.” You gasp the moment he licks up your sex. It’s a new sensation and you already love it. “Use my face, come on.”

You bite your lower lip. Can you do this? Lloyd said this is all about the man’s fantasy, but he wants to give you pleasure too.

“Fuck,” you nod and start grinding your pussy against his mouth, hoping to get more of this new feeling. “Please.”

“Soon, baby doll,” he purrs and flicks his tongue to play with your little nub. You wiggle on the bed, grinding as he uses his mouth to send sparks of pleasure through your body. You don’t think, just feel.

You whimper and moan hearing him groan against you. He throws your left leg over his shoulder, spreading you wide as he teases your soaked hole with the tip of his index finger. “Oh God, yes. Please just put it inside,” you become impatient. “Fuck…please.”

He laughs but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he pushes one finger inside, curling his digit inside of you. “Relax, doll. I’m gonna give you my cock soon enough.”

“Y-es…p-lease,” you can’t think straight. Your body is on fire, and you need release, or you’ll lose your mind. “Please I want you to…”

“Baby,” he purrs while slowly starting to fuck you with his finger. “Soon…I’ve been waiting to have you for so long.”

He adds another finger, now pressing his fingertips against your sweet spot. “Fuck,” you exclaim loudly. “Ah, there…I need… I want…”

“No,” you don’t get to cum. He scissors you open, ignoring that you beg and plead. “Not yet. You’ll cum on my cock only. I want to feel you fall apart for the first time while I’m inside of you.”

“Fuck!”

“Oh baby doll,” he coos when you sniffle, and slam your fists into the mattress. “I don’t want to be cruel, only to make it easier for you to take me.”

“Please, I only want to feel you,” you hold out your hands, sniffling louder. “I need you to do it now before I get scared.”

“Shit,” you feel his fingers slip out of you. He crawls up your body and kisses you slowly. “Baby doll, tell me if you want me to stop. We don’t have to do this.”

“You pai—” He silences you with his lips and makes you forget that you are only here for him to get what he paid for. “I want you.” You don’t know why, but it’s true. All you want is to feel him inside of your body.

“Are you sure?” He asks against your lips. “Baby doll?”

“Yes,” you blindly grasp for him. “Please fuck me. I don’t want to wait any longer.” You don’t tell him that the man you wanted to be your first would never even look at you twice.

“You don’t have to beg me.” He angles his hips to run the tip of his cock up and down your folds. “I’ll give it to you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and a high-pitched shriek escapes your throat feeling his length slide slowly into you. He stills his hips, groaning loudly as your walls strain against his intrusion.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby doll.” He buries his face in your neck, murmuring your name as he moves back and forth, always pushing a little deeper. “Open up to me, pretty doll.”

It hurts a little, and you hide your face in his shoulder, whimpering any time he tilts his hips. “I know, baby doll. It will feel good soon. Let me just,” he breathlessly whispers in your ear. “I’m gonna make love to you, Y/N.”

You bite his shoulder when he slides all in with the next thrust. A whimper escapes your lips, and you claw at his back. “Shhh…you are doing so good for me, baby. I’m proud of you, my sweet princess.”

He wraps one arm around you and removes the blindfold with one swift motion. You gasp and dig your nails into his back. “Bucky?” You can’t help but whimper his name. “What?”

“I couldn’t let you do this. I wanted you for so long.” He claims your lips in a soft kiss. “You refused to take my help so I…”

“It’s you,” you cling to Bucky. “Not some stranger…it’s you…” you sniffle. “You’re here…”

“Yeah,” he breathes against your lips. “Do still want to…”

You wrap your legs around his waistline. “Yes…hell yes…” You grunt. “Please don’t stop now. We can’t stop now.”

He nuzzles his face in your neck and digs his knees into the mattress. You melt into his arms, knowing it’s not a stranger, but the man you adored and loved for years.

“We already broke all the rules, Y/N,” he slowly starts rocking his hips. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Bucky curses as you claw on his back. “My doll.”

He’s pushing harder into you with every thrust. It doesn’t matter that you feel like you are in a limbo of pleasured pain, or that you forgot the condom. All you are capable of is to stare up at Bucky as he takes you apart.

Your body belongs to him and opens up to Bucky like a flower finally deciding to bloom. Your core burns with desire for more of him. “Please.”

“I’ve got you, Y/N,” he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, causing you to cry out loudly. Something drops to the ground in the room next door, but you don’t care.

You rock your body in sync with Bucky, urging him on to claim you, and your whole being. Even if you should be mad at him for tricking you, you can’t. Not when he pushes you over the edge, his name on your lips nor when he spills into you, cursing your name.

“Baby,” he worriedly looks down at you. You are panting heavily and are unable to open your eyes. “Y/N, are you alright?”

“Yeah…I’m good…” 

Bucky slowly pulls out to lie next to you. He opens his arms and watches you lie on his chest.

“Why did you never come back?” You run your hand over his sweaty chest. “Bucky?”

“Your dad found out that I had a thing for his beloved daughter,” he runs his hand over your head. “I’m sorry. He left me no choice but to stay away from you. I had to keep my distance.”

“You could’ve come to his funeral,” you sniff. “Why did you leave me all alone?”

“I had problems with the law, and I was in the middle of a divorce. You didn’t need a drunk wreck longing for you,” he whispers. “I had to wait until I’m better and then Hansen called, telling me about your problems.”

“That fucker,” you grumble. “I knew he was going to trick me!”

“Don’t worry, baby doll,” Bucky softly says. “I paid all your dues before coming here. I just couldn’t resist you any longer. I had to have you.”

He lifts his head to look you in the eyes. “Can you forgive me, Y/N?”

“I’ll consider forgiving you if you explain everything to me later. Like – how do you know Lloyd Hansen? And what is going on with his assistant?”

“You will get to know everything.” He pecks your lips. “For now, all you need to know is that I love you…always have…”

Tags in reblog.

[xcaptain-winterx]

Omg. We need Lloyd feeding his love fresh strawberries dipped in chocolate 😩 make it happen please 👉🏻👈🏻🥺🥺🥺

Sweet Love

dad!Lloyd Hansen x pregnant!reader

summary: above

warnings: fluff, pregnancy

a/n: English is not my first language, meaning you will probably find a lot of misspelling etc.

Main Masterlist Daddy Sociopath Masterlist

“So, how about a dark blue nursery?” Lloyd feeds you another strawberry. “I mean it would suit the floor, and it’s the typical boy color”

You shack your head, moving a bit to get into a more comfortable position on the bed and swallowing the strawberry before saying, “That’s too basic and we don’t even know if it’s going to be a boy”. It’s no secret that Lloyd wants a boy, not because he has something against having a baby girl, but because he wants to give his son all the love, he never got from his dad. Lloyd desperately wants to experience a good father-son relationship.

“I’m pretty sure it’s a boy, isn’t that so, Champ?” Lloyd says, while putting his hand on your belly. “I know that the Hansen sperms created a boy” he says, giving you smirk.

You slap his hand “Lloyd, just because you got me pregnant doesn’t mean that out of me will come a little mustache man”, you say, smiling at him, “also I reed that if you crave sweet food during your pregnancy, it’s most likely going to be a girl”

“Well, Mrs Hansen”, he goes, feeding you another strawberry, “you forgot that it’s salty chocolate that is covering those strawberries, and you forgot that you also swallowed my-“

“Lloyd, don’t say that while they are listening”, ever since you found out you’re pregnant you take language pretty seriously, “You know what you have to do”.

Lloyd sighs, but he knows better than to fight a pregnant woman, his pregnant woman. “Yeah, yeah, I know”, he pulls out a hundred-dollar bill, “here, sunshine”

You smile as he puts the hundred-dollar bill in the swear jar on your beside table, “thanks, moonlight”, you blow him a kiss.

“Can daddy get a real kiss?” Lloyd asks, giving you his famous cocky smirk. He can’t help but lick his lips when he thinks about you giving him a good old smooch. He’s a desperate, clingy husband.

“Only if you give me another strawberry”

You can’t even register what’s happening. All you know is that two hands grab your face and pull you into a passionate kiss. Lloyd can taste the sweet and salty flavors as you meet.

When you pull away, you see your husband chasing after you, clearly not done with you.

“Now give me another strawberry”

He gives you a pout before feeding you another. A smile forms on his lips again as you let out a loud moan, eyes rolling in the back of your head when the flavor explodes in your mouth. He’s happy that he can make you feel good in more ways than one. Taking care of you and protecting you is his number one priority. Nothing else competes with you. Well, baby Hansen will have to share the place with you.

“What if we paint the nursery beige?” Lloyd asks, “it’s not a boy color or a girl color”

“I’m not a big fan of beige”

Lloyd nods, thinking what else is there before realizing something, “the house is beige”

“I know-“, you get cut off.

“You said you like my sweatshirt and you said you loved my ass in those beige pants!” Lloyd is hurt that you never told him that.

“Lloyd”, you put your hand on his, “I love those things because I love you. I love the place we live in, and your ass obviously looks incredible in those pants” hormones are kicking in, “and something else looks good in them”

The sociopath starts laughing, “I knew you liked the big boy in those pants”, he grabs his crotch and looks down at it, “you heard that, jr.? Sunshine, thinks you look good in beige”

Some days you really think that you married a child. No matter if he’s talking to his dick, throwing a tantrum because he can’t find his chapstick or making fun of the person he’s torturing. If you look past that, you will see Lloyd’s other sides; the obvious sociopath side, the asshole side, and his soft side.

“How about you paint something on it”, Lloyd suggests, trying his best to calm the other one down because it’s not the right time for that fun.

“Huh?”

“The wall, so it’s not that boring. We could paint it beige and then paint something on it”, Lloyd answers.

Lloyd almost wants to curse you out when you suddenly jump up with a huge smile, showing your teeth, which you normally only give him when he gets you some Crêpes. “Yes, I like that”

“Good”, happy that you both came to a decision, “already any ideas?”

You don’t even need to think for a second, “yes”, and smile at him.

“care to share?”, he sits down next to you on the bed and pulls you into his side. You lean in his touch, sinking into his body heat. Nothing is better than feeling your husbands warm skin against yours. Ok, there are a few things that are equally good.

“Well”, you begin, “I think a ven Google vibe would be nice”

The expression on your husband’s face tells you he likes it. Painting the room in the man’s style that lead to you getting together, that lead to you getting married and that lead to you being parents in a few weeks. There were some ups and downs, especially downs, but in the end, you got together. All because of a weird named artist.

“Sounds like a Plan, Sunshine”

[evansbby]

➳❥ 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark!Lloyd Hansen x innocent!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, dubcon, noncon, dark, minors dni, daddy kink, age gap - reader is early 20s, Lloyd is late 30s, coercion, dark Lloyd taking advantage of super innocent reader, like seriously reader is very innocent, corruption kink, babying, extreme dumbification, dd/lg undertones, mention of gun, use of gun in sexual context, choking, spitting, kidnapping, dacryphilia, loss of virginity, blood mention, killing mention, manipulation, gaslighting

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Lloyd promises to let you go, but he demands a depraved repayment. (In other words: Lloyd pops your cherry).

𝐀/𝐍: This is really fucking depraved. Please, please be warned. 

“My dad’s gonna come for me!” You burst out tearfully, tiny fists clenching at your sides and nails digging into your palms, “H-He loves me! And… And I’m not scared of you!”

Lloyd yawns, “Honey, this whole heroic act was cute two days ago. But now you’re just boring me.”

“N-Not acting!” You lie, jutting your chin up and hoping he can’t see how your hands shake and lower lip wobbles. Your dad had always taught you to be brave in the face of evil. And the man sat in front of you, with his neatly trimmed moustache and perfectly styled hair; his elegant white pants and tight black turtleneck that showed off every ridge of muscle on his body…

This man was definitely the face of evil.

“As I said, boring.” Lloyd practically sing-songs, crossing one leg over the other, his blue eyes gazing at you from where you sit on the bed with the pink satin sheets. “Why don’t you try a different schtick, sunshine? Maybe be a bit bratty? Gimme a reason to rough you up a bit before I send the videos to your father?”

Brows knotting together in confusion, a pout forms on your lips, “What videos?”

Lloyd can’t help his gleeful smile, “You’ll see.”

He gets up from the gilded armchair that he usually sits on when he comes to ‘visit’ you, making his way over to the four-poster princess bed where you sit cross-legged. The whole room that he’s put you in is soft, pink hues with gold accents – admittedly the prettiest room you’ve ever lived in. You’re thankful Lloyd didn’t throw you into a dark, scary basement when he kidnapped you – but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to leave.

Dad’s gonna come for me, you assure yourself.

But right now, it’s just Lloyd (and the guards stationed outside your room). Your captor casually walks towards you, twirling his gun in his hand in a way that makes you cringe in fear. He smirks when you exhale sharply, your eyes widening when the brunet takes a seat next to you on the pretty satin sheets.

“Why, honey. You’re hurting my feelings – I thought you said you weren’t scared of me.”

You swallow harshly, “N-Not scared!”

“Then why are you shuffling away from me like a kicked puppy?” Lloyd licks his lips, suddenly grabbing your calf and dragging you over to him. He’s so much bigger than you, so much stronger too – with those muscles that bulge out of the tight shirts he wears. You squeal in pure fear as places you neatly on his lap, arms encircling around you.

“Shhh, baby. Just shut that pretty mouth up for me, okay? I need to tell you something.”

Immediately, you clamp your mouth shut, sitting rigid against him while he strokes your hair. You’d never tell him this – but he’s the scariest man you’ve ever met. In the two days that you’ve known him – from when he stole into your bedroom in the dead of the night and took you up until now – you’ve seen many different sides of him. He can go from soft to insane in two seconds flat, and you’ve even seen him kill people.

“M-My dad said we shouldn’t play with guns.” You can’t help but point out when you see Lloyd continuously twirling his loaded gun with his fingers. And he’s doing it so dangerously close to you, as if he doesn’t care at all if he accidentally hits the trigger.

Lloyd snorts, “That’s because your dad’s too busy playing with his tiny dick, sunshine.”

You gasp at his crassness, and the older man can’t help but laugh at the expression on your face.

“God, you’re a little airhead, aren’t you? Makes me almost sad about what I’m gonna say next.”

Ears perking up at his words, you shuffle around on his lap until you’re facing him, blinking up at him shyly and waiting for him to speak.

“I’ve decided I’m going to let you go.”

Elation fills your trusting heart, and you bounce up and down in his lap in excitement, not noticing the way he suppresses a growl and steadies you with his large hands on your hips. “Really? Oh, Mr. Hansen, thank you!”

“Yes, sunshine. Thank me indeed. Turns out your father’s useless, and by extension, that makes you useless. And do you know what I do with useless people, baby?”

Eyes wide as saucers, you shake your head.

“I kill them.”

You’re suddenly hyper-aware of the loaded gun in his hand, the one he so callously plays with all the time. Blood running cold, you gulp up at him, “B-B-But…”

“Shhh, baby.” He presses his finger against your lips. “You didn’t let me finish. I’m feeling nice today, honey. So instead of killing you, I’m going to let you go. Isn’t that nice of me?”

He’s giving you whiplash with his words, but you nod quickly, “Y-Yeah! My mom says to always see the good in people, so I think you’re being really nice, Mr. Hansen. Thank you! When do I get to leave?”

Lloyd almost moans out loud at your innocence, digging his boner up into your ass while you blink up at him, so deliciously unaware of his intentions.

“Now sunshine, don’t get too ahead of yourself.” Lloyd clicks his tongue, finger tracing shapes on your bare thigh – you’re still in your little pink nightie that you were wearing when he kidnapped you. “I’m doing you a huge favour here. In fact, I’ve done a lot of favours for you in the past two days, wouldn’t you say so?”

“Huh?”

“Aw, you’re a dumb little baby, aren’t you?” He chucks you under the chin, loving how goddamn innocent you look, how your perfect little lips form the shape of an ‘o’, how you look like you’re hanging on to his every word, “I kept you in this pretty room instead of the scary basement, I gave you food and a soft princess bed to sleep in, didn’t I?” He pinches the flesh of your thigh when you don’t reply, “Didn’t I?”

“Ow– Yes! Yes, you did!” You cry out.

“So then it’s only fair that you repay me before I let you go.” Lloyd is vary casual with his words, making it sound like this repayment is so painfully obvious. He’s playing with the strap of your nightie now, pushing the silky strap down your bare shoulder and making you shiver.

“I… I guess so.” You’re confused, but your dad has told you in the past that if someone does something nice for you, then it’s always a good idea to repay them for their kindness. And although you’ve seen Lloyd scream at the guards and his other men (as well as maybe shoot a few people), he’s never really been mean to you. You sit up straight, nodding your head as you feel a bit more confident. In fact, you’re sure your dad would be proud of you for how you’re negotiating like an adult right now, “Okay, Mr. Hansen. What kind of repayment would you like?”

The corner of Lloyd’s mouth curls up, his large hands rubbing up and down your arms in a way that has you feeling kind of light-headed and warm, “Call me daddy, sunshine.”

“What? But you’re not my dad!” You giggle softly, not understanding why you’ve suddenly got this throbbing feeling between your legs. And it only seems to increase when his hand slips down, now casually playing with the lacey hem of your nightie.

“But I took care of you, kept a roof over your head these past two days, and also kept you fed, didn’t I? That means I’m your daddy.” Lloyd says it slowly, as if he’s speaking to a toddler.

You mull over his words, “I guess that makes sense…”

The brunet runs a hand over his perfectly styled hair, trying not to get too excited over the fact that he really has lucked the fuck out, a sweet-looking broad with a head as empty as yours sitting pretty in his lap, believing every single word that comes out of his mouth. It’s almost too good to be true.

“It makes perfect sense, cupcake. You’re just a dumb baby, so maybe things aren’t so clear in your head. But a man who takes care of his girl is known as daddy. So, you better call me that from now on.” He trails the muzzle of his gun against your bare skin with an air of indifference that makes you whimper softly.

“O-Okay, daddy.”

Lloyd almost moans out loud when he hears you say it, his pants now uncomfortably tight and he wonders just how much of an airhead you are to not notice his hard fucking dick right underneath your ass.

“Now honey, I want you to listen carefully to what I say next. Because this is how you’re gonna repay me before I let you go.”

He takes your hand; your tiny, dainty little hand, and squarely presses it down on his hard crotch. And it’s almost music to his ears when you gasp, snatching your hand back in record time.

“I can’t touch you there! That’s your… thing!”

“Oh princess, you’re allowed to touch your daddy’s cock. It’s only natural.” There’s something about the lull in Lloyd’s tone, this soft, velveteen quality of his voice, that makes you want to listen to him. Plus, your curiosity gets the best of you, because you’ve never touched a man’s thing before… Slowly, you replace your hand on his crotch, gasping when he thrusts up into your palm.

“Daddy, why is it so hard?”

Lloyd’s played with dumb little girls like you before – so none of this is new to him. But it’s also safe to say that none of those other girls were quite as innocent and lovely as you, with your wide eyes and open mouth, gaping down at his dick as if it’s about to come alive and eat you.

“Honey, this is where your repayment comes in.” He grabs your hand once more, making you stroke his clothed dick slowly, “Daddy’s cock is sick, that’s why it’s so hard. And only you can help me fix it and make it soft again.”

“Only me?” You echo prettily, looking scared and honoured at the same time.

“Yes, sunshine. Despite the fact that you’re dumber than a brick, it has to be you.” With one hand holding yours and making you stroke him, he uses his other hand to brush your hair out of your face, being all deliberately tender till you’re looking up at him with shining eyes, “My dick’s so hard that it’s causing me pain. And you don’t want your daddy to be in pain, do you? Specially when I kept you so safe and comfortable during your stay with me?”

Again, you mull over his words. Lloyd could have thrown you in the basement or one of his torture chambers where he took the other bad guys (you’d heard the guards talking about it once). But no, he’d kept you in this pretty pink bedroom with the soft satin bed and fuzzy carpet. Lloyd was nice, so it wasn’t fair that he was in pain.

You nod slowly, “Okay, daddy. I’ll help you with your pain.” And then you pout, “But I don’t know how!”

He repositions you in his lap so that you’re straddling him, your knees on either side of him and the hem of your nightie running high, your pantie-covered crotch flush against his, making heat rise to your cheeks. You’ve never been in such an intimate position with a man before. But Lloyd is your daddy, and he’s a nice man and he’s going to let you go, so you will yourself not to be scared.

He cocks his gun, pointing the muzzle of it right between your breasts where the neckline of your nightie dips. You inhale sharply as he leisurely trails it down, leaving goosebumps in your wake as you feel the weapon slide down your body. All the way down to between your legs – the source of all the throbbing – and he presses his gun against your private place, making you jolt with a surprising thrill that courses through your veins.

“Do you know what this is called, sunshine?” He asks softly.

You gulp – of course you know! You’re a big girl, after all. “Y-Yeah, daddy. That’s my vagina. But I’m not allowed to have anyone touch me there. My dad said he’d kill whoever even tried.”

“Cupcake, your dad’s a fuckin’ tool.” Lloyd flexes his arm suddenly, pressing his gun against your core and you convulse from the contact. “Now, little girls like you can’t use the word vagina. That’s an adult word. Babies like you need to say princess parts, got it?”

Princess parts. That sounded pretty, and you’ve been living in this pink princess room with a princess bed and princess sheets, so it only makes sense; so you nod in agreement.

“Princess parts.” You say softly, liking how it rolls off your tongue, “I like that, daddy.”

“Of course, you do, sweet sunshine.” Lloyd smirks, gun still cocked between your legs while his other hand slips behind you, unzipping your nightie slowly. “Now, do your little princess parts ever get creamy, baby?”

Creamy? You widen your eyes in alarm – how could he possibly know?! Gulping, your hand freezes on top of his clothed dick and you bite your lip, ducking your head down in shame.

“I… I do get wet down there sometimes.” You confess, because Lloyd said he’s your daddy and surely, he won’t tell anyone. “But it’s not pee, I swear it’s not, daddy!”

Lloyd licks his lips like he’s the big bad wolf; and honestly, he might as well be with how he plans to take advantage of your innocence. Having unzipped your nightie all the way down, he lifts your straps and slips them down your arms. You’re too mortified over how he knows about your princess parts getting wet that you don’t even notice him doing it.

“Tell me how you got wet.” He orders you simply, a look of almost unrestrained lust on his face, “And you better tell me the truth, or else I’ll change my mind about letting you go.”

You squirm, “Well… Please don’t tell anyone, but once I was watching this movie on TV, and it had a…uh… a scene in it. A dirty scene.” Scrunching your eyes shut, you can’t help but replay the scene in your mind, the actor so handsome and ripped – although not even close to as handsome and ripped as Lloyd is. “And I know I should’ve turned it off, but I was curious.”

Lloyd’s thumb brushes against your bare nipple, dick so unimaginably hard underneath you at your innocent story, and also because he’s now got you topless on top of him and you haven’t even noticed. God, you’re so fucking dumb and it makes him so fucking hard.

“Th-Then I had this strong urge to go pee, but when I got up, there was a wet spot on the couch. And my p-panties were all wet too!” You lament, and you can’t help but bury your face in Lloyd’s strong and sturdy shoulder, embarrassed because a man as sophisticated as him shouldn’t have had to hear such a stupid, shameful story.

“Oh, honey,” Lloyd coos, humping up against you because he knows you’re too distraught to notice. “You’re such a dumb little baby, not even recognising your own princess cream.”

You hiccup, blinking up at him with huge doe eyes, “P-Princess cream?”

“Yes, sunshine. Princess cream. Babies like you get all wet and drippy down there with princess cream, and you’re meant to gift this cream to your daddies to make them feel better. Everyone knows that.”

You nod, finally understanding him, “Is that how your… thing… is gonna feel better? With my cream?”

Lloyd taps your cheek condescendingly, “Guess your head’s not completely empty after all.”

And that’s how you find yourself lying down on your princess bed, the satin sheets so soft underneath you as a man almost double your age hovers over you, taking your nightie off and leaving you clad in only your little pink panties.

“You know, sunshine, after you’re done helping daddy here, we can go into my room. I’ve got a huge TV, and we can watch all the dirty movies your little heart desires.” Lloyd is feeling nice after your little confession. Not so nice as to not take advantage of you, but nice enough.

“Okay, daddy, that sounds– Hey! Aren’t you gonna take me home after this?”

Lloyd chuckles, choosing to ignore you as he surveys your almost nude body, how it quivers so prettily. Rolling your hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he then brings your hand over to his pants once more, “Unzip me, baby. Daddy’s dick’s hurting a lot.”

You take a deep breath, not knowing where this is going but knowing that you want to help your daddy because he’s going to let you go after this and you’re so super thankful for that. Fingers shakily taking hold of his zipper, you undo his fly with baited breath and a thumping heart.

Lloyd’s eyes are so dark, it looks like he’s about to eat you up. “Take it out, baby. Take daddy’s dick out.”

Biting your lip in concentration, you think about when you’re in pain. Like the time you tripped and fell down the stairs when you were younger. You’d twisted your ankle and it had hurt a lot. It’s sad to think that Lloyd is hurting like that now, and you’d help just about anyone to stop them from hurting.

Your eyes widen when you pull his cock out, because your fingers don’t even fully wrap around it. He’s thick like a soda can, and long too. And so, so hard. Angry and red looking, with veins running down the side. You wonder if all men are as big as he is, or if he’s special.

“So… So big, daddy.”

Lloyd can’t help but stroke your cheek, “Take your panties off, sweetie. Can you do that for me?”

He sounds so soft and nice, voice so beguiling that you don’t think twice in obeying. But maybe it’s because you’re so distracted by the darkness in his eyes, by his handsome face so close to you, by his dick that scares you every time you sneak a glance at it… But you’re slow in tugging your panties down, and Lloyd taps you harshly on the cheek.

“Faster, you dumb fucking baby. Unless you want me to hurt you.” He gestures towards his gun which rests on the satin bedsheet next to you. You don’t understand why he’s kept it so close – it’s so scary and you hate it, but the threat works. Tugging your panties off, you go to hand them to him but he shakes his head.

“No, baby. Wrap your pretty panties around your hand and then hold my dick.”

His instructions are clear, but you still look up at him dumbly, “H-Huh?”

Lloyd rolls his eyes, patience running thin. All he really wants to do is shove his dick up your virgin pussy but he knows half the fun is building up to it. “It’ll help with the pain, sweetie. You wouldn’t understand because you’re too dumb. But don’t fucking question your daddy again.”

The satin of your panties and your soft, hesitant fingers feel like heaven around Lloyd’s dick. His own calloused hand grabs onto yours, moving your palm up and down on his big dick until you get the hang of it and don’t need his help anymore. And fuck, he doesn’t know where to look now because your tiny hand on his fat dick makes him want to bust a nut, but the look of determination on your face gets him going too.

“Is your pain getting better, daddy?”

He grunts, “Slightly, baby. But the real pain relief is inside your princess parts.” Licking his lips, he gives his next order: “Spread your legs, dumb baby. Wider. Wider, I said.”

You yelp when he slaps your inner thigh hard, pussy glistening and on display for him as you spread your legs as wide as they’ll go. And now it’s like Lloyd can’t restrain himself – how can he when there’s a five-course fucking meal about two inches away from him? All quivering and wet and untouched?

Quickly, he shoves your hand and panties off his dick, replacing it with his own as he brings his dick up to your wet folds. And you suck in a breath when his tip glides against your slit, up and down, making shivers run up and down your lower body, and you jolt upwards to create more friction.

“Ah– daddy, that feels funny!”

Lloyd’s no longer in the mood to humour you, it’s like he’s reached his quota of niceness for the day and now he just wants to get his fucking dick wet with virgin pussy. The thought makes him salivate – he hasn’t had a virgin since his days at Harvard, and never one as sweet and naïve as you.

“Shut up,” He breathes, leaning down till his chest is flush against your breasts, one hand easily trapping both your wrists above your head. He aims the tip of his dick against your clit, nudging the sensitive bundle of nerves and loving how you gasp. God, virgins were just too easily excitable.

“Oh, daddy! D-Do that again, maybe?”

That makes Lloyd bark out a laugh. “Naughty baby, you’re meant to be helping daddy out, not giving me demands.”

You hang your head in shame, “S-Sorry, daddy. I just can’t h-help it sometimes! My princess parts feel so tingly. J-Just wanna touch more– ah!” Something feral takes over you, and you reach down to grab his dick, positioning it in front of your leaking hole as if you really can’t help yourself.

Lloyd almost busts a nut right then and there, but he has enough willpower to smack your hand away, laughing when you pout and begin to cry.

“Don’t know what’s happening to me, daddy! Wanna feel you more! Feels like I’ll die if I don’t!”

He loves how prettily you cry, how you want to say you’re turned on but you can’t find the words to explain how you’re feeling. The tears welling in your eyes make him even harder and your soft cries are music to his ears.

“You ready to end daddy’s pain now, sunshine?” He asks you, leaning over you and a strand of his perfectly styled hair breaks free, brushing against your forehead. And oh my gosh, if he isn’t the most handsome man you’ve seen in the whole world! Like the heroes in the movies, or in those romance novels your mother is always reading.

“I’m ready, daddy!” You confirm, unknowingly bucking your hips upwards to meet his hard dick. But when he pushes his dick inside your hole, you gasp and push at his chest almost immediately. “D-Daddy, this is… this is sex. We’re gonna have sex?”

Lloyd really can’t believe how dumb you truly are, he gazes at you incredulously, and you bite your lip again.

“You said you would help me, sunshine. You can’t go back on your word now.”

“I’m not! I’m not!” You swear, “It’s just… I’m not supposed to have sex until I’m married. But I really want to, daddy. I wanna help you and I wanna have sex with you – I just don’t want my parents to be mad!”

Lloyd’s bored now. In fact, he’d grown bored a good five minutes ago. Maybe he could tell the guards outside to get him some ductape so he can shut your fucking mouth once and for all while he has his way with you. Or he could drug you. But then he wouldn’t be able to hear your pretty gasps and cries when he finally pops your cherry.

Decisions, decisions.

“Look, honey. I’m gonna fuck you now – whether you like it or not.” Lloyd gets straight to the point, “So unless it’s to moan and beg for my dick, I’d suggest you shut your fucking mouth.”

You pout – why is he being so mean? Isn’t Lloyd meant to be nice and caring like how he said all daddies are? You decide it’s probably because he’s in pain. Oh! His pain! You’d completely forgotten that you were doing this to help ease his pain, and you mentally kick yourself for being so selfish.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” You say pitifully, but Lloyd’s too busy fondling your breasts, leaning down to lick around your nipple before taking the hard nub into his mouth and giving it a noisy suck. And the simple action has you squealing in pleasure and excitement before he stops and gives you a wolfish grin.

“Okay, sunshine. I’m in a good mood so we’ll take this nice and slow, okay?” You nod happily and he continues, “I want you to count up till five. Can you do that, honey? Can your little baby brain count up till five?”

“Y-Yes.” You squeak, “One, two, thr– OW, OH MY, AH, AH, AH! DADDY!”

Lloyd doesn’t give a shit if he’s being cruel, but he’s not about to ease his dick into you when your drippy, tight cunt is right there in front of him. Which is why, in one hard and unforgiving thrust, his pistons his fat dick into your virgin pussy, ignoring the tightness that tries to squeeze him back out.

“God fucking damn,” He grunts, because your tight walls are squeezing him like a vice, “Goddamn this fucking baby cunt, fuck!”

And you’re crying and crying, chest heaving and limbs flailing at the intrusion. He’s so big, so, so, so big. How has he managed to fit inside of you? It’s the worst pain imaginable – and it’s indescribable how full you feel. So full of Lloyd’s girthy, fat dick – the only dick you’ve seen, the only dick that’s ever been inside of you.

“Hurts!” You cry, “Hurts so bad!”

Lloyd couldn’t give less of a shit if it hurts for you – because it feels fucking amazing for him. But seeing your eyes scrunched shut and tears dripping down your cheeks, he can’t help but lick up your face, gathering the salty tears on his tongue and groaning with pleasure as he bottoms out inside of you.

“Open those eyes, sunshine.” He says softly against your lips, “Open those eyes and cry harder for me. Like a fuckin’ baby. Daddy loves that shit.”

“Y-You said… You said…” You choke back tears, tiny hands gripping at his bulging biceps, and Lloyd can’t help but laugh at your broken voice, “You said to count till f-five!”

“I did? Oh, sunshine, I guess I lied.” Lloyd’s barely even paying attention to you, his gaze shifting down to where you two meet. He pulls his dick out of you slowly, savouring your tightness and moaning internally when he sees his dick coated in your cream and your virgin blood. Fuck, if that ain’t the prettiest thing he’s ever seen…

“Not nice!” You sob harder, bracing yourself when he pushes back into you. And it hurts all over again, you just can’t wrap your head around how big he is, “Ah, why are you be-being so mean?”

Lloyd doesn’t bother answering your dumb question, instead grinding his hips down before pulling out and slamming back in. Grabbing your thigh, he pins it above his shoulder, giving himself a better angle to fuck you. And he thanks his lucky stars that he didn’t use a condom, because fucking your baby cunt bare is nothing short of heavenly.

And he’s not completely opposed to the idea of knocking you up either.

“My dumb little baby,” Lloyd coos, cupping your face in his hands, “How does it feel to finally get fucked? I bet your old dad would be so proud of you, huh? Fucking his worst enemy because you think I’m gonna let you go after this.”

You shake your head, focusing on Lloyd’s navy eyes that are both so beautiful and so cruel. His pale skin smattered with scars from old battles, his strong, bumped nose and full pink lips. His moustache that tickles your face when he leans down over you.

“Daddy,” you cry out softly, dull thrill rippling throughout your body as he continues to thrust into you, the tip of his dick hitting a certain part inside you that has you gasping with pleasure. “Oh, daddy, still hurts but… f-feels all tingly again!”

“I’ll bet it fucking does,” He growls, picking up his pace and going into full jackhammer mode, wanting to see your cunt all messy and ruined, suddenly wanting to wreck you and ruin you for anyone else. Not that there was going to be anyone else getting between your legs. “Baby, say this is daddy’s pussy.”

“Th-This is daddy’s pussy!” You cry, all thoughts quickly leaving your mind except for Lloyd – his arms, his body, his dick, him. “Nngh, ugh! Daddy!”

There’s this pressure building up inside your lower belly, and every time his dick hits that spot inside you, the pressure mounts up further. You gasp when Lloyd forces your mouth open, spitting on your panting tongue and smirking when you look up at him in fear mixed with lust, his saliva sitting pretty inside your mouth.

“Swallow it.”

You do as he orders you, completely submissive and slowly going dumb for him. God, it’s the prettiest sight in the world, you being so docile even when he’s fucking you so roughly despite it being your first time.

“Tell me you love my spit. Ask daddy to spit in your mouth again.” Lloyd grunts out over the lewd sound of his balls slapping against you with each hard thrust.

“L-Love your spit, please spit in my mouth again, daddy!” You beg him, and God, you sound so needy. Lloyd reaches out to pat your cheek, loving when your head lolls to the side. You’re gone. Fucked completely dumb and he’s barely even started.

Using his thumb and forefinger to pry your drooling mouth open, he once again spits, and then again. The first lands straight in your mouth again and you swallow like an obedient baby. The next glob of saliva lands on your cheek, and God, you look so messy. So messy and slutty yet innocent at the same time. Fuck. Lloyd wants to devour you.

Hand slipping down, he swats your ass once, twice, three times. The harsh smacking jolts you back into reality, and now you’re screaming in earnest. Your little princess bed is rickety underneath you, the headboard banging noisily against the wall as Lloyd fucks the living daylights out of you. Your pleasure is building up with each slam of his dick, his tip hitting your cervix and making you cry out his name needily.

“Yes, baby, give daddy your cream,” Lloyd finds himself coaxing you, his fingers wrapping around your pretty little throat and loving how you squeeze around his dick when he does that, “Mm, you’re a fuckin’ depraved little baby, aren’t you? You like it when daddy chokes you, huh?”

You let out incoherent gurgles and pleas, humping upwards to meet his thrusts as your eyes slowly begin to roll to the back of your head. “L-Like it, daddy! Don’t know – ah – don’t know why, but I like it – OOH, DADDY! FEELS TINGLY, FEELS SO – AH!”

Lloyd loves the look of pure bliss and confusion on your face when you clench around him and give him your first ever orgasm. He really loves the power trip that comes with the fact that he’s given you your first ever feeling of such intense pleasure, and you’ve squirted around his dick. He pins your hips down as your limbs flail uncontrollably, fresh tears in your eyes and moaning like a broken record player: “oh, daddy, daddy, daddy!”

“God, so fuckin’ tight, sweet baby,” Lloyd hisses, feeling his balls tighten, “Squeezing daddy so good, aren’t you? God, I love your fuckin’ baby cunt and how it swallows daddy’s fat dick. Little fuckin’ virgin cunt all messy and ruined, fuck! Make a mess on my dick, you little cry baby. Fuck!”

One hand gripping his bicep and the other fisting the pink satin sheets underneath you, you come undone in what is the most earth-shattering orgasm you’ve ever had. It’s also the only orgasm you’ve ever had, and you scream so loud, his name on the tip of your tongue, “Oh, daddy! Oh my God, oh my God, OH MY GOD!”

“Not God, you dumb baby, just me.” Lloyd slaps your breast before squeezing it hard. With an almighty grunt, he releases inside of you. Filling you with his hot, searing cum, ropes and ropes of it, so thick and making you feel so full. You feel it inside your very depths, claiming you, making his mark on your body.

With a shudder, he collapses on top of your weak body, and you’re so frail and spent, breathing hard and eyes glassy like you’re about to pass out. You can’t even form a single thought, all you can feel is your body shaking from the remnants of your powerful orgasm, and Lloyd’s cum which doesn’t even fit inside you, dripping out lewdly from your used fuckholes and onto your princess sheets.

“My baby, all mine,” Lloyd croons, kissing up your neck and pecking your lips, “Can’t believe how easy it was to pop your cherry.”

You blink, completely dazed and unable to form any words, just gaping up at him and trying your hardest not to black out. His sweet kisses trail up your cheek, gathering your tears along the way.

“And you know the best part, sunshine?” Your captor sings, cupping your cheek with his calloused hand, “I’m never letting you go. And guess what? Your douche of a dad is downstairs. In fact, you can say hi to him because the camera’s right there.” Lloyd twists his body slightly and points up at the red light above the dresser.

You feel your blood run cold, but you’re still too fucked out to form a sentence, “Wh-What–”

“He’s been watching us, baby.” Lloyd says proudly, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger and making you forcibly look at the camera, “Bet you didn’t think your first time would be livestreamed, did you, sunshine? Bet your dad sang like a canary once he saw his worst enemy fucking his daughter while he sits downstairs, handcuffed to a chair and completely helpless.”

Tears stream down your cheeks, but your legs are still shaking from your orgasm, and you don’t have the energy to push him off you, “H-How could you?” You cringe away from the damning red light of the camera.

“Because I can.” Lloyd answers simply, “But don’t worry, baby. It wasn’t all business. Your tight little baby cunt is something I could get used to. I think I’m gonna keep you, once I’ve questioned your dad and gotten rid of him, of course.”

He covers your face in kisses, his moustache scratching your sensitive, tear-stained cheeks as you lie underneath him, stoic and shocked.

“What do you say, sunshine? Ready to be your new daddy’s little girl?”

THE END! What do you guys think? I wrote this all today because I was rewatching some The Gray Man scenes and got super inspired! Please, please, please, feedback is so important so do tell me what you think! Please share with anyone you think might enjoy this, and any Lloyd enthusiasts! Reblogs means the world to writers, so please reblog and share! THANK YOU! ILY!

[georgiapeach30513]

With Your Touch, Part 2

Summary: Lloyd has some rules, and very little control.

Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Au Pair!Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual tension, video sex, a bit of voyeurism, implied male masturbation, teasing, daddy issues, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5.9K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“Shh, sweetheart. We’ve got to tell your daddy you need a proper middle name. Unless you’re European. Can you tell me if you are?” Lyla giggles a bit, reaching a hand up to touch your face. “Oh, I knew it. You want one. So what do you think your dad will like an A name? A B name?” The baby squeals so loud you hear Lloyd’s loud banging stop. Pausing while he focuses on Lyla’s voice.

“Was that a good sound or bad? I haven’t learned her noises. Cries. Voice. I don’t know what the correct terminology would be, but I haven’t learned it.”

“It isn’t bad. She’s communicating with me.”

“What?” His voice is laced in so much confusion that you find it so endearing. He was obnoxious, but trying. His rules for you as the au pair were a bit too much, but the pay was ridiculously good. And Chase didn’t live too far. He could sneak in.

You walk into Lyla’s room, wanting to laugh as Lloyd curses at the crib he was trying to put together. Looking down at the sweet baby in your arms as her daddy throws something else, “He’s pitching a fit.”

“No the — no, I’m not. This stupid thing is impossible with these dumbass directions. And she can’t sleep in her bedroom. I don’t want her to sleep in the portable crib anymore. I want her to have a space of her own. I highly doubt her whore of a mother gave her that. And yes, she is. Any woman that drops off a baby with their father who knows fuck all about kids is a whore and shitty human being. And Lyla, I apologize. I’m working on not talking like an asshole around her.”

Working on it, and failing miserably, it is still cute he thinks he’s going to change that quickly. Even just acknowledging that type of language isn’t suitable for her is a start. “And here I am in over my head, putting together an overly pink bedroom for her because she didn’t ask to be born, and I am extra.”

“Yeah, designer baby clothes aren't what a lot of parents do.”

“How did your father dress you?”

Chuckling, you put Lyla in her carrier. You place her slightly behind, but still beside Lloyd, and plant yourself beside him, grabbing up the directions. “Roman didn’t dress me. My mother did. Roman might have paid for things, but my mom was the one that was there always. So you’re doing a lot better than him.”

“Is this a moment you tell me you have daddy issues?”

Snorting, you look up at him, shaking your head no, “This is me telling you my experience with my father. Having a dad in a girl’s life makes a difference. I call him Roman. What do you want Lyla to call you?”

“Dad.”

“You know you didn’t hesitate?” Taking a deep inhale, Lloyd grabs the directions from you, busying himself in reading them. You don’t think he actually is looking at them, he’s absorbing what you said, while also refusing to look at you and show you his vulnerability. “Speaking of which, why doesn’t she have a middle name?”

“Why does she need one?”

“What’s your middle name?” You counter quickly, and he leans back. His eyes gazing over your body. Wondering where the hell you came from because clearly you didn’t know who he was.

He narrows his eyes, looking at you and then his daughter. Lyla can’t help but to giggle at him. Tiny little thing. You wonder if she was malnourished or just a bit miniature anyways. “Bennett,” he waits to see if you react before continuing. “Why does she need one?”

“Beatrice,” he looks down at the baby who chuckles again. “She likes you, and she told me she wanted a name that started with B, and now I find out your name starts with a B. I think you and your daddy are a perfect pair, don’t you Miss Lyla Bee?” Despite whatever nonsense her mother had her living in, she's a happy baby. One that is very much aware of her daddy. Her bright green eyes focus on him when he looks at her.

“Lyla Bee. I like that. She’s like my little bumble bee. Should we get rid of all the pink and change it to bumble bees? Did I make a mistake with the pink? What if she doesn’t like pink?”

You shrug your shoulders. It really didn’t matter what she liked. She seemed to like her dad, and he adored her, and wanted to do right by her. “I think we should keep the pink. Here, you tend to the baby, and let me have a go at this crib. You’re messing everything up. And she really likes you.”

“But you’re the au pair?” He says, holding onto Lyla. He gives his finger to her, and her little baby fingers wrap around him tightly.

“And you’re mucking up this crib. Can I? I helped my mom with my little brother’s crib. It was a long time ago. But,” you go silent, grabbing the directions back from Lloyd. Using the same tactic he did earlier. Focus on this and ignore the questions, “No, Roman is not his father.”

“Didn’t ask,” he didn’t have to. Everyone else did. Your brother was an angel, and his father was…well, he was there. He made sure that Vincent was taken care of. Might not have offered you any attention, but you weren’t his responsibility.

“You thought it, so that was enough. I like the simple, but extravagant theme you went for in her bedroom though. Even if the Dior bunny is a bit much.”

“She likes it,” he chuckles, looking down at his daughter. “My partner told me buying things is my love language.”

“You must really love your daughter then,” he whispers out ‘yeah’, not realizing how much it hurts you that he loves someone he just met. And your father knew about you during the pregnancy. You didn’t have daddy issues. You had men issues. Men couldn’t be trusted. There were to be looked at, and put to good use.

You flop down on the seat next to Lloyd on the couch with a cup of microwave macaroni and cheese. You take a bite of the easy dinner, glancing at the television while Lloyd scowls. His eyes drift over your body, slightly confused. Watching as your jaw pulses with your chews.

“I feel you watching me,” he didn’t hide his facial expressions. You could read exactly what he was thinking by the quirks of his brows and mouth alone. Not that you had been paying attention to his mouth.

“What is that dreadful shit you’re eating?”

You turn your body towards him, and slowly take another bite. Noting how his eyes go to your mouth as he watches you chew in disgust. “It only took three and a half minutes to make.”

“It smells like it did. But what are you eating?” This man has been rich his entire life. Didn’t even know the joys of microwaveable food.

“It’s mac and cheese,” you giggle. Scooping out a bit, and you hold the spoon out for him. “Try it.”

“I’d rather not,” his face no longer disgusted, but more indifferent.

“Because you’re scared to eat after me?” He rolls his eyes as you take another bite of the sinfully delicious and preservative filled dinner. It probably had too much sodium in it, and the way you dressed it up surely didn’t help. But it was simple and comforting all the same. Lloyd could learn to loosen up a bit. Bring himself down to a ‘normal lifestyle’.

“While sharing a spoon with you does repulse me. The idea of eating something that came out of a microwave is just as disgusting. Did your father not feed you well?”

“Roman,” you emphasize his name. One day Lloyd would understand that Roman was nothing but a sperm donor and a bank. “He didn’t feed me. My mother did. And she wanted me to be normal.”

“Eating proper food is normal,” you liked him. Legitimately liked him. He also didn’t get offended when you popped back. He probably always had someone around him ready to take orders. That is until you.

“I mean have the American dream.”

“Yes, the American dream is definitely to eat food that is cheaper than toilet paper.”

Slowly blinking, you watch him watch you. Something that should be uncomfortable with the lack of a baby as a buffer wasn’t. You wanted to bring him back down to earth. He was a bit pompous and a lot of an asshole, and you still liked it. “I’m going to make you a cup.”

“Please don’t,” his voice is flat as he watches you jump up from the couch.

“And you’re going to at least try it.”

“I’d rather not,” he is too stiff and robotic with his movements. You want to reach over to his shoulders and make him slouch. Maybe if you made him laugh or shook him? Made him dance with you? You were going to make him break.

“And after you’ve tried it, if you still think the same we can drop it. But what I put into my body is my business. What you put into yours is your business. We won’t judge one another. You can oblige me by cooking me and Lyla Bee a delicious dinner one evening. I’ll humor you, and try your rich people food, mkay?”

This isn’t at all what Lloyd had bargained for. A girl who was given no boundaries. But you had helped him get Lyla’s bedroom in order. She was even sleeping soundly in her crib while a monitor sat on the coffee table. You hadn’t complained when he would start throwing things in a fit. And somehow managed to calm him down.

“Fine, but I don’t cook. I have a private chef,” he responds, following you into the kitchen. Eyeing you as you go into the pantry. “Where did this come from?”

Sighing, you open up the fridge producing a container of shredded cheese, and walk to the counter. “I had it delivered while you were taking a nap with Lyla. It’s really cute to see you sleeping with a baby on your chest. You know, I could watch her. Nap time leaves me nothing to do but use Roman’s card to have some food delivered here.”

“I read you should try to bond with your baby whenever you can. I missed time with her. Wait — you were watching me sleep?” It was quick, but you saw his smirk. Did he like you watching him sleep? That almost feels like an invasion of privacy. Or did he like that you looked at him? Called him cute? What was this?

“It got quiet in the apartment. So I went to find you,” and you might have wandered around the giant apartment as well. His bedroom was just the first place you looked. And you might have enjoyed what you saw, and you might have created a quick but stupid scenario of your husband doing that. Not Lloyd in particular, just a blank faced man who may or may not have had a mustache.

“You’re a snoop?”

“I’m curious by nature,” it wasn’t a lie. You weren’t looking for something to hurt or burn Lloyd with. Just wanted to give a gander through everything. “So what exactly are my hours? When you’re here do you want me to be here? Can I request time off? Have a social life? You won’t exactly let me have people here, and I do respect that. This is yours and Lyla’s space, and I know with your line of work discretion is advised. But I can’t have my only friends be you and a baby. I do have a boyfriend, and I fear I won’t if I don’t see him.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Lloyd smirks. That smile dies quickly as he watches you mix up the cheese concoction to the now completed noodles, and slide the disposable container to him. “You’re not going to put this in a real bowl?”

After washing your hands, you splash a bit of water on him. Giggling when his face turns into a snarl, “Loosen up. This is microwave food. And I need to see other people. Do you not like Chase?”

“His name is dumb,” rolling your eyes, you look away from him. Listening for any signs of movement on the monitor while Lloyd takes a tentative bite of the mac and cheese. Curling up his nose until the spoon touches his tongue, and you see his eyebrows go up. “But this isn’t that bad.”

“What’s wrong with his name?”

“Chase is a verb,” he answers matter of fact. He was going to be one of those. Complete alpha male, and you were bringing someone into his home that was hurting his ego. You weren’t even sure if Chase was the one, but he is definitely the one right now. You didn’t meet your forever person in college, and you’re not even sure you believe in that. You just find someone you tolerate and make sure the sex is good. Plus Chase was amazing to look at and a lot of fun.

“And I don’t want boys in and out of Lyla Bee’s life,” he liked the way the nickname you gave her sounded. It suited his sweet little bee. She had proven to be the sweetest and most cuddly baby he’d ever met. But he had only met one.

“I can respect that as long as you respect the fact that he is my boyfriend,” Lloyd didn’t really want to or have to for that matter. But you were new to this life and to him. You’d eventually see that Lloyd commanded all. Not that he would torture you like he did some. As long as you followed the rules.

“Fine.”

“Is it okay that I came out here tonight? Would you rather me stay holed up in my room? Alone?”

“No,” he answers, walking to the garbage can to dispose of the trash. He heads towards the sink, washing his spoon quickly before leaving you to go back into the living room. Leaving you with more questions than answers.

“No, as in it’s okay that I came out?”

“Were you supposed to stay in your bedroom and starve?” Well that was a simple question to answer. But it was your first night here, and you didn’t know what boundaries he had that you shouldn’t cross. “I don’t expect us to be best friends. But we live together. You’re the woman that takes care of my daughter, and I’m the man.”

Saying it in such simple terms made this arrangement sound strange. You didn’t want to be an au pair, and didn’t see yourself living with a man and his daughter. His baby daughter, who couldn’t even crawl. Currently you think about this weird living situation, and how lines could easily become blurred here.

“What are my duties?”

“You’ve already told me that you have daddy issues, and now you’re asking me what your duties are? Please. I’m going to bed. This line of question is — it’s not good for me. Goodnight, Dolly. Stay up as long as you like, but in the morning I’ll be gone. Tomorrow will be all your responsibility. I’ve added a monitor to your room. If it’s before five, I can tend to her.”

He walks off leaving you with even more questions. Why did he suddenly have that outburst? What had made him seem so sensitive? And you didn’t have daddy issues. You were just fine without your father. You didn’t seek the approval of a man, or needed one to keep you in line. Sure you might watch Lloyd with Lyla and wish that Roman had even an ounce of care that Lloyd had shown in the first few hours that you met him.

Lyla is lucky to have a man that stepped up to be her father. He didn’t have to. From what you understand he didn’t even know of her existence, but it didn’t matter. She was his priority.

Exhaling deeply, you turn off all the lights, and walk to your bedroom. You’d promised Chase you would call once you were settled in bed. You’d leave the awkward talk with Lloyd for tomorrow, or whenever he decided to show up. Giving a look towards his door instead of Lyla’s telling yourself you would crack him. It was one day, and things wouldn’t always be this awkward.

Sitting on your overly plush bed, you call up Chase, and he answers on the first ring, “FaceTime me. I want to see you.”

Flipping it over to a video call, you see his handsome face, and smile like a schoolgirl. “Nice room. Have you figured out how I’m going to be able to sneak in there?”

“Chase!”

“Oh, come on. It will be fun. I’ve never fucked an au pair before,” you roll your eyes. Letting the camera drift a bit before pulling apart your pajama top. Giving him a quick flash of your chest. “Oh, princess, I like that. Is that why you called me? We’ve never had phone sex before.”

”Being around a baby and a man child today made me miss you,” you give him a little pout. The performance that he loved so much, and you just enjoyed to see him get feral. “All I could think about was falling asleep because you wore me out.”

”I could fucking wear you out.”

“Oh, yeah? What would you do to me?”

“I know how you like an audience. Maybe not actually seeing you, but you love when people can hear you. You think daddy Lloyd would have a problem hearing you whisper my name?” Daddy Lloyd? Now why did that give you a bit of a pause. A rumble in your belly that you hadn’t expected. Ignoring a few of Chase’s words as your mind ponders, going in so many different directions of why those words strung together made you…feel.

“He’d hear you gasping for breath as I stab into that sweet little cunt. Or maybe he’d walk in to see you riding me. Why don’t you remind me how you ride me,” you hum at him, and he pans the camera down to his lap, and he’s gripping the base of his cock so tightly. Beads of precum gather at the tip. Normally he’d have his cock already covered in a condom. But seeing him in all his glory is doing something to you.

“Grab a pillow, and pretend it’s me. I’ll stroke my cock to whatever pace you set.”

—

Lloyd flops to the other side. Grabbing his pillow he covers his head thinking about anything besides what he is hearing. He shouldn’t have added the camera to your room. But to be fair the cameras were in every fucking room in the apartment. How was he going to protect you and his daughter if he didn’t know what was going on?

Maybe the ones in the bathroom were too much, but they weren’t pointing at the toilet. My god, he wanted to look. Wanted to turn the volume down. Wanted to get that stupid verb out of his mind. But the verb wouldn’t stop talking. It isn’t even fair that you are whispering. It is normal for people to masturbate. You’d just sound better without his pathetic attempts at phone sex.

“Ugh,” Lloyd growls. He could exit out of the app if he wanted to, but he didn’t. Is it because he didn’t want to? Is it because he liked the sound of your sweet noises? Or is it because it had been too long since he had felt something besides his hand? He isn’t sure. The only thing he was truly positive about was you were killing him.

All fucking day. Acting all innocent and oblivious. He’d been away from women for too long, and you were…you knew what you were doing. Your cute little domestic moments with his daughter. You made him army ration mac and cheese that were at least edible. You helped him. You didn’t even ask, you just sat down and helped him. And you were sweet with his baby.

His emotions are conflicting with his need to…

He had to stop this utter nonsense. He isn’t a rational man, but he did what he had to do with the cameras. And now it’s backfiring on him because you can’t fucking whisper a moan. Why did your heavy breathing sound so sexy?

Why did he want to look? Were you topless? One peek wouldn’t hurt. But it would be crossing a line. How would he feel if someone was doing this with his daughter? He wouldn’t like it. You were Roman’s daughter. Even though he didn’t tell him you had the prettiest…

Nope. He is spiraling down into a sinful rabbit hole. His cock is too hard and angry and it is killing him to not look. He even fears grabbing his phone to turn down the volume will make him want to watch you. See you do whatever the fuck you are doing. Judging by the sounds and whatever The Verb was saying, you are grinding on a fucking pillow.

One look won’t hurt.

Nope, he can’t do this. He throws the blanket off him. Sitting up in the bed, he rests his elbows on his knees. Head in his hands as he tries to make his cock calm down. He was lonely. But it feels even wrong to fuck his fist because your voice is what got him hard.

This arrangement was needed, but this is difficult. Feeling a bit impossibly hard right now. Everything was hard. Including his fucking cock. It was quaking with the need to be dealt with.

Shaking his head, he stands up. His cock pressing uncomfortably against his boxers. A walk through the apartment is much needed. Get away from the noise. Maybe eat another somewhat edible peasant mac and cheese.

This was a bad idea. He sees the soft glow underneath your bedroom door, and has a deep desire to sling it open and get on to you for being…

No. He can’t do that. You’re not ‘breaking’ any of his rules. You’re just mutually masturbating with your boyfriend, and you’re taking too long. Not that he would make sure to fuck you quickly. He just doesn’t want someone else taking their time with you.

What the fuck is he even talking about? He can’t fuck you. You were Lyla’s. He just paid you. He could pay you in other ways.

No!

You fucking asked him what your duties were. He’d love for your duties to be getting to your knees and letting him see how pretty your mouth looked with his cock in it. His tip nudging the back of your throat while tears fill your eyes, and your lungs cry for air.

What the actual fuck? Why was he like this? Why was this a struggle? And why is he going the opposite way of the kitchen? Landing directly in front of your door? Listening to your sounds live. Panting. Whimpering. Not saying The Verb’s name. He’d have you screaming his name. He would have you begging for him to let you come. Have you edged all day because you wanted to tease him with silly little questions about your duties.

He’d have tears falling down your cheeks as he smirks down at you. Letting you know what a pathetic and needy little slut you were. Fuck you so hard your eyes are rolling into the back of your head, and you’re completely dumb. So dumb that you’re just spouting out random words until he’s left his seed inside your belly.

Walking to your bathroom to get a washcloth to clean you up before leaving you blissed out. Making you so needy that you beg for his attention. Start being a good girl so you get more time with is cock in — inside of you. Ready to crawl on your knees after Lyla was put to sleep, and telling him you’re his little sex doll. And he would make so much use of your body and holes. Fucking you every night. Special time just for you. Just so he can feel your tight…tight…tight walls milk him dry.

”Lloyd?” Your voice pants on the other side of the room. “Lloyd is that you?” Getting closer to the door. He tucks his cock back in his boxers. Not even realizing he had been rubbing one out to your sounds. Wiping his hands on the silk of his underwear when you sling the door open.

How did you become prettier? A sheen of sweat around your hairline, and yep…you’d been grinding on a fucking pillow. Your bed is a crumbled up mess and a pillow is right in the middle of the bed. “Is everything okay? Sorry, I was…I was telling Chase goodnight.”

The Verb. You had shorts on earlier. Now it’s this t-shirt that was barely covering your legs. Were you naked? Did you show him your pussy? Your chest continues to heave, and he hates The Verb. He despises him. He’s got to go. You can’t spend time with Lyla and him if The Verb was in the picture. “Lloyd, are you okay?”

“I’m hungry.”

”I’m confused,” what was his reason for being at your door, telling you that he was hungry.

”I like ramen. The gross kind. The kind that…”

”Like top ramen?” You ask him confused. Mouth still slightly open as you try to catch your breath and his eyebrow quirks up. Did you know he was listening to you and stroking himself?

“Yes. You made me your cheap noodles, would you like me to make you some of my cheap noodles?”

“It’s after midnight.”

“Fine, I’ll eat the noodles by myself,” spinning on his heels, he walks away from you into the kitchen. It isn’t long until he hears the soft pads of your feet following him. “I told you it was okay.”

“You — did you…I was almost asleep.”

“Yes, yes. I understand. You were almost asleep as you were telling your…boyfriend goodnight. That’s exactly what almost asleep sounds like,” that list bit of his sentence sounds a bit implying. Did he know?

“Did you hear our conversation?” Was it even a conversation? He couldn’t remember. He just heard you telling him you were going to come. Not The Verb, but Lloyd. You are a tease. He didn’t mean to get off on your voice. “How long were you out here?”

“Grab me a pot?” Oh you were obedient, bending over to get a pot, and standing up quickly. Not quick enough. No panties. He pretends to see nothing. You can sleep with no panties. That’s a good habit to get into because he can just slide into your bed, and start fucking you. When you get there of course. Consent is key. And he feels like a bastard for what he did tonight. But that movement you just did was on your own.

“Sorry.”

“For what?” He asks with a devilish grin.

“Nothing,” it wasn’t just nothing. But he wasn’t going to make you feel guilty for the need to show him your cunt still glistening. He’d have your legs drenched. “Do you do anything special with your ramen? Or do you make it as is?”

“There’s some eggs and spring onions in the fridge. Does that answer your question?” He nods his head towards the fridge, trying to figure out what else he could make you do to get a little peek. He’d play oblivious. Let you decide what you are comfortable with. “Mind getting me some bowls from the top shelf?”

Standing on your tippy toes you dance around a moment. The bottom of your ass cheeks make a little appearance, and he steps behind you to reach the bowls himself. Taking too long to cage your body with your own. And when you gasp, pressing your ass into his crotch he bounces back immediately. Dropping the bowls into the floor and they shatter into thousands of pieces.

“Shit,” Lloyd whispers under his breath. And without asking, places his hands on your sides to lift you up onto the counter. “Stay there while I clean this up. I don’t need you stepping on glass.”

He doesn’t notice the odd glances that you give him as he picks up the larger pieces and starts sweeping up the rest. “My mom always uses wet a paper towel to get the tiny pieces up.”

“That’s smart,” he follows your instructions. And stands up straight. You have already gotten more comfortable, and your legs are not so tightly pressed together. He has to bite his tongue in order to not look. But as high up as that shirt is sitting on your thighs, he knows. And you are aware that he knows.

“Not that Lyla can even crawl right now, but the idea of there being these tiny pieces of glass for you to step on when holding her,” his words stop, and he stands in front of you. How did you not realize he was shirtless? Why is his chest so close to your face as he reaches above your head for more bowls? Why does he smell like a wet dream? Push the thoughts away.

“I don’t want you hurting yourself and dropping her in an accident.”

“I won’t drop her.”

“Knock on the cabinets immediately! That is bad luck,” you do as he says, not pegging him as a superstitious man at all. “I had some chance to think about it. I think on Sundays you should have the day off completely unless I’m out of town. Saturdays, is it fair to ask for you to work half a day? Just until around noon?”

“I think that’s fair.”

“And maybe we should not talk about The Verb?”

“The Verb?” What was he even talking about? You notice his eyes flick momentarily to your lap, and you realize how comfortable you had gotten on this counter. Your legs are too far apart. He had to have seen something. Was he disappointed? You didn’t want to disappoint him. You had just started to get to know him. You wanted to prove to him and yourself that you could care for a baby.

“That Chase boy.”

“My boyfriend?” You giggle. Why did he have such an issue with Chase?

“Why is he even your boyfriend?”

“He’s better than a dildo. I mean,” you feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, and have to look at the floor. Missing how big Lloyd’s smile spreads across his smug face. Or the way he is stalking towards you like he’s ready to pounce on his prey. “We’ve been together for awhile, but it’s not that serious.”

“Sweetheart, don’t settle for better than a dildo,” he stands right in front of you. Both hands on your knees as he goes to push your legs apart. Inserting himself in between your thighs. The weird feeling in your tummy returns, and you hate having no panties on as slick floods to your core. Throat dry as his finger touches your chin and lifts your face up to look at him. “And when I’m speaking to you, I expect you to look me in the eyes, do you understand?”

You nod your head slowly, but he clicks his tongue, “And I expect you to verbally answer in my home. Little head gestures are easily misinterpreted, okay?”

“Okay,” he raises an eyebrow, wanting you to finish your sentence, but words are impossible, and your brain is mush. Everything is delayed as you feel the heat between you and Lloyd, “I understand.”

“If you need something better than a dildo and more than The Verb just use your words,” what the fuck does that even mean? He steps away from you much quicker than he inserted himself. The air in the room is heavy and stifling, and you wonder if you even knew how to breathe without reminding yourself to inhale and exhale.

“Do you like creamy ramen or brothy?” This bastard is really changing the subject. You can’t even think with the two heartbeats you feel. One inside your chest, while the other is between your thighs and throbbing. Why is your heart beating so fast? Why is your body betraying you?

“I don’t think I’ve had creamy.”

“You want to get me the heavy whipping cream?” He gives you a cheeky smile when you jump off the counter and head towards the fridge.

“Why are you asking me to do all these things?”

“Because you listen so well,” you pause before reaching for the heavy whipping cream, and turn to look at him.

“What is this?” He’s playing a sick game. He had to be. He saw this ‘vulnerable little girl’ that he had to save. You didn’t need saving, you were fine all on your own.

“You’re very well behaved. Your mother did a good job. Until just now you didn’t even question it. Just did as I asked,” what is he getting at? He is talking in riddles, or backwards, or you are just reading too much into whatever this exchange is. Keeping your mouth closed for the rest of the evening.

Keeping your eyes off him as you squirm around uncomfortably in your seat. Is this uncomfortable because of him? Or are you weirded out because you are feeling things because of him. If you look up, you’d see him smiling as he watches the weird inner turmoil going on in your head.

Finishing before you, he stands up to put his bowl in the dishwasher. Walking past you towards his bedroom, he stops. “And Dolly?”

“Yes?” You ask, turning around in your chair.

“When you leave your room make sure you have on panties,” oh. My. God. He knew. He saw. He didn’t say anything until now. “Because next time I won’t force myself to stop my need to lean you over the counter and spank your ass.”

“Okay,” you didn’t know how to respond to that, and you couldn’t believe how your body was internalizing his words. Heat. Fire. Desire. Embarrassment. Lust. How you have immediate visions of Lloyd doing just that, and spreading your cheeks to see if he made you wet. He did. Uncomfortably so.

“Good girl, I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” he needs a cold shower. He needs away from you because his cock has been at full mast since you questioned why he was asking you to gather things for him. You could try to deny it, but he turned you on as much as you turned him on.

And yet here is your employer, and you are just the sweet au pair with daddy issues. No matter what you say. And he supposes he’s the sick bastard that didn’t mind teasing you. Giving you something to think about. Options? Something for the spank bank? He hopes you go to bed wet and frustrated. Wake up to needing to fuck your own fingers as you think about the close proximity he had to you.

He hopes that you are dripping with need for his cock, and his care and protection. And he hopes that a cold shower is enough to get visions of you yipping with every smack to your ass. That you would be the perfect and obedient girl for him. Woman. Girl sounded gross in this context. Thank you, Roman for making sure your daughter had daddy issues. But fuck him for not loving his daughter the way you deserved.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @pandaxnienke @theinheriteddutchess @rainydayandmondays @buckybarnesisdaddy @patzammit @xoxo-ls @rebeccapineapple @slutforchrisjamalevans @marvel-wifey-86 @jesevans @ughdontbeboring @infantasywonderland @vampy-doll @i-like-to-read-13 @missacidburn928 @charmedasylum @honeyhoneylovelylove @superflannel @hisredheadedgoddess28 @ughdontbeboring @lostinspace33 @abbyyourlocalmilf @saranghaey

[onsunnyside]

OMG LLYOD HANSEN 😮‍💨😮‍💨 , can you pretty pls do a dbf Lloyd running into you at a bar and fucking u in his car ?!

ˏˋ𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ♡⋆* 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞

now hear me out… he fucks your ass:

“Knew this would shut you up.” Lloyd spits down where you meet, watching his salvia slip down your stretched hole. “Little brat just needed a cock in her ass. It’s a good thing I was here tonight, can’t have you giving your holes to some other bastard.” 

His phone beeps and he actually checks it, showing you the screen. “Look who it is—your dad is wondering where you are. Should I tell him you sneaked out with your friends?” You mumble uselessly around your panties, craning your neck to meet his gaze. “Daddy can’t hear you, dumb baby. Did you say to call him?”

A moment later, he’s slowly thrusting into your puckered hole, gripping your hip tightly as your father voices his concern for your absence. You’re trembling under Lloyd, digging your nails into the leather seat of his car with your heel hanging off your foot. It falls to the floor as he sinks deep, his heavy balls flush against your soaked cunt. 

“I think I know where she could’ve gone, this new club opened up.” Lloyd rasps, grinding into you deeply, filling you to the brim. “Yeah, yeah—I’ll get her, and bring her right back. Oh, I’ll make sure she’s on her best behaviour, don’t worry about that.”

[colesluvr]

hey! i saw u were taking reqs and was very excited because the ninjago x reader fandom is so small and nobody weites for it that isn’t like 9😭

so i hope you wouldn’t mind writing lloyd garmadon x gn/fem reader who is a normal civilian who befriended him and they had an oblivious best friends to lovers trope headcanons or scenario? sorry if thats way too specific lmao

anyways have a good day, xoxo <3

The Boy Dressed In Green | Lloyd Garmadon x GN Reader

(Part One)

HI ANON!! tysm for requesting, I really hope this is somewhat of what you wanted. I decided to make this into two parts where in part two Lloyd will confess to Y/N. It's just there's so many words here already, I don't want to bored anybody half way, lmao. ENJOY READING! COMMENTS AN REBLOGS ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED! 🫶

M/N = mothers name

F/N = fathers name

This wasn't like you at all.

Ok. That's a lie.

This is you.

The early morning sunlight shines though your closed window curtains, a line of light reflected itself on the floor. Soft snores escaped your lips as you were fast asleep on the bed in your small, roomy bedroom. Blankets and pillows were everywhere and your mouth was gaped open as you snored.

Very slowly your body turned to the side by the edge of the bed. You're fingers twitched as you slowly rolled off. A sudden force of adreniline forced you to wake up as you fell to the floor, a "AH!" escaped your lips as you stood up in a fighting position.

You blew your bang sout of your eyes as you tried to find your alarm clock. It was on your dresser beside your bed, but you know morning eyes?

You're more blinder then a drunk driver at night.

Your eyes soon met the alarm clock and you read the numbers. "6:45..." You whispered to yourself, rubbing your eyes until you paused to think.

"6: 45?!" You cried out, now fully awake as you climbed over your bed and rumaged through your dressers. You grabbed a basic t-shirt and a pair of denium jeans before throwing your top off and struggled to take your pants off as you were trying to take off and put on different clothes at the same time.

"MOOOM!"

Your mother smiled to herself hearing you scream her name from upstairs as she sat on the couch in the living room of your small apartment/house you managed to call home for 16 years.

"YOU TOLD ME YOU'LL WAKE ME UP IN TIME FOR SCHOOL!"

Your mum, M/N, placed her cup of coffee/tea/water on the coffee table and swtiched on the teleivision, scrolling through various of channels to choose.

You ran from your bedroom to the bathroom as your yelled at your mother, who still had a smile on her face as she replied over your cry as you fell to the floor, but quickly got up and ran around upstairs in a panicked state.

"You told me you'll be waking yourself today, hun."

"AND YOU BELEIVED ME?!"

Suddenly, your father stepped out of his bedroom he and your mum shared wearing his suit and tie with black dress pants, ready to drive to work. You were caught off guard by this and yelped as you almost ran into him, but he reacted quickly by lifting you off the ground and twirled around, placing your feet back on the ground as you ran back into the bathroom with your toothbrush in mouth and toothpaste in hand with a cup.

"Watch where your going, sweetheart. Almost made me mess up my beautiful tie work." He pouts, but chuckles hearing your muffled 'SORRY' from the other side of the door.

"My reflexes were so quick, I could be one of those 'Ninja's' you keep talking on and on about, Y/N." Your dad joked and laughed hearing your groan from the bathroom.

His wife's laughter caused him to look down the staircase to see M/N by the end of the railing looking up at her husband. "Believe me, F/N. If you were ever to become a Ninja you'll be in a hospital bed because someone threw your back out."

"It was that one time, M/N. And those kids were ruthless!" Your dad argued as your mum chuckled softly. You finally ran out of the bathroom with a new clothes on, brushed hair, and a pair of fresh clean teeth.

You pushed past your father as he walked down the stairs to give your mum a quick 'good morning' kiss on the lips before going to the kitchen.

You ran back into your room. Grabbed your backpack, stuffed it with your laptop, binders, notebooks, notes and your pencil case. You grabbed your phone charger and phone, running out of your room not even bothering to close the door, make your bed, or turn off your TV/lights.

You ran down the stairs, well more like slid down the railing, and ran into the kitchen to try and find some food. Meanwhile your father was waiting for the water to boil to make his morning coffee. "This is the 3rd time, Y/N." He teased as you grabbed some leftover pizza from the fridge and threw it microwave for 1 min. You bounced your leg as you replied and waited for the food.

"Yeah, I know. I asked mum to wake me up in time but apparently he believes me when I say I'll wake myself up. HAVE EITHER OF YOU MET ME?"

The beeping of the microwave didn't even have time to stop as you opened the door and grabbed the pizza. You kissed your dad on the cheek, and ran to your mum to kiss her cheek as you ran to the front,

With the pizza in your mouth you put on your shoes and unlocked the door. "Uh, hun. I could drive you if you'd like-" "Nope. To much traffic. I'll run. Love you both, cya later! MWAH!"

And in less then two seconds the door was closed and both your parents looked at eahc other. "What are we going to do with them." Your mum joked as your dad shrugged, pouring his water in his cup. "Listen to them when they say they'll wake themselves on time for school?"

M/N looked at her husband with an unamused face before going to wash her plate.

-

The summer breezed hits your face like a train as you raced the streets to get to school. Normally it takes you 15 mins to get to school on wheels, but on foot? Takes you 25 mins at the lastes. Maybe you should have taken your mum's offer driving you. School starts at 7 and it was 6: 58. Not really the best time to leave for school.

You were already out of breath when you made it to the main street of your neighborhood. You passed many other's walking and staring at you with confusion, but some didn't pay much attention.

Your backpack was barely on your shoulder, hell it was only supported on one as you ran. You had to keep pulling it back up as you ran.

The main street was long, so it took you around 10 min's to reach the end where the traffic lights were. The light was green so you had to wait in order to continue running to school. You jogged on the spot, ready to start running once more.

When the light turned red you started to run down the road. You reached the middle and that's when many things for you changed.

A noodle truck not to far down the road was driving at full speed. The only time you saw it was when a horn honked. You looked to the sound to see the truck race it way towards you, not planning on stopping for you.

You felt your stomach drop.

Your legs froze.

Why the fuck am I not moving?! You mentally swore to yourself as the truck got closer.

You felt like a deer in headlights.

Suddenly you heard a voice, possibly telling you to watch out but to you it was incoherent. You felt someone's arm wrap around your waist as you were dragged to the ground on the sidewalk.

It was all a blur. Who the heck- What just happened?

You watched as the truck drove off, two figures on the top of it that wore blue and red outfits, and then another vechile zoomed by leaving a dust trail. An aircraft flew above, following the run-a-way truck.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

You composed yourself long enough to look up at your savor. Your eyes made eye contact with green eyes. Bright, neon green eyes. The rest of the person's face was covered by a green mask.

Wait a second-

"Lloyd? Lloyd, are you there?" A voice was heard but it was only loud enough for the two to hear.

"Kai? Yeah, yeah. I'm here."

Kai? You thought as the boy dressed in green stood up.

"Are you alright?" He asked again, ignoring his teammates shouting over his com, and this time you answered hesitantly. "I-uh. Yeah, yeah. I'm good." You stood to your feet, wiping the dirt off your clothes. To th best of your ability.

"You're-You're the Green Ninja....I was just saved by the Green fucking Ninja!" You were astonhised. You'd never thought in forever you would meet your favorite Ninja of the team.

"Omg- I- This is not how I- I mean you just saved my life- I thought I would like meet you in a different way- I don't mean that in a weird way- I mean I don't know- I'm not weird- You're weird. Fuck-"

"Hey." The Ninja placed a hand on your shouler, and your eyes once again met his green eyes that stared deep into your's. "As long as your alright, I'm always glad to meet a fan."

You smiled to yourself, 'no fucking way this is actually happening right now' Your thoughts were interuppted by another voice. "Lloyd! We gotta split. Police are here to pick up the Mechanic and once again the Commisioner want's to congratulate us personally. I mean seriously, he does this all the tiem. I mean thank you for the praise, but I just want to go hooome. My feet are sore. I chased after a a truck going full speed, and I'm so tired I could just-"

"Don't worry, Jay. I'll be there in a sec'."

The Blue Ninja, which made you want to squeal your entire lungs out, groaned as he walked back to the Ninja group. The Green Ninja, Lloyd, looked back at you. "What's your name?" He smiled under the mask, but the way he sounded made you think he was smiling. "Y/N." You felt your stomach flutter with butterfiles as he pulled his hood down.

"Lloyd."

-

Ever since that day, you occasionally run into Lloyd every now and then during school lunches at after school. At first you found it out of the ordinary, but now you kinda got used to it. Of course there were some days where he isn't there but that never bothered you too much.

You've know Lloyd for 2 months now and your life has been getting secreter by the second. Your parents asked where you've been after school and why you come home later then usual but you just say you were studying with friends.....of course one of your friends being the legendary Green Ninja, but lets not go into any detail about who's friends with who.

It wasn't only your family questioning you, Lloyd had his own problems with the Ninja about you. They didn't know anything about you and because Lloyd's hanging out with you alot they're worried he'll get you hurt or himself hurt. Who know's what you will do to him, you could be a villain. Or worse, you could just be using him to get what you want.

No one can be for sure.

He told his friends you seem like a nice person, and if he catches you doing something sketchy he'll say something right away. Even Master Wu questioned Lloyd's actions but know's he knows what Lloyd is doing when making new friends.

You never actually met any of the other Ninja, other then hearing facts from your other friends who are fans of them, but Lloyd told you stories nobody but he knows about and it leaves you both laughing your asses off for days.

You never knew your savor's of Ninjago could be this funny, They all seem so focused and serious under their masks but once you take the mask off, it's like there entierly new people. Espicially Lloyd.

He was most childish of the group, matching Jay's energy, but you notice he's been acting more himself when he's around you. He talks more, laughs more, shares things with you. You liked it.

5 months now went by, and over the months you were finally able to meet the Ninja team. They grew closer to you over time, but it did take some time for them to fully earn your trust, But they still talked and asked how your day's been going.

Master Wu once time assumed you and Lloyd were both dating, causing you both to blush a deep shade of red and the others to snicker. He aplogized for the miscommunication and no body spoke of that again.

That was now weeks ago.

You and Lloyd have know each other for 8 months now, and have also gotten much closer.

Until one evening, when Lloyd and Kai had a chance to talk. At first it was a normal bro to bro conversation until it went quiet, and Lloyd was unsure if this was the great time to bring this up.

Kai noticed, and seriously couldn't help but know the deets. He knows it's about you and him, he can see it by the way Lloyd reacts when the others talk about you.

"How's Y/N been, Lloyd? Haven't seen them in a while." Cole asked and Lloyd began to stummer, "I-uh. They-They're okay. I-I saw them couple days ago, yeah, the seem fine." Lloyd replied and ran, causing Cole to ask the others if they know if something happened between Lloyd and you.

They all said they didn't know, but Kai had a gut feeling something deeper was going down then just 'something happened'. He's been in this situation with other people before, so he's pretty skilled with the 'relationship' slopes. Even if he does get rejected or does the rejecting.

"This is about Y/N, ain't it?" Kai whispered over to Lloyd as the Green Ninja fiddled with his thumbs while the TV was playing. Kai had a grin on his face as he ate his snack while Lloyd started to blush softly and stummer. "I-uh- Is-Is what about Y-Y/N?"

"This, dude!" Kai laughed, motioning Lloyd's actions. "You're nervousness, shyness, this 'blushyness?' and the way you act when people even mention their name!"

Lloyd blushed a deeper shade of red as he tired to his hismelf under his mask and the pillows on the couch. "Ah, younge love. WHo hasn't been through it before...besides Lloyd." Kai spoke aloud to nobody, but still it caused Lloyd to grumble as he pulled his knees to his chest.

"I just..I feel...more happy when I'm around them. I mean, of course you guys makes me happy, but Y/N just makes me feel...happy?" Lloyd paused to think before groaning in embarrassment, "GAH! This is too confusing!"

Kai sighed, putting his feet down from the table, turned the TV off, put his snack to the side and stood to his feet. He stood in front of Lloyd and stayed like that for a couple of seconds.

"What?" Lloyd muffled voice was heard from under his mask and Kai pulled him up, still sitting on the couch, and pulled his mask down.

"I'm about to teach you a few things about asking somebody to be with them!"

Lloyd stared at him with a confused look...Moments of silence went by and Kai spoke embarrassingly,

"Okay. Yeah, there was a better way to phrase that but you know what I mean. When we're done, you'll be The Master of Flirting instead of Of The Master of Energy-"

"Okay. Stop talking. This is embarrassing enough already, let's just get this over with." Lloyd's face showed annoyance but on the inside he was bouncing all over the place.

This will end horribly. Lloyd told himself as Kai followed him to the courtyard with his hands behind his head.

[justmystyles]

Family Portrait

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 1.4k

summary: Harry has a couple of heartfelt surprises for you while you're visiting him on tour.

warnings: a couple of curse words, but other than that, it's tame.

a/n: this is what happens when @allthelovehes and i are left unsupervised. i say 'that should be a fic' about pretty much anything, and she enables me. it's is pure, unadulterated cheesy stupid fluff. read at your own risk. it's also another excuse to post that annoyingly sexy sunglasses gif.

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

You stood in the empty stadium, marveling at the size of the space that would soon be packed to the gills with people there to see your boyfriend. No matter how many times you visited Harry on tour, you would never get used to the amount of people who shared your love for the wonderful man that you get to call yours. 

You were pulled from your thoughts by a light squeak, followed by the feel of something tapping your foot. You look down with a smile to see your dog, Polly, staring up at you panting with her signature smile, her eyes flitting back and forth between you and her pink ball, as her tail wagged uncontrollably. 

The two of you had been inseparable since the day you adopted her four years ago. When you started dating Harry, you made sure he knew that the two of you were a package deal. Luckily, he was happy to accept that and fell in love with the little chiweenie himself, quickly becoming her doggie dad, and insisting that she join you when you visit him on tour. 

“Alright one more, then we’ve gotta go find your dad.” You picked up the ball, throwing it across what would, in a couple of hours, be the pit. After every soundcheck, while Harry reviewed notes with the band and technical staff, you and Polly would play fetch in the venue, getting her good and tuckered out so that she would sleep soundly backstage during the show, allowing you to go out and watch Harry perform. 

This time, when Polly returned, you tapped your thigh lightly and walked toward the backstage area. She trotted along beside you, proudly carrying her ball. As you walked the halls, everyone would stop to greet Polly, who would immediately drop to her back, demanding belly rubs. She had become the unofficial tour mascot winning the hearts of everyone on the crew. 

When you reached Harry’s dressing room, you knocked softly on the door waiting for him to respond. When he called for you to come in, you opened the door and Polly bounded over the threshold and moving straight to the couch where Harry was sitting, she jumped up on top of him, frantically licking his face. He chuckled at the display, allowing her a few kisses before pulling her away and flipping her so he could rub her belly. 

“I wish your mother would get that excited to see me.” He said, making eye contact with you as you entered the room. 

You stick out your tongue and throw your middle finger in his direction. When you hear a clicking sound, you look to your left and see Lloyd taking pictures of the interaction. “Oh sorry, did I interrupt?” You asked, leaning down to give Harry a kiss, Polly jumping between the two of you to prevent being left out. 

“No, you’re good. I have a surprise for you actually, and I asked Lloyd to document it.” He said as you took a seat beside him. He lifted Polly off of him and handed her to you before standing up and retrieving a bag from the other side of the room. You crane your neck, trying to look into the bag. “Uh, uh, uh,” Harry chided. “Patience, my love.” 

He places the bag on a nearby coffee table, and reaches in pulling out a black track jacket holding it up on display. You immediately notice the Love on Tour logo on one side, and your name monogrammed on the other. “You got me a tour jacket?” Your eyes went wide. 

“I know you’ve been wanting one.” He was right, you’d been jealous of the jackets since he’d shown you the original mock ups. But you didn’t want to ask for one, since you didn’t actually work on the tour. “Plus, now you can stop stealing mine.” 

You shoved him gently as you approached him, taking the jacket in your hands before wrapping your arms around him and kissing him. “You like when I wear your jackets.”

“That I do,” he hummed, kissing you once more before pulling away. “Wait, I have more.”

Your brow furrows as you watch him reach back into the bag, pulling out a significantly smaller jacket. “Shut the fuck up.” You say in awe when you see the tiny jacket, the back of it embellished with the tour logo, as well as Polly’s name. 

Harry chuckled at your reaction. “I got jealous that the two of you already had matching tracksuits without me. Now we have a full family set.” He notices your eyes start to water and he pulls you against his chest and kisses the top of your head. “Princess, you’re crying over a dog jacket.” 

He feels you shake your head against him before he hears your muffled words. “You called us a family.” You pull back, looking in his eyes. “You’ve never said that before.” 

“I thought, at this point, it was implied.” He joked. “If you cried at that, you’re going to positively lose it at the next part.” You look at him curiously. “Once you two put them on, Lloyd is going to take family photos for us.” 

“Ugh!” You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Great plan, make me cry, get my eyes nice and puffy and then take a bunch of pictures of me.”

“I’ve got nothing but time until the show, if you want to take some time to freshen up.” Lloyd suggested. 

“Yes, please.” You sing-songed. “I just need like five to splash my face with water and toss on a little makeup.”

A few minutes later, you had fixed your face and stepped out in your new jacket with a fresh face of makeup to find Harry on the couch, Polly in his lap. Both of them were wearing their jackets. You observed the two of them, your heart feeling full and your mind willing away the tears that threatened to fall at the sight. 

“It fits her okay?” You ask, getting Harry’s attention.

“Like a glove,” He held the small dog up, showing her off. He stood from the couch stepping up to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “Ready?”

“Yeah, you want to go grab Lloyd?” 

“We’re meeting him on location.” You give him a questioning look and he takes your hand, leading out of the dressing room and down the hall, carrying Polly with his free hand. 

You keep walking until you find yourself back in the stadium, Lloyd waiting on the stage for you. You look up at Harry who’s already looking at you. “On the stage?” 

“They’re tour jackets, it makes sense.” He shrugged. 

The photo shoot began the second Lloyd saw you approaching the stage. You take a variety of pictures, there’s a good mix of candids and posed shots, serious and silly. All in all, you spent about fifteen minutes taking photos, a crowd gathering once word got out what you were up to.

When you were finished, you took a look around and realized how right Harry truly was when he called you a family. But it wasn’t just the three of you, it was so much more. Harry had built this incredible family of people from different walks of life, all over the world. In that moment, you felt overwhelmed with love for your boyfriend, you leaned in closer to his side and let out a content sigh. 

“You okay?” He asked, looking down at you with a slight expression of worry. 

You nodded your head with a smile. “You’re pretty amazing, you know that right?”

“I do,” he said with an obnoxious grin. “But it's nice to hear every now and then.” He leaned down pressing his lips to yours in a lingering kiss. 

You were startled apart by Polly’s bark. You both looked down and laughed at her attempts to reach you from the floor. You leaned down, pulling her into your arms. “God, she’s even needier than you are.” You groaned.

“Heeeeyyyy.” He whined. “Apology kiss.” He closed his eyes and puckered his lips. You held Polly up to his face and she immediately started licking him. He opened his eyes with a grumpy expression. “That’s going to cost you much more than just an apology kiss.” 

“Oh, I know.” You smirked. “That’s why I did it.” You winked and gave him a playful tap on his rear before making your way back to his dressing room.