#college!lloyd hansen

[deliciousangelfestival]

Let Me Love You - 6

Character: college!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: On a mysterious, rainy night, Bucky witnesses a distressing encounter involving his crush.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 ,Chapter 8.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Please let me know what your thoughts are. I'd love to hear your feedback. Thank you once again.

Leaving Lloyd stunned by the reveal that Bucky turned out to be one of the wealthiest persons in the country, Bucky led you over to his table.

You were half-stunned too, your mind reeling with the sudden revelation. "Wait… you—" you began, struggling to find the right words.

Bucky, appearing somewhat awkward under the unexpected attention, interjected, "Are you surprised?"

You nodded slowly, still trying to process the information. "Mmh," you murmured, a mix of awe and disbelief evident in your voice.

Bucky chuckled nervously, attempting to downplay the situation. "It's my father's business, haha. Not mine. But I want you to meet him."

The realization hit you like a bolt of lightning. Does this mean you're going to meet the CEO?

Quickly, you smoothed down your hair and straightened your clothes, trying to compose yourself for the encounter.

Meanwhile, Michael returned from speaking with Lloyd, though you hardly noticed, your attention completely consumed by the impending introduction to the CEO. Unbeknownst to you, Lloyd's gaze lingered on you from afar, his expression unreadable.

As Michael approached, he extended his hand toward you, a warm smile gracing his features. "Hello, Y/N. Nice to meet you," he greeted, his tone friendly and inviting.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” you replied, your voice tinged with nervousness as you addressed the boss of your boss. Despite your apprehension, Michael's friendly and humble demeanor put you at ease, much like Bucky's.

Meanwhile, Nicky bit her nail nervously, her thoughts racing as she grappled with the sudden realization that being with Lloyd, the popular guy on campus, paled in comparison to Bucky's family wealth and influence.

Once accustomed to being the center of attention due to her father's status, Nicky now was overshadowed by the prestige associated with Bucky's family.

No longer the belle of the night, she received no compliments or attempts to impress her, a stark contrast to her previous experiences.

Frustrated and perhaps resentful, Nicky grabbed her phone and began typing furiously, reflecting on her inner turmoil and uncertainty about her place in this new dynamic. Only time would reveal the true extent of her intentions.

*****

After the party, Bucky dropped you off at your apartment building. As you exited the car, a sense of unexpected gratitude washed over you. You had anticipated hating tonight, yet you found yourself enjoying it instead.

Typically overshadowed by Lloyd's presence, you often found yourself relegated to small talk, only engaging when prompted. However, tonight was different. Bucky and his father had actively included you in their conversations, making you feel valued and appreciated.

"Thank you so much," you expressed sincerely, looking at Bucky as if he were an angel sent to rescue you from the otherwise dreadful night.

"Good night," Bucky nodded in response, his gaze lingering on you as you closed the door and made your way inside.

Once alone in his car, Bucky drove back to his apartment, his thoughts lingering on the evening's events. Upon parking, he noticed a familiar car nearby.

Curiosity piqued, he approached the vehicle and knocked on the back seat window. To his surprise, the window rolled down, revealing his father inside.

"That's her, right?" Michael's voice cut through the night air, his tone carrying a hint of amusement.

Bucky glanced at his father, feigning innocence. "What do you mean?" he replied, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

"Don't lie to me, boy. I was once young too, you know," Michael retorted, his gaze penetrating.

Bucky chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "Hehe," he muttered, unable to suppress a sheepish grin.

His father's next question caught him off guard. "Are you mad? I suddenly call you to come here and make an appearance," Bucky asked, concern evident in his voice.

"It's my son's request. How could I ignore it?" Michael responded, his tone softening with paternal affection. "Besides, you rarely ask for anything."

"Thanks, Dad," Bucky replied, gratitude shining in his eyes as he exchanged a meaningful glance with his father.

Then, Michael's gaze turned probing. "You like her?" he inquired, his voice gentle yet probing.

Bucky nodded without hesitation, his heart suddenly feeling lighter with the admission. "I do," he confessed, his voice earnest and sincere.

A proud smile spread across Michael's face. "A quick, honest answer. That's a real man," he remarked approvingly before rolling up the window and leaving Bucky to his thoughts.

🎓

As you walked into the university like usual, you couldn't shake the feeling that all eyes were on you, whispers following your every step. Dismissing it as mere paranoia, you made your way to your seat and sat down, hoping to ignore the incessant murmurs.

But the whispers persisted, growing louder until one of your classmates nervously approached you.

"Y/N?" she called out, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

You turned to her, a questioning expression on your face. "Hmm?" you responded, curious as to what she had to say.

"Is this true?" she asked, holding out her phone for you to see. The screen displayed a news headline in bold red font, the words striking a nerve you had hoped to forget after leaving your hometown.

"Hysterical local woman screams in the middle of the road because of her cheating husband."

The words hit you like a sledgehammer, dredging up painful memories you had buried deep within your psyche.

The article depicted the turmoil of your family's unraveling, captured in a moment of anguish as your mother's cries echoed in the street, desperately trying to stop your father from leaving town after his infidelity was exposed.

You remembered the photo accompanying the article, the image of your mother's despair etched into your memory, and your own face blurred out because of privacy.

The silent solidarity of your hometown community proved to be a saving grace amid the turmoil caused by the resurfacing of painful memories.

Recognizing the deep-seated pain your mother had endured, those who knew each other decided unanimously to keep the news from spreading further.

It was a testament to the empathy and compassion that bound the community together, a shared understanding of the need to protect and respect your family's privacy.

In a gesture of collective empathy, the articles were swiftly taken down, erasing the painful reminders of past traumas. It was a small yet significant act of kindness, shielding you from further anguish and allowing you the space to heal in peace.

As you processed the weight of the revelation, a shiver ran down your spine. The realization that only you and Lloyd knew about your family's painful past cast a shadow of dread over you.

Closing your eyes, you couldn't suppress the tremble coursing through your body.

This was what Lloyd meant by a "crazy mother-in-law," the hidden reason behind his parents' apparent disapproval of you.

Was this his way of expressing his anger?

Was he holding a grudge against you for something beyond your control?

The weight settled heavily on your shoulders, the implications sinking in with each passing moment. It was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that the person you used to love and grew up with harbored such resentment towards you, all because of a past you couldn't change.

Feeling a mixture of betrayal and hurt, you couldn't help but wonder how long this revelation had been festering beneath the surface, poisoning your relationship with Lloyd from within.

As you stormed out of the classroom, consumed by anger, you barely registered Bucky's greeting as you passed by him. "Good morning..." he called out, his voice trailing off as he watched you go.

Bucky wonders what's wrong with you. This could be the first time he saw you look this angry.

Their fellow classmates exchanged worried glances, sensing the tension in the air. Steve sighed heavily, explaining the situation to Bucky. "This article is on the college homepage," he informed him.

Bucky's eyes narrowed with fury as he read the article, his anger evident in his expression. "Someone tried to embarrass her. Using her family issues? It's a privacy violation. She could sue that person," he muttered, his voice laced with indignation.

Though his words were spoken softly, the intensity of his anger was palpable. Those nearby paused in their gossip, their attention drawn to Bucky's righteous indignation.

The realization that Bucky, with his influential family background, was taking a stand in defense of your privacy silenced them immediately.

Recognizing the potential repercussions of their actions, they hastily deleted their comments on the article, understanding that stirring up controversy with someone connected to such power was unwise.

🏈

Lloyd's grip tightened around the weights as he tried to channel his mounting frustration into his workout. The rhythmic clank of metal against metal provided a brief respite from the storm raging inside him.

His solitude was abruptly interrupted by the arrival of his fellow teammates, their voices pulling him back to the present moment.

"Have you seen the university news bulletin?" they asked, their expressions tense with anticipation.

Lloyd shook his head dismissively. "Nobody reads any news from that," he replied, his voice laced with disdain.

But as they showed him the article, his heart sank. With growing disbelief, he read the words printed before him, his mind struggling to comprehend the gravity of what he was seeing.

"What?" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, his brows furrowing in confusion.

And then, amidst the clangor of the gym, a voice cut through the noise like a knife. "Lloyd!"

Turning abruptly, Lloyd's gaze met yours, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of your furious expression. As you stormed towards him, your eyes ablaze with anger, he felt a pang of guilt wash over him, realizing the extent of the pain he had caused you.

Meeting your gaze, he could see the raw hurt reflected in your eyes, and the weight of his actions settled heavily on his shoulders. "How dare you!" you exclaimed, your voice trembling with emotion.

"I thought you understood how painful this was for me. You were there the whole time. How could you do this to me?"

As your words hung heavy in the air, Lloyd felt the crushing weight of his betrayal, knowing that he had caused you more pain than he ever intended.

With a heavy heart, he searched for the right words to express his remorse, but the damage had already been done, and he could only watch helplessly as you stood before him, your trust in him shattered.

As Lloyd reached out to touch your shoulder, seeking to offer some semblance of comfort, you recoiled from his touch, the pain of betrayal still fresh in your mind.

His expression softened as he realized the depth of your mistrust. "It wasn't me," he began, his voice tinged with remorse. "I'm a jerk. I know that. But this is not me."

You wiped away your tears, your gaze piercing as you challenged him. "Then who? Only you and me know about this."

Lloyd opened his mouth to respond, but his words caught in his throat as a sudden realization washed over him. His heart sank as he remembered the one person he had confided in about your family's struggles: Nicky.

"Nicky," he muttered, his voice filled with dread as he pieced together the puzzle. Without another word, he hurriedly left the gym, his eyes scanning the surroundings in search of her.

But she was nowhere to be found, leaving him to grapple with the consequences of his mistake and the damage it had caused to your fragile trust.

Gritting his teeth in frustration, Lloyd cursed under his breath. The realization that Nicky's loose lips had cost him any hope of reconciliation with you gnawed at him like a festering wound.

Anger boiled within him as he realized this spoiled princess had ruined his chances of earning your trust back.

As he glanced back at you, the look of pure hatred in your eyes cut him to the core. It was a stark reminder of the depth of the betrayal you felt and the certainty that you would never forgive him this time.

At that moment, Lloyd knew that he had lost you. The love and affection you once held for him had been replaced by an unbridled hatred, leaving him to grapple with the consequences of his actions and the bitter taste of regret.

You hate him.

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Author Note:

Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account. Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating. Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes au #james bucky buchanan barnes #buckybarnes #james bucky barnes #college!reader #college!bucky #college steve rogers #college au #bucky fanfic #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x you #marvel au #the grey man au #college!lloyd hansen #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #chris evans characters #steve rogers #bucky fanfiction #bucky fandom

[myfanficlibraries]

Multiple Characters

Series

1) Attic Wives Anonymous by @foxgloveprincess       Characters: Andy Barber, Ari Levinson, Jake Jensen, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale, Robert Pronge       Dark       Ongoing

2) Brat Taming by @imaginedreamwrite       A/B/O Dynamics       Characters: Ari Levinson, Jake Jensen, Ransom Drysdale, Steve Rogers       Ongoing

3) Conclave by @late-to-the-party-81       Apocalypse AU       Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers       Soft Dark

4) Fantasy Hotel by @deandoesthingstome       Characters: August Walker, Captain Syverson, Geralt of Rivia, Hellraiser!Mike, Walter Marshall       Ongoing       Smut

4) More Hearts Than Mine by @imaginedreamwrite       Characters: Ari Levinson, Jake Jensen, Skinny!Steve Rogers       College AU       Ongoing

5) Mrs. Claus Show by @imyourbratzdoll       WARNING: Dangerous levels of delightful silliness!       Also a good amount of smut.       Characters: Ari Levinson, Bucky, Curtis Everett, Frank Adler, Jake Jensen, Lee Bodecker, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale, Steve Rogers       Ongoing

6) Ruby Garden by @biteofcherry       BDSM       Characters: Andy Barber, Ari Levinson, Bucky Barnes, Curtis Everett, Lloyd Hansen, Nick Fowler, Steve Rogers       Ongoing

7) The Assistant by @holylulusworld       Characters: Andy Barber, Ari Levinson, Curtis Everett, Jake Jensen, Lloyd Hansen, Mike Weiss, Steve Rogers       Ongoing       Plus Size Reader

8) The Club AU by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor       Characters: Bucky Barnes, Curtis Everett, Lee Bodecker, Loki, Thor       Dark       Ongoing     

9) The Sun, the Moon, and the Stars by @crazyunsexycool       A/B/O Dynamics       Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers       Ongoing

#ari levinson #alpha!ari levinson #college!ari levinson #bucky barnes #grinch!bucky #andy barber #curtis everett #jake jensen #omega!Jake Jensen #college!jake jensen #lloyd hansen #mike weiss #steve rogers #alpha!steve rogers #skinny!steve rogers #college!steve rogers #lee bodecker #ransom drysdale #alpha!ransom drysdale #frank adler #walter marshall #captain syverson #geralt of rivia #august walker

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

Roo’s Campus AU Masterlist

First Semester (Timeline)

Book Smart (Steve Rogers, MCU)

Below Average (Lloyd Hansen, The Gray Man)

Overdue (Curtis Everett, Snowpiercer)

Straightlaced (Andy Barber, Defending Jacob)

Apple of His Eye (Jake Jensen, The Losers)

Heated (Johnny Storm, Fantastic Four)

Quick Study (Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, MCU)

Second Semester

Fresh Meat (Thor, MCU)

Messy (Bucky Barnes, MCU)

Unspoken Crimes (Frank Castle and Billy Russo, The Punisher, MCU)

Prerequisite (Ransom Drysdale, Knives Out)

#campus au #au #college au #mcu #marvel #chris evans #jake jensen #curtis everett #steve rogers #andy barber #johnny storm #dark fic #dark!fic #fic #series #lloyd hansen #the gray man #captain america #defending jacob #fantastic four #the losers #snowpiercer

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Below Average

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, age gap, power imbalance, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your new professor gives you a hard time. (plus sized reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: Hope you like Professor Lloyd. This is the second installment in my college AU starting with Steve in this fic. Each reader will have a defined nickname when appearing in any installment not their own.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Donkey love Waffles. Take care. 💖

"You got Hansen, huh?" Cami pulls your schedule towards her as she hovers at the end of your desk.

"I guess," you say as you anxiously check your bag, making sure you have everything you need for your first day, "why?"

"My sister had him too. She hated him. Hard ass apparently," she flicks the paper back to you.

"He's a professor, aren't they all?"

"Uh, sure but he has a reputation."

"Reputation?"

"He made my sister's friend cry for being five minutes late. Humiliated her in front of the whole class."

"Jesus, can't you report that?"

"Doesn't matter if they're tenure," she scoffs.

"Well, it's a required course."

"You could always switch majors," she chuckles.

"Okay, now you're really scaring me," you frown.

"Then you should hurry, don't wanna be late, do ya?"

"God, Cami, tell me you're fucking with me," you stand and sling the backpack over your shoulder.

"I wish I was. I'm just happy he doesn't teach calculus."

"And I'm happy I'm not going insane taking calculus," you huff and swipe up your keys, "I'll just hide in the back row."

"Good luck," she retreats to the hall and waits as you step out and lock the door behind you, "if anything, the first class is easy. Go over the syllabus at most."

"Yeah," you exhale, "well, I hope it goes quick."

"Me and you both."

"You don't have class til five."

"And? Means I'm gonna be late for all the parties."

You roll your eyes, "bye, Cami."

"Aw there she goes," she mocks as you sidle past her, "my little girl off to her first day."

"Shut up," you throw over your shoulder as you pull open the heavy door.

"Love youuuu," she trills after you.

📕

By the time you get to the lecture hall, you're covered in sweat and out of breath. The doors propped open and a smatter of students sit along the first few rows with fuller clusters along the middle. You go to the back and unpack your laptop.

You peer down at the front. There's no one behind the podium.

You nervously fidget with your pen as you watch the clock. At the last minute, a figure strides in and crosses to the podium. He drops his bag on the table and wiggles the mouse as the projector flashes to life, a presentation already queued on the first slide.

He checks his watch as the gesture quiets the buzz of the students and he marches to the door and shuts it without a word. He returns to the center of the room and clears his throat. Silence as he glares down his audience.

"Right, for those on time, congratulations, you're not entirely useless." He begins and you shrink down. You really wanted to believe Cami was lying. "I am your professor, Dr. Hansen. Doctor." He repeats for effect, "we'll start with expectations."

You see a few people exchange looks with their seat partners, though your row is empty except for yourself. There's some whispering and he raises his hand.

"First, when I'm speaking, you're not."

Another deafening dearth of sound strangles the class. Nervous shifting and unpleasant squirming among the crowd.

"Second, no phones." He nears the front row and plucks a cell in a bright pink case from a girl's hand.

"You can't–"

He quiets her with a tilt of his head, "I can't? Tell you what, I'll give you the choice, your phone or your place in this class. We have enrollment limits for a reason and the waiting list is still open."

"I..." she begins and you hear her gulp, even from so far away, "sorry."

"Pick it up in my office," he marches to the table and drops the phone in his bag, "Third, be on time or don't come at all. Classes must be attended and your participation mark is thirty percent of your final grade. I know you're mostly English majors but I trust you can do the math."

The door jiggles but does not open. He sighs and pauses. He goes to the door and opens it as knuckles tap the other side.

"You're late, goodbye." He shuts the door just as swiftly, the stammer muted by the barrier. He turns back to the class, "Do we understand?" 

He waits. Everyone stares. He cups his ear.

"Yes," you all reply in an awkward wave of murmurs.

"Good, now we'll go over office hours, academic policies, and a breakdown of the course structure. After, we'll begin our first lesson."

You see the disappointment in the posture of your classmates. Most first classes don't last the full three hours and the professors are rather loose in their introductions. Hansen is anything but.

"You," he declares suddenly and everyone looks at him, his finger pointing up in your direction, "there's lots of room at the front. I won't have you hiding back there behind a screen. This isn't a theatre?"

You glance around awkwardly. 

"Yes, you," he says, "double time. Now."

You stand and offer a meek apology as you fold up your computer and snatch up your bag. You push the little desk up with your knee and sidle past, descending the steps and claiming an empty seat at the end of a row only two away from him.

"Great, now that we're done wasting time..."

You sink down and open your laptop slowly, careful not to make a noise as you do. No wonder this section was the last one to fill up.

📕

Two weeks and you already feel behind. Not in all your classes, just the one. Hansen's heavy reading schedule has you up until the early morning almost every night and struggling to keep your eyes open in the day. As much as you were warned of college induced insomnia, you're unprepared for it.

You check your phone as you wait for the elevator. You should be early but likely not the only one with that idea. Office hours often see you waiting in a short queue for an even shorter meeting with your professor. At least, it will set a good impression on the implacable doctor.

You finally orient yourself in the maze like halls built a century before without much logic. It's empty. The door is open as you near to check the number and see Hansen's name inscribed in front of PhD.

Your stomach flutters. Does he remember you? You hope he can't pick you out of the sea of faces he encounters in his lecture hall. You rap on the door frame as you peek inside.

He sits with his feet on his desk, long legs stretched out as he reads from a worn copy of War and Peace. You give a sheepish smile as he glances over and reluctantly closes his book.

"Sorry, am I disturbing you?" you check your phone again for the time. A minute after.

"Nope," he says shortly, "sit."

He straightens in his chair and you enter cautiously. You sit with your bag in your lap. He tilts his head. The arms are snug to your wide hips and have you squirming along with his glare.

"No more hiding?" he challenges.

"I..." you let the syllable hang, embarrassed. He does remember you.

"What can I do for you?"

"Oh, I had some questions about the first assignment," you begin.

"Really? It's pretty straightforward."

You hesitate, "well, I guess... I'm just nitpicking but--" you wring your hands, sweating in your tweed jacket as you play with a wrinkle in your flowy skirt, "I just want to do it right."

"Relax," he huffs but it hardly helps the tension, "go on."

"About the citation style--"

"It's noted in the syllabus."

"Oh, of course," you cringe.

"Perhaps, you should review the materials again."

"I'm not trying to waste your time--"

He scoffs, "hardly. You're the only one brave enough to do more than send me a misspelled email."

You look down and pick at your cuff, wiping the sweat from your forehead as you regret so many layers.

"Since you took the trouble of finding me, tell me what you're thinking for your first paper."

"Well, I was thinking of Jane Eyre--"

"Boring. This isn't high school."

"But I--"

"Maybe something more contemporary?" he suggests as he runs his fingers along the scruff on his cheeks, the hair shorter than that across his up lip.

His blue eyes focus on you, pinpointing you, making it hard to think.

"Um... well, I recently read Oryx and Crake?"

"Atwood? Not very contemporary, but an improvement."

You chew your lip and nod.

"Right, lets go over the parameters, then," he searches a leather folio and pulls out a sheet, "since you're getting this one-on-one, I'm expecting quality."

"Yes, uh, Doctor."

His cheek twitches as his brows raise slightly, "well, you got a pen?"

📕

You flip your paper over. C. Not what you hoped for or even expected. After your meeting with Hansen and sleepless nights, you really thought you'd done something right.

You really don't get it. In all your other classes, you see As and high Bs, but this one, you're falling short even on quizzes. 

As you glance around, it doesn't appear that anyone else did better. As well, there are at least a dozen more empty seats than the first day, the drop rate going up with each class. If you weren’t so stubborn and if this wasn’t a required class, you’d join those lucky quitters.

You sigh and jitter through the lecture, chewing the curled lip of your coffee cup. The latte goes cold and flat as you scribble down notes, your laptop too much of a distraction to keep up with Hansen’s style. 

The air returns to the room as the class finishes up. You breathe but your chest still feels tight as you give another look at the C. It’s going to bring down your entire GPA, you could lose your entry scholarship.

You take your time packing up as the class clears out eagerly. Not many hang around to confront the intimidating doctor. You drag your feet down the last few steps and near him as he stands behind the podium and signs off.

“Um, doctor,” you approach, “I wanted to talk to you about my paper.”

He looks up and arches a brow. He strands straight, “I hope you’re as disappointed as I am.”

It’s like a knife thrown directly into your chest. You wince.

“I left comments on the back page, have a read over and we can discuss at office hours,” he bends his arm and grimaces at his watch, “I don’t make a habit of being late.”

“Sorry, I… I’ll see you then, I guess–”

“Mhmm,” he scoops his bag up, “tomorrow, one o’clock.”

He marches out and leaves you reeling. You slowly follow his path and enter the empty hall. A month in and the pit only grows deeper. If you can’t get a redo on this paper, you’ll just have to cram for the midterm.

📕

The second time makes it no easier to locate Hansen’s office. It’s just as vacant as before as you tap on the closed door. You hear some shifting from the other side and it swings open, revealing your professor with his sleeves rolled to his elbows as he swoops a stray strand of hair away from his face.

“I almost thought you’d skip out,” he scoffs as he back away and goes back to pushing a bookshelf against the wall with a grunt.

“Am I interrupting?”

“Nope,” he steadies the shelf, “building’s so old I can hear the mice trying to get at my books.”

He tisks and shakes his head as he turns back to you, his vest unbuttoned from his effort. He goes back to the desk and nods at the chair in front of you. You sit as he stays standing and lifts the leather folio, peeking inside.

“Um,” you inhale, “about my paper–”

“No redos,” he declares, “that wouldn’t be fair, now would it?”

He closes the folder and drops it on the desk so it slams. You wince.

“I guess not but I–”

“Did you review my feedback?”

“Yes,” you answer.

“Then you know what to do for the next one.”

You stare at him, “I came all the way here for that?”

“Seems like,” he says bluntly, “some advice, don’t wait til the last minute for the exam. Consider it your make-up.”

You blink and frown. It’s like he’s toying with you.

“Well?” he shrugs.

You hesitate and push yourself out of the chair, “thank you, doctor.”

He watches you as you sling your purse over your shoulder and head for the door.

“One more thing,” he calls after you, “a smile never hurts.”

You turn in the door and give him a quizzical look. You swallow, “doctor.”

You leave him with your confused confirmation and walk numbly down the hall. You’re starting to suspect this really is a game for him. It’s all because that first day when you tried to fade into the seats. For all your efforts to not be noticed, you’d achieved the opposite.

📕

Just your luck. Two hours standing in line for the overcrowded registrar just to have a single exam rescheduled. And it had to be his. As if you can’t keep up with everything already. Now you’re writing an exam a whole week early. 

You sigh. Your plans are gone. No pizza, no catching up on your Netflix. Nope, you’re heading to the library to spend some intimate time with your textbooks and notes.

The main floor is crowded as you pass between the tables. Buzzing with the whispers of students as you walk along the end of the shelves. The upper floors are always sure to provide sufficient seclusion.

As you pass a table, you nearly trip over a bag. A girl looks over and quickly apologises, lifting her bag onto an empty chair. She sits with a man, he looks older, like a professor, and runs a finger around the rim of a cup as his gaze returns to her. Almost predatory as she cluelessly flutters the pages of her notebook.

You shake off the odd scene and continue on to the stairs. You find a place on the fourth level and settle in at a single desk against the wall. You unpack your things and yawn. One chapter then you can reward yourself with a coffee; that’s if you can stay awake.

📕

You wait outside the classroom in a building you’ve never been in before. There are no lecture halls there, only small rooms designed for no more than twenty at a time. A place meant for third and fourth years.

You flip back and forth in your notes, nervously bouncing as you check the clock beside the door. Ten minutes early and you’ve been standing there for ten already.

The door opens at five minutes to the hour and your lips part in surprise. Dr. Hansen emerges, his usual stoicism cracking for just a second. He lets the door fall open as he steps out.

“A real go-getter, aren’t you?” he remarks.

“Doctor,” you attempt a smile.

“You’re the only student scheduled for today,” he crosses his arm, “an expected blip.”

“Oh, I…”

“Four minutes,” he interjects. “You may take your seat, bag, coat, and other possessions at the front.”

You nod. He’s all too obvious that you’re an inconvenience. After all, he’s an important man; a doctor, and you’re just a freshman.

You leave your things against the wall and take a seat in the front row. He comes over with the sign in sheet and you show your student ID. He squints at it overly long and you try to squirm, knowing your photo was taken on a particularly hectic day.

He watches the clock and a minute-to, puts your exam face down in front of you. He counts down at ten seconds and instructs you dryly to begin. 

An essay question. You want to disappear into nothing. You take your pen as you read over the question, several times before your mind starts to turn. Ten minutes in and you’re still trying to construct your thesis.

Your hand trembles as you look up at Hansen. He’s behind the desk with a copy of The Art of War, lazily scratching his stubble and dragging a finger across his bushy mustache. He couldn’t care less about you or your existential crisis over Steinbeck. 

You focus on the lines and start. It might not make any sense but it’s better than a blank page. You hunch over the desk, the further you get into the poorly constructed arguments, holding your head like a philosopher immortalised in stone.

The silence is only touched by the ticking of the clock and your own shuddery breaths. You barely notice the scuff on the floor or Hansen’s footfalls. You only realise he’s moved as he stands right beside you, looking over your shoulder as you push ink into paper.

“Questions?” he intones.

“No, sir– doctor,” you gulp as his hand rests on the back of your chair.

“One hour gone,” he warns, sidling even closer until you feel him against your arm. You flip the pages as you try to ignore the prodding. It can’t be… “Two hours left, but you shouldn’t need that long, right?”

“N-nope,” you quiver and keep your hand moving, wrist sore from your endless scrawling.

“Good girl,” he squeezes your shoulder and slowly part.

You dare to peek up as he nears the front. He turns to lean against the white board, crossing one foot over the other casually as he tugs on his belt, groping his crotch as he hides his bulge under the leather. No…

You flutter your lashes and keep your eyes down. You’re going crazy from the sleep deprivation. That’s it.

📕

Disappointed, but not surprised. Dr. Hansen’s expectations are an unscalable mountain. You stare at your phone and shake your head, stepping aside as you nearly get walked over by other students milling around the library. Your midterm mark burns black into your retina but it would be more aptly typed in red. 

Forget it, you’re not going to class. You sigh and kick your feet as you look around the library. At least midterms are done, for you at least. There are still groups studying with caffeine-addled eyes and maddened twitching.

Fuck. You fall into a chair without looking and drop your bag on the table in front of you. A girl stares at you with wide-eyes, startled from her trance as her hand hovers over her chest in fright. She deflates as she breathes out in relief.

“Hi,” she squeaks.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” you say, “I wasn’t paying attention–”

You go to stand and she reaches out to halt you, “no, stay.”

“Um, okay?” you sit back and slide your bag over. She looks tired. “You alright? You look like you’ve been through it.”

“Sure,” she smiles but it quickly dissolves to nervous grimace, “you scared me is all. I thought…” she trails off and looks away, “I’m Tweed. You?”

You return your name. She rubs her arm and winces, as if she hit a sore spot.

“Are you all done exams?” she asks in a willowy voice. She stares past you, like you’re not there, like she isn’t.

“Yeah, but I… didn’t do so hot.”

“Yeah,” she gives a hollow laugh, “I passed all mine, but…” her face goes vacant.

“Hey, you sure you’re okay?”

“I don’t have any friends,” she looks at you, “maybe that’s why he…” she shakes her head, “I have to go.”

“Wait–” you try to stop her as she folds up her book and snatches her bag, “where–”

“You shouldn’t be here alone,” she stops to look over her shoulder.

“It’s the library,” you snort.

She nods and her lips quiver, “you shouldn’t talk to strangers either.”

She flits off before you can respond. You don’t understand. It’s probably just the stress, she’s not the first odd one you’ve come across, though you’re more used to getting those looks.

📕

You leave the library after a few hours of pretending you should be there. You knew if you sat in your dorm, you wouldn’t be able to sit still, so you spent the time meant to be sitting in Hansen’s thrall scrolling listlessly on your phone.

You grab a coffee on the way out, the afternoon lull making the transaction quick. As you come out onto campus, you shiver and sip from the tea latte for warmth. The rustic colours of fall blow by on dry leaves and wooly scarves.

You keep your head down as you pass by the lecture hall. You’ll deal with that next weak when you’re not so bitter about–

The cup crushes against your chest as you collide with another. You step back as the tea drips down your hands and you look down at your wet jacket.

“I see,” Hansen’s voice slices into you, “coffee date?”

“Um,” you look up at him, “doctor.”

“Your absence was noted,” his nostrils flare.

“I lost track of time–”

“Uh huh,” he mutters doubtfully.

You inhale and look around, “I’m sorry about… spilling on you–” You take the few steps to the bin and dump the cup in.

“It’s fine, it’s only Hilfiger,” he flicks away the droplets of tea.

You keep from rolling your eyes, “I’ll see you next week–”

“Running away,” he snorts, “you know, I thought you were better than that.”

“Better than what? Sure, a C is better than a D, thanks.”

You don’t look back and shuffle away, embarrassed. You can’t win with him. Nothing you do is right, even when he’s telling you exactly what to do. You grip the strap of your bag and head towards your dorm building. Fuck it, you’re getting that pizza.

“Hey,” Lloyd’s voice strikes your ears as his grip tightens around your arm and he pulls you back, “I didn’t dismiss you.”

“Class is over–”

“How would you know? You weren’t there.”

“So–”

“So,” he sneers at you, “I thought I told you to smile.”

“Let go of me.”

He retracts his hand roughly and lifts his chin, “ten percent.”

“What?”

“Ten percent. For missing class.”

“How? You can’t–”

“Or you can make up for it.”

You cross your arms and huff, “another paper?”

He seems amused as he grins, “something less… formal.”

You shrug at him, confused.

“Your dorm’s closer but my office is quieter.”

“What?” you recoil.

He smirks and tilts his head, “you’ll be lucky to finish with a 65 if you keep going down this road. A little extracurricular work can go a long way.”

“No, I… you’re not saying what I think–”

“For the first time, I think you understand exactly what I’m talking about.”

He stares. Your look away. The exam, his body against you, him tugging on his belt.

“My roommates…” you say at last.

“Office is only ten minutes away,” he lowers his voice.

“What about… other professors?”

He tweaks a brow in irritation, “excuses, excuses. My car is parked behind Valley. Closer. Five minutes, we can cut around–”

“Your car?” you taste bile. Are you really agreeing to this?

He puts his hands out; those are your options.

Your insides curdle as a chill flows through your veins, “fine.”

He points you with two fingers past the barren hedgerows. You walk beside him and keep your chin down, chewing your cheeks as your hands fidget in and out of your pockets. This isn’t real, it can’t be.

“You’re quiet,” he nudges you as you round the lecture hall, “it’s not your first…”

“No,” you confess.

“Hm, good,” he hums and puts his hand on your lower back, speeding up as he guides you down the row of cars.

“Wait,” you stop short and he nearly trips, “I’m not going to do this.”

“Oh?” he looks at you doubtfully, “so… I’ll see your paper on my desk next week.”

“What–”

“For missing class.”

“Jesus, why–”

“You can bend over for five minutes or spend the next week writing me an analysis of speculative fiction.”

You glance around. It’s just you and him among the dozens of vehicles. Your stomach churns. You have a paper due for non-fiction and another coming up for Victorian journals.

You nod and wave him on. He snickers and grabs your elbow, dragging you to the silver Mercedes. He shoves his hand in his pocket and it chirps, the door clicking as they unlock. He opens the back door and waves you in. It’s a tight space.

“Are you sure–”

“Stop stalling,” he smacks your ass and squeezes painfully.

You stagger forward and put your head down as you toss your bag onto the floor ahead of you. You crawl into the back seat, skirt catching under your knees as the pleats flatten. He squeezes in behind you, leaving the door open as he kneels on the seat. 

He pulls at your skirts, yanking your harshly as he shoves it up to your waist. You whimper and brace the seat. He slaps your ass again, the thin cotton doing little to soften the blow. 

You cry out as he rips down the elastic and stretches your panties around your knees. He pushes his jacket open as he rubs the front of his pants against your ass and slides his hand down to pick at his fly.

You hang your head as you lean heavily on your elbows and sniffle. This isn’t you. You’re not some skinny Barbie girl fucking her way to the top. Why you?

He growls as he gropes your ass again, jiggling the flesh as he wiggles against you. His other arm hooks around your waist and he forces two fingers between your folds, gruffly rubbing you as he pokes blindly from behind. Your heart hammers in your ears as his touch stokes your nerves.

“I knew you were going to be fun,” he breathes against the shell of your ear as he lines his tip up along your entrance, “already getting wet for me.”

“Please, just get it over with–”

You gasp as he impales you in a single motion. You stretch your arm out and slap the door as he jerks your entire body. His fingers swirl around your clit as he stirs electricity in your core. You gulp and cling to the leather handle as he thrusts again.

“I’m gonna take my time, baby,” he snarls and nips at your ear.

You groan as you close your eyes, trying to quell the rush that comes from his hand buried between your legs. The steady slap of flesh echoes around the tight space as the cool air brushes in from behind him.

“God, it’s so good,” he purrs, “I knew you were hiding something sweet under those skirts.”

You moan and reach back, gripping the tails of his shirt as he bucks into you. Your knee slips down the side of the seat and you collapse. He falls over you, rocking his hips relentlessly as he crushes you beneath him. His fingers move slowly as his hand is trapped under your pelvis.

You pant and puff as you clutch at his shirt and the door. Your thighs quake as you overflow with delight, murmuring with the thrill of your orgasm, stolen by his frantic fingers. He slows as you shiver, slipping his hand out from under you.

He plants his forearm across your shoulder and rams into you as he lifts himself. He kneads your hip as he ruts against you, faster and faster, fucking you furiously as his grunts puncture the frigid static of the parking lot.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pulls out and slides between your cheeks, thrusting between them as he cums beneath the rumpled bundle of your skirt and into the dip of your back.

You go limp as he stills, slapping your ass with both hands before backing out of the car. The buckle of his belt clinks as you wipe your wet face and sniff. You didn’t even realise the tears were falling.

“Get up,” he snaps his fingers, “I got places to be.”

You push yourself up and pull your panties up, letting the skirt fall straight, wrinkled as his cum trickles down your ass.

“So do you,” he winks as he lightly taps your cheek, “lots of reading to catch up on, huh?”

You move his hand away from your face and draw away. You grab your bag from the floor of his car and wordlessly turn away. You walk stiffly across the lot as the car door snaps shut.

“See you next week,” he taunts as you refuse to look back.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #college au #au #lloyd hansen x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #one shot #the gray man

[thezombieprostitute]

Tutoring

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty​ this is my fourth entry for the Bingo card combining “college AU” and “bodyguard AU” (though I’m kinda cheesing it on the “college AU” part). Reader has no physical descriptions.

Warnings: School stress, implied kidnapping. This story is about 1700 words!

“Hi there, you must be Peter. I’m Y/N and I’ll be your literature tutor.” You shake the hand of the young man in front of you. He seemed so small but that was likely a combination of his seemingly shy nature and his giant bodyguard next to him. You’d been warned before agreeing to tutor Peter that his father, Tony Stark, was quite protective of him and he’d have a security detail. Your only requirement was that the bodyguard did not interfere with the tutoring. 

“Hi Y/N,” Peter shook your hand back, “thanks, again, for agreeing to this. I really have no idea what I’m doing with literature. I’m more of a math and science brain. Oh, and this is my bodyguard for the day, Ari.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Ari,” you extend your hand. He quickly shakes your hand, completely covering yours with his, before getting back into lookout mode. “And I understand what you mean, Peter. Today is going to be a sort of Session Zero, where we talk out your assignments, possible ideas and goals, and make sure we can actually work well together. Sound good?”

He nods ascent and you guide him to the library’s study room you had reserved. You’re glad he agreed to meet at your university’s library, you had some friends here who would look out for you and knew your signals if you needed a call for help. Tutoring was great practice for your education degree and the money was good enough but you knew to make safety a priority. 

The two of you get settled in the study room while Ari sets himself up a chair that puts himself between Peter and the door. He’s so massive you’re glad you reserved one of the larger study rooms. You’re definitely not worried about him interrupting the tutoring; he’s very much all business.

Your session with Peter goes very well. You work out a way to get his math and science interests integrated into the literature project with Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. 

“Why that one,” Peter asks.

“Fun fact, Lewis Carroll’s writings are still studied by Logicians. It’s not just word play or fantastical things in this book, there’s also plays on logic and mathematical references.”

Peter’s eyes go wide, “you’re kidding me!”

“Nope, and I think that you can do this project, literature analysis, whatever you want to call it, by looking at Alice’s Adventures through the lens of a mathematician or logician. Just please, please, please make sure to talk to your teacher about this. I’d hate for us to get almost done with everything only for them to say, ‘that’s not what I wanted.’ Okay?”

“Yeah, that makes sense. Okay, I’ll make sure to ask her at class on Monday.”

“And if she doesn’t give you a response right away, please do email her. Get some kind of paper trail going so she can’t say you never got hold of her. I’ve had bad experiences like this before.”

“Sure thing!” 

“I think this was a very successful Session Zero, Peter. What say we do this again next week?” Peter nods enthusiastically as you both pack up your things. “And thank you, Ari. I’ve had people promise to not interfere with sessions only to end up being nothing but an annoyance.” He nods and gives you a smile so charming you feel yourself almost melting.

Next week’s session you meet up with Peter at the study room but he’s not with Ari. 

“Hi Y/N! This is another of my bodyguards, James,” Peter is quick to explain. “Security detail gets switched up every now and then.”

You stand up and go to shake James’s hand, “well, as long as you also agree to not interrupt today’s session, we should get along just fine.” James nods his head and returns your handshake before moving between Peter and the door. He’s big and tall like Ari, but with short hair and light stubble where Ari had longer hair and full beard. James doesn’t take a seat and just stands there, seemingly not looking at anything. You look back and forth between him and Peter with a confused expression and Peter whispers, “he’s kinda hardcore on protection. Doesn’t believe in sitting while on duty.” You nod as though you understand but you can’t imagine opting to stand all day when chairs are available.

“Well, let’s get to it then,” you smile at Peter. “Did you get approval from your teacher on this?”

“She said she’d have to get back to me so I followed your advice and emailed her. Just to be safe.”

“Good call. So, where would you like to begin today’s session?”

After some time of discussing various passages that Peter had problems with he sighed and said, “I sometimes feel like I’m just not meant to understand literature. I tried reading things like The Hobbit, a kids book, and I couldn’t even get into it.”

“Neither could I the first several times I tried to read it,” you confessed. Out of the corner of your eye you could swear you saw James fidget. “And it took me a really long time to figure out why. It was Tolkien’s style of world-building.”

“Yeah,” Peter began, “like taking five pages to describe a door, right?”

“Actually, no.” Again, your attention is drawn to movement from where James is standing, but you continue with Peter. “You see, part of Tolkien’s world-building is including names, poems and songs ‘of old’ that are meant to tell the reader ‘this is an old world with lore and history.’ But for readers like me, and possibly you, it felt like I was starting a series with the fourth book and I had missed out on some required reading. I felt as though the names were people I was supposed to already know. It wasn’t until I read The Silmarillion that things really started to fall in place for me.”

“That makes a lot of sense,” Peter commented. “A lot of times literature feels like I’m missing pieces of the puzzle for the story to make sense, for me to see why it’s such a ‘classic’ or why it’s important.”

“Something to consider, if you’re up for it, is learning about the time period the book was written in. Not when it’s set in, because those aren’t always the same, but when it was written. It can really help explain a lot of those ‘this doesn’t make sense’ details.”

“It still feels like a lot of work to just understand a book,” Peter complains.

“But you’re not just understanding a book,” you reply. “You’re understanding a culture.”

Your discussion went on like that for the rest of the session, with no further movement from James’s section of the room.

The next session Peter showed up with yet another bodyguard. He looked apologetic when he told you, “this is Lloyd. He’s today’s security detail.”

“Nice to meet you, Cupcake,” Lloyd pulled you closer to him as he shook your hand. “I’ve heard nothing but good things from the other guys.” 

You try to back away from him. Between his handlebar mustache, aggressive body language and overpriced cologne, you knew he wasn’t going to make today’s session easy.

“Hello Lloyd,” you reply curtly. “Just to make sure, you are aware of the conditions for allowing you to sit with us for the tutoring session, yes?”

“I’m aware,” his smile grows, showing his teeth, “and I promise to try to abide. But it’s not my fault if I end up finding you distracting.” You give him an incredulous look and respond, “yes, yes it is. But if you become too much of a distraction you will have to stand outside the room or you’ll have to explain to Mr. Stark why today’s session got canceled.”

“Ooo, so bossy,” he leered. “I like ‘em bossy.” You roll your eyes and try to get the session started. 

It isn’t long until the small study room is full of Lloyd’s cologne and giving you a headache. Your mood is worsened by Lloyd’s constant fidgeting and frequent derisive noises and comments. You’re very tempted to cancel the session but Peter’s such a  good student and you want to do right by him. 

“So have you heard back from your teacher about this?”

“Yeah, finally got an email response saying she’s going to have to see a rough draft before she’ll approve.”

“A full rough draft? Not an outline or summary,” you ask. “That’s a lot of work and a ton of time you’ll never get back if she says no to this.”

“You could just bitch slap her into accepting,” Lloyd interjects. “Bitch slapping bitches always works.” Peter winces at his words and that’s the last straw for you. 

“So you’re saying it would work on you?” You do not hold back on your glare and the comment seems to catch him off guard.

“I’m no bitch.”

“Then why are you acting like a needy bitch boy who’s not getting enough attention? You were allowed here with the understanding that you do not interfere. And yet you’ve done nothing but annoy, distract and deride. So either you sit still, shut up and do your job or I slap you and see if your bitch slap theory holds.”

Both men look taken aback at your anger but you don’t stop staring down Lloyd until looks away with a “yes, ma’am.” You turn back to Peter, smile, and continue to talk out how to handle his teacher while working on the project. 

As the weeks go by you’re grateful to never see Lloyd again. Peter alternates between Ari and James for the rest of your sessions and, when it’s finally time, you’re almost sad to say goodbye to the kid. Ari even gives you a giant smile and says he owes you one. Apparently your session with Lloyd was the last straw and they were finally able to get him fired. You were happy to help and only one bad session out of a semester’s worth of tutoring was your best record thus far. Now you could focus on your own finals, you were just a couple weeks away from getting your degree and wanted to finish strong. 

You were so caught up in finals stress that you didn’t notice someone following you until you were grabbed with a rag pressed into your face. The smell is strong and you find yourself passing out quickly. The last thing your brain registers is the too strong stench of overpriced cologne and someone whispering the word, “bitch” into your ear.

#navy and roo's sleepover #college au #bodyguard au #bodyguard!ari levinson #bodyguard!bucky barnes #bodyguard!lloyd hansen #dark ending

[georgiapeach30513]

With Your Touch, Part 1

Summary: You were supposed to be living a normal life. Perfect boyfriend, just graduated college, and ready to start your new life. Until you met him. Brooding and imposing unless his daughter is around. You knew nothing about babies, but he knew less. Tension builds, feelings flare up, but are they just because he looks extremely sexy when he's soft? Could it be because you are falling for this princess of a baby girl before him? Is it because when he's in town you're too close? The money is good, and yet his attention is better.

Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Reader

Rating: mild

Warnings:  language, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.1K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Lloyd scowls as he watches the scene in front of him. The crease between his brows is extra deep. He hates working in the field almost as much as he hates watching it. Idiots. He was surrounded by incompetent idiots.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His fist slams on the table. How many shots have to be fired before they secure their target. “He’s right fucking there! Shoot his ass!”

“Lloyd,” a timid man says behind him, and Lloyd’s eyes never leave the monitors. “Mr. Hansen?”

“I don’t want to do this myself, but I fucking will! Levinson, get ready to go!” More rounds of bullets, and still the target was missed. “What the fuck is this?”

“Lloyd!”

His body goes rigid as he turns to look at the small man who is shivering. Eyes downcast to the floor so he doesn’t look at the towering man. “Why the hell are you addressing me?”

“We have a problem.”

“No, shit, Sherlock. I have two teams of mercenaries after one target, and he’s not been shot. What the fuck else could be wrong?” He leans over a bit looking at the man. “Well?”

“Who the hell brought a baby?” Ari asks, staring down at a pitiful little carrier. An envelope beside the small bundle, and her bright green eyes stare up at the large man. “This isn’t bring your daughter to work day,” her face cracks a moment as she searches his face. Lips puckering out before a scream radiates through the makeshift office. “Make it stop!”

“Where the fuck did a baby come from?” Lloyd snaps a finger at another man to take over the original issue at hand. He just needs the target killed, and he can go home for a bit. “What is this?”

Ari’s hands slap on the side of his head covering his ears, but his foot tilts the carrier to rock it a bit, but still she wails. Seeing how no one attempts to help out, or get the baby to stop, Lloyd assumes this is something he’s going to have to take care of. What else was new? Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he leans down to grab up the letter. Crumpling it up before looking down at the baby. “Mother fucker.”

Your fingers run over the empty shelves in your dorm room. Graduation has finally happened, and now it is time to leave your mark on the world. Your father didn’t bother to show up for your graduation because why would he? He never showed up personally in your life. Not really. He always made sure that everything was paid for though. It could be worse, right?

You try not to complain about your father, or your family. You had more than most and should be grateful. But then some people had attention. Sighing, you grab up your bag, and look towards the door.

“Chase,” whispering, you walk over to him, and lay your head on his chest. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I don’t know why you feel so attached to this dorm room, honey.”

“Because it was my home,” you’re sure he didn’t fully understand, which was okay, you never bothered to explain. You kept your family dynamics quiet. He never asked why you were so quick to visit with his family for the holiday, just enjoyed you being there.

His warm arms wrap around you, and he holds you in a tight embrace. He wasn’t quite comfort, but he is sweet. He means well, and did what he could for the information that you provided to him. But this dorm room was the closet you had to a home. You had good memories here. Friends that were more like family, and now it’s gone.

You groan when the stupid sound of your absent father’s ringtone sounds off. Maybe he is actually calling to congratulate you for wasting his money on a degree that he deemed pointless. He. It probably wouldn’t matter what you did, it’d never be good enough for him.

“You gonna get that?”

“Do I have to?” You complain looking up at Chase. His mouth lifts to the side, and he nods his head. He is right. You should talk to him and quit hiding. You didn’t know what he was going to say or do. “I’ll be waiting in the car.”

“So the kid is yours?” Ari looks down at the car seat, watching the little baby cry, no one attempting to soothe or comfort her. Lloyd squats down and rubs his thumb over her cheek, and she struggles to breathe from her tears. “Are you going to hold it?”

“Can you stop referring to my daughter like she’s a thing?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Ari answers sarcastically. “Then pick her up. What is her name?”

“Clara told me to name her. She didn’t bother naming her. What…what do I do?” He looks up at his friend, showing the tiniest bit of emotion. “I don’t know anything about babies.”

“Start by holding her.”

“You hold her,” Lloyd is a lot of things but nurturing is far from one of them. He was a man that didn’t make mistakes, but clearly, he messed up somewhere. Of all the women he had been with only one was he stupid enough to knock up. But the way Lloyd is staring at her would suggest he almost wanted a baby.

“This is so fuck…this is so stupid. Clean up your mouth. She isn’t old enough to talk yet, but she will be,” Ari gets down to his knees, starting to remove the straps over her body. “She’s a pitiful little thing. Shh, girlie, you’re scaring your daddy before he’s properly got to look at you. There ya go,” he coos, holding the tiny girl up against his chest. Her cries soften a bit. He wonders when the last time she felt loved, because her body moves around feeling more of him.

“What’s wrong with her?” Both Ari and Lloyd’s noes turn up in disgust as they smell her. “She’s not been bathed?”

“That’s poop, Lloyd. We can’t have a baby here,” that is something Ari is certain of. Not only was this not a place for babies, he didn’t want to have to smell the baby smells.

“I didn’t ask for the baby. She was dropped on the mother fucking steps. Clara. I’ll kill that dumb trollop. Never trust desperate women. She doesn’t want money. She just didn’t want the baby. And I need her to have a name, so I’m not just calling her the baby. Ari, name her.”

“I’m not naming your spawn. She’s born of you, you name her. And my god, you gotta change this diaper, and figure out what you’re going to do in order for us to not have to deal with a baby like this. What the hell do you want?”

Lloyd turns to look at one of the analysts standing in the doorway. His thick rimmed glasses, and quiet demeanor made him one of Lloyd’s favorites. He was trustworthy, and smart. Quick. One of the few people Lloyd didn’t want to strangle. “Roman, what do you need? We’re dealing with someone.”

“You need an au pair.”

“What the hell is that?”

“It…it’s someone that will live in your home, and care for the child. They could teach them another language, and…”

“Sounds like a wife. Do I get to fuck them? Does she talk back to me?” Roman shakes his head no, wanting to say more, but doesn’t want to risk his job. He had the perfect person to help Lloyd with his little problem. “Where does one find an au pair?”

“I know someone that just recently graduated, and she speaks French. She has a degree in art history, and…”

“I need her at my house immediately,” Roman acts as if he’s about to say something until Lloyd cocks up a brow, “I will pay her handsomely.”

“You’re keeping the baby?” Ari’s answer comes in the form of Lloyd reaching towards the baby. Turning up his nose at the stench, but he holds her gently. Tenderly. He gives her a quick peck on her head. “He’s keeping the baby. Roman, call whoever. Sounds like the amount of money is not an issue.”

Staring up at the posh apartment buildings, and squeezing Chase’s hand, you wonder how you even got here. Your father didn’t do anything but give you money. You didn’t even know him. Didn’t know what he even did to make the money. And now you are taking orders from him. Allowed him to make you feel like shit for your education.

“You don’t have to listen to him,” Chase says calmly. Slipping his hand out of yours, he turns to look directly at you. “You’re a grown woman, you don’t have to listen to what daddy says.”

“Don’t call him that,” your father didn’t earn that name. That’s exactly what you called him, father. “I mean look at it, there could be worse places to live.”

“Yeah, and you’re caring for a child that isn’t yours. And where’s her parents? How often will you have this child?”

“I’m going to live with them.”

“That’s another thing, I don’t exactly like the idea that you live with them. Who are them?”

“It’s a need to know basis,” you mumble. Finally finding your footing you take a step forward. It was now or never and it seemed like it was going to be now. What did you actually have to lose? This was a guaranteed job. It’s not like you had to stay. The pay was great. And how hard could one baby be?

You were going into this job with a house, great pay, and it seemed somewhat cushy. “You’re just going to be giving another child a life without their parents.”

“And just think where I would have been without my nanny,” you spit out, feeling a bit more protective of a child that you haven't met. It wasn’t her fault anymore than it was yours. Children should be loved and taken care of, and that’s what you are going to do.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know you didn’t. You don’t have to go with me if you don’t approve,” sighing, Chase follows you as you walk into the building. Following the exact instructions you were given from your father. You didn’t know what you were walking into. It was just a job after all.

Neither you or Chase say another thing. He definitely could feel your irritation at the need to insert what he thought he knew about your life. Your life wasn’t horrible. You just didn’t have your parents. Especially not your father. He had a business. And whatever he did afforded you a charmed life.

Seems like this child was getting the same treatment. And if you could give her the life that your amazing nanny gave you, then you feel like you’re giving it back. You didn’t see yourself as a teacher, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. And it was just one small baby. Eventually she would be going to school, and that’s if you even stayed that long.

Attention was everything when it came to children. If you said no, and this was apparently an emergency, what would happen to this child? Every child deserves a good life.

You don’t fully bother knocking on the door. Just punch in the code to the apartment, and Chase tugs at your arm. He isn’t as comfortable with this as you are. Your father gave you the code, Lloyd didn’t want you to knock, he wants you to make yourself comfortable. Your eyes go wide as you look around.

You could see the house at one point was pristine, but now it’s chaotic. Empty boxes are everywhere, but all of them seem to be items for the child. Your father told you she was a baby, but not how new she was. Tiptoeing deeper into the apartment, Chase pulls you back into him.

“Announce yourself. This is weird.”

“Mr. Hansen?” The sweetest little baby gurgle comes from the next room, and you look up at Chase. “That’s a real baby, handsome. Can I go meet my employer now?”

“I’m right here. Scream if you need me.”

“Mr. Hansen?” You ask again, looking into the first room. It is an even bigger disaster. Stuff was everywhere. The room has so much potential, but why does everything seem new? “Mr. Hansen, do you need help?”

He needs a lot of help. Could barely tend to his own child. His movements seem very rigid and unsure of himself. “Yeah, I think she peed. She has on the diapers that change color when wet, but…I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I babysat a few times,” it’s a bit of a stretch. They weren’t babies. But you’ve seen some movies. Read some things, “Let me see. Hey there, cutie,” she looks like she could break hearts. She is angelic. Chubby little legs, and the biggest dimples in her cheeks. Completely toothless with the prettiest bright green eyes and long lashes. “I think you’ve overwhelmed your daddy. Did you recently just get custody?”

There had to be a reason for this mess. But he went and spent a ton of money trying to give his daughter everything she needed and could ever want. “I just recently found out about her,” that took an unexpected turn. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t have the time to really devote to her, but I don’t want her to do without, and…I’m in over my head.”

So he was a bit like your father. But he seems to currently be more hands on than your father was. It was cute, in a completely not weird way at all. Lloyd was older than you. A full grown man while you had only just graduated college. “I’m not an interior designer, but I know some. The apartment is a mess, I’m aware. Lyla needs so much, and this place was just here. I never took the time to do anything. So me and my partner ordered everything we could think of. I don’t think she needs everything we got, but she could. She has her bed, and her diapers, and there’s a box of formula and food in the kitchen. Her food should be there, right? I don’t think she plays with toys yet, but there’s some somewhere.”

“Is this a Dior stroller?”

“I was told it was a pram,” you stare at him, trying not to giggle. The fact that it was Dior was the more silly part. “I can’t do what I do and have her there it’s dangerous.”

“What do you do?”

“Don’t ask,” the look he gives you makes you take a step back, gawking up at him when you realize his size. He is tall. Arms that are thick and hard as steel. His shoulders are wider than your entire body, “Lyla will be provided for, and because of that so will you. Whatever you need. I’ll leave a card for you. I won’t be able to personally get all your…well, all your needs. So this seems like the best option.”

“My needs? Like food?”

“Uh, I know that you women have things you need,” he’s an idiot. “I’ll give you a check, so this looks legit, but I can provide all your special woman needs,” huge idiot.

“Yeah, I can get my ‘womanly needs’ with my paycheck. Do…how often are you going to be here if I’m living here?”

He puffs out a bit of air, and he fully gives you attention. His daughter now has a changed diaper, and he cradles her sweetly. Some stupid expensive silver teething toy in her mouth, and his eyes roam over your entire body. He’s a bit too handsome to be a father, and one that just so happened to be your employer. His eyes are too blue, and his arms look too thick, and you gulp, clenching your thighs together. What the fuck was this witchcraft?

“Every night if possible. I typically work remotely, but sometimes I do have to go out of the country, and that leads to a few days to a week without me coming home to you and Lyla,” is he smirking? You shouldn’t feel so small and taken aback, but your stomach erupts with annoying butterflies with how hard he’s staring at you.

“Would you like to see your room? It’s next to the baby’s. My bedroom is in the front of the apartment, just off the living room. So I’ll be the first to the door. Absolutely no one in this apartment. I don’t trust people. Especially not around my child, and I guess now you come into my protection. If you need to know the apartment is in another name. I have a tendency to create a lot of enemies, and I try to keep things here as safe as possible.”

Lloyd freezes when he hears Chase sneeze. Handing you the baby, he covers you and her with his body in such a quick motion it takes your breath away. Your loss of breathing had nothing to do with his weight digging into your skin, and you surely don’t let out an odd sound that has him giving you a quick wink.

“That would be my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend? Roman didn’t say anything about a boyfriend.”

“Roman doesn’t even know when my birthday is. Do you have a problem with Chase being here?”

“What kind of name is Chase?” With your free hand, you shove him off you. You didn’t need him that close to you. “Honestly, what kind of name is that? And I said nobody visits.”

“You just told me that. He traveled here with me because he didn’t trust that I was coming to some apartment with some weird man that lured me here under false pretense just so he could murder me.”

“I don’t lure women here. This is a safe space for my daughter. I need you to make him leave,” Lloyd didn’t need to lure women. When he wanted a woman he could have one. And wanting a woman led to him becoming a father.

“But I don’t want to be here alone with a baby that can’t talk,” his eyes narrow at you. It is like you and Lloyd are playing a tit for tat game. Going back and forth of why Chase shouldn’t be here, and why you need him here. “He has a job. He works at an IT firm. Would you really want me here alone and by myself? What if someone comes here to attack me? Then Lyla is left all alone.”

“I’ve taken precautions that this would never happen. When you’re on the clock, Lyla is your only priority,” that made you feel slightly uneasy. You had to make a note to check the neighbors. Getting a feeling that someone was tasked with watching and listening to you and Lyla.

“When am I off the clock?”

“When I am here. Unless,” he gives you that eat shit grin again, shaking his head. Is he actually flirting with you, “I shouldn’t say that, sunshine. So what should Lyla call you? Nanny seems a bit too old and mature for someone sweet like you.”

“Why not my name?” He contemplates that for a moment, looking down at his little baby who stares up at you. If babies could talk, you wonder what she is thinking of.

“Dolly.”

“What?”

“I want her to call you, Dolly. Her Dolly. Ooh, yes, I like that. Let’s see what I should do about this boyfriend,” spinning on his heels Lloyd walks down the hallway, stopping the moment he sees Chase. Your boyfriend stands up immediately, holding out his hand for Lloyd to shake.

“I don’t like you.”

“I’m sorry?” Chase looks towards you holding the baby, and takes a quick gulp. Lloyd’s eyes go between the two of you before sidestepping in front of you. His wide body blocking Chase from looking in your direction. “What is this?”

“Chase, let's get something straight, when I’m not here, Dolly is on the clock.”

“Her name isn’t Dolly.”

“When I’m here, I’ll allow her to come and go as she pleases, but just like Miss Dolly, I need to get a background check on you. I don’t want just anybody to have access to my daughter, and her au pair. And absolutely under no circumstance will you be sleeping under my roof. This is my home, and my daughter’s, and I don’t need stupid boys coming in here and tainting that,” he turns to look at you. Giving you no time at all to process exactly what he is saying. He couldn’t be serious.

“Remember, I own your father. I also own you. I’m offering you money that you can’t refuse because he just cut you off, and you’re used to a certain lifestyle. I’m providing that for you. And I don’t want limp dicks in my home. Have I made myself clear?”

“You can’t do that.”

“I can do whatever I want, Dolly. I’m Lloyd fucking Hansen. If I want to cut every single finger off your father’s hands, I will. You can either have me as your employer or your enemy. And if you walk out that door with that boy, you will be my enemy. I’m not saying you can’t date him, I’m saying I don’t want him in my house or around my daughter. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes,” his head tilts forward, and his piercing blue eyes give you a look. A look you can’t exactly explain, but it makes you feel things. Makes you ready to do whatever it is he told you to do. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Get rid of the boyfriend.”

“But you’re here.”

“And so are you. There’s no need for him to linger around, while you move in. This is just an introduction, sweetheart. I need to walk you through all the boring stuff about your job. I’ll pay you extra if you get Lyla’s bedroom situated. This place is a complete disaster, and I can’t stand it. Get rid of him,” reaching towards Lyla, he walks back down the hallway to her room, and you give Chase an awkward smile.

“Come on, he can find someone else to be the au pair.”

“I need to see this through, Chase,” he tries interrupting you. Like he usually does, but you shake your head. You did need this job. None of the other places you applied at have called you back. “I need this job. It won’t be forever. And once I get settled in, and have my first day off, I’ll spend it with you.”

“You’re really going to let him talk to you like you’re his property?”

“No, I’m not. But I see myself in that little baby, and she needs me. He doesn’t know what to do.”

“Do you?” Nope. You had no idea about babies. You didn’t even have siblings. But your bags that were in Chase’s cars had a few books with some ideas on what to do. You’d figure it out along the way. Plus, you had this odd desire to understand your dad’s job, and also what exactly Lloyd did. How did a man that instilled so much fear in you also have a soft spot for his daughter?

“You’ll call if you want to leave? No questions asked, I’ll come and get you?”

“No questions asked,” you promise, kissing his lips softly. His hands cup your ass, and Lloyd glares at him down the hallway. How did Roman allow you to grow up and be disrespected in a stranger’s home? You allowed him to kiss down your neck, and neither of you even knew he was watching.

Lloyd would never let Lyla be treated like that. He wished he could make her not get any bigger. He liked the idea of having a woman in his home. Even if it wasn’t the way that a traditional family had it, who knew what the future held. You wanted to please him. Even told Chase it was time for him to leave. He still had it.

Chase pulls off your neck, and notices Lloyd watching you. His hands slip into your back pockets, and he gives your ass a bit of a squeeze, “Who’s girl are you?”

“I’m yours, Chase. Now go on, I’ll call you later,” his eyes flick over to Lloyd, who ventures into Lyla’s room. Going to lay her down for her nap as he tries to think of ways to get rid of Chase. He is an asshole. A cocky one at that. Unfortunately he reminded Lloyd of himself. And there is only enough room in your life for one asshole.

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 @charmed-asylum @honeyhoneylovelylove

#with your touch #au pair au #babysitter au #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x fem!reader #lloyd hansen female reader #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen fanfiction #lloyd hansen fanfic #lloyd hansen fic #lloyd hansen fics #chris evans #chris evans character #the gray man

[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.”

#vellicores writing event #lloyd hansen #step dad lloyd hansen #step dad!lloyd hansen #stepdad!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x fem!reader #lloyd hansen ficlet #lloyd hansen fic #lloyd hansen drabble #chris evans #the gray man

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the murder at evergreen university

a/n: asdfghjkl I have been writing this since january...... wow. it's never taken me that long to write a story before... also I made a quick student bio about the majority of the people in this story, so if you wanna start off by looking at that, then here is the link ♡

summary:  just a slutty murder mystery

warnings: reader x various CEvans characters (Ransom Drysdale, Curtis Everett, Ari Levinson, Steve Rogers, Frank Adler, Jake Jensen, Lloyd Hansen), DARK content, noncon, smut, violence, university AU, murder mystery, detective!Ari, family friend!Ari, mma!Curtis (I just couldn't resist), surely extremely inaccurate on all levels (the college stuff, the investigation, everything, but this is just for fun so it's okay. lol I got the frat name from fantasynamegenerators.com hehe), polyamory, kissing, alcohol consumption, crying, drugging, murder, somno, daddy kink, dirty talk, choking, penetrative sex, size kink, vomiting, flashback sequences are written in all cursive

word count: 11.100

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | evergreen university masterlist

Walking up the steps of the Kappa Zeta Nu building, you pulled your humming ear pods out of your ears and popped them in the jacket pocket where your phone rested. If it hadn’t been for the big Greek letters above and its proximity to the college, the fraternity house could almost fool someone into thinking it was just any other regular suburban home. 

Giving the front door a rhythmic knock, it quickly swung open to reveal a scruffy-looking mathematics major, still groggy from sleep. 

“Morning Frank,” you couldn’t help but notice the spark in his eye that your presence generated. 

“Angel,” your nickname sounded so good on his sleepy lips, making you smile as he gave you a quick glance up and down, “how do you look like that this early in the morning?” 

Walking past him, further into the house, you chuckled, “8:30 is not that early.”

“Um, on a Saturday it is.” 

Thanks to the open floor plan, you quickly caught sight of Jake sitting by the kitchen island, scarfing down a bowl of cereal. 

“Hey!” the blonde smiled, mouth still full of his breakfast, “I’m guessing by the gorgeous look on your face that you made it through last night?”

“Yep,” you exhaled, thinking back on the major cram session you had to power through in order to meet the paper’s deadline. The lengthy assignment for your cognitive psychology class had been so extensive that it probably hadn’t been that smart of you to keep procrastinating it the way that you had, but somehow you got it done, “turned it in just in time.” 

“Atta girl,” the computer whiz reached over the counter to give you a high five, “I knew you could do it!”

“Speaking of yesterday,” yours and Jake’s fingers lingered a moment before parting ways, “how’s our boy doing? Did he make it through last night?”

Appearing behind you, still sweaty and panting from his morning run, Steve answered your question, evidently catching the tail end of the conversation just as he came in through the door, “Curtis is doing just fine,” he leaned against one of the counters, catching his breath, “better than fine actually, he won.” 

“He did?” a bright smile bloomed on your face, “man, I wish I could have been there…” you were usually so strict about being there for important things, such as Curtis’ occasional MMA fights, but because of your procrastinated schoolwork, you hadn’t been able to tag along. “It’s all Lloyd’s fault, you know. He did the whole oh yeah, we can have a little study date, get that paper done, no sweat, and then distracted me, leaving me with all of the work to get through yesterday.”  

“You wanna turn the faucets on down here, give his shower an icy turn as revenge?” Jake suggested, fiddling with his spoon playfully. 

“Nah, I’ll just give him the cold shoulder for a bit,” you settled your forearms against the countertop, unintentionally giving the guys a better view down your top, “he hates it when I ignore him.”

“He sure does,” Jakes drawled, nearly dropping his utensil into the milky bowl as he unabashedly stared down your cleavage. 

Biting your bottom lip a second, you returned to the matter at hand, “is he up yet?”

“Curtis?” Steve clarified, opening the fridge and plucking out a cold bottle of water. 

“Yeah.”

“Nope,” Frank shook his head behind you, “he’s still sleeping.”

Only pushing yourself halfway up, you asked “can I go see him?” slightly taking the others by surprise. 

“When have you even needed permission to go barge into his room?” Frank questioned.

“I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down at the speckled pattern of the counter's surface, “maybe he’s got company or something…”

“Angel,” Steve leaned over the opposite side of the table, craning his neck so that he could catch your timid eyes, “he is not gonna go pick up some random girl just because you miss one of his fights.”

Bowing your head, you opted not to answer, instead just attempted to shake the doubt off you entirely. 

In a bouncy rocking motion, you straitened back up and moved towards the stairs, two of the guys tagging along as they too needed to head upstairs. 

“So,” you glanced over your shoulder at Frank and Steve, “how’s Ransom settling in?”

“The new guy?” Steve spoke, “fine, I think. I don’t know, I don’t speak trust fund kid, so how would I know.”

“I don’t think he’s that bad… Shouldn’t we at least try to include him in our little group? It just seems kinda mean not to since we’re so tight and you all live with him,” reaching the top of the stairs, you heard, from the bathroom directly in front of you, the trickling clues of Lloyd’s luxurious shower, and briefly glanced down at the far end of the hall where the new guy’s closed door was, his vast room mirroring Steve’s at the opposite side, though his was much more secluded from the rest, being closed in by the injection of both the broad staircase and the bathroom before the cluster of rooms came. “Like you said, you don’t know him yet, he might be super sweet and just takes a bit of time to warm up to people.”

“Maybe,” was all Frank cagily, not giving it any more thought. 

Coming to a stop in front of Curtis’ door, you slowly creaked it open, revealing the sleeping display of a bruised buzzcut, still lightly snoring on his back.

“Jesus christ,” you breathed and leaned your shoulder against the doorframe, taking in the beaten form of your friend, “you sure he won?” you asked the men still lingering a second longer, peeking over your shoulder into the room.

“Yeah, you don’t wanna see the other guy,” Frank gave your behind a quick tap before ducking into his own room. 

Turning your head to look at Steve, himself leisurely making his way down towards the room at the end of the hall, “you sure he’s fine?” 

Stopping in his step, he offered you an earnest glance, “he’s fine, Y/n. Go wake him up.”

After shutting the door behind you, you peeled off your jacket and let it drop down onto the desk chair you passed on your way towards the small mattress. Kicking off your shoes, you climbed the twin bed, kneeling beside your resting friend.

“Wake up,” you sang, dipping your smile down low to rouse Curtis. Receiving a less than lively reaction, only getting a soft inhale of breath as an indication that he’d woken, you tried again, swinging one of your legs over his form to straddle his hips, “hey, tough guy,” you felt his palms slide up the curve of your ass and come to rest around your waist, “you alive?”

Just barely fluttering his bruised eyelids open, a bright smile bloomed on his lips, “hi angel,” he sighed contently at your presence, blinking up at your softly illuminated form as the gentle morning light streamed in through his open window, the family of birds living in the tree just outside aiding in the gentle ambience. 

“A little birdy told me that you won last night,” you let your upper body sink down against his, resting your chin on top of your folded palms, right underneath his chin.

“I did,” you saw as the sting of his various injuries woke him up even further, “although I still would have preferred if my good luck charm had been there instead of doing boring homework.” 

“Oh, please don’t make me feel any worse,” you hid your face in his chest, “I already feel like I have too much making up to do.”

“Oh yeah?” he picked your head up for you to see the sly smirk now adorning his face, “what did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know,” you spoke shyly, feeling your cheeks flush as the position the two of you had found yourself in dawned on you, “I just really wanted to have been there,” and you sat back up, wary of where you placed your hands for support on his beaten frame. 

“Ah,” he waved a reassuring hand, “you’ll be at the next one.”

“Oh, I will,” you grinned promisingly, scooting down to the foot of the bed as you watched him sit up, the duvet falling off his body to relieve the rest of the colourful aftermath, “a simple assignment won’t be able to stop me,” your enthusiasm made him smile through the wince he let out as he got up off the mattress.

Tailing after Curtis as he moved out into the hall and made his way down towards the lavatory, you suggested as you followed him into the bathroom, “we should totally do something to celebrate your win! It’s the weekend, we should do something fun!”

Standing by one of the sinks, Lloyd, fresh out of the shower, didn’t take his eyes off his hair in the reflection as you sauntered in. As Curtis grabbed his toothbrush, he leaned down and whispered cheekily in your ear, “I know a way we can celebrate, just the two of us,” flashing you a glance that caused your breath to get caught in your throat. 

Cutting off your flustered giggle, Lloyd spoke, “there’s supposed to be a party tonight down on the other side of campus. Me and a few of the others were talking about going.” 

“Oh, the one Delta Phi is throwing? Nat’s going to that! Said something this morning about meeting the guy she’s been seeing there.”

“What-, guy?” Lloyd finally ripped his eyes away from the mirror, “what happened to that yoga chick?”

“I don’t know, I think she was moving a little bit too fast for Natasha’s speed,” you spoke of your commitment-phobe of a roommate. Saddling up beside the fighter now brushing his teeth, you said, “so, what do you say?” bumping your hip gently against his as you saw him look back at you in the mirror, “it could be fun.”

Pretending to ponder the proposal, Curtis answered, “if you put on a pretty little dress, then I might be convinced to go,” the foaming toothpaste lightly murmuring his flirting.

“…It’s always the innocent-looking ones you’ve gotta look out for,” Ransom spoke over the loud, bassy music to the moustachioed man next to him on the couch, “and this little charade you’ve all got going on must be a hell of a good time,” he elbowed him suggestively, though didn’t conjure the desired reaction from him, “oh, come on, you can tell me, dude. Just help a brother out with a few details.”

“I wouldn���t know,” Lloyd shrugged with a smirk and took a sip of his beer. 

“What do you mean?”

Huffing out a soft sigh, he answered, “she’s an amazing girl, don’t get me wrong, but she just has a few rules.”

“What, like some bdsm kinda rules?” Ransom’s eyebrows wiggled excitedly. 

“No, man,” he tried not to chuckle at the yearned-for images his inappropriate guess provoked, “back when we met her she-… her heart was fucking broken and there wasn’t a lot of stuff that she wanted to do anymore, that she felt comfortable with, but over time, I guess when she started getting over whomever that fucker was, she began to relax and let us in.”

“So, you’re really saying you haven’t hit that yet?” the prying man furrowed his brows, unmoved by the sob story. 

“None of us have.”

“Then are those stories about you banging her last week just rumours?”

“No, no, well not exactly, we did have fun, trust me,” he chuckled, poking his cheek playfully with his tongue, “but I didn’t exactly bang her.”

“So, let me get this right, you’re all mad for her and she hasn’t given out? To any of you? What, is she still a virgin or something? Waiting for marriage?”

“I don’t think so,” Llyod thought for a moment, “but it kinda wouldn’t surprise me either if she was… I don’t know… it’s kinda complicated, but damn if she isn’t worth it.”

Letting out a low exhale, he shook his head, “I don’t know how you stand it, dude. If she was mine, she wouldn’t be able to walk. Hell, how do you even share someone like her?” 

“Well, I don’t know if she’s mine per se, we all just have fun, you know? Why not share?”

“Hey,” your chipper voice interrupted their lewd convocation as you finally caught sight of them on the dark leather couch in the corner of the party, “there you are,” and immediately grabbed each of their hands in yours, “come on,” you leaned your weight back, ushering them to get up, “we’re doing shots in the kitchen!”

“Seriously, Barnes? Watch where you’re going!” Ransom exclaimed as the host of the party had rowdily bumped into the rich boy on his way through the narrow kitchen, causing the bright pink shot in his hand to spill all down the front of his white sweater, “this is cashmere, dude!” he yelled after Bucky’s quickly disappearing form, clearly not haven noticed the interaction himself over the deafening music and his drunken haze.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, noticing the huge stain now blooming on the man beside you, “are you okay?” the sharp alcohol still stung in your throat causing your words to come out ragged. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he stared down at himself, then over his shoulder in contemplation of whether or not he should run after the guy in pursuit of revenge, “this sweater however is not.”

As your eyes washed over the ivory knit, watching it soak up the colourful cocktail, you thought out loud as an idea struck you, “well, maybe…” and acted quickly, grabbing the man’s hand, “come with me,” you yanked him past the rest of your jovial friends and down the hallway towards the small bathroom.

Catching on to where your head was at, Ransom spoke after crossing the threshold, “Y/n, this is very sweet, but I don’t know if it will work.”

“Just shut up and take it off,” you held out your hand, too blind by your inebriated problem-solving instincts to consider any other outcome.

Gazing back at you a moment, he then chuckled and tugged the sweater over his head with one hand, your eyes widening as he placed the item in your waiting palm, it haven apparently been the only layer he had on.

“Thank you,” you breathed, dumbfounded for a second as you stared at his bare chest, briefly admiring his toned form before shaking it off and spinning around to turn on the sink. Holding the stained material against the slowly trickling cold water, you pressed and pinched the spot gently in an effort to not agitate the delicate fibres. “I swear, I’m always the worst at spilling stuff on myself, I’m like a child, plus the fact that I’m a knitter, so not to promise anything, but I’d say you’re in pretty good hands.”

He didn’t say anything, simply settled in beside you, leaning against the edge of the sink as he watched your face contort in adorable concentration. 

“Oh, dammit…” you gave up after a few minutes of gentle scrubbing. Turning the faucet off, you held the sweater up and looked at the, although lighter, still very much visible pink stain, “well at least it’s a little bit better than before,” you tried, flashing the half-naked man an apologetic look, “maybe if I soak it a bit it’ll get better, but-”

“Hey,” Ransom placed his fingers atop yours still clutching the wool, “it’s fine,” he lowered your hands as he leaned in and closed the gap between you two, his alcoholic breath fanning across your flush cheeks as he uttered a quiet, “thank you,” before unexpectedly pressing a greedy kiss against your lips. 

Feeling his grip tug the sweater out of your hands, you instinctively pressed your palms against his chest for support as the whole move had made your intoxicated body lose its balance. His lips were soft, but his kisses were hungry, determinedly letting it build far faster than you were ready for.

You let out a soft giggle of surprise as he suddenly scooped you up and planted you on the edge of the sink, nestling himself in between your parted thighs, your short dress haven ridden up from the movement.

“So, is this why they all call you angel?” he asked as his heated pecks fluttered down your neck, “because you swoop in and save the day?”

“I don’t know if I do that…” you breathed timidly, the reality of what he was doing just catching up to you now. 

“Oh, but you do. You saved mine,” he smirked, “you’re my hero,” you felt the tickle of his fingers as they snuck further up under your dress, “however can I repay you?” 

“I, um,” you giggled nervously, catching his wrists before they could get any further, pressing your lips against his in an effort to soften the blow as you thought of a gentle way to let him down, “I think that kiss by itself was a pretty good thank you,” you hopped down from the sink even though he made no effort in providing you room to do so.

Enclosing his arms around you as you giggly stumbled further towards the still-ajar door, he uttered, pressing the obvious tent in his pants up against your softness, “but why stop there? I can do a lot better than that if you just give me five more minutes,” but the door conveniently swung open a bit more just as two familiar figures passed it.

“Angel!” Jake, completely blind to the man still clawing at you to stay inside the bathroom, hooked an arm around your waist and yanked you along as he and Frank jovially strolled past, “there you are! It’s almost 11 o'clock, please don’t tell me that you’re bailing on Curtis and truly dooming him to lose to us.”

“I think Curtis would lose to you two in beer pong whether I am on his team or not,” you smiled, thankful of their timing, “you guys are the reigning champions after all.”

“Damn right,” Frank roared, excitedly lifting his fist, “J and F! F and J! Ain’t nothing this duo can’t accomplish.”

“Well, not everything,” you giggled, hooking your arms around their forms as they strolled on either side of you, their arms draped over you in return, “for instance, you’re both terrible cooks.”

“Shut up, angel,” Jake said playfully, “we’re unstoppable and you know it,” he stopped you in your tracks and trapped you against the wall, “say it,” he smirked down at you as Frank, not missing a beat, slipped in as well, enclosing you completely, “say that we’re unstoppable.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, you uttered, “you’re unstoppable,” the sudden proximity awakening memories that made your heart flutter. 

“Good girl,” he purred purposely, and a shiver ran down your spine as you recalled just how hot they both sounded cumming for you, a while back, when they had managed to talk you into playing with them both. 

“You guys are so mean,” you said light-heartedly. 

“Yeah,” Frank scrunched his nose through his warm smile, “but you like it.”

Twirling you around the dancefloor, Lloyd had been the only one in the mood to satisfy your surge of energy when you came pouting, begging the boys to dance with you. Holding you close, his hands roamed as you rocked to the music, causing you to close your eyes and drift away.

“Hey,” a different hand suddenly tapped you on the shoulder and tore you out of your dream, “I need to talk to you a sec.” 

Eyes fluttering open to look back at your redheaded roommate, you gave her a quick, “okay,” before raising yourself up onto your toes to speak into your dance partner’s ear, “hey, I’ll be right back!”

“Okay,” he shouted back over the loud music, “I’ll just go grab a drink, you want any?”

“Please,” you reluctantly let go of his hand and yelled after him as you followed your friend through the swarm of partying people, “a beer, thanks!” 

Rounding the corner to settle into a comparatively quieter nook, you tugged your wild hair behind your ears as you looked back at Natasha, “what’s up?”

Biting her lip, she spoke, “you love me, right?”

“Well, obviously, I’m about to get down on one knee and everything,” you joked, “what is it?”

“Can I have the room tonight?” she asked with a small winch, knowing damn well how frequent this request was. 

“Seriously?” your eyebrows shot up, “again?”

“Please?” she folded her hands dramatically in front of her and begged. 

Letting out a soft sigh, you said slowly, “if you buy me that super good chocolate with the blue wrapper that they sell down on the corner, then-”

“Oh my god,” she cut you off and threw her arms around you, “thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“You’re the worst roommate ever, you know that?” you smiled, patting her back. 

“And you are the best, a true saint! Me and my sex life pray at your altar.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckled, playfully pushing her away, “go on then, get laid.”

Returning to find that Lloyd had settled in with the rest of the guys, taking up all of the clustered couches, you put on your best miserable expression as he handed you your beer, “guys,” you dramatically caught their attention, “I have some really devastating news to tell you…” faking the need to suck in a self-soothing breath before uttering, “tonight, on this very night, I am homeless!”

“Oh no!” they played along, giggling as you pressed the back of your hand up against your forehead. 

“I know! Whatever am I to do? If only some big, strong, handsome boys would let me crash at their frat…”

Clutching onto Curtis’ broad shoulders as he gave you a piggyback ride back to the frat, you all laughed at Jake and Frank’s terrible, lewd rendition of the school’s fight song. If Lloyd had been here, if his stamina hadn’t forced him to stay out and enjoy the night a little longer, he would have probably not only joined in, but led the tune, waking up everyone in the dorms you passed. 

“So,” Ransom smirked as you all tumbled in through the destinated front door, “who will have the pleasure of bunking with you tonight?”

“I, uh,” you giggled as Curtis sat you down, your shoes clutched in your hand, “I don’t know…”

“You can sleep in my room if you want,” Steve offered generously, “I’ll just sleep down here on the couch.”

“Really? Are you sure? Because I can just sleep down here on the couch, it’s fine.”

“No, no,” he waved a hand reassuringly, “you’ve had way more to drink tonight than I have, so you should really take the room closest to the bathroom, just in case.”

Smiling widely, you stumbled over and wrapped your arms around his bulky form, “thank you, Steve,” breathing in his scent as you smooshed your face into his t-shirt, “you’re the best.”

“You wanna borrow a shirt to sleep in?” Curtis asked, reaching out a quick arm to steady you as you lost your balance on your way towards the wide staircase.  

“Oh, yeah,” you offered him a fuzzy smile, both the alcohol and the hour causing your eyelids to feel like they weighed a ton, “that would be great.” 

Getting settled into the comparatively more private bedroom located next to the stairs, the bathroom too separating it from the rest of the doors clustered down the narrow hallway, you lazily changed into the t-shirt Curtis soon handed off to you, tugging it over your dress before sliding your party outfit off underneath the grey cotton, keeping yourself somewhat covered purely because you didn’t wanna end the conversation you and the rest of the boys were trying to wrap up.

“Alright, we should probably let the lady sleep,” Steve spoke, watching closely as every time you blinked, your eyes gradually stayed closed just a little longer, nearly falling asleep against Curtis’ broad shoulder.

“No, no,” you protested, inhaling sharply in an effort to wake up more, “I’m just resting my eyes…”

“Right,” Frank chuckled as they all got up from their comfy seat on the mattress, being too tired to fight it, Curtis gently helped you lay down, tugging the duvet over your curled-up form.

“Hey,” Ransom poked his head into the room as the rest began to filter out, “I thought you might like this,” you were surprised to see him have a small glass of water in his hand for you. Not simply placing it on the bedside table by your head, he kneeled down next to you and held it out, “here,” expecting for you to take it, “I swear, chugging a glass of water helps with the hangover,” sliding his free palm under your head to raise it up.

“Thank you,” you smiled wearily as you slowly accepted it and raised it up towards your lips. 

Noticing that you were only taking a small sip, his fingers found the bottom of the glass and pressed it up further, “all of it,” he tilted it for you to down it all, “or else it doesn’t work.” 

Coughing lightly as you lowed the now empty glass, it left an odd taste in your mouth, though you just summed it up to be the handiwork of some of the strong beverages you had consumed during the night working its way up again. 

“Thanks, Ransom,” you groggily patted his cheek, “you’re so sweet.” 

His eyes flickering over your tired face, smooshed against the pillow, he smirked, “goodnight,” got back up and strolled out past Curtis still lingering in the doorway, arms crossed and watching over you like a guard dog. 

“Night,” you quietly called out after him as you saw his frame disappear towards the furthest room down the hallway. Redirecting your attention back to your friend, you hummed, “go to bed, Curt. You gotta still be super sore from last night.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Oh, so you’re just gonna stand there all night, fall asleep on your feet and act as my sleep paralysis demon for the night?” you joked with half-closed eyes. 

A small laugh bubbled out of him as he finally moved, “sleep well, angel,” he uncrossed his arms and reached out for the doorknob to tug it closed. 

“Goodnight, Curtis,” you snuggled further into the pillow as you felt sleep overtake you like a wave crashing the shore, adding absentmindedly under your breath, “love you.”

“Hmm…” you hazily blinked your heavy lids open, roused by the pinching pressure between your thighs. Looking up at the dimly lit figure, you mumbled fuzzily, “w-what?” unsure if this was real life or a dream as the whole bed spun beneath you and you felt like you were floating. 

“Shh, go back to sleep, angel,” Ransom’s grunt pierced your ears as his palm pressed over the bottom half of your face, silencing any words you might speak, “It’s alright, daddy’s got you,” a shy cry vibrated against his hand as you felt him rock against you, finally noticing fully the unexpected sensation of his thick girth stretching you out, “just be a good girl and lay right there, let me have a little slice of heaven.”

Keeping your exhausted legs spread wide apart, his determined hips acting as a door stop, he moaned quietly, “fuck, it really did do the trick,” he looked down at your dazed form, awake enough to be present for him, but unknowingly sedated enough for you not to fight back, “almost a shame you won’t be able to remember any of this in the morning,” he slid his hand down to squeeze your throat, pinching your rapid pulse and making the world even more blurry, “look at you, fucking out like a perfect little doll. You wanna be doll, huh? My own personal little fucktoy?”

Fighting to keep your eyes open, your whole body rocked at his movements as he frantically picked up his pace, selfishly pounding into you, melting on top of you and pressing your sedated body further into the bed. 

“You know, I barely needed to touch you a second before you soaked my fingers, you clearly want this as much as I do,” he tightened his grip on your throat, “you need this, you need me,” stifled moans flowed from his lips as he unmercifully pounded into you, scratching his own vile itch, “poor you, none of your boyfriends ever touch you properly. That’s just what you need, isn’t it?” he mocked as your fluttering cunt tried to squeeze him out, expelling him from your body, “you just need your tight little pussy to be stretched out? Just need some good dick? Don’t worry, angel,” you vaguely felt his tongue flicker against your slightly numbed skin, “as long as I am here to help, I’ll keep your pussy sore, keep it filled up,” you just managed to catch him growl before you lost the forlorn battle and your body dozed off again. 

Waking up with a low groan, you quickly sprung up, feeling the contents of your stomach fighting their way out. With no time to entertain the surprising presents of Curtis already curled up at the foot of the mattress, you bolted out of bed and ran out the door, thankful for the close proximity to the bathroom as you soon found yourself kneeling in front of the toilet, regretting every sip you had indulged in as they burned your entire chest on their way out again. 

Feeling as your loose hair suddenly got picked up and gently held back, you heard the warm rumble of Curtis’ voice as he said, “wow, okay, alright,” his large palm found your spine, soothingly caressing it as you hurled your guts out, “it’s alright, angel. Just get it all out.”

“Urgh,” you groaned, clutching the cold porcelain as you spat out the fowl tang, “I am never drinking again,” keeping your head over the bowl till you were sure you had gotten it all out. With a heavy sigh, you slumped back, colliding softly with the mass of your friend. 

“You okay?” he asked, lightly running his hands over your goosebump-ridden form. 

“I think so,” you blinked up into his steely eyes, the reddened look to them flying over your exhausted head, “at least I made it to the bathroom this time,” you tried to joke with a half-hearted smile. 

Letting your body weakly droop down, sighing in relief as you felt the cold tile hug your form, you heard Curtis notice, “no, no, you can’t fall asleep out here,” feeling his fingers already slide beneath your body. 

“But it’s so comfortable,” you let out a small winch as he scooped you up into his arms, your frame draping over his strong limbs, and a dull pain stung your core. “Hey, what date is it?” you suddenly asked, trying to make sense of the uncomfortable tingle.

“I-, uh, why?” he thought, carrying you back into Steve’s room, your eyes noticing the other doors down the dark hallway were all open wide, even though it was the middle of the night. 

“No reason, I just think I might be getting my period or something…”

“Miss Y/l/n?” a voice called, though you were a million miles away, “Miss Y/l/n?” 

“Huh?” you blinked, shaking your head slightly as you unsteadily glanced up at the figure, “sorry, yes,” you reluctantly let go of your friend’s hand and rose from the seat you had been waiting in. 

“You’re gonna be fine,” Curtis gave your hand one last squeeze, “I’ll wait right here for when you’re done, okay?” 

He and the other guys hadn’t let you out of their sight since the terrifying news had spread like wildfire yesterday morning and rocked the entire campus to its core. 

“Okay,” you nodded weakly, not truly present as you followed the stranger inside. 

Pulling out a chair at the cold table, you sat down and averted your gaze from the walls of the bare conference room provided by the school for the law enforcements to use for their investigation. 

“The detective will be right in, you just sit tight,” the figure spoke before they closed the door behind them, leaving you alone in the makeshift interrogation room. 

You didn’t know how long you were in there, maybe a minute, maybe ten, but soon you heard the door creak open once more and a voice, long forgotten, found your ears, “hello, I’m detective Levinson, I will be conducting this-”

“Ari?” you blinked up at your elder childhood friend in amazement, the nauseating feeling of grief momentarily washing away at his unexpected presence as he sat down opposite to you, “what are you doing here?” your eyes drifted over his informal suit, the jacket missing and the sleeves sloppily rolled up passed his burly forearms, “and when did you stop being a beat cop?” 

“Uh,” he blinked, a solemn expression washing over his stern face, softening it significantly, “around a year ago,” he then sighed deeply and said, “I really hoped there had just been another Y/n Y/l/n here at this school…”

Effectively bringing you back down to earth, “oh, yeah… will this be a problem? Can you not do this if you already know me?”

“No, no, it’s not that. I just-,” his head tilted gently to the side, “this isn’t something I ever wanted you to go through.” 

Sucking in a sharp breath, you nodded shyly, “yeah, well, I am.”

Looking over you a moment, taking in the small changes you had adapted in the years since you had last seen each other, he offered a genuine, “I’m sorry,” and attempted to catch your weary gaze. 

“It’s not your fault,” you glanced down at your hands as your fingers once again began to dig nervously into your skin, leaving angry little half-crescent marks in its wake, “you’re not the one running around murdering students,” you awkwardly attempted to joke.  

Exhaling lowly, he then opened the file in front of him and laid out a small tape recorder in the middle of the table, “are you ready to begin?” 

“Yeah.”

Pressing on one of the side buttons on the recorder, Ari then announced methodically, “can you please state your name for the record?” 

“Y/n Y/l/n.” 

“And for the record, are you speaking to me voluntarily?”

“I am.”

Glancing over the open folder sprawled out in front of him, he asked, “what was your relationship with the victim?” 

“Ransom, he-, um… he was a friend. I honestly didn’t really know him for too long, but he lived with some of my best friends, so it just seemed pretty natural for him to also become a part of our little group, if you’d call it that.” 

“And you last saw Mr Drysdale when?” 

“At the party Saturday night. I crashed at their flat after that, so it was probably early Sunday morning that I saw him last, when he was on his way to bed, I think.” 

“Did anything happen to him that night? Anything unusual? His behaviour? Someone he interacted with? Anything you can think of that stands out?” 

“Uhm,” you thought back, remembering the heated kiss you had shared in the bathroom, though looking back into Ari’s studying eyes, you couldn’t help but lie and say, “no, I don’t think so. It was just a party, you know,” the thought of telling your childhood crush that you drunkenly made out with a guy sent your stomach turning, crushing the truth before it could crawl out. 

“Alright,” he nodded, “well, if you do remember anything, please reach out, we’re running the bulk of the investigation from here, so you know where I’ll be.”

“Still have your number,” you forced an awkward laugh.

“Right,” he sucked in a breath and averted his piercing gaze, “so, uhm, I don’t think I have anything else to ask you right now. Thank you for your cooperation with the investigation.”

“Of course,” you watched as his fingers wrap around the tape recorder, clicking the protruding button and making it stop, “it-, um,” you felt a shiver run down your spine as his eyes fell upon you once more, making the polite words seem that much harder to muster, “it really is good to see you again. Nice to see that you’re doing good,” then added jokingly, “that your mom still hasn’t talked you into cutting your hair,” a sincere smile tickled your lips at the mention of the warm woman living next door to your own parents. 

Even though it was clearly forced, your words still conjured a genuine reaction from the guy who used to babysit you, “yeah, no, you know she’s never winning that battle,” he chuckled, shaking his head lightly, “it’s, uh, it’s great to see you as well. You-, um… yeah…” he dropped whatever compliment was on the tip of his tongue and averted his gaze, “I don’t wanna keep you any longer, you can go, you probably have classes to get to.”  

“I actually don’t,” you informed him, though still slowly got up from your seat, “our professors have given us all some time off to-, uh, you know…”

“Yeah…” he nodded understandingly, his vision following your form as you made your way towards the door. 

Pausing just before your fingertips grazed the doorknob, you looked back, timidly chewing on your bottom lip, “hey, Ari?” 

“Yes?” he responded quickly, clearly still completely captivated. 

Finding it difficult to even breathe properly in his presence, especially when those soulful eyes were locked upon yours, you found that your words crumbled before they even got to see the light of day, “I-, um…” then hastily scrambled your brain for a makeshift, “good luck.”

Breathing out a soft smile as he watched you nervously fiddle with the door handle, he said, “thanks, Y/n.” 

It had been Monday morning that a garbage man had found Ransom’s body in a dumpster on the far side of campus. Even though they had tried to contain the news, it still spread like a wildfire, and come lunch that day, it was the only thing any student could talk about. 

The frat quickly got sealed off as an active crime scene as it had been the last place witnesses had seen him alive, forcing the rest of the guys to temporarily bunk up with friends in their dorms. You felt a bit ashamed about the immense relief you felt at that small detail, the comfort of having each one of them fight over who got to stay with you being something you welcomed with open arms. In the end, it was both Curtis and Steve who stayed with you, Natasha giving you the room and staying with her newfound beau in the meantime, giving you the entire space for a while.  

The guys had always been protective of you, but it almost seemed to have grown over the past few gloomy days. Not a second passed by where at least one of them wasn’t at your side, holding you as you cried, walking with you through the crowded campus or just keeping you company, making sure you weren’t alone. You just added it up to be their version of freaking out and buying into the whole conspiracy that it hadn’t been a drug deal gone wrong as so many had assumed of the recently deceased playboy with a penchant for illicit substances, but actually someone on campus, a stone-cold killer masking as just the person next to you in your lit class. 

“Why don’t you go ask him?” 

“Me?” your brows furrowed in Lloyd’s direction, “why me? If you wanna know so bad, why don’t you just go ask him yourself?”

Chiming in, Jake tilted his head, “well, you did say you know the guy.” 

Exhaling lowly, you averted your gaze, your crossed arms tightening over your chest, “yeah, you could certainly say that…”

“So just go, bat your eyelashes at him for a bit and figure out how much he knows,” Lloyd tried to persuade you, though even his ever-present cocky charm couldn’t sway you this time.

Previously assuming that the whole conversation had just gone over Curtis’ head, as he had just quickly sat beside you and stared out the window, he suddenly perked up, “we just-…” he struggled to vocalise, “if it really is someone here on campus… just the thought you sitting in class with them or-, fuck, anything, it just-…” like a magnet, your fingers naturally found his own in a comforting squeeze, “angel, we just wanna keep you safe and the thought of someone like that running around terrorising the school-… just please go figure out if he has a suspect yet. See if he has got any leads.”

From the moment you had said goodbye to the familiar detective, shame about not telling him the whole truth had nearly eaten you alive. You had lied to not only a person you had known your whole life, but also a law enforcer. It was insufferable, like a snowball rolling down a hill and growing bigger and bigger with each accumulated snowflake. 

“Fine,” you cracked, the shameful storm inside your body becoming too much to bear, “I’ll do it.”

“Knock, knock,” you said with a small smile as you pushed the ajar door open completely. 

“Y/n,” Ari’s spine straightened in surprise, his eyes no longer glued to the computer screen before him, “what are you doing here?”

“Thought you might be hungry,” you held up your alibi for coming in the form of a takeout bag, “it’s from this little Indian place downtown,” you shut the door behind you before plopping the crinkly bag down on the table, the warm light from the desk lamp illuminating the brimming containers of curry stacked inside, “you like Indian, right?”

“I-, I do,” he said, still taken aback by the kind gesture, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Thought it was the least I could do as a thanks for what you’re doing,” you waved a hand in the direction of the cluttered corkboard on the wall. 

“It’s just my job, you don’t need to thank me,” he said modestly, leaning back in his chair and lending you to spot the silver pen his fingers fiddled with. 

Lowering your gaze to stare at your shoes, you exhaled, “right…”

“So, um,” he filled out the awkward silence, “was there anything else you needed?”

“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes averted, “you’re obviously super busy and here I am just barging in,” your vision finally flickered up to lock with his, already steadfast on you, “I just, uh…” your breaths became more jagged as his sky-like eyes captivated your own, “there was actually something else I wanted to talk to you about, something I wanted to tell you.”

“Alright…” he nodded, listening intently. 

Blowing out a shaky breath, you revealed, “I lied, something did happen that night.”

“Okay,” his brows furrowed, though not as much as you had feared, “what was it?” your anxious brain haven already thought of a million different dramatic punishments he could penalise you with.

“I, uh…” you squeezed your eyes shut nervously, “I kissed him,” your pained voice rushed to force out, “at that party. It was in the bathroom and almost became something else, but, um yeah… we kissed… me and Ransom…” you peaked just one of your eyes open, your tense shoulders nearly pressing against your ears at this point, “I’m really sorry, I just felt like couldn’t tell you something like that, not you. I won’t be arrested for hiding this information, will I?”

“No, no,” Ari quickly rose from his seat, “Y/n, you’re okay,” he stepped closer to you as he attempted to calm your uncalled-for panic, “you won’t be arrested.”

“Oh,” you breathed, “good,” feeling your shoulders begin to drop back down again, “you know how my mind tends to freak out.”

“Yeah,” he nodded softly, “I do…” his words genuine as memories conjured the whisper of a smile to appear upon his lips, “thank you for telling me.”

Awkwardly, you flashed him a tight-lipped smile, grateful that uncomfortable moment had passed, you recalled the other reason for why you had come, “so…”

“So…” he echoed.

“Do you have any leads, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“That’s classified information, you know I can’t tell you that.”

“I know…” you averted your gaze and scrabbled your brain for what you could do or say to get him to tell you, “it’s just, I’m so scared all the time. The school was always a place that made me feel safe, till now…” although your intentions behind those words weren’t completely truthful, the statement wasn’t that far off, “it was just worth a try asking you.”

Holding your gaze, you could almost see his heartstrings get tugged as his brows quivered in compassion, “I-… I do have something. If you didn’t know, we just finished sweeping the victim’s living quarters, so if they haven’t already been notified, your friends should be able to move back in by tomorrow, but we also found something, not there, but in proximity to the dump site, there was a knife with traces of the victim’s blood on it. It’s in the lab right now as we speak, trying to decipher if there are any identifiable prints on it.” 

“Oh my god…” you felt goosebumps sting at every inch of your skin. 

“You haven’t heard any details about what state his body was found in, have you?” 

“No…” both from avoiding the papers and keeping to your dorm, you might be the only student on campus not aware of how your late friend had died, “he was stabbed?”

“That was decisively what killed him, yeah, but he was brutally beaten before that.”

“Holy shit, that’s-…” you shuttered, your eyes just now noticing the nauseating photos pinned on the board beside you, “fuck… I don’t know how you do this all day, deal with these kinds of things.” 

“It gets easier over time,” he shared, his worried eyes scanning your face a moment before apprehensively uttering, “this might be a really stupid question, but how are you holding up?”

“I-…” you toyed with the thought of lying to him yet again, but then opted to share the truth, “I am not doing so good, to be honest. I could probably count the number of hours I’ve slept in the last few days on one hand, or so I’ve been told. I don’t think it feels like I’ve slept at all, but apparently I have, just a little bit.”

Sucking in a pained breath, he murmured, “I’m sorry. I can help find someone you can talk to, if you want.”

“No, it’s alright,” his kind offer made it easier for you to look away from the horror plastered all over the office walls, “I mean, I’m not alone, that fact has become crystal clear throughout all of this.”

“Yeah, I kinda pieced that together,” he spoke in a much different manner than before, causing your brows to crinkle, “I conducted all the other interviews. It’s nice that you’ve made friends, making the most out of your college experience,” he said in a tone, almost reminiscent of jealousy.  

Averting your eyes, memories you so desperately tried to keep at bay pried their way in and snuffed out the fuming flicker his resentment had ignited, “hey Ari?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you know?” you asked wearily. 

“Know what?”

“Did you know all of those years, growing up together?” you lifted your vision once more as he offered you a questioning hum, “did you know that I was in love with you?”

Taken aback, it took a bit before he managed to answer, “no, I didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you ever call me? You just left.” 

“I was getting married, Y/n. What was I supposed to do?” 

“Not fuck the girl you used to babysit,” you shot back coldly, “what even was I to you?”

“I-… I don’t know,” his frustrated words came out breathy, “do you think I planned for any of that to have happened? To sleep with you of all people? I didn’t. But when I came home that summer and saw you again, saw who you had become, I don’t know, everything just changed, you changed. I fully thought that you’d to still be that same little annoying brat you used to be, but you really weren’t. I didn’t expect it to happen, I didn’t expect you to suddenly do something like that to me, have that kind of power over me!”

“So, you just decided to break my heart instead? I was mad for you, for as long as I could remember. That summer was the happiest I’d ever been and then you just up and left in the middle of the night without a word. Did you even think to imagine what it was like for me to run around that morning looking for you and instead finding an invitation for your wedding? I had to hear from your fucking parents that you had just come home to prepare things before the big day. You hadn’t even mentioned to me once that you were engaged, or even as much as just in a relationship. Was any of it even real to you or was I just your last bit of fun before you got tied down?”

“It was, Y/n,” he insisted sincerely, “it was the realest thing I’ve ever felt.”

“Then why did you go without as much as a goodbye? You know how much that broke me?”

“Yeah, well you seem to be doing just fine now,” he said pettily. 

“Excuse me? You don’t get to say something like that to me. You were the one who broke my heart, you don’t get to judge how I glued it back together. Just go back home to your wife, why don’t you.”

Suddenly looking back at you in confusion, Ari then illuminated carefully, “Y/n, I’m not married.”

“What?” you blinked. 

“I mean, I know you weren’t there that day, but I thought my mom at least had told you,” the gears turning inside of him were nearly visible to the naked eye, “I couldn’t go through with it.”

“What? Why?”

Biting his tongue as he held your eye, he then exhaled, “because I didn’t think I should get married if I was in love with someone else.”

Sucking in a stunned breath, you saw tears cloud your vision, “b-but… you never even called…”

“I know I didn’t,” he concurred heavily, his eyes unable to look away from your glossy ones. Feeling as if you might faint, you saw his woeful vision flicker down towards your lips, “I’m sorry, Y/n.” 

But just as you saw him slowly inch his face closer and closer to yours, a sharp intake of air stung your lungs as you raised a hand up as a barricade, “I can’t…” too scared of history repeating itself, “we can’t…”

Sighing deeply, his eyes traced the tear that rolled down your cheek, “I know…”

You had just been helping the guys move back into the frat. That was all you had been doing. One moment you were all laughing, actually having a normal and pleasant moment for once, and the next, two officers were barging down the door and reading Lloyd his rights. 

You’d nearly lost it completely and Curtis had to hold you back so that you didn’t go scratch one of the officer’s eyes out. The man in the cuffs however took it with style, only trying to break through your hazy to let you know that he would be fine and for the others to take care of you, after all, this wasn’t his first rodeo down to the station, although those times it had only been for petty crimes like bar room brawls and such. 

“But I mean, how did it even happen?” you thought out loud a while later, the miranda rights still ringing in your ears like a triggering song you just couldn’t get out of your head, “that’s what my mind keeps going back to,” you had finally calmed down after what felt like forever of the guys talking out of marching down to the station to do something, anything to get Lloyd out. Completely powerless, you sat curled up at the end of the couch as words flowed from your exhausted lips, “how could someone like him be killed? He was such a nice guy.” 

Not being able to stand it any longer, Curtis pipped up from the armchair on the other side of the living room, “no, he really wasn’t,” your bolstering words about the deceased being too much for him to take without cracking, “he was a rich creep and everyone knew it,” frustratingly, he gesticulated, “with everything that he did to you, how can you just sit there and say that he was a nice person? The guy drugged you and violated you in your sleep for fuck sake!” 

The room went dead quiet as soon as those words left his lips. 

“…what are you talking about?” your voice no higher than a whisper as you watched your burly friend shrink in regret. “Curtis,” you repeated more sternly this time as he didn’t offer an explanation, “what do you mean? What did you do?” your voice broke as thoughts about if Lloyd’s arrest hadn’t been a misunderstanding after all entered your mind. 

“You can’t tell her,” Frank shot a glare at the fighter, “we had a deal.” 

“Yeah, well that was before Lloyd got fucking arrested!” Jake chimed in, panic shining clear through in his tone, “she’s a part of this, has been since the very beginning. She has a right to know.” 

Finding your wide eyes in the crowd, Curtis asked you wearily, “you really wanna know what happened that night?” hugging your knees tighter to your chest, you gave him a small nod in confirmation, “fine, I’ll tell you.”

…

“Is she okay?” Curtis pushed the ajar door open further to ask, haven, on his way to the bathroom,  caught sight of an out of breath Ransom tugging the covers back over your passed out form. 

The head of the cashmere-clad man snapped up at the sign of company, the sudden alarm that began to bloom on his features was quickly drowned out by his usual arrogant air, “yeah, man,” he shot back defensively, rushing to get out of the room, “she’s fine,” sounding like it had been a completely crazy question to ask. 

Furrowed brow staying put, Curtis uttered slowly, “alright, but I think I’m just gonna check myself, if you don’t mind.”

“I said she’s fine!” Ransom slammed the door shut behind him, prohibiting the man now only inches from him from entering, “just go back to your own room!”

Worry and suspicion only growing at the obvious fibs, Curtis demanded, “what were you doing in there? What did you do?”

“What are you talking about?” he scoffed back. 

“What did you do to her?” Curtis took a looming step closer just as their raised voices began to stir some of the other slumbering residents.

“I didn’t do a thing,” he cockily dared a chuckle, “calm down.”

“I will not fucking calm down,” Curtis barked back before attempting to call to you through the closed door, “angel, you okay?”

Leaning against the wall beside his own room, Jake rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he groaned, “guys, can you not yell in the middle of the night? Some of us are kinda trying to sleep here.”

Frank, as well haven appeared, seemed a little more alert at the sudden commotion in the hallway, “hey, what’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on,” their suspicious friend waved a hand, “Curtis is just being a little bitch and freaking out for no reason,” the ostentatious gesture granted the opposing man an opportunity to slip past and enter the room.

Nearly kicking the door down, Curtis rushed to your side, examining your unconscious form with worried eyes, “angel?” the dim lights streaming in from the hallway just barely letting him notice how wrinkled and haphazard the t-shirt he’d lent you just a few hours before was on you. 

“Jesus, just let her sleep, dude.”

Ignoring Ransom’s words of warning, Curtis tried once more, “Y/n?” touching your skin lightly before giving you a gentle shake, “come on, wake up for me, baby,” his heart nearly beat out of his chest as he unsuccessfully tried to stir you, the shallow rise and fall of your abdomen not granting him as much comfort as it should have. 

Nearing the end of the hall, Frank asked once more, “what’s going on?” side-eyeing Ransom warily, “is she okay?”

“Of course she’s okay,” the trust fund kid scoffed.

“The fuck she is,” Curtis’ head whipped back in the direction of Ransom’s silhouette in the doorway. Getting back up on his feet, his sharp intakes of air causing his shoulders to rise, he stormed back out and demanded, “what did you do? Why were you in here and why the fuck is she not waking up?”

“Did you not see how much she had to drink tonight?” Ransom defensively gestured to your passed-out form on the narrow bed, “I was just checking up on her,” and with a heavy sigh abandoned the argument entirely and descended the stairs. 

Catching Curtis’ arm just in time to stop him from storming down after the man at the centre of the quarrel, Frank tried to catch the darting eyes of his friend as he asked firmly, “Curtis, what’s going on?”

“I saw him in there, hovering above her like a creep.”

Already worried eyes suddenly growing in alarm, “he was in there?” Frank quickly shared a panicked look with Jake, both now sharing the same inkling of what horrible thing had occurred, “alone with her?”

“Yes.”

“Wait,” Frank gasped, “did you say she’s not waking up? She is still breathing though, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she’s just out cold. Why?”

“Oh my god…” Jake shuttered, his interrupted slumber now long forgotten.

“What? What is it? What aren’t you guys telling me?”

Exhaling lowly, Frank carefully began to explain, “Curtis, you know that my sister goes to Bayshore, right?”

“Um, sure, yeah?” unsure as to why that fact was significant.

“Well, she told me about this student who overdosed after being drugged and raped. The guy was apparently caught and everything but just came from a wealthy enough family to not only never be convicted, but also keep the news out of the papers. Curtis, that’s where Ransom transferred from.”

Seeing nothing but red, Curtis stormed down the stairs. On his determined path to the kitchen where the object for his bubbling rage now stood, leisurely sipping from a glass of water. Curtis narrowly caught sight of Lloyd as he finally stumbled through the entrance from his drawn-out merriment, uttering a hushed apology to the bulky frame of Steve on the couch for the way he had carelessly slammed the front door shut behind him.

Only rolling his eyes at the sight of Curtis, Ransom didn’t even lower his glass as the fuming figure neared, “dude, I already told you, I didn’t do a thing-” though the rest of his provoking words got squashed as Curtis’ fist suddenly collided with his jaw, swiftly grabbing onto his soft sweater before he could crumble like the shattered glass now scattered across the cool tile, “what the fuck!”  water splashing onto both of their feet. 

“What did you give her?” Curtis barked, his fingers digging into the intricate, stained knit so hard that they threatened to poke through to the other side. 

“Give who what?” appalled glare piercing as he fought against the hold. 

“Y/n!” he shook him heatedly, “what did you give her?”

“I didn’t give her shit, man,” Ransom just managed to spit out before white knuckles collided with his face once more. 

“Did you touch her? Because I swear to fuck, if you laid even as much as one finger on her, I’m gonna-”

“Oh, I see,” he actually dared to chuckle, a bit of crimson already staining the pearly whites he flashed, “you’re jealous that you didn’t get with her tonight.”

Landing another raging blow, Curtis yanked him in close and growled, “you shut up and answer my question! Did you touch her?”

Scoffing through his laboured groans of agony, Ransom finally disclosed smugly, “of course, I did, man. She’s been all over me all night long, begging for me to give it to her good.”

The rest of the frat haven now clustered in the kitchen as well, staying in the periphery, Frank accused, “what did you give her? Was it the same as the girl you killed back at Bayshore?”

The deep-pocketed man’s eyes flickered over Curtis’ shoulder, bruises blooming and swelling up his vision, “excuse me?” 

“The rape victim that overdosed at your old school?” the bridge of Frank’s nose twitched in fury, “it was you that killed her, wasn’t it?”

“I didn’t do anything of the sort, all I did was show those girls a good time, it’s not my fault some can’t keep up.”

“Is that what you think happened tonight?” Curtis hauled him against the fridge, gaining the man’s attention once more, “you call assaulting Y/n a good fucking time?”

Keeping his head held high, Ransom slurred, “what are you ashamed you’re not man enough to rough your girl up a bit and give her what she really likes?”

Huffing like a bull, he uttered, “she does not like it like that.”

“Oh yeah? Then tell me why I had her moaning the way I did, dripping down on ol’ Steve’s bed like a cheap whore. Kind of a shame that she won’t remember any of it in the morning, just hope I fucked her good enough that at least some part of her won’t forget…”

…

“Oh my god…” you shuttered, unable to look any of them in the eye, “oh my god,” your palm shot up to clasp over your lips to choke the shaky cry that forced its way out, “I thought-…” vision darting everywhere and nowhere at the same time, “I thought it had been a dream,” tears streamed down your ghostly face as the hazy nightmare suddenly came into focus, “oh my god! I-… I knew him,” you jaggedly tried to piece it all together as vile stung in the back of your throat, “he was-, he was my friend. I hadn’t known him that long, but he was my friend. I-… he wasn’t just some dangerous stranger in the back of an ally threatening to kill me, he was my friend.”

…

The incoherent screams of Curtis slowly subsisted as his rampant blows finally slowed down. Slowly backing up, chest heaving, horror took over his eyes as he saw how far he had been pushed, watching as blood bubbled out of Ransom’s mouth, guggling his words.

“Just you fucking wait till my family finds out,” he weakly continued his threats from his wrecked position on the tiled floor, “do you have any idea how much power money gives you? I can squash you all like little bugs, ruin any chance you might have of a pathetic future and keep angel all to myself.”

Unable to look away, Steve suddenly uttered as Curtis shakily retreated into the shadows, “…guys, we have to call an ambulance.”

Whipping his head around, Jake protested, “no, don’t!” ready to swat away any phone that might be raised, “he’s right. He has the upper hand no matter if we get him to a hospital or not.”

“So, what do we do? Look at him,” Steve woefully gestured to the beaten playboy crumbled on the floor, “he’s dying. We can’t just leave him here!”

“No…” Lloyd sighed, his demeanour seeming surprisingly calm and level-headed under the circumstance, “but we can use what little time we have left before the sun comes up to our advantage…” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Frank’s brows furrowed frightfully. 

In a wide arc around Ransom’s broken form, Lloyd made his way over to one of the kitchen counters and pulled open a drawer, “he said it himself,” he exhaled lowly as he accepted his fate, “he is more than capable of making not only angel’s life hell, but also all of ours,” his tone cold, he riffled through the utensils, “from where I’m standing, there’s only one way for us to get out of this with minimal casualties,” and fished out a knife, the steel reflecting in the low light seeping in through the other room. 

“You can’t be fucking serious,” Steve gasped, “we’re not murdering him!” 

“So you’d rather try and explain his corpse just lying here in our kitchen? This way we get the upper hand, we speed up the process and use the remainder of the night to our advantage till the rest of campus wakes up, hide him somewhere else, somewhere he won’t be found,” Lloyd stressed, “we have to kill him, it’s the only way.” 

“Shit dude…” Frank breathed, he and the rest realizing that he was right, “where would we even hide him?”

After only pondering it a second, Jake pipped up, “it’s trash day tomorrow,” tensely sharing glances with the rest, “if we get him to one of the big dumpsters on the other side of campus, drop him in there, no one will know! And even if they do eventually discover parts of him out on some dump, they won’t be able to get anything off of him anyways at that point.” 

“I-…” Curtis’ shaky voice finally filled the room, guilt seeping through in his brassy timbre as he asked what no one else would, “…who’s gonna do it?” 

Not letting the others even consider that weight, Lloyd swiftly declared, “I’ll do it.”

“What?” the trembling fighter’s eyes finally lifted.

“If they actually do somehow manage to nail us for this, it should be me that goes down for it,” he stated deliberately, “always knew I’d go to prison at some point just like my old man, this way it wouldn’t be for anything stupid.” 

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #evergreen university #curtis everett smut #steve rogers smut #ransom drysdale smut #chris evans smut #lloyd hansen smut #steve rogers x reader #ari levinson smut #jake jensen smut #frank adler smut #ransom drysdale x reader #ari levinson x reader #curtis everett x reader #frank adler x reader #jake jensen x reader #ari levinson imagine #steve rogers imagine #ransom drysdale imagine #curtis everett imagine #frank adler imagine #jake jensen imagine #lloyd hansen imagine #ransom drysdale au #lloyd hansen x reader #chris evans x reader #steve rogers au #steve rogers fanfic

[biteofcherry]

This is just a collection of very short scenes from Ruby Garden, focused on adventures in tangerine theft 😆

for @dumbgothbunny who asked for some crumbs of Ruby Garden 💗

Ruby Garden Masterlist

Each separated bit is about different Reader (meaning each Dom has a different Reader).

Dom!Lloyd Hansen x sub!reader

Dom!Ari Levinson x sub!reader

Dom!Andy Barber x sub!reader

Dom!Nick Fowler x sub!reader

Dom!Steve Rogers x sub!reader

Dom!Bucky Barnes x sub!reader x Dom!Curtis Everett

warnings: none really; it's pure playfulness and teasing; only brief mentions of punishments and filthy shmexy times; BDSM setting; Dom/sub dynamics; safe, sane and consensual; power imbalance

Intro

Out of all the snacks available for members of the Ruby Garden, it's the tangerines that somehow gained a status of most desired gold.

It happened as anecdotes and inner jokes happen - because of a one time incident.

A mistake in the order led to double quantity of bananas and complete lack of tangerines. Since Ari Levinson wasn't about to let anything go to waste, the buffet served bananas for a month in various forms (thankfully along with other available fruit, small salads and canapes). And not a single tangerine.

So when finally tangerines were ordered again when the bananas were all eaten, the submissives jumped on them like starved.

Which led to the decision of making little citrus fruit a rarity, so that their appearance brought joy and laughter.

It also started a game of tangerine theft.

Lloyd

You winked at your co-conspirator as the both of you followed Master Lloyd.

Well, you followed the crate of tangerines that were carried to the bar. It just so happened that Master Lloyd was the one who brought in the first crate and now the other.

You leaned against the bar, your friend along with you, bouncing in excitement. And a bit in impatience, as you waited for him to acknowledge your presence.

That he was aware of you standing there, you were sure.

Somehow Master Lloyd was always aware of his surroundings, like a predator in vigil.

You didn't know his line of work, but perhaps he was simply attuned to submissives so much he's aware when they sneak around. Especially when they try to avoid him and his whip.

You kicked your friend when she opened her mouth, undoubtedly to call for him.

No, no. If you're not another Master, you didn't call for Lloyd. You waited for his permission to speak.

Or accepted if he ignored you, since it meant he wasn't interested at all.

But thankfully, after a few more heartbeats, he turned around and arched a single eyebrow as he eyed you.

"What can I get you, bunnies?" He tilted his head, throwing a dishcloth over his arm as if he was a bartender.

You grinned and your friend giggled.

"We'd like tangerines," you stated boldly.

The game was mostly about theft, but no rules applied, meaning that asking for it counted as well. Besides, your goal was to distract Master Lloyd enough that the actual theft could happen...

"Tangerines?" Lloyd whistled. "Wow. You play big game, bunny."

"How big?" You licked your lips and gulped.

A part of you itched to feel that lick of whip, but a bigger part of you wanted to run fast - like the bunny he called you - and hide in a hole.

"You need to earn a tangerine." Lloyd crossed his arms. "With a trick."

"A trick?" You narrowed your eyes, trying to think of something you could do. You weren't a magician, nor a gymnast who could do flips.

Then it suddenly downed on you, your grin broadening.

Maybe you didn't knew some cool tricks, but you had a few from the past college party girl life.

"Can I earn two tangerines, if the trick is really neat?" You asked, linking your arm with your friend's.

"Sure, bunny," Lloyd chuckled.

Head held high, you went over to the counter loaded with smoothies in tall glasses. You picked one and brought it over to where you were standing earlier.

Taking the straw out of the glass, you tossed it aside. Then you crossed your wrists behind your back and leaned forward.

You opened your mouth wide and hovered above the glass for a few deep breaths. Then your mouth was on the glass, cheeks hollowing in a strong suck to keep the glass from falling out as you lifted up your head.

Slowly, not to choke on a rather thick smoothie, you tilted your head back and downed it all.

When you put the glass back down - still without using your hands; you felt slightly dizzy for a second. Then the sense of hilarious euphoria kicked in as you realized you managed to do that.

Judging by Master Lloyd's face, euphoria was the right feeling for the rest of your evening too.

"Bunny," he said, smirk curving his lips, "your mouth can earn a whole crate of tangerines, if you put your mind to it."

He held out two tangerines, which you accepted with a giggle.

"Tell you what," Lloyd leaned forward, "you can earn yourself two more, if you repeat that trick on my cock. And another two for your friend, if you manage not to cum while she licks you when you choke on my dick."

Ari

The girls were doing great job occupying Master Lloyd, giving you the perfect opportunity for your self-proclaimed ninja stealthy skills.

Having tiptoed to the other side of the bar countertop, you slid yourself across it; hand diving straight into the crate of tangerines, which was left there earlier.

Quickly, you grabbed two in one hand and two in the other. Hugging them to your chest, you wiggled back down.

However, your smile of triumph froze and then fell from your lips as soon as you turned around.

Your Master was standing right behind you, with arms crossed and a displeased look on his face.

Damn it!

You weren't even aware he was anywhere near to spot you. You made sure there was no one other around this side of the club, but somehow Ari detected you.

And sneaked up on you instead. How, you had no idea either. At least you were barefoot, which allowed extra silence to your step. Ari was wearing shoes and still moved so quietly you didn't hear him.

For a split of a second, your gaze drifted above his shoulder, before returning to his beautiful, but stern face.

Slowly, you lowered your arms as if ready to give him the tangerines in defeat.

Before that happened, however, you suddenly tossed the fruit over Ari's shoulder. Surprising him completely.

"Run girls, run!" You yelled.

Two other submissives, who were standing further away, caught the flying tangerines and ran off in opposite directions.

That was the whole main game plan for tonight. All of the submissives working together, so that at least some of them managed to steal and eat tangerines.

Ari's head whipped around the second you yelled. He watched two subs run like mad, squealing in delight (and partly in excitement upon the chase being now on their tail).

When he turned back to you, there was a look of utter disbelief on his face and you barely stopped yourself from snorting in amusement.

And then he burst out laughing. A roaring sound, with head thrown back and arms falling to his sides.

There were crinkles in the corners of his eyes as he looked down at you. Your own lips were curved in a happy smile, feeling blissful joy from making your Master laugh.

"Sacrificing yourself for the greater good, huh?" Ari chuckled, stepping closer.

"Sacrificing?" You asked nervously, taking a tentative step back.

Ari's hand shot up instantly, gripping the back of your neck and yanking you forward.

"Oh, definitely, Cherie." His voice dropped lower.

All of your blood seemed to flood lower, too; pulsing in your clit.

"Theft is punishable. Severely. We'll start by taking your thieving hands out of equation as you serve your atonement."

Though his words evoked a wave of heat, they also made you gulp. Ari's versions of punishments were unpredictable, always wicked. Inquisitors could learn from him.

"Will I get a tangerine afterwards?" You asked, trying for a cute face when he gripped your chin.

"If you're conscious." Ari declared in a deadly dark tone.

Andy

Having caught two flying tangerines, you made a quick swerve and then purposely slowed down.

Keeping a soft smile on your lips, you walked as if nothing happened. As if you weren't holding a tangerine in each hand, which you tried to hide with the layers of frilly, sheer dress you were wearing.

You passed another sub on your way, right by the bathrooms as you previously agreed. Brushing her hand against yours, seemingly casually, she took one of the tangerines.

You continued on, taking steady steps toward the actually empty submissive's nook - a cozy lounging space for submissives to sit between scenes or wait for their Masters.

Hiding in plain sight.

No one would even think you're bold enough to eat your tangerine of victory out in the open.

Peeling it quickly, you popped first piece into your mouth and smiled. Then another piece. And another. Though you often bought tangerines on your grocery trips, they never tasted like those in the ruby Garden.

Humming in giddy happiness, you scooped the orange peels and wrapped them in a wipe. Boxes of wipes were available all around, quite a necessary item in this kind of club.

You took another layer and wrapped it for good measure, then tossed it into a small bin in the corner.

"Hiding the evidence?" Andy's voice startled you.

You jumped with a squeak, accidentally kicking the bin as you straightened.

"Sir?" You twisted your hands behind you.

Quickly rubbing your palms on the fabric of your dress, you hoped to wipe off any remnants of citrus scent and flavor.

"Everything points to you stealing and eating a tangerine, Birdie." Andy neared, placing both hands on your shoulders and gently massaging them.

"I-" a part of you wanted to confess immediately.

But a part of you - the one that learned under Master Andy's care that playfulness was rewarded too - stopped you from blurting your citrus sins.

"I don't know what you mean, Sir," you replied instead, biting your lip.

"I see." Andy's blue eyes darkened, but his jaw remained relaxed, meaning he wasn't really cross with you.

His hands swiped down your arms, fingers encircling your wrists in a firm grip.

"You've never seen me put a suspect on a stand. Now you'll see it first hand." He linked your wrist cuffs together in front of you. "Let's see how your line of defense holds up after a few rapid rounds."

Nick

Swiping a tangerine from the other sub's hand, you trotted to the corner of the club that still was marked as unopened after a small renovation.

There was this black lacquered cocoon, not unlike the garden ones, which you wanted to hide and sway in for a while now.

It was supposed to be officially free to use as of the next day, so you didn't think that you hiding there would do any damage. And a hiding place you definitely needed, to follow with your tangerine crime.

You climbed into the cocoon, huffing at the height it was hung on. You snuggled into dark, soft cushions and stuck out one of your foot to push against the wall and get the cocoon rocking slightly.

Then you peeled the tangerine and ate it, with a cheshire grin on your face.

Frowning, when your hideout stopped swaying, you tried to get it into motion again. But it wouldn't budge.

You added more force, but nothing happened.

It downed on you why.

Gulping nervously, you quickly swiped tangerine peels under the cushions and sunk further into them, hoping to disappear.

"Funny," the drawl of Master Nick's voice sent a shiver down your spine, "I can smell citrus, but it's impossible for any to be here, right? Not in the still locked area. Far away from the buffet where the tangerines are supposed to be."

He appeared in your line of vision slowly, hand gliding along the lacquered wicker of the cocoon.

It was his strong hold that stopped the movement of the swing.

"Um, no, Sir," you looked up at him, sweet smile on your face. "Definitely no tangerines here."

"Mhm." He tilted his head to the side, gaze sliding over your body. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip in a slow, tempting motion. "Yet I still can smell it."

"Maybe it's my perfume," you shrugged, surprising yourself with the bold bullshit.

"Could be." Nick nodded, as if taking your argument seriously. "Or a sneaky submissive could've broken the sacred tangerine law and is in need of punishment."

Suddenly he was in your space, half of his body in the cocoon as he caged you in.

"You won't mind, if I sate my curiosity, right Bonbon?"

He took one of your wrists into his hand, lifting your arm and trailing the tip of his nose so slowly against it. From your shoulder to your wrist.

He gently pressed your arm back against the wicker backrest, above the cushions.

Then suddenly your wrist was trapped.

"What the h-" you barely stopped yourself from cursing. You turned your head, neck craning uncomfortably. Only to see your hand cuffed to the backrest.

You haven't noticed the shackles before! Damn it!

Nick was quick to cuff your other wrist as well. When his big hand gripped your ankle, you squeaked.

He forced your leg up, bending it at the knee and pulling it slightly to the side. Your ankle was secured in a cuff at the bottom rim of the cocoon. So was the other.

Leaving you spread like a little frog ready for dissection.

"I'll just probe around, Bonbon," Nick's smile was cruel as he ran his fingertips down your inner thighs.

You realized then, why the cocoon was at this particular height.

Since your exposed pussy was almost perfectly aligned with Master's hips.

Bucky and Curtis

One of the two tangerines flying from above Master Ari's shoulder almost smacked you right in the face, but you managed to catch it.

With a squeal, you hugged them to your chest and sprinted right.

You hurried to the little nook you have scouted for yourself earlier. Behind a huge potted Areca palm that stood between two couches in the Dom's lounging corner.

Kneeling behind it, you peeled both tangerines. You stuck the peels inside the plant's pot - a win win, really: you got the sweet citruses and hid the evidence, and the palm got free compost.

You were about to munch on your tangerine, when heavy steps neared your tiny corner.

Two sets of heavy steps. Crap.

Trying not to move too rapidly, you peeked from behind green fans of palm leaves. Hoping that they simply walked over to sit and lounge, and that they would go away soon.

Unfortunately for you, Masters Curtis and James (who liked to be called Bucky outside of scene) were standing right in front of the palm, their eyes settled on you.

"Gonna come out of your den, little fawn, or do you need me to yank you out?" Curtis' firm, gruff voice was marginally colored with amusement.

When you didn't move right away, Bucky crouched down. It allowed him to be more at your eye level, but you knew it wasn't to make you feel equal. But so you could really see the icy blue of his ice shine with promise of repercussions.

"See, little fawn," Bucky said, "the worst mistake a prey does is making a sound. And your cute squeak was like a beacon that called to us."

He grinned and you felt your heart rise to your throat. Then it dropped down straight to your clit, making it pulse so rapidly you thought you may come just from their overwhelming, dangerous aura.

Your gaze skittered around, fingers clenching around the two small fruit. There really was no place to run. And you didn't even get to eat your tangerine yet.

Maybe you could stuff one right into your mouth, before you walked out to them?

Just when you were considering defeat, you noticed that the backrest of one of the couches was sloped. There was a nook right at the bottom, a corridor between the wall and the couch.

If you were fast, you could make it.

Especially since there was a set of two coffee tables the Doms had to move around before they could reach the other end of the couch you'd be crawling behind.

You made it look as if you were rounding the big pot, hoping to fool them.

And then you sprinted on your hands and knees, squeezing yourself between the back of the couch and the wall.

Somehow you managed to get free, without getting caught right away. So you fled.

This time not knowing where, only that you had to run away from the big bad monsters. You also really, really hoped they would catch you. Oh God, how you hoped this thrill of chase would explode into another surge of adrenaline and endorphins upon being caught.

As you ran, you passed another submissive. You forced one of the tangerines (slightly squeezed) into her hands and darted forward.

You were sure you're hearing heavy footsteps behind you. You were about to glance over your shoulder to check how close they were on you, when suddenly you slammed into a warm wall of muscles.

Bucky caught you, chuckling at your loud squeak.

Then Curtis was pressing behind you, his shadow cutting out any light and making you breathe harder.

"What to do with a naughty fawn?" Curtis hummed, curling his fingers around the front of your neck and pulling your head backwards, until it rested on his chest.

"I say a spry, sweet venison is best to be roasted," Bucky's arms were still around you, caging your own arms at your sides.

His breath tickled your cheek before he nipped your earlobe.

"Spitroasted."

Steve

You were obediently staying in place as your Master prepared the bench for what he had planned for you tonight. Already naked, you kept your gaze mostly to the ground, still battling your insecurity to look upwards and bravely face whoever may be glancing your way.

Which is why you didn't see the bolt of heavily breathing submissive darting your way.

Only when you heard the commotion did you look up. Just as she ran past you.

As she did, she dropped something small and sticky into your hands.

Eyes wide in surprise, you watched her run away and Master Curtis prowling right after, determined smile curving his lips.

There was no Master James in sight, which meant he was probably already cutting off the submissive's escape rout.

Your eyes shifted back to what was in your hands and they widened further.

A peeled tangerine.

Sacred, forbidden, so so tempting.

You glanced at Steve, who still had his back to you as he readjusted the straps. For s second you got distracted by the way the muscles in his back flexed as he worked.

But a trickle of citrus juice tickling your finger reminded you of the gold in your hands.

You ripped away one tiny piece and quickly stuffed it in your mouth. In the very last moment you stopped yourself from moaning around it.

Then you popped another piece into your mouth, smiling as the slightly sour flavor mixed with sweetness.

You munched on two pieces at once, squeezing your eyes shut when the juice grazed your throat, nearly causing you to cough.

"Don't choke, Darling." Steve's amused voice almost made you do that.

You turned to him swiftly, one hand flying to cover your still chewing mouth, the other squeezing tangerine tighter.

Blue eyes shimmering with laughter, Steve took your hand and pried it off your face. Crinkles around his eyes seemed to deepen when he saw your puffed cheeks and puckered, juicy mouth.

"I always knew you're magical, but to summon a tangerine without moving from your spot is an astonishing trick," he teased.

He brought your hand to his lips, then licked the juice off your fingertips.

When he let go of your hand, but kept his outstretched, palm up, you knew what he demanded. You placed the tangerine in Steve's hand, with a little regretful sigh.

"Quite a few pieces left still, Darling." Steve glanced at the remaining tiny, orange moons.

"Since I know you're my good girl, I'm sure you'll deserve them when we're done." He ran a single finger along your cheek, then used it to tilt your chin up.

"I'll feed you them myself. Each piece for every orgasm you give me."

Your pupils dilated and your thighs clenched.

There was still at least half of a tangerine remaining. More than three or four pieces. Five perhaps.

"And then-" Steve leaned closer, his lips brushing against yours- "I'll tell you how to steal tangerines, so no one catches you."

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader x curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x female reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x female reader #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x female reader #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x you #nick fowler x female reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x female reader #dom!steve rogers #dom!bucky barnes #dom!curtis everett #dom!andy barber #dom!ari levinson #dom!lloyd hansen #dom!nick fowler #ruby garden

[onsunnyside]

∮ 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐁𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Stepdad!Ari Levinson x innocent!reader x Stepdad's Best Friend!Lloyd Hansen

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | AGE GAP, STEPCEST, innocent!/inexperienced!reader, jealousy, possessive behaviour, dilf!Ari Levinson, dilf!Lloyd Hansen. size difference: 6’6” Lloyd & 6’7” Ari. SMUT - minors DNI, “exhibitionism” but it’s more like voyeurism, “lessons,” fingering (f), p*ssy slapping, daddy kink, dirty talk, innocence/ruined kink, corruption kink, degradation, dumbification, size kink, dacryphilia, spitting, oral (f), overstimulation, squirting.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | It’s the summer before your freshman college year, and your stepdad’s best friend has been teaching you about pleasure behind your stepdad’s back, or so you think. Based on this ask.

𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑

𝗪/𝗖 | 4.19K

𝗔/𝗡 | must resist making this into a filthy series but I have no self control so let's see what you all think first !! reader took a year off before applying to college, and lived with her dad before moving in with her mother and meeting Ari. This was written for my 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲… 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲. All mistakes are my own. [all asks]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Grabbing another piece of bread, you quickly stuff your mouth to muffle your moans. You dare to spare a glance at your lap, which was definitely a bad idea. 

His fingers are drenched, coated to the knuckle with your slick as he pumps in and out of your core. With your cute summer dress flipped up, and your panties hanging out of his pocket—you fall apart all over again. 

Your eyes squeeze shut as your ankles hook around the legs of the chair, hips grinding against his hand.  Weakly attempting to hold him still, you teeter over the cusp and tremble, your juices dripping out and trailing down your leg. Lloyd doesn’t stop, in fact, he only gets rougher. Your grip is nothing compared to his hunger to have you make a stupid mess on Ari’s fancy cushioned dining chairs for the second time that evening. 

It all started when he dropped his fork and slipped under the table to retrieve it. To your surprise, he found more interest in the shortness of your dress, and being crouched between your legs, he caught a glimpse of your pink cotton panties. 

Lloyd couldn’t control himself, he needed to touch you. 

Also, today's lesson was on staying quiet and subtle: “college kids will fuck anywhere, you need to learn to keep those pretty lips shut and not be so obvious.” 

These lessons started at the beginning of the summer after one night of too much wine. To your stepfather’s best friend, you confessed your sexual inexperience and the itching worry of being unlike the rest of your peers. 

He simply brushed over your core, and you choked on a gasp before your lovely stepfather left to refill the pitcher of water. Lloyd took that opportunity to pry your thighs apart and sloppily mouth over your clothed cunt, groaning heavily against you. 

The older man sucked on your clit, flicking the bundle with his tongue and soaking the cotton in salvia before tearing off your panties and returning to his seat. That was just in time for Ari to rush back with the full pitcher. 

For however long, he’s been working you with his fingers. A numbing combination of teasing and overstimulation tearing you apart like petals from a delicate flower. Your delicate flower. 

Surging forward for another piece of bread, you shove it into your mouth. The dull ache in your jaw goes ignored because this was the only way to shut up—Lloyd didn’t give you a break or even a breathier. 

The older brunet scoots closer, it’s barely noticeable and it gets him a better angle on your cunt. He tries to slip a third finger alongside the rest, prodding at your already-full hole, but you’re too tight and too small for his thick digits. Lloyd settles for sliding in deep and rubbing your sore clit with his palm, curling his long fingers against that little rough patch inside you with ease. 

He slows down as he tells a story of his recent travels, or his recent date—god, you don’t know. You can barely think with his thick digits scissoring you open, tracing up your slit to your clit to rub it in hard circles. He pulls back a few inches, then swings forward with a swift slap on your warmth, making your knee slam into the table. 

Your stepfather looks over with wide eyes, “Woah, slow down, honey. You might choke.” He chuckles, refilling your glass of water, “drink something before your mouth dries out.” 

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nod. 

Lloyd has a sick smirk on his face as he lightly spanks your pussy, it isn’t as hard as the first time but it sends the same shocks through your body. 

Ari runs a hand through his long brown hair, “Sweetie, have you told Lloyd about being accepted to your dream college?”  

A squeaky reply is all the men get, your stomach tensing all over again as Lloyd teasingly fucks you with his pinky. The cool metal of his ring presses against your heat, and you want nothing more than to rock against his hand, begging him to just force a third finger into you. 

“Oh really!” He feigns surprise, his moustache twitching as he grins, “well, aren’t you a smart cookie—soon enough, you’ll be even richer than me.”

Ari smiles brightly, “I’m very proud of her, she’s such a good girl. After her year off and with her mother absent so often, you’d think she’d act up or have an attitude, but no. This little one is an angel, never even curses.”

Lloyd knows that, he also knows that you turn into a flustered mess when you attempt dirty talk. The most he ever got from you was a weak, “want y-your mouth on me—down there please, daddy.” 

“Silly girl, you’ve got crumbs on your face, c’mere.” 

Your eyes widen when Ari leans over the table, gently pinching your chin to wipe around your lips. A loud thumping fills your head in the same rhythm as your heart, it clouds your senses as fear courses through your veins. One glance over the edge, and Ari would see his best friend knuckle deep in your pussy, slowly working his ring finger alongside his pinky. 

With stiff bones, you clench your thighs and trap Lloyd’s hand when he tries to pick up the pace—you knew he had a thing for secrecy and the thrill, but it was like he wanted you to come again right now, to get caught. 

After what seemed like hours, Ari finally retreats. When he sits back down, he knocks over a spoon and it loudly clatters to the floor. 

“Aw, shit—” Ari huffs and looks around. “I think it went under the table.” 

“I’ll get it!” You slap a hand over your mouth, and embarrassment blooms as their clear blue eyes land on you, “sorry, um, I’ll get it for you.” 

“It’s okay, I’m not so old that I can’t bend down anymore.” Your stepfather laughs, wiping his hands and pushing out of his chair. 

All oxygen is yanked from your lungs as you try to swat away Lloyd’s hand, but he took advantage of your flustered state and pried your thighs open again. Ruthlessly fingering your weepy cunt, stretching you open as you desperately try to cross your legs. 

You watch horrified as your stepfather disappears under the table, and your shaky hands clutch your dress, hoping to conceal at least a pinch of your modesty. 

Nothing happens. 

“A-Ari?”

It’s quiet for a few moments before a breath fans across your wet core. “I still can’t believe you couldn’t hold back from someone this once. Like really, my stepdaughter?”

A warm hand slides up your thigh, forcing your legs further apart, this time wide enough to fit a tall, muscular 6’7” man. 

Next to you, Lloyd shrugs. “What can I say? When she said how worried she was about being inexperienced, I had to offer my expertise.” 

Realization hits you like ice water, shocking you to the core. You’re limp as they easily manhandle you, making you lean against the back of the chair and slide closer to the edge. You feel like a doll as Ari tugs off your socks, slowly kissing up your calf to your knee, then switching to the other leg for the same treatment. His beard is rough against your skin, tickling you when he trails to your inner thighs. 

You almost forgot Lloyd was keeping you plugged up with his skilled fingers. 

Ari’s hair falls in front of his forehead as he looks up, licking his lips as if he’s leering at a full course meal, “I guess that means I should finally join too. Need to know what all the fuss is about.” Ari mutters, massaging the flesh inches from your soppy cunt, “What’s this lesson?”

Lloyd resumes his thrusts, disgusting wet noises making it all too obvious how much you were enjoying this—crossing the forbidden bridge, betraying your mother and diving headfirst into something you don’t even know. Tears start to well in your eyes, from pleasure and shame. 

“Aw, sweetheart, did you think your stepdaddy didn’t know anything?” Lloyd pouts at you, his hand tracing up and down your slit, from your clit to your creamy hole, “He knows everything. He knows that you rode my thigh, sucked my cock by the pool—oh, and he knows that you want to try anal this summer.”

You’re mortified as Ari chuckles, “I didn’t think you had it in you, baby. Always thought you were my sweet, innocent little girl—now I know you’re just a clueless slut who likes older men.”

The other brunet brings his hand to your face, showing you the strings of arousal webbed between his knuckles. “What a pretty crying face,” He watches the tears trail down your cheeks, and he restrains himself from licking them, “I’m sorry, pumpkin. I had to tell him, that’s what best friends do.” His eyes shine wickedly, “You're his little girl, he has the right to know what I’m doing to his stepdaughter.”

Ari leans close, the tip of his tongue following the traces of your last orgasm until he’s close enough to only smell you, nothing else. “Can you tell me what Lloyd is teaching you today, honey?”

Excitement drips out of you and down your puckered hole, creating a mess under your ass. You’re caught between humiliation and striking anticipation, but most of all, you’re confused—what do you do? What are you supposed to do in this situation?

“I asked you a question, baby. Unless Lloyd already fucked you stupid with just his fingers. Did he stretch your untouched cunt so good that you can’t even speak anymore?”

You helplessly nod, bottom lip wobbling as you slowly grind against the air, “Was s-supposed to keep quiet, not be obvious.”

Ari pins you down again, “Well, you need more practice on that. Almost bent you over the table after watching you come.” He spreads your sticky folds to examine your most sensitive spot. “Bad girl, you aren’t supposed to like this. Aren’t virgins supposed to be pure, not lifting their dresses for men twice their age.”

Lloyd laughs, “your little girl isn’t a virgin anymore, daddy.”

Your stepfather stiffens, head snapping up to shoot daggers to his friend’s face. “You fucked her?” 

“Not me, some guy she met when she went to New York.” 

Ari’s glare lands on you, and you can feel it in your soul. The burning sensation of his dark, heated blue eyes sears through your skin, and erupts an uncontrollable blaze of humiliation and guilt. 

“Oops, did I forget to mention that?” Lloyd hums thoughtfully, the ghost of a mischievous smirk on his lips. “My bad, it must’ve slipped my mind.”

“Yeah, I bet it did.” Your stepfather’s tone is sharper than a knife. 

The beginnings of an apology are on the tip of your tongue—but Lloyd shoves his fingers in your mouth, making you gag and taste yourself. A pitiful whimper floats into the open air, fluttering to the same spot your “I’m sorry, Ari” would have. 

“She’s so cute when she wants to come, or when it’s too much. You should really hear her beg.” Lloyd reminisces of you moaning into his ear the other day when you were bouncing on his thigh in the gym. After watching him work out, he said you deserved another lesson for keeping quiet to your stepfather. 

Looking back, you felt proud of yourself, but now you feel tricked. Ari knew the whole time and you were the fool. And, he just got struck with the revelation that you aren’t a virgin. 

There was no telling what would come next. 

“Too bad she failed today’s lesson. I used to hook up with girls all over campus during my days. In the library, washroom, closets, even hallways if we couldn’t find somewhere.”

“I know, one of them was my ex.”

“Pfft, she was a four at best.” Lloyd turns his attention to you, dipping his hand back between your legs, now soaked with your spit, “But this pumpkin, she’ll be a real hit.” He smirks, “ain’t that right? You’ll show all the guys what we’re going to teach you?” 

You cry out when he swats your cunt, wet slaps fill the dining room as he repeats the action again and again. A burn emits after each spank on your poor clit, right in place of his fingers. The moment he stops, Ari takes his place, spitting on your petals and giving you his fair share of slaps, harder and rougher. A clear form of punishment. 

“She’s fuckin’ soaked,” He marvels at the cream and his mouth waters, “You like getting your pussy slapped, honey? Since you like it so much, maybe I should stop. Rightfully punish you for letting some guy pop your cherry without my permission.” He hisses, nostrils flaring, “Lloyd told me you’ve squirted from this, soaked your bed sheets while I was sleeping next door.” 

The moustached man sucks his fingers, cleaning your juices with desire. “I guess you should thank me, Ari. Since all of a sudden, you grew a pair of balls.” 

The implication was true yet you had no clue about it. How much Ari has wanted you, longed for your body under his—for you to be his. So, he did what any other person in his position would have done, his utterly sinful and taboo situation. He forced himself to keep a distance from his young and beautiful stepdaughter because this was wrong, but it felt so right. 

Ari laughs humourlessly, easily pushing your chair back so he can pop up from under the table. Now, on his knees between your legs, inhaling your intoxicating scent as his friend spreads your weepy petals, exposing your most sensitive spot to your stepdad. 

“Think I can slide in there too?”

Lloyd snorts, “You can try, but this little thing could barely take two of mine.”

“What do you say, baby? Are you going to let your stepdad stretch your pussy too?” His lashes brush his cheekbones with every slow blink, the underlying hint of anger still present. 

You offer nothing but a shaky yes, desperate to make it up to him, to be his good girl like you’ve always been since you met him. It was only a year ago, but moving from your father’s house to Ari’s mansion was a dramatic change. Not only did you have an immediate crush on him, but you were welcomed into a world of riches, luxurious yachts and vacations. 

Your attachment to Ari grew quickly. From your workaholic father, to your absent mother, you never had anyone to rely on. While your mother was on business trips or spending her new husband’s money, your pure, sheltered little heart leapt at the chance of having someone to trust. 

He has always been so kind to you, a true gentleman when it came to treating you with honour and respect, he was also who you went to for advice. All advice except sexually—although, he did know about your first kiss. 

He’s been aware of your lessons with his best friend, even encouraged them perhaps, but he’s upset about your New York trip. 

You suddenly wish he was the one to take your virginity instead of that blue-eyed, blond boxer, regardless of how handsome and charming he was. You wanted Ari, you wanted him so badly. 

Your wide gaze follows his thick and long digits circle your hole and collect your juices before slipping in. He’s bigger than Lloyd and feels entirely different. As he reaches deeper, he stretches you wider, and your arousal gushes out around him. 

He’s nearly drooling at the sight of you struggling to take only two, “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, baby. You’ve been keeping it from me—you gave it to someone else, and that isn’t very nice.” His thumb lands on your clit, rubbing hard on the sensitive nub. 

You moan loudly, and your hands scramble, your touch is placed on something and that something happens to be Lloyd’s hard cock. He’s as warm and heavy in your hand as the first time, that familiarity makes your stomach tighten and your walls clench around Ari. 

“Remember what I told you, baby?” Lloyd’s hand dwarfs yours as he secures your fist and slowly moves you up and down his length. He uses your slick from his fingers to make the slide easier. “C’mon, use that dumb little brain for daddy.” 

A series of needy whimpers flow above when Ari scissors his fingers. His bicep flexes when he pumps into you, twisting and curling his digits as you try to remember what Lloyd told you during one of your first lessons: how to pleasure a man. 

“Poor girl, she isn’t going to last much longer.” Ari spits again, growling as it dribbles down your swollen clit to his other digit prodding at your hole, “You aren’t coming until I’ve got three fingers in you.” 

The mere thought of taking three and being that full makes you mewl. Tears flow freely as his ring finger shoves in, joining his two other sturdy ones. He presses to his hilt and out again, coating them in your slick with every thrust. Your pussy weeps a stupid mess between your trembling thighs and you latch onto his head, stabilizing yourself with a pathetic cry, either begging for a break or pleading for more.   

Your fist tightens and Lloyd throws back his head, neck tensing as he hisses your name, “that’s it, good girl. Slowly, don’t want to waste my come, yeah? My baby wants it on her little cunt, wants to feel my seed on her not-virgin pussy.”

Ari lets out a disgruntled noise, his actions getting rougher and the squelching noises get louder. 

Lloyd kisses you, tongue slipping into your slack mouth. Salvia is exchanged between your muffled whines and you struggle to keep up, but with Ari between your legs, you can’t think straight. 

The tingles flutter all over your body, strumming you just right. Pure pleasure takes over your senses, hyper-focusing on the two men that have the strength to shatter you like fine china. You feel so small and powerless next to him, and with one of them devouring your cunt. 

His tongue swipes along your fold, flat and wide, gathering your cream before he spits it back onto you. Making you even messier and wetter for his fat fingers. Your toes curl in euphoria, and you’re entranced by the feeling of every ridge and his warm exhales combined with the slight brush of his facial hair.  

When he pulls back, it’s as if he’s a completely different man. Dark, ferocious and hungry with a beastly glimmer in his eyes. Even on his knees, he still feels bigger than you. 

“Fuck you, Lloyd—greedy bastard.” Ari dives forward, shoving his face into your pussy. His fingers spear you open as he drinks down your slick, his nose rubbing against your clit with every hard stroke of his tongue. 

Every thought, every responsibility is torn from your head and replaced with these two men.

Ari has yanked down the front of your dress, massaging your breasts and pinching your nipples as he devours you. Drawing out your choked moans like he was being paid for it. He releases you with a pop, trailing his lips to kiss your thighs to sweep up any rogue arousal. 

His cheek is pressed to your thigh, his blue eyes flickering between you making out with his friend and your hole as it cries around his fingers, adding to the mess on your chair. 

“D-Daddy, my—my thing please.” You beg, salvia covering your chin. 

He kisses your inner thighs, two fingers in your pussy, “What was that?”

Lloyd reaches down, spanking your puffy clit before forcing two more digits next to Ari’s. With a loud gasp, your hips raise at the sudden stretch. A dull pain blooms from your core, bleeding into every part of your body as your cunt tries to adjust. 

You squeal between clenched teeth, thighs threatening to shut before your stepfather pins them open, hooking your knees over his shoulders. “Poor little cunt—she’s stretched to the brim, makes me wonder how my cock is gonna fit. Guess I’ll just force it in, huh, baby?” 

“Yes, yes, yes—please. Want it, want you.” You blubber. 

“Don’t you wish you had me pop your cherry with my big cock? I would have made you feel so good for your first time, worked you open just like this until you were ready. Then, I would have taken you nice and slow, fucked your untouched pussy, make you come as many times as you wanted.” His voice is low, almost a rumble in his chest, “but no, my little girl had to be a stupid slut and get fucked by some other guy—you shouldn’t even get to come for the whole fucking summer.” 

“Now, isn’t that a bit excessive?”

“No. If anything, it’s not enough.” Ari growls, “That purity—that honour was supposed to be mine.” 

You’re a twitching mess as they work you open, broken cries shake your chest as tears drip down your chin. Your eyes are shut tightly as you blindly reach for Ari’s hair, fisting the strands, you yank him closer to your core. 

You hadn’t even noticed you released Lloyd’s length until he grabs your hand, entwining your fingers and holding you still. 

He curls his digits, massaging your spot, “Oh, I think she wants you to suck on her clit.”

“Is that right, baby? You want your stepdaddy to suck your button? You think you deserve it for being a whore?” He asks. His resolve grows weaker as you moan his name between pleads, feebly trying to pull him to your cunt. 

“Fine, but you’re going to squirt for me.” He captures your clit in his mouth, sucking delicately at first. His blue eyes captive yours as he hums against you, the vibrations make you clench around their fingers, sucking them greedily. 

Your stepfather presses closer, massaging your bundle with his tongue between suckles as they get harsher and hungrier, his rough facial hair digging deep into your puffy folds. 

It’s a wonder how you lasted this long, between their filthy words and their skilled hands, and now Ari’s warm mouth—you can’t take it anymore. 

Your salty tears seep on your taste buds as your jaw falls open, and a silent scream escapes your tense throat. You convulse roughly, and your hips have a mind of their own as they move against Ari’s face and the men’s fingers.

“Keep her filled up,” Ari demands, he has to hold you down while Lloyd leans forward, breathing heavily. 

As Ari’s fingers slip out, their absence is quickly filled with two of Lloyd’s, your wetness drips down his wrist and on his fancy watch, but he couldn’t care less.

Your stepfather spits on his hand, then pushes down on your stomach, and roughly rubs and spanks your cunt in quick succession. He continues to brutally strum your swollen nub with his fingers as your juices squirt everywhere.

They watch as you reach your high, flailing around like a fish out of water and grabbing onto any part of them you can reach. You cling to Lloyd’s wrist and Ari’s hair, trapping him inches from your pussy. 

A good portion of your orgasm lands on Ari’s face, evident on his cheeks, thick beard, and ironed flannel. Their touches leave a few moments later, and you break down in tears as you finally take a breath, shuddering with oversensitivity as even the slightest wisp of air on your core feels like fire.  

Your stepfather is the first to speak, his pink tongue eagerly sweeping any trace of you from his lips. He wants to smother his face in your pussy. “Let me just have one more taste.” Ari leans forward, he gets one lick before you’re shoving him away, sobbing as his facial hair brushes your sensitive folds. 

“Sorry, baby. Daddy’s sorry.” He apologies, but if you could see him now, you’d notice the smugness written all over his face. “Forgot you’re still so inexperienced and not used to all this stimulation.” He pulls back with a lingering kiss on your button, revelling in your pathetic pleas. 

“Shh, you’re okay, pumpkin.” Lloyd caresses your cheek, kissing all over your sweaty face—he growls at the bitterness of your tears. “Gotta be gentle or else we’ll ruin you.” 

“Yes, p-please be n-nice.” You hiccup, still twitching in the chair. You fear you bit off more than you can chew. “Don’t… ruin, please.” An ache blooms from your awkward position, but the burning from between your thighs easily overpowers that. 

Ari and Lloyd laugh as if you told the funniest joke in the world.  

“Oh, it’s too late for that, dumb baby.” Lloyd chuckles with a sinister smile. 

Ari makes a sound of approval, wiping your juices from his beard with a napkin, “You, little lady, won’t be the same after the summer.” 

He couldn’t have been more right. 

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: oh the filthy potential… the whole summer learning from these two dilfs 😵‍💫😵‍💫 I just know Ari has some other friends too, oh can’t forget about your professors next year 🫠 or that blond boxer in New York...

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! This was written for my 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲… 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3

☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

#daddy sorry daddy party #Ari Levinson #Ari Levinson x reader #Lloyd Hansen #Lloyd Hansen x reader #tw stepcest #ari levinson fanfiction #lloyd hansen fanfiction #ari levinson fanfic #lloyd hansen fanfic #ari levinson smut #lloyd hansen smut #stepdad Ari Levinson #ari levinson x innocent!reader #Lloyd Hansen x innocent!reader #innocent reader #size difference #sonny’s stories #step by step au #Chris evans #chris evans characters #chris evans smut #Ari Levinson x you #lloyd hansen x you #stepdad!ari levinson #lloyd hansen x fem!reader #ari levinson x female reader #dilf!ari levinson #dilf!lloyd Hansen #inexperienced!reader

[deliciousangelfestival]

Let Me Love You - 8 || End

Character: college!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: On a mysterious, rainy night, Bucky witnesses a distressing encounter involving his crush.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Please let me know what your thoughts are. I'd love to hear your feedback. Thank you once again.

You only muttered a noncommittal "hmm" when you heard your father's words. Matthew, on the other side of the phone, could only sigh.

Before the divorce, you would chat with him, sharing your thoughts and feelings. But now, your responses were short and distant: "I'm fine," "Yeah," "No," and "Thanks."

"I'm sorry. It's all because of my mistakes," Matthew said, his voice heavy with regret.

'That's right,' you thought bitterly, your grip tightening around the phone.

Matthew's voice softened, filled with a sadness you couldn't ignore. "Don't think about it. Get some rest."

You nodded silently, even though he couldn't see you, feeling the emotional chasm between you both widen further.

After ending the call with your father, you felt lonely. Just then, your phone buzzed with a message from Bucky: "Good night."

Despite the earlier conversation, a small smile tugged at your lips, a warmth spreading through you. Bucky's simple message felt like a lifeline, a reminder that someone cared.

🎓

The next day, you felt a knot of nervousness in your stomach as you stepped onto the university campus. The thought of facing everyone, especially after the recent events, was daunting.

Bucky was beside you, his presence a comforting anchor in your anxiety. He glanced at you, noticing the tension in your expression.

"Hey," he said gently, "you've got this. I'm here with you."

You gave him a small, grateful smile, trying to draw strength from his support. "Thanks, Bucky. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He nodded, his eyes full of reassurance. "You don't have to worry about that. You're not alone in this."

While walking to class, you and Bucky noticed that nobody even glanced your way. It seemed like everyone was absorbed in their phones, gasping and starting animated discussions.

Suddenly, a cheering scream erupted from afar. You looked around, puzzled. "Something to celebrate?" you asked, glancing at Bucky.

Steve joined both of you, a wide grin on his face. "It's for the football team. Especially Ari." He held out his phone, showing you the photos.

You gasped, your eyes widening as you read the article.

"They chose Ari Levinson instead of Lloyd," said Steve. The headline and accompanying photos detailed the unexpected turn of events.

Bucky leaned in to get a better look, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "Wow, that's a big change. I wonder what happened."

The campus football team had two standout players: Lloyd Hansen and Ari Levinson.

Lloyd was the main star, possessing a charisma that the camera loved. He thrived in the spotlight, his confident demeanor drawing attention on and off the field.

In contrast, Ari preferred quiet, shying away from the limelight. Despite his reserved nature, his skills on the field were undeniable.

But how did such a sudden change occur when everyone knew Lloyd was the chosen one?

You remembered what your father had said the previous night.

Reaching for your phone, you called him. "Dad?"

Matthew answered, his voice calm yet firm. "No one will underestimate you this time."

Unbeknownst to you, your father was at the campus, standing in the headmaster's office with the football coach and Lloyd. He looked out from behind the blinds, looking at you from afar.

Matthew ended the call and turned his attention to Lloyd, who sat with his head down, looking pale and defeated.

Matthew stepped closer, his voice low and stern. "Is this how you repay me? You promised to protect my daughter."

Lloyd clenched his fist, his knuckles white with tension. He knew Matthew's history as a former NFL player and the football coach at their previous high school. He had never anticipated that Matthew had the power to derail his path to the professional league.

Matthew's presence was imposing, a silent reminder of his authority.

It was Matthew who had trained Lloyd and provided the recommendation that helped him secure the scholarship. Some called him biased since Lloyd was dating his daughter, but as long as Lloyd made you happy and showed big potential, Matthew was willing to support him.

But now, this kid had cheated on his daughter. This sinful mistake reminded Matthew of his own past missteps.

He decided to teach Lloyd a valuable lesson. Not everything could go as he planned.

Matthew adjusted his jacket buttons and looked at Lloyd with a steely gaze. "You're good. Keep training. Perhaps another team will scout you."

With that, he turned and left the room, leaving Lloyd to ponder the gravity of his actions and the consequences they had brought upon him.

Lloyd clenched his fists, frustration boiling as he punched his knees in anger. His life felt crumbling before his eyes, all because of that woman.

Where the heck was she now?

Nicky stood in the bustling airport, a knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach. She had paid the hacker to erase her digital footprint, to free herself from the consequences of her actions. Yet, despite her efforts, an ominous sense of impending doom lingered in the air.

As she went to the priority lounge, her phone buzzed with an incoming call. With trembling hands, she answered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Hi, Dad."

The voice on the other end was filled with disappointment and anger. "You still brave enough to talk? You idiot. I thought you had quit from those bullying things. Your mistakes will ruin the company."

Nicky gasped, feeling the weight of her father's words like a physical blow.

"I've received the files of your bad deeds," her father continued, accusing. "What the heck is wrong with you, Nicky?"

Desperation flooded Nicky's senses as she tried to find the right words to explain. "Dad... wait. I can explain—"

But her father's voice cut through her protestations. "You want to leave the country. Good. Don't ever come back."

The line went dead, leaving Nicky feeling as though her world had crumbled around her. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she struggled to process the magnitude of her father's words.

As if on cue, the cashier at the priority lounge interrupted her thoughts with a grim announcement. "Miss, your credit card has been declined."

Nicky's heart sank further, the realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. Everything she had planned, her escape from the consequences of her actions, was slipping through her fingers.

Nicky wondered who had orchestrated this downfall and who had made such an effort to help Y/N.

It was all because of Bucky.

He had chosen an investigation team to find out, just as he had predicted. And the culprit was none other than Nicky herself.

Instead of resorting to public humiliation, Bucky had chosen a different path—blackmail. He understood the power dynamics at play, knowing that hitting Nicky where it hurt the most—her privileged lifestyle and her father's reputation—would be the most effective form of punishment.

Nicky had always been a spoiled princess, shielded from the consequences of her actions by her doting father. But now, with her pillars of support crumbling around her, she was left vulnerable and exposed.

Bucky remained at the university, orchestrating events from behind the scenes. He calculated his moves carefully, knowing that Nicky's downfall would have far-reaching consequences.

As Nicky's world began to crumble, Bucky couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Justice had been served, and he had played a crucial role in ensuring that the truth came to light.

Karma has hit her like a ton of bricks.

🏈

After the aftermath, you resumed attending classes like usual. However, you couldn't help but notice Lloyd's somber demeanor as he walked through the halls like a mere shadow of his former self. It tugged at your heartstrings, prompting you to take action.

A few days later, as you and Bucky walked side by side, you unexpectedly crossed paths with Lloyd. This time, there was a subtle shift in his demeanor. As he drew closer, he whispered a heartfelt "Thank you."

A small smile graced your lips in response.

The reason behind Lloyd's gratitude stemmed from your intervention. You had reached out to your father, pleading for Lloyd to be given a second chance. Lloyd received an offer from another team.

You understood that everyone makes mistakes, especially in their youth, and you couldn't bear to see Lloyd lose his passion and purpose.

Having grown up alongside Lloyd, you knew that football was more than just a game to him—it was his life and his dreams. If it were taken away from him, he would be left adrift, without direction or purpose.

So, you did what you could to help him reclaim his footing and pursue his aspirations once more.

You couldn't bear the thought of being the one to crush his dreams, not after everything you and he had been through together.

It was the least you could do to offer him this final gift, a chance to reignite the fire within him and pursue his aspirations once more.

🎓

As time passed, graduation day finally arrived. The campus buzzed with excitement as every student donned their caps, gowns, and proudly held their diplomas.

Amidst the sea of graduates, you watched with pride as your boyfriend, Bucky, took the stage as the valedictorian to deliver his speech.

It was a moment of triumph, made even sweeter by the journey you both had taken together. Bucky's patience and unwavering support had finally won you over, and he now held a special place in your heart as your boyfriend.

Turning around, you spotted your parents sitting together in the crowd. Despite the awkwardness that lingered between them, you were grateful that they managed to put aside their differences for this important day.

Your gaze then shifted to Lloyd, who had undergone a noticeable transformation. Gone was his once-smug attitude, replaced by a newfound humility and maturity.

Though you only caught glimpses of him from afar, you couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for his growth, silently wishing him the best in his future endeavors.

And as for Nicky, rumors circulated that she was stuck in another country, working hard to find her way back home. While her fate remained uncertain, you couldn't help but hope that she would find redemption and a path forward.

As the ceremony drew close, you couldn't help but reflect on the tumultuous journey that had led you to this momentous day. From the heartbreak of discovering your first love's betrayal to the humiliation inflicted by his other girl, it had been a path fraught with pain and challenges.

Yet, amidst the darkness, there were glimmers of light—your father's unwavering support and the gentle presence of your new boyfriend, who was a beacon of sweetness and kindness in your life, like an angel sent from above.

Despite the trials and tribulations, you felt a sense of optimism. With the scars of the past serving as reminders of your strength and resilience, you looked towards the future with hope and determination.

Each step forward was a testament to your courage and resilience, and you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them head-on, guided by the love and support surrounding you.

-end-

Thank you for everyone who reading this stories🩷💙🩷

@bagoffeelings

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Author Note:

Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account. Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating. Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes au #james bucky buchanan barnes #buckybarnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes fandom #sebastian stan character #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x f!reader #college au

[the-iceni-bitch]

Ok Nat. You’ve shared their dick sizes (I’m visibly drooling) but now I need to know what their favorite kinks are, besides sharing reader of course. I have an idea in my mind, but I’d like to pick your brain, because I know how filthy you can be (and I love that)!

Oh shit, Bella!!! I’m gonna put this under a cut because it’s gonna get nasty. Also, all of their kinks line up to the different nicknames they have for you, like a little extra treat!

Lloyd - possession and marking: cum marking, biting, handprints, bruises, a pretty little collar with his name on it, a tattoo on your thigh, eventually knocking you up, it’s why he calls you pet

Ari - dumbification, giving you so many orgasms you can’t even keep your mouth closed because you’re your so fucking stupid, his nickname for you is dummy for a reason

Curtis - well, he pretty much just calls you cumrag or cumdump so surprise, the man loves degradation. We’re talking both physical and with his words, he is sooooooo mean

Ransom - always calls you their bitch, but whether it’s pretty bitch or stupid bitch depends on how annoyed you’ve managed to make him. So there’s a tie for him between pet play and spanking.

August - he loves how sad you get when he calls you a whore so his big one is dacryphylia but he also loves choking, either with his hand or his thick cock.

Nick - the only one who doesn’t have a nickname for you but will literally just call you “you” when he wants something, objectification and somnophilia, because he doesn’t give a single fuck about you except for his own needs.

Hal - kinda sweet but he does call you pretty girl, usually while he has your fucked out holes spread all the way open with his fingers so he can get a good shot of them. He’s the resident photographer so he loves taking dirty pics and videos, he’s such an exhibitionist.

Steve and Bucky - they call you doll, sometimes fuckdoll, but most of the time they’re very nice to you even when you want them to stop splitting you in half. Double penetration and begging

Ask me anything about All of that Ultraviolence

#natalie answers #love my mutuals #all of that ultraviolence #rugby au #college au #lloyd hansen #ari levinson #curtis everett #august walker #ransom drysdale #nick fowler #hal carter #steve rogers #bucky barnes #asks are always open

[xcaptain-winterx]

Boobs

dad!Lloyd Hansen x sunshine!reader

summary: Lloyd and his son don’t like to share

warnings: fluff, Lloyd, boobs, breastfeeding

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

Main Masterlist Daddy Sociopath Masterlist

It’s dark outside as Lloyd walks through the front door of the Hansen castle. He’s been away since the morning, hunting down a drug dealer. He couldn’t even kiss you good morning because he left at 4am and didn’t want to wake you up. Your son is now three months old and is waking you two up every night because he’s hungry or lonely.

Lloyd really doesn’t understand how LJ can be that small when he eats that much. When LJ got the private doctor’s check up, they told you that he’s a bit small for his age. The doctor assured you two, though, that some kids just are smaller and LJ also came earlier than expected. Lloyd can still remember how small LJ was when he was born.

He may be small, but he got a strong set of lungs that he likes to use around Lloyd, mostly. The men Lloyd tortures in the basements hear the crying of the small Hansen.

Luckily, Sunshine is there to help. Lloyd knows he could never handle LJ alone. First, because LJ is a mama boy and second, because he doesn’t have boobs.

God, he loves your boobs, too.

He never thought your breast could get any more perfect, but he could have never imagined how beautiful they would get once you got pregnant. Not only that, but he literally became obsessed when your breast started to fill and he first ever got a taste of you.

The first time he tasted you, which was not your cum, you two were having some passionate sex and as Lloyd kissed your chest, he also kissed your breast. At some point, he sucked on your nipple and his mouth immediately filled with your soft milk. You were so embarrassed that Lloyd had to pull out and tell you that you didn’t need to be embarrassed about that.

Lloyd opens the door to the master bedroom, but you are not there. The bed doesn’t look freshly made, meaning that you apparently got woken up by something or rather someone.

“Oh, Junior, keeping your mom up again?” Lloyd says to himself as he makes his way to LJ’s nursery. He can see the soft glow of the lamp from under the door illuminating the dark hallway. Lloyd carefully opens the door and the sight that greets him melts his heart.

You are sitting in the rocking chair, nursing your sweet boy, while humming a soft lullaby. He can see your eye bags and messy hair, which to him makes you look even more beautiful. His college self would have thrown up if he knew he was going to be a father, but now, this is all he wants.

“Hey, Sunshine” Lloyds says quietly. You look up at him with a soft but tired smile, being awake since 2am because LJ keeps screaming his lungs out for you.

“Hey, Moonlight” you answer, tilting your head titling, as he walks towards you. “You are late”.

“I know. My work wasn’t really cooperative” he says and kisses your forehead. Your attention goes back to LJ as he grabs your finger. Lloyd follows and looks down at his son. “Hello to you too, my hungry little boy. Been keeping your mom up the whole night, haven’t you?”.

LJ pulls your finger closer at that, like he understands what Lloyd is saying, making him chuckle. His eyes slowly start to close as he continues to suck on your nipple.

Lloyd looks at you as his son starts to fall asleep.

“Was he a lot of trouble tonight?” he asks seriously, kneeling next to the chair.

“Define trouble”.

Lloyd chuckles, “Did he wake you up a lot of times? Was he just hungry, in need of a diaper change or did he just want mama?”.

“Two times. After the second time I just stayed awake because he wanted the full care package” you say caressing your son’s cheek. Even though he’s been eating, you are still full, which makes your breast hurt.

Lloyd notices how you keep changing your position in the chair while making sure LJ doesn’t stir. A grin flashes on Lloyd’s face.

“You know, when LJ is done and asleep, I could help you. I haven’t had a taste from your milk in a long time” he whispers, kissing your neck. You both know, he had them two weeks ago. “Come on, they taste so-“.

Before he can finish, LJ screams at the top of his lungs, a bit of milk still on his lips. His hand pulling your shirt closer. Lloyd rolls his eyes before looking at you.

“You see that, Sunshine?! He is stealing you away from me and now your boobs” he looks down at his son, “they were mine before you were here. I called dibs back then”.

Like LJ understands, he screams louder and kicks his legs, hitting his dad, making him hiss.

“See! LJ just kicked me, Sunshine” Lloyd says, rubbing his arm. While Lloyd complains, LJ starts screaming louder.

“Ok both of you calm down” you say, tucking your breast back in your sport bra and putting LJ on your chest, rubbing his back. “Lloyd, LJ is a baby. Because of him I produce what you fancy so much”.

“But-“.

“No, Lloyd. He calls dibs on them when he’s hungry, ok?”.

“Sunshi-“ Lloyd tries again.

“You can have them when LJ is not needing them”.

“But I-“.

“Either that or no boobs for you, Mr Hansen” you say. Lloyd looks like a kicked puppy. It doesn’t make it any better that he knows that his infant son is probably smiling right now.

Eventually, Lloyd nods in defeat and lays his head on your lap. A smile breaks out on your face as a pouty Lloyd is now hiding his face in your lap. You comb your fingers through his short hair, which slightly lifts Lloyd’s mood.

Sharing her boobs, or to be more correct, his Sunshine, was never something Lloyd had planned, but now he needs to.

It could be worse, though.

Guess he will just have to share your boobs.

#chris evans #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x y/n #daddy sociopath #daddy sociopath AU #dad!lloyd hansen #dad!lloyd hansen x reader #dad!lloyd hansen x sunshine!reader #dad!lloyd #xcaptain winterx #the gray man #the gray man lloyd

[bigtreefest]

I dare you to write a piece using a character that you want to, but have never had a chance to write for before. With the sentence "Well that was a surprise."

Saint or Sinner?

College! Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Word Count: 1,331

A/N: Amber!!! Thank you for tickling my brain with this dare! I honestly wanted to do Andy so badly, but this quote was screaming Lloyd to me and I couldn’t resist. To be completely honest, I had no intention of writing him, but my fingers tip-tapped away and I lost all control. I might’ve been possessed.

I also always plan on writing a Drabble, and then it ends up being as long as one of my fic chapters, but anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Smut (oral, m receiving), use of pet names, sociopathic tendencies, mean Lloyd, a twist?

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Ever since you were old enough date, you’ve been happily independent. You grew up in a small town, surrounded by blue collar families, including most of the members of your own.

You’d always had a keen ability to fit in anywhere, which you attribute to your upbringing. Your mom worked a corporate job, while your dad spent all day in a mechanic shop.

You were well off, but not raised like it, and you’d never judge those who had less than you, even though that’s what a lot of people expected.

Once you graduated high school, you got into Harvard where you met Lloyd. Lloyd was someone who was good at keeping his distance. You noticed it at first when you invited him to join a study group you had started with some other members of your cohort.

You received a terse “No thanks, Pumpkin,” punctuated with a curt nod and a wink, before he went to hang out with his other friends and his team.

You had made multiple attempts to include him in group activities, or engage in conversation when you could nab a seat next to him in class, but after some time, you stopped seeing him altogether. You could tell he was avoiding you and the study group you had become closer with. You’d probably actually call them your friends, becoming just as close as you were to some people back home. They picked up on the same things too, seeing that you were humble, and carried yourself in such a proper manner, earning you the nickname “the Saint.”

When word of that got around to Lloyd, he rolled his eyes. You were the complete opposite of him. Kind, welcoming, calculated, while he was cold, unpredictable, sociopathic. He couldn’t stand how successful you were, too. Professors and students alike constantly praised you, more than willing to help you in any way through your academic journey and career beyond. Where he schmoozed, you gracefully existed and got just as far.

You were perfect in everyone’s eyes, including his own, which is what infuriated him. There had to be a weak spot, somewhere where your surface would crack, and he had initially tried to find it by turning you down all those times, but it was unsuccessful.

None of the manipulation tactics he had worked so hard on perfecting for so long made you budge, either. He’d pluck out a random friend from your group to join his. Nothing. He’d sabotage your flash drive for your presentation, you’d have a backup in your email, ready to go. After you’d gone, you wished him luck and no technical difficulties like you had, with a giggle! He was enraged.

After being at the top of your class, the two of you were selected to go to a conference in DC. It was hardly supervised by your professor who had booked two rooms for you next to each other, getting himself a suite a few floors above.

You knocked on Lloyd’s door in the late afternoon, the day before your presentation. He opened it just enough to peek his head through.

“What do you want?”

You sighed with your signature smile on your face. “Did you want to go over everything one more time before dinner?”

He looked you up and down, face as stern as it ever was when he was dealing with you. “Not really, Sunshine.” He slammed the door in your face.

What Lloyd didn’t know was that all his little tactics were really chipping away at you. All you wanted was to spend time with him, to get close. You couldn’t help it. You’d be lying if you said it was in your usual friendship way, too.

No, you wanted more. There was something about how aloof he was that drew you in. You were obsessed and not willing to give up until you got what you wanted, what you deserved.

His little tendencies weren’t upsetting because he was rude, they were upsetting because they were keeping you away from what your body and the deep, dark recesses of your mind were screaming for.

The door slamming in your face was the last straw. Lloyd wouldn’t get away with this any longer. You could see what he was trying to do, and if you had any say, you’d make sure it failed. You were going to be the winner of the little mind game he was playing.

To be honest, by this point, Lloyd had given up, thinking you’d never break. You were just too sweet, a true Saint. Treating you like this had just become habit, which is why he was almost confused when he heard muttering on the other side of his door.

You had taken the magnetic clip out of your hair and maneuvered it against the hotel key card reader until it unlocked. The door flew open and your eyes landed on Lloyd, stomping towards him and pinning him with his back against the nearest wall.

He looked down at you, face unreadable beside his eyes being slightly wider than usual.

“Why are you being like this!? What did I do!?” You gritted out, your tone threatening.

Lloyd didn’t say anything, only the corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

“Tell. Me.” You slammed your hands against the wall, arms framing his head as you looked up into his eyes, your stomach pressed against his cock that was growing rock hard.

“Am I going to have to pull it out of you? Suck it out of you, myself?” Lloyd found himself at a loss for words for once. All he could do was part his lips slightly and give a small nod like he always did.

You began to unbuckle the belt of his ridiculously expensive pants, shoving them down just enough that you could see the hard-on pressing against his boxer briefs.

“Huh? Is that what you want? That what you need, Pumpkin?” You spat back at him, mocking his previous words.

His brain was finally beginning to catch up with the situation as he nodded down to you and you got on your knees.

“Yeah, do it. I know you want to. Suck me off.”

You didn’t need much more prompting, fueled by rage and control. You pulled down his underwear, his dick springing free.

You gave him no time to prepare, immediately licking from the base of his length to the tip before fully taking him into your mouth. Your mouth was stretching to accommodate his girth, but it was nothing for you in the lust of the moment. You set a vigorous pace, Lloyd’s head thrown back against the wall as he moaned loudly.

He pulled his head forward as his abs tensed, already close with the debauchery of the situation. He tangled his ringed fingers in your hair, helping to guide you along his length.

“That’s it. Keep going. Not such a Saint, are you?”

You hummed against his length in response, saliva dripping down your chin and his balls that you were lightly tugging in you hand. The other hand had its nails dug into his thigh, causing a slight sting that heightened the pleasure for Lloyd.

Before he knew it, he was coming down your throat. You pulled away as you swallowed his salty release, looking up at him and wiping off your face before standing up.

You caught his gaze again and Lloyd looked at you with bewilderment mixed with his post-orgasmic haze.

“Well that was a surprise.” He said between heavy breaths, pulling up his underwear and pants, buckling his belt again. Oh, he had no idea the tactics you had in store for him.

Your hands pressed against his abs in his knitted shirt. One stayed there as the other traced up his firm pec, past his collar and found purchase around his neck, lightly squeezing.

“So are you finally going to tell me what’s going on in the head behind that ridiculous mustache?”

Bonus A/N: Um… I don’t really know what happened. I think I blacked out.

#ST’s 100 follower truth or dare game #100 follower truth or dare game #truth or dare #dare #lloyd Hansen #lloyd Hansen x reader #lloyd Hansen x you #lloyd hansen smut #the gray man #Chris Evans #st answers

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You stand behind the counter, ready to serve the next customer that comes through the door. If you thought the rush was bad, the lulls are worse. The time drags by as the clock seems to taunt you. You sigh again as you hear Bre clattering around in the back room. You’d rather be back there folding up empty boxes and scouring trays.

You yawn and waver on your feet. The small local cafe doesn’t have the consistent traffic of the franchised kiosk just down the block but there are still hectic rushes. The mornings just after nine, then at noon when the office workers run out for a refresh espresso or a lunchtime sweet, but the afternoons usually deliver no more than the errant college student on their laptop or a few friends in between visits to boutiques.

The door opens and you glance over at the man who walks through the door. He strikes you as out-of-place as he struts across the cafe, hitting a table with his thigh, and sneering at it as if it insulted his mother. He’s tall with broad shoulders, and his hair is slicked back while the sides of his head are buzzed. He wears a black turtle neck under and open jacket and a pair of matching slacks that show off his ankles. His loafers are a rippling grey and black snakeskin print with a shining silver buckle.

You grip the sides of the till as he approaches but he doesn’t look at you. You stare, a little put off by his lack of acknowledgement as he peers up at the menu. He steps forward, tapping his fingers on the counter as he blows out between his lips. A golden signet ring flashes on his pinkie. You’re still not sure he’s in the right place.

“Hello, sir, can I get you--”

“Shh,” he hisses and holds up his finger. You snap your mouth shut and blink. He squints at the menu. He hums, clucking as he gives a thoughtful look to the hand-painted letters. Alright?

You wiggle your foot impatiently, biting your tongue. You’re not an inherently rude person but some customers make you wish you were. You watch him and he finally lowers his chin.

“Oat latte. Half blonde espresso, half regular, with the toffee nut syrup and a sprinkle of cinnamon.”

You nod as you punch in his order. It’s quite the drink. Sometimes you think people just pile on to see how far they can push service workers. They can’t just have a simple drink. Some even request the temperature to the digit.

“Alright, got it, it’s fifty cents for the syrup, is that okay?”

“Fifty cents?” He echoes haughtily, “no, that’s not okay.”

“Um, okay, well, it’s uh, on the menu,” you crane to look behind you, “fifty cents for a flavour shot, twenty-five for whipped cream.”

“I didn’t ask about goddamn whipped cream. They don't charge me here, doll. Get me the goddamn drink,” he demands.

You reel. Admittedly, you’re new. You’re learning but your first lesson was simple; customers are awful.

“I can just take the syrup off, I guess,” you hit the x and the whole order disappears.

“Didn’t you hear me? No charge, honey. It’s on the house.”

You purse your lips and look at him. You raise a brow. Alright, this is a new one.

“Um, if you’d just hold on, I think... uh, I should ask--”

“Yeah, you better fucking ask,” he sneers as swipes at a stack of paper cups and sends them flying. You flinch out of the way and spin to burst through the door to the kitchen.

“Uh, Bre,” you say, “there’s a really angry dude out there and he wants a free latte so uh, what do I do about that?”

She looks over at you as she puts a tray of cookies on a cooling rack. She frowns and her forehead stitches. She pulls of her oven mitt and checks her fitbit.

“Shit, it’s Thursday,” she mutters as if it’s the end of time.

“Yeah, it is, so uh--”

She waves away your words with the mitt and tosses both on the counter as she hurries past you. Confused, you turn to follow her through the swinging door. You stay behind her as she goes to the till.

“Mr. Hansen, so lovely to see you, what were we getting today?” She chimes, more lively than you’ve ever heard you. At any other time, she’s dulcet, almost monotone, completely over the cafe lifestyle.

He scoffs and his eyes drift from her to you. He pokes his tongue into his cheek, “oat, toffee nut, half blond, half regular, cinnamon on top,” he notes each element tersely, “and how about you teach this one some goddamn manners.”

He glares at you and you give a wide-eyed look. You shrug at Bre as she glances over at you. She shakes her head subtly. You take a step back.

You grab a cup and she quickly takes it out of your hands, “I got it, stay out of the way.”

You put your hands up and back away. You don’t know what you did wrong. Who is this man? He smirks and hovers on the other side of the counter as he crosses his arms over his puffed chest. Bre brews a fresh espresso and steams the oat milk.

“I’m waiting, sweet lips,” he cups a hand to his ear, his other arm still over his chest.

You look back and forth.

“Apologise,” he demands.

Bre clears her throat and you glance over, your mouth falling open dumbly.

“Oh, uh,” you face the man again, “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t know--”

“Well, now you fucking do,” he sneers as Bre places a cup down before him and a paper bag.

“Mr. Hansen, there’s a cinnamon bun for you too. We just took em out of the oven.”

“You’re such a dear, Bre Bear,” he cooes, sending you a venomous snarl.

You cringe as he spins and strides out with his fare. You watch after him, still thoroughly perplexed. Bre wipes the counter with a cloth.

“The next time he comes in, give him whatever he wants,” she says quietly.

“Oh, I didn’t... who is he?” You garble.

“Better you don’t know. Just think of him as the boss,” she sends you a desperate look, her eyes gleaming, “if you know what’s good for you, you’ll smile and listen.”

She brushes you with her shoulder as she goes back into the kitchen. You furrow your brow and glance towards the door. The man’s just outside the windowed walls, watching you. He winks before he disappears beyond the next facade

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #series #drabble #the man #mob!au #au

[xoxobuckybarnes]

February 2024 Stucky Fics

Completed

Keystrokes and Music Notes (Rated: M, Words: 32K) by goblininawig / @goblininawig

Summary: Bucky is paying Steve for help tracking down his stalker. Nothing happens until something happens: Steve falls in love.

Mr. Brick Wall & Mr. Overshare (Rated: T, Words: 7K) by LilyElk13

Summary: Based on the Tumblr post that's like "half of college professors are like 'you can know nothing about me except my name' and the other half are like 'and that's why my wife left me! anyway what's up with y'all'" and the response "There were two professors like this in my department and I was one of like 20 people who was taught by both of them so there was a very small gang of us who knew that Professor Brick Wall and Professor Overshare were married with two kids." except in this it's high school teachers instead of college :)

A Company Man (Rated: E, Words: 75K) by mambo / @whtaft

Summary: It’s the way that Bucky smiles at Steve from across his desk. No, it’s the way that Bucky’s hand brushes Steve’s as they stand side by side in an elevator not crowded enough to justify their closeness. Or maybe it’s the whispered conversations every Saturday night, the way Bucky saves Steve’s number under a different name in his phone. No matter what it is, the truth is the same: Steve Rogers is in love with Bucky Barnes, a married man.

Rock You Like a Hurricane (Rated: E, Words: 112K) by CelticCross

Summary: Bucky Barnes is an author, he's written many books in his Winter Soldier series, starring Lloyd Hansen and Nick Fowler. He hasn't written a word worth writing in the past three months and his agent, Sam Wilson, forces him to take a break. Sam books him a rental beach house in a place called Plum Cove in Mass for three months, hoping to break him out of his writer's block. The owner, Steve Rogers, retired Plum Cove Police Captain, landlord and part time surfer is surprised to get such a lengthy off season booking but takes it anyway. He doesn't expect to spend a lot of time with the person renting his house, but then he wasn't expecting the storm to be that fierce.

Closing Time (Rated: M, Words: 10K) by RecoveringTheSatellites / @thisonesatellite & art by maichan /@maichan808

Summary: Steve works in a Brooklyn dive bar. A tall, guarded guy comes in to drink at regular intervals. He always sits in the back corner. Steve leaves him alone. He looks like a guy who deserves some peace and quiet. He does find out the stranger's name is Bucky. Finds out what he likes to drink. And little by little, conversation happens. Connection happens. Until one day a cock-flock of dudebros comes in (i made up cock-flock, but really, is that not their collective term) and the heckling goes up to eleven once they’re good and drunk. Bucky gets asked to take it outside. Steve will have none of that, thankyouverymuch. . A tale of love and hope in unlikely places, sprinkled with a bit of PTSD, and the occasional sarcastic quip.

Use Your Agency (Rated: E, Words: 15K) by romanticalgirl

Summary: Bucky is given the assignment (punishment) of being the agent whose job it is to integrate the newly-thawed Captain America into life in a new century. Only maybe it's not so bad. Because Bucky ends up dealing with Steve Rogers, who is nothing like the Captain America in Bucky's history books. From coming out of the ice through AoU.

Stay with Me (Rated: E, Words: 79K) by maikurosaki / @allegra-dreams

Summary: When Bucky Barnes accompanies his family to a ceremony dedicated to George Barnes' activity, he expects free food and drinks, the occasional boring speech, and watching his dad blush furiously as he gets to finally meet his childhood hero. What he doesn't expect is saving Captain America's life and getting shot in the process. What follows is a slow road to recovery, eating hospital food (still disgusting), making new friends (Avengers!!! Seriously, the Avengers!) and pining over Captain America (he won't comment on that). It sounds simple, but it really isn’t!

The Steadfast Soldier (Rated: E, Words: 12K) by danielosbourne

Summary: Bucky returns to Brooklyn to help his sister navigate a family crisis.

twelve twenty-five (Rated: E, Words: 43K) by burning_brighter / @burnin-brighter

Summary: “I have to say,” Winifred says, a mug of cocoa in her hands. “When you say you were bringing someone home, I thought you meant you were bringing a boyfriend. But I’m glad you brought Steve.” “Who says I’m not?” Bucky teases, laughing when Steve lets out an exasperated groan. “You two finally got your respective head out of your respective ass?” asks George, looking at Steve and Bucky intently. “No,” Steve says pointedly, “Bucky just thinks he’s so funny.” - Ever since they met, everyone assumed it was just a matter of time before Steve and Bucky became a thing. Ten years later and it has yet to happen. But when Bucky invites Steve to spend the holidays with him and his family in upstate New York, things start to change.

WIP

Every Me and Every You (Rated: M, Current Words: 38K) by deadto27 / @deadto27

Summary: Bucky Barnes is doing his best. He’s getting by after the blip, after Sam became Captain America, after Steve…well, it’s best he doesn’t think about that. The point is, his life is different now, and he’s trying his best. He just wishes the hollow feeling in his chest would go away.—–Bucky gets blinded by a bright light as the tear seems to implode in on itself and there’s an odd little jolt as the pulling stops, and then Bucky’s blinking, trying to get his vision right again as he loosens his grip on America.“You okay?” he checks, still squinting. He’s probably not blind, he thinks. It just feels like it right now.“I’m okay,” America tells him and he sees her nod shakily as his vision starts to clear, and he carefully lets go of her, seeing that she can support herself, hands pressing onto the floor next to her.“Uh…I don’t think I am,” says another voice, and Bucky turns his head so fast he might give himself whiplash. Because he knows that voice. He knows that voice better than any other voice on the planet and he’s missed that voice, so, so much.

Lost Vocabularies that Might Express (The Memory of These Broken Impressions) (Rated: E, Current Words: 103K) by dorian_burberrycanary / @burberrycanary

Summary: The worst of times, like the best, are always passing away. How’s that for some consolation on the road? A post-The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Stucky fix-it as part of the all-American road trip, detours included.

#Stucky #Steve and Bucky #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #fanfic #XOXOBUCKYBARNES' Stucky Fic Reading List #february reading list