#dad!lloyd hansen x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dindjiarin · 2 years

Text

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

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

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

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

Beginning / Ending / Prequel

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

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

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

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

IIII

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

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

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

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

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

Where's Six?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“MapQuest for 007,” he explains without explaining.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

IIIII

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

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

“Guess who,” he raises his eyebrows conspiratorially.

“No,” you plead. "No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A little birdy told you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” You ask, perplexed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me see your hands.”

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

IIIIII

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shower or bath?” He asks.

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

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

“Shower.”

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

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

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

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

“They’re shallow. They’ll heal.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you sad?” You ask bluntly.

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

You raise your eyebrows and frown at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I always want you, Court.”

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

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

#sierra six #the gray man #the gray man fanfic #court gentry #courtland gentry #my fics #smut #fluff #ryan gosling #lloyd hansen #chris evans #sierra six x reader #court gentry x reader #the gray man fanfiction #personal #I have a deformed finger and my dad makes that manicure joke all the time fyi #the gray man 2022 #sierra six x you

1K notes · View notes

onsunnyside · 2 years

Note

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

❤️‍🔥 𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐱 𝐇𝐢𝐦 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Not the whore in me thinking about:

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

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

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

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

#tw stepcest #icfh party #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen fanfic #lloys hansen x reader #boyfriend's dad!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen drabble #sonny drabbles #sonnysconcepts

831 notes · View notes

gracescor3 · 5 months

Text

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

The Umbrella academy

Diego Hargreeves

Klaus Hargreeves

Viktor Hargreeves (Platonic)

Five Hargreeves (NO SMUT)

Klaus x Dave

Alison Hargreeves (Platonic)

Ben Hargreeves (Any season)

Marvel

Tony Stark’s daughter x Character

Bucky Barnes

Steve Rogers

Loki Laufeyson

Thor Odinson (Platonic)

Loki x Mobius (No smut)

Stucky

Sam Wilson (Platonic)

Rebelde (Translated in English)

Andi Agosti

Rebelde x you

Other Characters I write for

Micheal Bryce (Ryan Reynolds)

Nolan Booth (Ryan Reynolds)

Adult!Adam Reed (Ryan Reynolds)

Courtland Gentry!Six (Ryan Gosling)

Lloyd Hansen (Chris Evans)

Steve Kemp (Sebastian Stan)

Jack Sparrow (Johnny depp) (NO SMUT)

Ledger!Joker (Heath Ledger)

AUs I write for (So far)

Mafia!Stucky

Dark!Stucky

SD/SDBF!Stucky

SDBF!Bucky

Secret Relationship!Any character listed

Secret admire!Any character listed

Avengers!Bucky/Steve

Tattoo Artist!Bucky/Steve

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

My request are open!

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

21 notes · View notes

abbatoirablaze · 2 years

Text

Big Bad Wolf, Lloyd Hansen

Word Count: 1.5k

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

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

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

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

“Mr. Hansen…”

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

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

“It’s different.” He said simply.

“It’s not, Mr. Hansen.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frowned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In some way or another their wives had left.

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

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

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

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

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

But none of that mattered.

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

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

“God yes!”

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

“Lloyd.”

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

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

“Lloyd.”

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

Lloyd had been married.

Just as every other man on your block was.

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

#lloyd hansen x reader #soft lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #the gray man #gray man #chris evans characters #dads best friend

270 notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 2 months

Text

TOL - Like a virgin (1) - Bucky Barnes

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

Pairing: DBF!Bucky Barnes x Virgin!Reader

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

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

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

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

Words: 3,9 k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not until you get rid of that mustache!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah…I’m good…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #mobster!bucky barnes x reader #smut #virgin reader #bucky barnes x female reader #dbf!bucky barnes #16.666 followers requests #TOL - Like a virgin (Bucky Barnes)

680 notes · View notes

evansbby · 2 years

Text

➳❥ 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark!Lloyd Hansen x innocent!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

This man was definitely the face of evil.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You swallow harshly, “N-Not scared!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eyes wide as saucers, you shake your head.

“I kill them.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

“Ow– Yes! Yes, you did!” You cry out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“O-Okay, daddy.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Daddy, why is it so hard?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So… So big, daddy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is your pain getting better, daddy?”

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

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

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

“Ah– daddy, that feels funny!”

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

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

“Oh, daddy! D-Do that again, maybe?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Decisions, decisions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hurts!” You cry, “Hurts so bad!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Swallow it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#lloyd hansen #Lloyd hansen x reader #chris evans #chris evans x reader #the gray man #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #chris evans smut #dark lloyd hansen

9K notes · View notes

xcaptain-winterx · 4 months

Text

Apricity

dad!Lloyd Hansen x sunshine!reader

summary: Lloyd finds himself getting jealous once he realizes what he’s feeling

warnings: fluff, talk of NSFW 18+, Lloyd, possessiveness, rape, drugs, manipulation, obsessive behavior, denial, acceptance

a/n: English is not my first language, meaning you will probably find a lot of misspelling etc.. This is when they both were in Harvard, so way before having LJ. This is the first time we get to see a bit more of Sunshines side of the story

Main Masterlist Daddy Sociopath Masterlist

The air is cold outside, freezing Lloyd’s breath as he walks across the campus. The ground is covered in thick snow, but luckily enough people already walked through it, so it’s pretty much already stamped away. Otherwise, Lloyd would have chosen another way.

Lloyd is making his way to his next class while side eyeing the other students who are already in the Christmas spirit. It’s the first of the December and they are already wearing Christmas sweaters and are talking about how they are so excited to see their families.

He hates the holidays. Blame it on his childhood, but singing song together, going to church and faking happiness when you get some shit from your parents that you didn’t want for Christmas isn’t a thing he likes.

He hates it even more because it’s during winter and he despises that season. Like right now, he’s freezing his ass off. He would like to wear a nice polo shirt, but he can’t. He’s ok with Autumn because it isn’t that cold there yet. Lloyd gets to wear a nice sweater and a thin jacket and that’s it. During winter, he would have to wear the thickest jacket possible, which would make him look like a fucking marshmallow.

He rather freeze than look like a fucking sugar bomb.

“Hey, Moonlight”

Lloyd turns his head to see that you are walking towards him with a smile on your face. You look like a ray of sunshine as you walk towards him. The sun is shining behind you, making you look like an angel send from heaven just for him. He swears his knees almost give in as you then smile at him.

“Hello, there Sunshine” he says, facing you with his fuckboy smile. Lloyd takes in your scent as you stand in front of. If he could describe what heaven probably smells like, he would say it’s you. He quickly breaks out of his trance, trying to act unfazed by your presence. “What brings you here?”.

There was a time where Lloyd was better at talking to girls.

Though he never had a crush on-

“Can’t I just say hi to my favorite law student?” you ask, giving him a teasing smile. Lloyd continues his walk with you walking next to him, while trying to hide his blush.

“Aww I’m your favorite” he teases back.

“Of course. After all, you spend time with me in the library”.

Lloyd thinks back to the day. He thinks a lot about that day actually, and how much he hates Carmichael for showing up at the library.

“No no no, I got forced to spend time with you. The weather decided to be a bitch” he explains.

“Oh, you poor boy” you laugh at his answer, making him chuckle too.

“I’m not a boy, Sunshine. I’m a man. My dick is the living proof of that” he states, pointing towards his crotch. He turns his head towards you as you interrupt in laughter, throwing your head back. Lloyd ignores everything around the both of you and just watches you being happy.

His Sunshine

“Well, for all I know, you could be lying” you respond with a teasing raised brow.

Lloyd bites his lip, thinking of what your reaction would be of seeing his dick. Of seeing him naked in all his glory. He imagines how he would show you. At another frat party? In the football locker room? In your bedroom? In his bedroom? The options are endless, but the thought of him naked in your or his bedroom does something to him. You would be his first to see his room. He never has a girl in his room because he doesn’t want some dirty ass whore liquids on his experience bedsheets. Lloyd has sex with them on his friend’s beds.

He would break this rule for you, though. He would make so many exceptions for you.

Lloyd imagines what you would think when you see him naked. Would you be impressed or perhaps even turned on?

You wouldn’t be disappointed in what you would see. Definitely not. Lloyd knows that he’s massive, so he shouldn’t worry what you would think.

He does, though.

What if you think he’s….small?

What if you’ve seen bigger and better?

Lloyd just keeps telling himself that this wouldn’t happen. All he knows, you could still be a virgin by the way you act and dress. Perhaps you are. Perhaps you never had a boyfriend or someone you trusted enough to take your virginity. Perhaps you need a strong man to take care of you.

Lloyd’s pants start tightening at the thought of being the one who takes your virginity. To be the one to slowly break your walls and lead you through the process of pain and pleasure until you are a mess under him, begging for more. The thought of being the first to touch you, feel you, bring you to your high is making him feel something he never felt before. He knows he’s good at what he does, so he knows he would give you the best experience, how no one else ever could.

The more Lloyd’s mind wanders around this, the more he thinks about you, specifically you, naked.

He imagines what your curves look like under your clothes. How your boobs must feel in his hand. How your stretch marks decorate your soft skin, like an expensive necklace. Where your skin is covered in beauty marks. How your pussy looks, but not in a bad way. He doesn’t mean that your pussy could look unpleasant, he just wants to know what beauty lays under your panties. Lloyd wants to know all the ways he needs to touch you to make you a crying mess.

He imagines how you must look like touching you yourself at night with your little fingers, trying to bring yourself to your release. How you desperately try to give yourself the pleasure no one else is giving you. The sounds you make while you are doing it. Are you quiet? Are you loud? Do you moan or let out soft gasps or murmurs? Do you sometimes hump your pillow or even ride it? What are the things that turn you on?

Lloyd has no clue what could turn you on. Perhaps older men who know what they are doing or guys with the same interest who share the same passion about the Vincent ven Google guy. Just the thought of you liking anyone else than him, makes Lloyd’s blood boil.

“I wanted to congratulate you for winning against Yale yesterday” you say, breaking the silence that’s been going on for a minute now without Lloyd noticing. You reach into your bag and pull out a small container covered in small paint splashes. “Here, for your hard work”.

Lloyd quickly hides his growing boner behind his coat before he takes the container and looks at it, confused. He raises a brow as he studies the container. “What’s that?” he asks, even though his first instinct was to tease you about watching him play.

“A container”.

“No shit, Sherlock. I see that it’s a container” he says, putting on his jerk facade again. “I mean why”.

“As I said, you are my favorite law student and the only one who plays football too and is good at it”.

Lloyd almost blushes, but just almost.

“How many law students are your friends?” he asks, slowly opening the lid.

“Just one” you answer and watch him as he opens it. He stares at the content in the container before looking at you.

“Brownies?” he expected something….different. “I thought in there were condoms. I’m low on them”.

You roll your eyes at him. “Remember what we had when we first met?”

“Sexual tension” Lloyd answers without thinking. As he realizes what he said, he quickly looks up at you from the brownies, scared that you realized what you said, but to his luck, you just continue.

“We had some special brownies, so because of your win, I made you some” you say excitingly.

You noticed what Lloyd said and you are trying your best not to blush at what he said. Since that night where you just wanted to have some peace alone outside and didn’t expect a typical frat boy to join you, you spend every second remembering this event. You remember smelling his expensive cologne and his soft sweater against your arm. You remember how your face heat up when he leaned over you and the butterflies you felt when you looked into those blue eyes of his. Oh, his eyes. The eyes that have been haunting you ever since. You never seen such beautiful eyes. During the years you’ve painted hundreds of blue eyes, but never one’s like his. Since meeting Lloyd, you did more than just that one sketch of him. There are so many of him in your book, created whenever his face filled your mind to the brim. Whenever you felt the butterflies take over and your face heat up again.

You could say you have a small crush on him.

Hell, you didn’t even care that he ruined your favorite self made pastel purple cardigan.

Lloyd smiles as he sees that there are a dozen brownies in that small container of yours. He closes the lid before giving you a small smile. Lloyd thinks about what he’s going to say. He could say ‘thank you’ and take the chance to kiss your cheek.

Should he make a move?

“Where did you get them, Sunshine” he asks instead. He would never admit it, but he got scared.

You try not to let your smile fall at that. He’s allowed to ask that, but deep down you wished he would have thanked you or said that he likes it. “I got the weed from TJ and then started baking”.

“You buy the stuff from the Junior drug guy?”

“Yes, he’s nice and often sells me the stuff for only have the price” you say happily with a smile on your face. You like TJ.

Lloyd’s heart beams as he feels the warmth of your happiness. His face doesn’t show that though, because all he can think of is Thomas liking you.

“You should be careful, Sunshine. Thomas sold some of my friends some stuff that got them to the hospital. Oh, and he took advantage of some girls in which he gave them stuff that made them completely dazed. Once in that condition he lead them somewhere where he then…you know” Lloyd says sympathetically, giving you a pained look.

Of course he’s lying, but he can’t let you go near TJ again if that guy actually likes you. Lloyd knows that TJ never sells stuff for only have the price and that can only mean one thing.

“What?”

“Yeah, I know, but don’t worry, my friends and I gave him a good beating for that” Lloyd assures you, lying like the devil. “Please, don’t go near him again. Please, Sunshine”.

“I…I think that…ok” you say after some seconds.

“Now you could’ve picked a nicer container, you know. This one is not clean” Lloyd interrupts your thoughts of TJ and holds up the container.

“You don’t like the paint stains on my container?”

“That you gave ME” Lloyd throws back, pulling the container to his chest. You chuckle at how pouty he suddenly got.

“Oh come here, you big baby” you say and don’t give Lloyd a chance to talk back again as you take the container away from him.

“Sneaky, Sunshine” Lloyd murmurs as you manage to get the container from the football player. He’s normally faster than anyone else.

Lloyd watches you as you get out some pens from god knows where and start to draw something on the container. He tries to see what you are drawing, but a quick ‘don’t look’ from you makes him look away.

“Ok, here you go” you say after two minutes and give him the container back. Lloyd takes it and smiles at you. He loves how you do things extra for him.

His gaze wanders down, and his eyes immediately widen as he sees what you did. You expanded the paint splatters and made a sun and moon. Not only the sun and moon but also the sky to each one. The upper half is decorated with dark blue and purple lines. In the corner you have the moon and around it small stars. The lower half has orange and yellow lines. The sun is colored in a different yellow, making it stand out from the yellow lines. It doesn’t take Lloyd a second to realize that the lines are a reference to ven Googles Art Style.

“Wow” that’s the only thing that Lloyd manages to say. Everything you gave and did for him is more than anyone has ever done. You are his first. Maybe not his first in means of sex, but you are his first in true kindness.

“Do you like it?” you ask hopefully.

Lloyd’s expression is softer than ever before as he looks into your beautiful eyes.

“I like it…thank you, Sunshine” he says and reaches for your hand. He waits for you to give in and reach for his hand to which you do. Your pinkies lock together, like how they did in the library.

You smile when you hear Lloyd likes it. As he looks at you, he realizes that the sun could never shine as bright as you do. You don’t need the sun to shine.

“I need to get going. My class will start soon and I can’t be late” you say, removing your pinkie from his cold finger. Both of you don’t want this moment to end, but sadly, it has to. “See you” you say before walking away towards your next class. Lloyd watches as you walk away, his eyes following every step you take.

Everything that happened so far, everything that he felt so far, made him realize one thing.

You are his

#lloyd hansen x reader #chris evans #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x y/n #dad!lloyd hansen #dad!lloyd #dad!lloyd hansen x reader #dad!lloyd x reader #dad!lloyd hansen x sunshine!reader #daddy sociopath #daddy sociopath AU #xcaptain winterx #chris evans character x reader #lloyd hansen the gray man

108 notes · View notes

georgiapeach30513 · 1 month

Text

With Your Touch, Part 2

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

Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Au Pair!Reader

Rating: explicit

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

Word Count: 5.9K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How did your father dress you?”

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

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

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

“Dad.”

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

“Why does she need one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I mean have the American dream.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a snoop?”

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong with his name?”

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

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

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

“Fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What are my duties?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Chase!”

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

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

”I could fucking wear you out.”

“Oh, yeah? What would you do to me?”

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

His emotions are conflicting with his need to…

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

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

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

One look won’t hurt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

No!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m hungry.”

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

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

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

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

“It’s after midnight.”

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

“You — did you…I was almost asleep.”

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

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

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

“Sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I won’t drop her.”

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

“I think that’s fair.”

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

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

“That Chase boy.”

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

“Why is he even your boyfriend?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t think I’ve had creamy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Masterlist

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

#with your touch #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x fem!reader #lloyd hansen x female reader #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen fic #lloyd hansen fics #lloyd hansen fanfiction #lloyd hansen fanfic #daddy issues #au pair au #lloyd hansen x au pair!reader

259 notes · View notes

imyourbratzdoll · 2 years

Text

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

I’d like to thank @junipermuses - @royalsweetteaa - @st3rgirl - @foreverenchantingchrisevans for all of their help with creating my first kinktober and their putting up with me annoying them with it💗 and an extra thanks to @foreverenchantingchrisevans for making my kinktober sign💗

🌸𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓-𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑!🌸

🔞𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊/18+ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊. 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆! 𝐀𝐋𝐒𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 18 𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄!🔞

𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐈𝐙𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐋𝐋, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑.

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓.

🌸𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 1🌸:

3rd 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 - 𝒾𝓃𝓃𝑜𝒸𝑒𝓃𝓉

ft cop boyfriend steve rogers x girlfriend reader.

dry humping and praising

5th 𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐃𝐀𝐘 - 𝒷𝑒𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒸𝒽𝑒𝒹

ft jock jake wyler x naive reader.

glory hole and corruption/innocence

7th 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘 - 𝒻𝒶𝓌𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔

ft roommate colin shea x roommate reader.

voyeurism

9th 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 - 𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉

ft sheriff lee bodecker x criminal reader.

face-fucking and cum eating

🌷𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 2🌷:

10th 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 - 𝒹𝒶𝓏𝑒𝒹

ft tutor jake jensen x student reader.

cream pie and breeding kink

12th 𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐃𝐀𝐘 - 𝒹𝑒𝓁𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓉𝑒

ft step-dad johnny storm x step-daughter reader.

exhibitionism

14th 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘 - 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓌

ft neighbour lloyd hansen x neighbour reader.

dubcon

16th 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 - 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹

ft boyfriend chris evans and his best friend sebastian stan x girlfriend reader.

sharing kink and cuckolding

🍄𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 3🍄:

17th 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 - 𝓅𝑒𝓉𝒶𝓁

ft camboy ransom drysdale x camgirl reader.

spanking and being recorded

19th 𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐃𝐀𝐘 - 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓇𝑒

ft best friend’s brother curtis everett x inexperienced reader.

somnophilia

21st 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘 - 𝓈𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒

ft coach lance tucker x assistant coach reader.

overstimulation and semi-public sex

23rd 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 - 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝒸𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈

ft doctor steve kemp x patient reader.

dacryphilia and knife kink

💗𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 4💗:

24th 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 - 𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓎𝒹𝑜𝓁𝓁

ft boss bucky barnes x co-worker reader.

fingerfucking

26th 𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐃𝐀𝐘 - 𝓂𝑜𝑜𝓃𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉

ft caregiver frank adler x babysitter reader.

cockwarming

28th 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘 - 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝓎

ft lawyer andy barber x naive reader.

daddy kink and thigh riding

30th 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 - 𝒻𝒶𝒾𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒶𝓁𝑒

ft were-bear ari levinson x fairy reader.

monsterfucking, public sex and sex pollen

31st 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐀𝐘 - 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓌𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝓀𝒾𝓈𝓈

ft daddies ari levinson, nomad steve rogers, curtis everett. their best friends bucky barnes and andy barber and reader’s teacher jake jensen x little student reader.

group sex, begging, voyeurism, degradation, praising, daddy kink, sir kink, semi-public sex, fingerfucking, facefucking, overstimulation, spanking, sharing kink, cum eating, breeding kink, dirty talk, oral sex, nipple play, spit kink, hair pulling, squirting, deep throating, cock and ball worship, cuckolding, aftercare, being recorded and teasing

this fic is dedicated to @junipermuses without her, it wouldn’t exist💗

31st 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 2 - 𝓁𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂

ft stepdad steve rogers, step-uncle bucky barnes, stepbrother jake jensen and his best friend johnny storm x naive reader.

voyeurism, degradation, praising, daddy kink, sharing kink, fingerfucking, facefucking, overstimulation, spanking, breeding kink, dirty talk, oral sex, hair pulling, deep throating, cock and ball worship, aftercare, exhibitionism and teasing

also this one @junipermuses 💗

31st 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 3 - 𝒶𝓅𝒽𝓇𝑜𝒹𝒾𝓉𝑒

ft stepdad steve rogers, step-uncle bucky barnes, stepbrother jake jensen, his best friend johnny storm, neighbours ari levinson, andy barber and their brothers curtis everett and frank adler x naive reader.

voyeurism, degradation, praising, daddy kink, sharing kink, cuckolding, fingerfucking, group sex, facefucking, overstimulation, spanking, breeding kink, dirty talk, oral sex, hair pulling, deep throating, cock and ball worship, cum eating, aftercare, teasing, spit kink, semi-public sex, begging and exhibitionism

and this being part 2 of lavender dreams, dedicated to @junipermuses 💗

2K notes · View notes

onsunnyside · 2 years

Note

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

ˏˋ𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ♡⋆* 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞

now hear me out… he fucks your ass:

“Knew this would shut you up.” Lloyd spits down where you meet, watching his salvia slip down your stretched hole. “Little brat just needed a cock in her ass. It’s a good thing I was here tonight, can’t have you giving your holes to some other bastard.”

His phone beeps and he actually checks it, showing you the screen. “Look who it is—your dad is wondering where you are. Should I tell him you sneaked out with your friends?” You mumble uselessly around your panties, craning your neck to meet his gaze. “Daddy can’t hear you, dumb baby. Did you say to call him?”

A moment later, he’s slowly thrusting into your puckered hole, gripping your hip tightly as your father voices his concern for your absence. You’re trembling under Lloyd, digging your nails into the leather seat of his car with your heel hanging off your foot. It falls to the floor as he sinks deep, his heavy balls flush against your soaked cunt.

“I think I know where she could’ve gone, this new club opened up.” Lloyd rasps, grinding into you deeply, filling you to the brim. “Yeah, yeah—I’ll get her, and bring her right back. Oh, I’ll make sure she’s on her best behaviour, don’t worry about that.”

1K notes · View notes

cottagecheese1 · 4 months

Text

Unhinged worlds 1

summary: A few years after your father died, your mother marries a new man, to you having a new family meant new begging's, but what happens when your new begging comes spiraling apart just because of the people that made them.

paring: dark stepdad Andy Barber x reader x dark dbf Lloyd Hansen x reader x dark stepbrother Johnny storm x reader x dark bbf Colin Shea.

warnings- (DDLG undertones) stepcest, Johnny is NOT Andy's biological father, he is the adopted son. smut, do not engage if you are uncomfortable with any of the following, spanking, blackmail, p in v, edging, thigh riding, oral, fingering.

Series master list right here

"Mom, you know I've never met this man before, right?", you said with a slightly worried tone, your mother gives you an exasperated sigh and walked her way over to you, gripping your shoulders.

"Honey please, I just got married, I don't understand why you can't be happy for me this once.", you wrapped your arms around her neck and hugged your mother, she was right, you needed to see the best in this situation right now.

"I'm sorry mom, I am happy for you, it's just a lot to adjust to right now.", You gave your mother a slight smile and pulled away from her.

She gave you a smile back and responded, "oh I think you'll be okay; he has a son around your age, he's adopted but I think you two would like each other."

The smile on your face widened a little bit, your mouth opened once again to speak, but came to an abrupt stop as you saw an unfamiliar man stand behind your mother and give her a slight peck on the head.

Your mother giggled slightly and stepped back to stand by the man, "Honey, this is Andy, Andy this is my daughter.", your mother said as she spilled out your name back to the man beside her.

Andy unwrapped his arm around your mother's shoulder, and walked towards you, opening his arms forward to embrace you in a hug. This caught you off guard because for someone you just met, he seemed to be a little too touchy with you, but you thought nothing more of it, thinking it might just be the way your new stepfather expresses his feelings.

"It is so nice to finally meet you sweetie, I've heard so much about you." Andy said with a wide grin on his face, as he held you a little too tight for your own comfort.

As Andy was speaking to you, nodding your head once in a while at his banter. You heard a voice faintly behind Andy come closer.

"Dad, when will you let Colin come over, I'm fucking dying too actually-who is that?", you looked to see a younger guy with a buzzcut, and light blue eyes come out from behind Andy to get another good look at you.

Andy took a deep breath and gave a slight glare to the boy who shoved past him to you "Johnny, this is-", Andy was quickly stopped in the middle of his introduction when Johnny decided to introduce himself to you first.

"I'm Johnny, Johnny Storm, but you can call me whatever you like sweets", Johnny said with a smug grin as he took a step closer to you, and you instinctively took a step back from the muscular man, mumbling out an "okay.." and you adverted your gaze down to your feet.

It seemed a little rude once you actually processed what you just said, making yourself seem passive and unwelcoming, but for some reason you just felt shy around both of these new men, men that are now a part of your family, men that you are now permanently living with.

Johnny chuckled and continued to try to keep the conversation alive, even though his father stood sternly right behind him. Andy quickly shut down his next spill of flirtatious chatter when he saw how visibly uncomfortable you looked.

"Johnny, this is your new stepsister, don't be disrespectful.", Andy said with a warning, but Johnny just nodded and shrugged him off, giving you a playful wink and walking away with a slight skip, boosting himself over the curve of the driveway.

"Sorry about him, he just never runs out of energy ya know?" Andy says with a slight chuckle at the end. You smiled slightly and gave him a nod of reassurance.

"It's perfectly fine, doesn't bother me." You said quietly before adverting your gaze from him once again.

"Well, if he does, just come tell me and I'll go talk to him, I'd hate it if you felt uncomfortable in any way." Andy said with a slightly sympathetic look on his face.

Your mother took an earful of this moment, and decided to express her love for it "Oh Andy, you're too sweet, we both appreciate whatever you do for us."

Andy smiled brightly, still keeping his eyes glued to you, "Just doing what anyone would do" he responded.

💼

After a long day of moving boxes and making conversation, your social battery seemed to run out completely, wanting nothing more than to lay in bed and finally relax. Except it was only 3 in the afternoon.

With a lot of procrastination, you finally got out of bed and decided to dig through the fridge to find something to drink, making your way to the kitchen, until you heard a knock at the front door.

Thats weird? You weren't expecting anyone, maybe it's just one of those people who give out pamphlets about polar bears for no reason.

Making your way over to the door hesitantly, deciding if you really want to stand in the doorway and talk about how you can stop global warming for 30 minutes, but there also was a chance that it was actually somebody important.

Twisting the knob and opening the door to find a decently attractive man who looked to be around Johnny's age standing patiently. He twisted his head towards you and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Well, you're not Johnny." the man said with a slight smile on his face, and you nodded in agreement before responding.

"Um, if you're here for him, I guess you can come in." you responded as you took a step back to let him enter. He chuckled, walking past you to stand next to you as the door shut.

"Thanks sweetheart, I don't think I've met you before, I'm sure I would've remembered a cutie like you", he said playfully as your cheeks heat up slightly at the sudden comment.

"I-um, no we haven't met before, I think Johnny is in his room." You responded quickly before trying to walk away.

"Wait, hold on, I didn't get your name." the man said as he chased after you slightly, and you mumbled out your name slightly, waiting for him to reciprocate the action.

"Oh right, I'm Colin." You nodded once again.

"Nice to meet you, Colin.", deciding to try and end the conversation here so you could continue scavenging for a drink.

"Ok, ok, I can get a hint, I'll see you around sweetheart." He said as he gave you a wink before walking away.

What was weird about that is he kind of acts the same way Johnny does, but maybe that's why they're friends, of course people like other people that are similar to them, you felt stupid once you actually thought about it.

💼

Once you made your way into the kitchen, finally getting one step closer to what you wanted, except Andy was also in the kitchen leaning on the kitchen counter nursing a beer that he put down almost immediately at your presence.

"Honey, you scared me, did you need something?" He said and let out a sigh of relief that it was just you.

"I came to get a drink." You responded simply, just like the rest of you, Boring and simple.

"Of course..but could I talk to you about something honey, I just want to make sure there's no tension between us." He said softly, pushing himself off of the counter and towards you.

You gave Andy a nod of reassurance to continue, settling for a bottle of water as you sat down on the bar stool, right across where Andy was standing.

"I know your shy sweetie, but I want to let you know that you can tell me anything, your mother told me about your father, and I think it's important that you have a man in your life, someone that can take care of you honey, all of your wants and needs." Andy said softly, walking around the counter to stand behind you.

Your eyes widened as he rubbed circles on your back, your mother hasn't mentioned your father in years to you. She knows it's a sensitive subject for you to talk about, you doubt that your mother wouldn't have mentioned that to Andy.

"I-um-I don't really like to talk about my dad." you said with a slight tremble in your voice as you felt your throat get tighter, and your eyes get glassy with tears.

Your father died when you were only 9 but it felt like yesterday to you. Of course, you miss him, but you would rather not talk about it then mourn him every day.

Andy saw your eyes start to water, and your muscles start to tense. He just cooed at you lovingly, his hand moved off your back and moved directly behind you to wrap his arms around your shoulders.

"Oh sweetie, I know it's hard to talk about your feelings, but I want you to trust me, so I can be a good daddy and take care of you, don't you want that?" Andy said quietly while resting his chin on your shoulder.

Lost for words was one thing, you felt dumb, talking to you like a child, but deep down you found it strangely comforting. Andy walked back in front of you and grabbed your chin, tilting your head up softly with his fingers.

"You're my special little girl, I want you to know that honey." Andy added, while stroking your face like it was the most delicate thing in the world.

Trying to avoid eye contact with him was hard because than you couldn't help but feel tears run down your cheeks, maybe you did feel like Andy actually cared about you.

Andy suddenly pulled you closer to his chest while shushing you, pecking the top of your head once in a while. Hearing a faint noise of chatter coming closer to you made your head perk up with warning, you didn't want to anybody to see you cry today, especially over something you should've got over years ago.

"Hey dad I-what happened?" Johnny said as he skipped in the kitchen nosily, Colin standing right beside him, watching the scene unfold in front of him.

Looking from Andy's chest in embarrassment, watching the three men surrounding you, well mostly two in concern. This made more anxiety pump up in your chest and suddenly you darted down the hallway to your bedroom, where you should have stayed all along.

Ignoring the faint calls for your name and shutting the door behind you. Locking it and sliding down against your wall, finally letting all the sobs you've been keeping in until now. Great, now you won't hear the end of it tomorrow. Maybe a new family wasn't such a great idea after all.

A/n: It's been a minute since I posted ya'll, but I also just had a random urge to write a series with four hot men in it. Part two will be coming soon!

98 notes · View notes