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#chris evans characters fanfic
universitypenguin · 6 months
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Summary: Lloyd delays telling Princess about her stalker’s identity. Vivian has a medical appointment, which leads to an episode of babysitting where Lloyd bonds with a three-year-old. Meanwhile, an unexpected event kicks the serial killer investigation into high gear.
Masterlist
Word Count: 6,866
Warnings: Smut, erotica level explicitness, impact play (Lloyd spanks Princess), and semi-rough sex. Criminal activity including stalking, kidnapping, and murder. Mention of child abandonment and dysfunctional family dynamics.
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Chapter 22
From your perch on a barstool, you watched Lloyd stir a pot on the stove. He wore a snug pair of boxer briefs and nothing else. You decided this was your favorite look on him. Lloyd glanced over his shoulder and caught you staring. He smirked.
“See something you like, Princess?”
“Mmmhh. You’re like a real life Calvin Klein model, and you’re cooking me dinner.”
Lloyd snorted. “Their current poster boy is what, twenty-one?”
“I don’t know. Calvin Klein models were more of a middle school fantasy for me.”
“Which models, specifically?” he asked.
“The ones featured during the South African World Cup. The internet was plastered with their photos. You don’t remember?”
“Twelve years ago I was in Afghanistan. They don’t allow underwear commercials.”
“Well, I can’t remember his name, but he was a Danish soccer player, who was like three times my age.”
“You were drooling over thirty-six-year-old men when you were twelve?”
“What? He had really great abs.”
Lloyd shook his head, returning his attention to the pot of soup simmering on the stove.
“They were inescapable, and I had a lot of hormones, okay? All those delicious muscles slathered in baby oil was my sexual awakening.”
“Once you hit thirty, you’ll feel more comfortable thinking about sexual awakenings happening around the age of sixteen, or even better, seventeen.”
You laughed. “That’s not reality.”
He flicked off the burner and winked. “Once you eat something, let’s talk about these soccer player fantasies. I want details.”
“Don’t get your hopes up - I wasn’t old enough to fill in the details. Now, my highschool fantasies? Those are worth talking about.”
Lloyd caught you around the waist and pulled you into his lap when you moved to sit down at the dining room table. You giggled when his hands snuck under the hem of the button down dress shirt you wore, exploring the bare skin he found there.
“No panties?”
“Your dress shirt was all I could find. Someone must have stolen my clothes.”
“What a tragedy,” Lloyd murmured, nuzzling your cheek.
You giggled when his mustache tickled your neck. He kissed along your throat and across your jaw and chin, before finding your lips.
“First we eat, then you tell me everything,” he said.
Eating in Lloyd’s lap was surprisingly comfortable. He didn’t insist on feeding you and didn’t mind when you stole the spoon for yourself. After consuming half of the bowl, you handed it back to him and curled against him while he finished the dish. You sighed, content.
“See, this is even better than my fantasies. You can actually cook-”
“This hardly counts, it’s just soup.”
You ignored him, continuing, “-and you have chest hair. I didn’t know there was such a thing as a chest hair kink, but I definitely have one.”
Lloyd groaned as you traced the whorl pattern of hair on his right pectoral.
“Plus, you’re warm.”
“You’ll be all over me this winter, won’t you?” he said.
“Arm candy, bed warmer, and he’s smart? You really are the whole package, aren’t you?”
You stroked a zigzag pattern through the dark brown hairs of his happy trail just above the waistband of his boxers.
“Princess… you’re playing with fire.”
You smirked at his gravelly voice. “No, I’m not. You already turned off the stove.”
He grunted when you straddled him. The position put your breasts at the same height as his mouth. Lloyd nuzzled their upper swells as you sank your finger into his hair, petting the short strands at the back of his neck.
Lloyd unbuttoned your dress shirt and examined your breasts.
“Still sore?”
“They’re definitely tender.”
He rubbed one and you hissed.
“Yeah, that’s going to sting for a while,” he said.
“It’s not a bad sore, just kind of… raw?”
“Well, I did promise you raw nipples, didn’t I?”
“And a sore ass.”
Lloyd glanced up through his lashes. “I’m glad you brought that up, Princess. It reminds me… I only delivered on half of my promise.”
“Huh?”
“I gave you instructions, and you disobeyed me. That warrants punishment, don’t you think?”
“Lloyd, I’ve never let anyone paddle my ass, and if you think-”
He moved too fast for you to protest, manhandling you so you lay chest down, spread over his thighs. Your breasts pressed against his leg and you moaned at the pressure on your aching nipples. Tension coiled in your belly as excitement heightened your sensitivity, making the raw flesh sting.
“Lloyd!”
“Scoot up. I suggest you cooperate because if I don’t spank you, I’m going to have to come up with another punishment. I have a few ideas…”
The butt plug and lube in his nightstand drawer flashed through your head. You scooted forward.
“Good girl, so obedient. I think you want to be punished, don’t you?”
You whimpered at his velvety voice. “Y-yes…”
Lloyd ran a calloused hand over the back of your thighs. “I’ve been thinking of smacking this pretty ass for a long time, Princess.”
That piqued your interest. “How long?”
“Too long,” he said, caressing your bottom.
“The first day you met me?”
“The second day. That pencil skirt, the one that goes past your knees? It’s blue and tight.”
You suddenly regretted donating that skirt last year during a closet declutter, even if it was a size too small.
“On the day you gave me your first research file, that’s what you wore. I still can’t forget how good your ass looked as you walked away. Last chance to back out, Princess.”
You squirmed, but didn’t object.
Lloyd grunted. “Princess, use your words.”
“I don’t think you have the guts to-”
His palm cracked on your left ass cheek. You gasped, stunned by the blow. He slapped the other side with the same force and you cried out. He pinched the fleshy part of your inner thighs between his thumb and forefinger, hard, eliciting a yelp.
“Don’t hold your breath. If you do, you’ll pass out,” Lloyd said.
Then his palm cracked against your skin. The sides alternated: left cheek, right, left, left, right…
“Lloyd!”
You surged up, only to have his forearm shoved into the small of your back, pinning you down.
“Arch your back, Princess. Keep your ass in the air, practice makes perfect.”
“Ow, Lloyd! That hurts!”
“It’s supposed to. You can’t follow instructions, then you pay the price, my naughty… little… fucktoy,” he hissed, punctuating the last three words with a smack.
Your back arched.
“Please! Fucking hell, Lloyd! Damn it, oh!”
You struggled to get enough leverage to escape, but he was too strong.
“Next time you’ll arch your back just like this, won’t you? You’ll be a good girl and keep your chest down and your ass up, huh?”
“Gaaahhh!” you screamed when he peppered a series of blows on a spot that was already aching.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…! Lloyd, please!”
He wasn’t holding back and despite the pain, his spanking was having the strangest effect on your body. It was turning you on. Your protests were born from shock and confusion, because you hadn’t expected this to hurt so much. The pain was the shocking part; the confusing part was that you hadn’t dreamed it would feel so good.
Yet, your toes were curling and your legs stiffened with each stinging swat. Every strike aroused you further. The harsher the sting of his hand, the sweeter the pleasure in your pussy. It was like the sting traveled through you, racing through nerves and transferring the heat of burning slaps on your skin to the inferno deep in your core. Your pussy was throbbing with a fire that was more intense than pain. Then his next blow triggered a cry that had nothing to do with discomfort.
Your thighs flexed and your toes curled as your shriek tapered off into a needy, hungry sound.
“Oh, fuck… Lloyd…”
You whimpered and rocked against his thigh, groaning at the overwhelming rush of pleasure, mingled with pain.
Lloyd cooed. “That’s my girl. Your pussy’s dripping down my leg.”
Your nipples tingled, still raw from their earlier treatment. You were panting and shivering, sweat trickling down your neck. He switched hands, and you squealed at the next barrage of unrelenting slaps. The line between what was pleasure and what was pain ceased to exist. You were acutely aware of the pulsating heat in your nipples and the hardness of Lloyd’s cock pressing against your belly.
The feelings his spanking elicited now were sharp and hot, causing your moans to drop into a lower register as you rocked back to meet each blow. Slowly, he eased into a gentler pace, delivering milder smacks.
Your chest was heaving as darkness danced on the edge of your vision.
“Breathe, Princess.”
You gasped.
“That’s it, good girl.”
His fingers brushed your sex, and you wailed, shuddering at the intensity of the sensation. Your back arched when he stroked your abused skin. The gentle caress made you keen.
Lloyd hauled you upright, turning you so your back pressed against his chest. Without his support you’d have slid to the floor. Your body buzzed with an urgent need and you mewled as he gently palmed your breasts.
You moaned, caught in the grip of a sensation somewhere between pain and immense pleasure.
“There, there, Princess. You’re okay. Next time, what are you going to do? Hmm?”
“Keep… my ass… up,” you sniffed, fighting back tears.
He rubbed the backs of his knuckles against the side of your breasts. “You’ll keep your ass up, and?”
“Chest down,” you whispered.
“That’s a good girl. We’ll try again when your nipples aren’t sore and you can show me what an obedient little fucktoy you are.”
You whined, thighs clenching. Tears were falling and your ass stung but you were so turned on that the pleasure was acutely uncomfortable. Lloyd’s hands drifted from your breasts to roam your body, tracing your waist, belly, and hips. He skimmed your thighs, tugging them apart until you spread them wide, giving him unrestricted access. His fingers dipped into your sex.
“Aw, fucking hell. That pussy’s drenched for me. I knew you’d like your spanking, naughty girls always do.”
He pinched your tender nipple, and you keened, tipping into a state of delirium. Your head fell back against his shoulder as your body went lax. Lloyd murmured something approving, but the words were lost in the buzz of euphoria that echoed in your ears. You couldn’t stop trembling.
Lloyd’s fingers breached your cunt, probing your g-spot.
“Yeah, gush all over my fingers. That’s my Princess, so fucking responsive. You’re spent, but this creamy little pussy just can’t get enough, can it? She’s throbbing. I bet it aches worse than your ass.”
He used his free hand to tease your clit, and you bucked, sobbing from the intense pleasure. You grasped his wrist to ease the friction and Lloyd snarled.
“Cut that out, or I’ll put you over my knee again.”
He spread your pussy open and stroked your entrance, collecting juices and swirling them over your clit.
“Come on my fingers, Princess.”
After issuing the command, he worked your clit hard. Within seconds you jackknifed from a lightning flash of pleasure that almost made you surge out of his arms. Lloyd nipped at your neck and the unexpected sensation made you shudder. His teeth sank into your skin as your body rolled with waves of ecstasy.
When you came down from the high, you felt the hardness under your thigh and squirmed. Lloyd allowed you to slide off his lap but caught your hips to steady you when your knees wobbled. After taking a second to get your bearings, you turned to face Lloyd, then sank to your knees between his legs.
Surprise flickered in his eyes but he lifted his hips, cooperating as you pulled down his boxers. The thick, ruddy cock sprang free, and you grasped it by the base, then licked at its weeping head. Lloyd groaned, shoving himself past your lips in a silent demand. You accepted him eagerly, wiggling your tongue against the underside of his cock.
“Yeah, just like that…”
He guided your head, showing you the tempo he preferred, then let go once you’d adopted the pace.
“Harder,” he murmured, voice rough with arousal.
You hollowed your cheeks and gripped him tighter. He hadn’t tried to push into your throat, which only made you more excited to perform the act. Relaxing your jaw, you inhaled through your nose and took him as deep as you could.
Lloyd gasped. His cock twitched in your throat, and you swallowed reflexively, moaning. When you couldn’t hold the position anymore, you pulled back, gagging. After another deep breath, you braced your hands on his thighs and repeated the maneuver. He was restrained, and that emboldened you to swallow harder, pushing yourself out of your comfort zone. You kept your hands on his thighs out of caution, aware that his good behavior might end at any moment.
The self-protection didn’t prove necessary. Going down on Lloyd was fun. He wasn’t pushy, and he was vocal about his pleasure. The slurred praise he offered when you took him deep made you quiver with excitement. When your jaw needed a break, you ran your tongue over his balls, laving the swollen sac and basking in the rough, male noises that rewarded your efforts.
You chipped in surprise when Lloyd hauled you to your feet. He jerked you onto his lap, cupping your ass while he aligned your bodies. His thick erection grazed your clit. The sensation was so intense that you jerked away. Lloyd growled, hauling you back down.
“Come on, relax for me, Princess. I know you’re desperate to be filled.”
He was right. Sucking him off had triggered a fresh wave of arousal that had fire licking at your core. Lloyd captured one of your battered nipples in his mouth and sucked, purring when you trembled in response. He released it and caressed your hips, then stroked his palms over the tender skin of your buttocks.
“Ready, sweetheart?”
You pressed your forehead against his and whimpered as his cock probed the entrance to your pussy. “Yes… Please, fuck me.”
He thrust up hard, impaling you with a single stroke. You screamed and dug your nails into his shoulders.
“Ah, fuck! Lloyd!”
“Shh… relax. Let me in. I know, I know. This is a new angle for you, isn’t it?”
He felt huge like this. The girth was too intense and you scrambled to adjust, hooking your ankles over his knees and raising your hips. Lloyd kneaded your ass, causing a rush of pleasure and pain that flooded your pussy with juices and allowed you to sink down a little further.
You groaned, thighs quivering as you struggled to hold yourself up. You were afraid your legs would give out, and you’d be impaled again. Lloyd claimed your mouth and kissed you. HIs mouth was slow and sensual and coaxed you into relaxing. You rolled your hips and whimpered when he slid deep, brushing a spot that made you quiver. He grasped your hips and pushed them back, then drew them forward.
You gasped at the sensation.
Lloyd paused. “Too deep?”
“N-n-no… Oh, fuck…”
You squirmed and tried to mimic the maneuver. Lloyd moaned.
“Atta girl, baby. Get yourself off on my cock.”
Your hips snapped harder at his encouragement. When he sucked delicately on one of your nipples, you keened. You lost your rhythm, but it didn’t matter because Lloyd took control. He used your body’s weight to guide your hips in quick tempo, rooting himself as deep as possible with every stroke. Your legs shook violently and when the orgasm hit, you screamed, unraveling into sobs of overwhelmed pleasure.
Lloyd took advantage of the deep angle. The ripples of your channel seemed to aim his cock right at the sweet spot that made you quiver and turned your muscles to Jell-O. His thrusts became rougher and harder, and your pussy creamed. You cried, disoriented, helpless against the unrestrained response of your body. All you could do was hang on and shudder as your eyes rolled back in your head and Lloyd’s hands guided your hips through the last of the orgasm.
He hissed your name and his seed flooded your womb, triggering another orgasm that wracked your exhausted muscles. After the final burst of ecstasy, your head fell into the crook of Lloyd’s neck and he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you tight.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lloyd broke from his usual routine and silenced his alarm at 4 a.m.
He nestled against you, grateful that you were sleeping deeply, and therefore accepting of his intrusion into your side of the bed. When you were half-awake and still trying to cling to sleep you were very territorial about your personal space. He relished the victory of getting to hold you like this and pressed his forehead against the back of your neck. You slept soundly in these early hours, which sometimes allowed him to indulge in the affection he craved without disturbing you. Although he’d only intended to cuddle, he succumbed to sleep within minutes.
The buzzing of his phone woke him. Scowling at the time - it was just after six - he answered the unknown number.
“What do you want?”
“Hello, Lloyd.”
Lloyd’s nostrils flared. “Why are you calling me?”
“Is that how you greet an old friend?”
“We aren’t friends.”
“Fair point. Wait, don’t hang up. I have a new lead,” Court Gentry said.
Lloyd hesitated, his finger over the end call button.
“Go on.”
“The spy is trying to access files from B&H’s patent department. If they do, it’ll pose a threat to national security - a significant threat.”
“Then call Clayton Bishop, or the FBI - anyone but me,” Lloyd replied.
“Trust me, if I could, I would. You’re the only person I’m sure isn’t involved. The latest efforts to access the files prove this guy has hacking skills. He’s trying to exploit weaknesses in your cyber security and someone’s helping him. I know something is going down this week. I need your help.”
“No. I’m not a spy. Don’t call me again.”
Lloyd tossed the phone on the nightstand and sighed. The Chinese spy wasn’t his problem. It wasn’t even Court’s problem, but Gentry wasn’t the type to keep his nose out of other people’s business.
You murmured and rustled in the blankets, stealing the covers he’d loosened his grip on. Lloyd watched as you coiled yourself into a cocoon of blankets and wondered how you didn’t smother yourself by sleeping like that. His phone buzzed again. The sound made your lashes flutter and Lloyd rubbed your back. He was inordinately pleased when you settled immediately, your breathing evening out again.
Lloyd silenced the phone and checked his text messages.
There were three new messages, all from Jake. One had just arrived. The other two had come in around 5 a.m.
Hey. I need to upgrade the security on your guys laptops - work and personal. The stalker’s been trying to hack them. It’s mainly Princess’ work computer, but I want to cover all the bases just in case.
What time can I come over?
Lloyd? R u awake?
He responded, letting Jake know he could come over after eight, then went downstairs to make coffee.
Between the call from Court and Jake’s texts, the morning had gone sour. His anxiety was flaring back up and he was halfway through his first cup of coffee when it occurred to him that caffeine probably wasn’t the greatest idea right now. He poured the rest of his coffee down the sink and rubbed his jaw, wondering what problem to tackle first. There was the matter of telling you about Nguyen, reviewing your notes from the interview with Aliyah, catching up with Jake about the attacks on your laptops, and… Lloyd frowned.
The conversation with Court was still echoing in his head. Could the cyber attacks on your work computer have something to do with Nguyen? Did that fit the stalker’s profile? Aiden might be behind the latest attack. That would make sense… kind of.
Lloyd leaned against the counter, scowling, and wishing he hadn’t thrown the last of his coffee down the drain. Maybe Nguyen was the serial killer. Bishop still believed he was, and while Lloyd wasn’t keen on his boss’ blind faith in that theory, he suddenly wanted to take another look at Nguyen. His gut said that he’d missed something - something critical.
“Do I smell coffee?”
He turned to see you standing at the foot of the stairs, wearing his robe.
“Yeah, creamer’s in the fridge.”
Lloyd waited while you doctored your coffee and took a few sips. He’d figured out what he needed to say, but instead, he grabbed the files Landon had given him yesterday.
“Princess. We need to talk about your stalker.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
You sat at the dining table, reading the files. Each one was labeled with a name: Georgina Rochester, Aiden LeDoux, Shun Nguyen, and finally, Juan Medina.
Picking up Juan’s file, you frowned.
“What’s this?”
Lloyd cleared his throat. “We investigated all potential suspects we could think of.”
“Really? Investigating Juan would’ve involved talking to me. That never happened.”
“Given the circumstances, I can’t expect you to be impartial.”
Your gaze sharpened. “I’ve known Juan for a decade.”
“Princess, you’re too close to him to see him as a threat, and you know it.”
“And maybe you’re too far removed to see that he’s harmless. Everything in here is technically true - Juan got into bar fights and took anger management classes - but there’s more to the story.”
“Then explain it.”
“Juan’s little brother just turned twenty-one. He’s always had a bad temper and alcohol exacerbates it. Juan’s tried to keep him out of trouble but-”
“There’s no arrest record for the brother,” Lloyd interrupted.
“Not yet, but it’s only a matter of time. Juan is the complete opposite of his brother and he’d never do anything to harm his family.”
“He’s been charged with multiple misdemeanors.”
“Two nights in jail hardly makes him a hardened criminal.”
“Princess, you’re one of the most loyal people I know. You’d defend someone you love even if they were guilty.”
“Maybe I would, but the idea that Juan would hurt me is ridiculous. He’s not angry or dangerous.”
“We can’t afford to dismiss any leads,” Lloyd said.
“But this lead isn’t significant. You should’ve discussed this with me.”
“I didn’t want to put you in a position where you had to defend him.”
“The impression you get of Juan from this file is totally wrong and knowing the backstory changes everything. Letting me explain would’ve saved time and resources.”
“No, it wouldn’t have. We’re running down every lead in this case - especially after what happened two weeks ago. I’m not risking your safety on a blind spot.”
“You’re not listening to me. I know Juan and I trust him. I’m absolutely sure he isn’t the stalker.”
“I don’t even trust myself to be objective right now, Princess. Neither of us should try to unravel the stalker’s identity. If Juan made the suspect list, he’s on it until Landon decides he isn’t.”
“Then I need to talk to Landon because investigating Juan is a waste of time.”
“I’m sorry this makes you uncomfortable, but we should turn over every stone.”
“You’re being unreasonable on purpose, aren’t you?”
Lloyd’s expression softened. “I’m sorry I waited to tell you about this, but please, leave the investigating to Landon. He’ll figure it out. If Juan is as squeaky clean as you think, it won’t take long.”
You sighed, rubbing your neck. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fly off the handle. I’m just…”
Suddenly, you were on the verge of tears. Your voice cracked when you tried to speak and you buried your face in your hands.
“Hey, it’s okay.”
Lloyd stood up and moved around the table. His arms wrapped around you as he let you bury your head in his chest.
“I’m here, Princess. Everything’s going to be okay. We’ll get through this and things will go back to normal. You’re safe.”
“How can I be safe if Nguyen is in the country?”
Lloyd squeezed you. “I won’t let you out of my sight. Also, Jake’s coming over to update the security systems on the house and our computers. We’re taking every precaution and then some, okay?”
You pulled back and looked up at him, lips compressing in a grimace.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about something… Vivian has an appointment with her obstetrician. She asked me if I could watch the kids this afternoon.”
“That’s not a good idea,” Lloyd said.
“I agree, but she needs my help. If you came with me, you could search for evidence on Juan. Think of how much time that would save Landon. Can we take evasive measures and sneak over, or is it totally out of the question?”
He hesitated. “It might not be safe.”
“The last thing I want to do is put Vivian’s family at risk, but if there’s a way to make it happen…”
“Have you discussed this with Vivian?” Lloyd asked.
“I can talk to her.”
“Explain the situation and if she’s okay with it, I’ll figure something out. Just don’t say anything about Juan, please.”
You kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lloyd sat at Juan Medina’s desk in the upstairs master bedroom, preoccupied with Juan’s laptop. He kept an ear out for sounds that would warn him of an approaching toddler or the jangle of tags from the family dog, Chewy. The tan and white Cavalier King Charles spaniel had taken an instant dislike to Lloyd at first sniff, which he considered to be very insightful on the canine’s part.
The house was fairly quiet. The only sounds from downstairs were of you cleaning. He could hear the rumble of the washing machine, along with the frequent buzz of the dryer and the dishwasher. Your efficiency was unrivaled. He’d listened to the sound of you tackling a mountain of household chores while keeping the smaller toddler - the boy, Sam - occupied. Meanwhile, the three-year-old, Alyssa, had escaped to the backyard. From the window over the desk, he could see her playing in the yard.
His thorough search of Juan Medina’s laptop had yielded nothing of value. The man’s internet search history was full of hockey, nerdy online card games, and researching which fantasy novels he wanted to buy next. Judging by the bookcase, your brother-in-law’s primary hobby was reading. His offline commitments included a weekly Dungeons & Dragons meetup at the library, helping his mother with yard work, and taking the kids on monthly field trips with a local father’s group. Juan was probably pretty normal by regular standards, but to Lloyd he was the most boring person on earth. He was also envious of the man and that drove him nuts because he couldn’t pin down a reason why he felt that way.
Lloyd brushed off the feeling and closed Juan’s laptop.
Downstairs, the transformation in the family room startled him. The clutter of kid’s toys, piles of books, jackets, blankets, and empty drinking glasses had vanished. He barely recognized the room. In the kitchen, the countertops gleamed. You’d swept and mopped the floor and conquered the overflowing pile of dishes. The family room, the kitchen, the living room, it was all spotless. Even the sliding glass doors that had been covered in Chewy’s nose prints was now clean.
He noticed the basket of folded laundry by the couch and shook his head. How had you managed all this in just a few hours?
Lloyd walked out onto the deck where Sam was playing with a toy tractor. The little boy was so absorbed in his own world that he didn’t spare the man a glance when he walked by. Lloyd headed down the steps to the yard and headed to where you were crouched in the middle of the yard, looking frustrated.
“What are you doing?” Lloyd asked.
“I’m trying to fix this sprinkler head. Juan left Vivian a note to have Dad take a look, so I read a how-to article, which made it seem easy enough. I think I was lied to.”
Lloyd squatted down. “What step are you on?”
“Taking off the sprinkler head. I’m afraid if I use any more force it’ll break.”
“Do you have a screwdriver with a longer handle? You need more torque.”
You gestured to the tool box beside you. “Take your pick.”
He found the right tool and loosened the troublesome screw. Once it was free, you took over.
“It’s okay, I’ve got it.”
After knowing you for three years, he recognized the look on your face and easily handed over the sprinkler head. It was better to just get out of the way when you were on a mission. Besides, he wasn’t about to get grass stains on his freshly dry cleaned Tom Ford chinos if it wasn’t necessary. He scanned the yard, taking in Sam playing on the deck and then turning to the rock pile where Alyssa seemed to be digging a hole to China.
“What’s your niece doing?” Lloyd asked.
“Digging up rocks. Don’t ask me why, because there’s a perfectly good sandbox on top of the hill. She’s always in that rock pile.”
He left you to the sprinkler repairs and headed toward the rock pile. When he saw who was approaching, Chewy, the cocker spaniel, positioned himself between Alyssa and Lloyd. He gave the suspicious dog plenty of space and crouched down on the other side of the rock pile, leaving a large space between them to appease the dog.
“Hey, Alyssa.”
The three-year-old glanced at him, then stabbed her yellow plastic shovel into the dirt. There was a pile of stones next to her right foot. Lloyd watched as she sorted them, examining each before keeping it or tossing it back into the pit. He spotted one he recognized in front of him and picked it up.
“Do you know what this is?” he asked Alyssa.
She stopped digging and examined the rock he held out for a moment before shaking her head.
“See how smooth it is?” Lloyd scraped his thumb over the surface. “When you can scratch a rock with just your fingernail, that means it’s soft. The color and shape are also big clues.”
The little girl looked at him expectantly.
“It’s slate,” Lloyd said.
She held her hand out, and Lloyd dropped it into her palm. He watched as she searched her red bucket and then handed him two more rocks. Lloyd examined them.
“Yeah, these are slate, too.”
Alyssa dug into the bucket again. She paused, as if something had just occurred to her, and extended her hand and wiggled her fingers at him. He passed back the two pieces of slate she’d given him, and the one he’d picked up. She placed them carefully into the red bucket before offering him another rock.
Lloyd studied the specimen, hiding his grin. When he realized what she’d handed him he raised an eyebrow.
“This is agate. Sometimes people make jewelry out of these.”
Alyssa continued to pass him different rocks, though she only allowed him to handle one at a time. She was like a strict librarian who only allowed single book check outs and enforced the return policy with the zeal of a Mutaween. He identified limestone, quartzite, agates, and several pieces of granite for her.
“Which ones are your favorite?” Lloyd asked.
She reached under a dense fern and pulled out an old Folgers coffee container. It surprised him when she took off the lid and handed it over. Lloyd inspected the contents. There was a chip of Mica, easily identifiable by its flakey structure and pearlescent shine. Several of the greenish rocks looked like Sandstone, though one of them had the striations characteristic of Gneiss. Looking at the collection, he realized that Alyssa’s criteria for special rocks focused on color and shininess. At the bottom there was a gray rock with a dusting that looked like blue powder.
He rubbed it with his thumb and inspected it in the light. Chrysocolla or Amazonite?
“This is an impressive collection,” he said.
Alyssa reached under the fern and dug around, searching for something and brushed it off before passing it to him. At first he thought it was just a piece of limestone, but when he flipped it over, there was a clear impression on the other side.
“Wow. This is a cool fossil.”
It looked like a prehistoric crustacean, with lots of ridges and segments in the stone that showed the shape and structure of the animal’s body.
“Is this why you’re digging over here?” Lloyd asked.
The plastic yellow shovel she was using made sense, considering the fossil. He handed it back and watched as she packed the rocks into the Folgers container.
“Why don’t you pick a few rocks to take inside? You could display them on your windowsill or something,” Lloyd said.
Her lips pursed as she considered him, then glanced over her shoulder at you. Lloyd followed her gaze to where you were filling in the hole around the sprinkler head.
“Hey, Princess. Have you seen the fossil Alyssa found?”
At his announcement, Alyssa hissed, shoving the red plastic container underneath the fern. She glared furiously at Lloyd and grabbed the spaniel’s collar. He watched as she stalked across the yard to the deck, dragging Chewy along with her. Lloyd realized he’d committed a betrayal of great magnitude but wasn’t sure how.
When you’d finished with the sprinkler system, he asked.
“Why is Alyssa so protective of her rocks?”
“What rocks?”
“She collects rocks. She’s got a good eye for it too, but I guess she doesn’t like sharing them.”
“Oh, you mean the rocks she smuggles into her bedroom? We try to keep them in the yard because she stashes them in her bookcase and it gets all muddy. Vivian tosses them back in the rock pile when she finds them.”
“That must be frustrating,” Lloyd said.
“Yeah, Vivian can hardly keep up with it.”
“No, I mean that she’s finding interesting stuff. You should have them tumbled. One of her rocks is probably Amazonite or Chrysocolla and she has a really cool fossil, too.���
You stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. She knows what she’s looking for. I think it’s the colors in the rocks that attracts her attention. Blues and reds seem to be her favorite. Does she have any books on rocks?”
“No, she can’t read yet.”
“They have picture books,” Lloyd said.
“Huh. That’d be a great Christmas gift. Do you think I should re-seed the lawn?”
“What?”
“It might be too early, and I don’t know if Juan is planning on aerating,” you mused.
“You already did the dishes, the laundry, cleaned the house, and fixed the sprinklers.”
“Oh, crap! I forgot about the dryer. Sam! Come inside, it’s getting late!”
Sam launched a valiant protest when you tried to herd him inside. You tended to the toddler’s outburst while Lloyd went to find Alyssa. She was upstairs in her room. Chewy was curled into a ball on her bed and when he saw Lloyd, the fluffy spaniel growled. Lloyd stopped short, respecting the warning, and leaned against the doorjamb.
“If you pick out some rocks from your bookcase, I’ll help you polish them,” Lloyd offered.
Thirty minutes later you walked into the kitchen to find Alyssa standing on a stool next to Lloyd at the sink. A paper towel full of wet rocks sat next to a pile of used sandpaper.
“What are you two up to?” you asked.
“We’re polishing Alyssa’s rocks. Look at this one, it’s a carnelian.”
You examined the bright red stone and smiled at your niece.
“That’s beautiful.”
She looked down, shrugging, but smiled. Lloyd picked up another one.
“This is a blue lace agate.”
After he showed it to you, he handed it back to Alyssa, who snuck it into her pocket instead of laying it on the paper towel.
“Did you find these in the backyard?” you asked her.
She didn’t respond, so Lloyd answered for her.
“I think she might have, but I’m not sure. There’s enough variety here that I think she collected some of them from other places.”
“You should put them on display in your room. Your Mom will be home soon and she’d like to see them - especially now that they’re clean.”
Alyssa beamed. “Mine.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The quiet hum of the Mercedes’ engine filled the car as you drove west towards the cabin. Lloyd glanced over and you sensed his scrutiny.
“You’ve been awfully quiet,” you said, breaking the silence. “Is something on your mind?”
He turned his attention back to the road, flexing his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Tonight, at your sister’s place…”
“You really hit it off with Alyssa. I was impressed.”
“She’s a sweet kid, but I was actually wondering about all the housework. You did everything from the laundry to fixing the sprinklers. If your sister had hired a whole cleaning crew, they wouldn’t have done as much as you did.”
You sighed. “Vivian is juggling a lot right now. I was just lending a hand.”
“It’s not just tonight, though. You’ve always helped her out, even before, when you were in college. I’ve never seen her do the same for you, especially not to this extent.”
“She’s my sister, and she needed help. Besides, you never complain when I do things for you.”
“I pay you to help me,” Lloyd pointed out. “She didn’t even say thank you.”
You chuckled. “That’s just what having a sister is like.”
“Well, from my perspective, it seems like she’s taking advantage of you.”
“Lloyd, I can’t explain this to you.”
“What’s to explain?” he growled.
“I’m the oldest, it’s different. You wouldn’t understand, you’re an only child.”
Silence fell and again, the gentle hum of the engine filled the car.
“Actually, I’m not.”
“What?” you stared at him.
“I have two younger sisters.”
“You never mentioned… Lloyd, I didn’t realize… the articles about you never said...”
“I haven’t seen them in thirty years.”
“Why?”
His grip on the steering wheel tightened. You watched his shoulders rise and fall on a deep breath.
“My mother left when I was eleven. She took my sisters, but left me.”
“She abandoned you…? And left you with your father?”
“Yeah.”
“Lloyd, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
He shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”
“Did you ever reach out to them?”
“No.”
You frowned. “Why not?”
“I wasn’t even sure they were alive until recently. I doubt they’d want to hear from me. They’ve built lives of their own. What would contacting them do except stir up bad memories? If they can forget… that would be better.”
Better for who? You held back the question, unsure if he was ready to answer it.
Lloyd sighed. “I don’t know if they’d want to see me and talking about them isn’t easy. That’s why I’ve never mentioned them before.”
His face was stony but there was a quiet ache in his voice that hinted at the hurt hidden behind the composed mask.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For assuming. For not asking you about your family.”
He shrugged. “Who could blame you? Sharing isn’t exactly in my nature.”
You turned away, gazing out the window. You tried to imagine having your siblings ripped away but couldn’t manage it. What was wrong with Lloyd’s mother? How could she have done such a terrible thing? There were reasons, of course - desperation, fear, psychosis. None of those answers softened the anger you felt toward the faceless woman who’d snatched Lloyd’s siblings. Why would she leave him behind, sentencing him to live with the man she’d chosen to flee?
“You’re wondering why she took them and left me, aren’t you?” Lloyd asked.
“I can’t imagine what kind of a mother would do something like that. It’s awful.”
“She was crazy. That’s a solid reason, but if you ask me, it’s because I looked like him.”
You were confused. “Him?”
“My father.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The cabin’s porch light glowed in a cozy welcome as Lloyd turned into the driveway. You pretended to look out the window to hide the tears in your eyes.
Lloyd’s childhood couldn’t have been easy. You’d known that already, but what he’d revealed tonight was crueler than your imaginings. He parked and shut off the engine, silencing the quiet hum.
The shrill scream of his phone pierced the quiet, making you jump. He frowned at the caller I.D.
“It’s Roth.”
You watched as he answered and lines of concern creased his face. The words on the other end of the line were muffled but the furrow between Lloyd’s brows suggested the news wasn’t good. He listened for a long time before he spoke.
“Alright. We’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“What’s going on?”
“There’s been a disappearance. Another woman was abducted in Harmony.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Next - Chapter XXIII
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Masterlist
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bethsvrse · 5 months
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me, a writer, at 3am: WHAT? I CANT FIND THE SPECIFIC FANFIC THAT I MADE UP IN MY MIND WITH A WHOLE PLOT AND ORIGINAL CHARACTERS??? WHO DO THEY THINK THEY ARE??? DO THEY EXPECT ME TO WRITE THE STORY I THOUGHT UP OF???
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imyourbratzdoll · 11 months
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Hi! I love your fics so much and wanted to send in a request if that would be okay with you!!💗 could you please do a lifeguard!Ari Levinson x Tiny!reader where she brings him lunch while he’s at work, she’s wearing a bikini… obvi. When she gets there she sees girls flirting and staring at Ari and she gets really jealous, size kink… smut? 😁
hey honey! thank you so much, I'm sorry this took so long, and I hope you like it.
summary - you go to surprise your boyfriend and get jealous over the women hanging around him.
warning - smut, angst, jealousy, daddy kink, creampie, breeding kink, swearing, public sex.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips
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You wanted to surprise your partner. You decided to make his favourite food, wrapping it in cute packaging before putting it in an adorable picnic basket and wearing the sexy bikini that Ari had gifted you. You were happy as you skipped up, excited to see Ari, but you began to regret it as you got closer. Your man stood with tall, good-looking women around him, their hands touching his biceps, and they seemed to be flirting. Was this what he does when he’s here? Did you not mean anything? Were you too short? Many thoughts flew around in your mind, causing the green monster to appear. 
You can feel your inner brat begin to make its way to the surface. With a huff, you stomp your foot and angrily turn around, not feeling in the mood to have lunch with Ari anymore. You don’t notice Ari turning his head with a smile as he sees you, which slowly turns into a frown when he catches you walking away. He growls when he realises why. These stupid bimbos are always crowding him daily, and he’s learnt to zone them out, watching out for danger. They had known he was taken, but they didn’t care, and he wished he could drown them in the same ocean he was watching. 
Ari pushes the women as he stalks after you, nodding to the other lifeguard to take over for him. “Baby!” Ari huffs, breaking out into a jog as he chases after you. “Baby! Goddamit woman! Slow down!” He growls, wondering how a tiny ass woman can be so damn fast. Ari finally catches up to you, quickly getting ahead and stopping before you. He sighs when he notices the look on your face, knowing he’d have to make it up to you. “Baby girl. Where do you think you're going?” 
You roll your eyes, attempting to walk past him but feel annoyed as he stops you. “Ari, let me go. I’m not in the mood. Go back to your beach, bimbos.” You grumble, and a squeal escapes as you are suddenly lifted, your feet no longer touching the ground as Ari carries you to a secluded part of the beach. Your tiny fists hit his back, gasping as his large hand smacks your plump cheeks. 
Ari plonks you down onto the ground and stands over you. “Now, baby girl. You know I love you, and I’d never cheat on you, so why let your inner brat take over?” His hands rest on his hips before he kneels and crawls on top of you, gripping your cheeks softly. “Did my little baby come to give daddy some lunch, hmm? Did you come here wearing my favourite bikini and then get jealous thinking I’d rather have someone else?” A moan slips past your lips as he rubs his prominent bulge against your covered cunt. “Why don’t I make it up to you, baby.” You whine when he slides your bikini bottoms to the side and takes his throbbing member out. Ari lines the thick cock with your entrance before slowly pushing in, grunting with how tight you are around him. “Fuck, baby!” 
Your eyes roll to the back of your head, feeling your walls spasm wildly around his cock as he continues to push in deeper and deeper, stretching you open from the inside. Your hands fly to his back, digging your nails into his flesh as your head flies back. “Daddy! Daddy! Oh fuck!” You whine and moan, wrapping your tiny legs around his giant body. Your screams echo as he begins to pound into you, fucking you hard and deep, marking you, claiming you. 
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, baby. Why would I want someone else when I have you, huh?” Ari growls, holding your tiny body down as he destroys you, taking you apart underneath him. His cock splits you open, drilling into you until you wither underneath him, your back arches, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as your arousal squirts out of you and covers him. “Yeah, that’s right, baby. Squirt for daddy.” Ari’s hand slithers between you and plays with your swollen clit, prolonging your orgasm. His balls tighten, and his cock begins to twitch wildly before thick amounts of cum spurt out of him and deep into you, stuffing you full of him. “Gonna pump you full of me, let everyone know your mine, and I’m yours as your round with my child.” You whimper underneath him, cumming at his words. 
Ari leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips, holding you close to him as he strokes your cheek. “I love you so much, baby. You’re my little doll.”
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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mavsstar · 11 months
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𝑀𝑦 𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑃𝑒𝑎
Summary ︱Mr. Levinson lives right next door to you, the sweet, innocent college girl. Little do you know that you're Mr. Levinson's favorite neighbor. He's there every chance you need the slightest of help, maybe a little too much.
Pairings︱Mechanic!Ari Levinson x Innocent!Fem!Reader, Robert Pronge x Innocent!Fem!Reader
W.C︱4k
Warnings︱18+ MINORS DNI, Trailer Park AU, it's pretty tame for right now, pet names (Sweet Pea),cursing, reader is scared of Pronge, masturbation (m!) and I think that is all the warnings. Let me know if I missed any!
Author's note︱I am very excited for this series :) This is set around the 90s just because I feel like it fits better with the idea I have going on in my head. It has been awhile since I've written anything so I'm hoping it's not too terrible. I hope you will enjoy this! Feedback is appreciated! Follow my side blog and turn on post notifications :D
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“Did you see Mr. Levinson today?” your Mother’s friend, Valerie, asked while wiggling her eyebrows. 
“Nope,” you instantly responded. “Have you?” 
“Already got my dose of that sexy man.” She smirked while winking at you. 
Ari Levinson towered everyone he’s ever met. He stood at a proud 6'6. It was hard to miss the luscious brown locks that fell over his face and the cerulean blue eyes that you could never find your way out of. His beard adorned his jaw and hid the pump rose colored lips he held.
Even when he was doused in motor oil and dirt he was still a beautiful man. He was your neighbor and very well known at the trailer park. Ari was a woman’s walking wet dream come to life. 
“He’s already up?” you asked as your eyes bulged out of your head. “It’s like 6 in the morning.” 
“Of course he’s up, he’s having his morning coffee.” 
You rolled your eyes playfully. “Only you would know that stalker.”
“It’s not stalking Y/N, it's called being an astute observer,” she retorted. “That’s besides the point, shouldn’t you be heading out by now?” 
“I should be but…” you started to answer, looking out the window cautiously, “I have a feeling you know who is outside.”
“If you don’t leave now you’ll be late for work which by the way is in 20 minutes,” she reminded you, pointing towards the clock. 
“Please don’t remind me.” You internally groaned as you threw your head back and rubbed your eyes. 
After a few moments you finally decided to lift yourself from the couch and head your way out. Goosebumps arose on your arms as you opened the front door. You hated this kind of weather, you couldn’t be without a sweater in the morning but by 3pm you’d be sweating like a dog. You shrugged on your brother's jacket, not bothering to zip it up and closed the front door.
Just as you predicted, the person you dreaded seeing most was standing right outside, Mr. Pronge. 
Robert Pronge was your neighbor and lived right across from you. Ever since you moved in he formed the bad habit of staring at you and hitting on you like there’s no tomorrow. From what you heard he was a sick sadistic bastard who liked to torture girls with pleasure. He’s had many lovers enter the trailer but seemingly none of them come back.  
You didn’t like the way he makes you feel. It felt like a hungry lion stalking its predator, ready to pounce at any moment’s notice. At the same time you couldn’t help but feel hot. Everytime he was near you, your heart raced from the fear and you felt a pulse in between your legs. 
“Morning Princess!” Mr. Pronge called out from his front lawn.
“Good morning Mr. Pronge!” You greeted back but only to be polite. You tried to avoid looking too much at him and instead looked towards the ground. 
You heard shoes beating against the ground and you prayed with all your heart that it was someone else running. Luck was not on your side that morning. When you looked up it was the one and only Mr. Pronge. 
“Where are you going Princess?” he asked. His breath was minty fresh even though his appearance would say otherwise. 
“To work,” you bluntly replied, trying to open your car door. 
“Aw Princess, don’t be like that,” he cooed. Once you did get your car door open, he immediately slammed it closed, almost smashing your finger in the process. “I’ll give you a ride. Come on, let's go.” 
“I appreciate the offer Mr. Pronge but I can take myself,” you insisted while attempting to reopen your car door. 
“Princess…” he warningly said.
Mr. Pronge didn’t like it when people told him no. The word no did not exist in his world. 
“I said I’ll give you a ride.” 
“Leave her alone Robert!” Ari yelled from his porch, causing the both of you to turn around. “She’s probably late for work!” 
Mr. Pronge sighed as he stepped back in defeat. “I’ll take you next time Princess.” 
You internally groaned at his comment. He could never leave you alone. Every morning he would play this game with you. On the bright side, you were one of the very few people allowed to tell him no and get away with it. 
“Thank you Mr. Levinson!” you yelled as you got in the car. 
“Anytime!” Ari walked over to Robert after you drove off. Though his eyes never peeled off from you the entire time. 
“You’re always in my way,” Robert playfully commented. 
Ari chuckled at the jab. Ari always had to save you from him every morning without fail. “Rob, how many times have I told you to leave the poor girl alone?” He asked as he brought his cup of coffee to his lips. 
“I will never leave her alone,” he answered with a proud smirk. “Not until I make her mine.” 
“Oh please! You’re old!” Ari jabbed at him. “She’s going to want a hot 20 year old guy not some 40 year old.” 
“Her father was not present in her life.” 
“What does that have to do with anything?!” Ari asked, confused at Robert’s statement.
“The girl has major daddy issues, Ari,” Robert said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “All I gotta do is caress her a bit, say sweet nothings in her ear and bam! She will fall in love with me.”
“Do that and she will call the cops on you.” 
“I’d like to see her try,” Robert remarked as he crossed his arms across his chest. “Besides, why do you care?” 
“Because her mother is really starting to get concerned and-” 
“Oh that's why you’re concerned!” Robert hooted. “You want to fuck the mom!” 
“I do not want to have sex with her mom,” Ari declared with a serious tone. “The woman is stressed enough and I feel bad for her and I feel bad for the girl. I see her peek her head out of the door every morning to avoid you.” 
“Ari?” 
“Yes Rob?” 
“Mind your business.” 
The following morning was the same dreadful routine. You were trying to stall, not wanting to face Mr. Pronge though you knew he would be there. He always was. Even when you would try to leave at an earlier time. It’s like he would sleep there and wait for you. 
 Your mother shoved your car keys in your hand. “Sweetie, you need to go now before you’re late.”
“But what if he’s out there?” you asked with a slight hint of fear. 
“Is he still bothering you?!” she questioned, her overprotectiveness coming out. “I’ve had enough, I’m going out there.” 
“No! No! No!” you instantly said, jolting your hands out to stop her from taking another step. “Please don’t say anything. Mom please!” 
Your pleads were granted. She stayed still as she squinted at the window, sending a silent threat to Mr. Pronge.
“Fine,” she said. “But If I hear or even get the feeling, I’m going to rip his nutsack and his stupid smirk off of him.” 
“Wow,” you said with your eyes bulging out in shock.
“Sweetie, you’re too nice and a little bit–how can I put this?” she sarcastically questioned herself as she tilted her head to the side. “Oh yeah, you’re naive.” 
“I am not naive,” you muttered under your breath, offended. 
“Yes you are,” she said as she was walking out of the living room. “Now go to work!” 
You grabbed your bag from the couch and swung it over your shoulder. Your hand went on the doorknob, turning it to open the door. You peek your head out to see if you’re one and only was out there waiting for you. 
“He’s not there Sweet Pea!” Ari exclaimed. “You’re safe, you can come out!” 
“Thanks!” you yelled from the door, fully stepping out. You confidently walked over to your car, happy Mr. Pronge wasn’t outside to terrorize you. Your happiness was soon cut off when you saw a complete flat tire. 
“Dang it!” you cursed to yourself. You peered down at your watch, it was 6:41 A.M. You were trying to calculate how much time it would take to go on the bus and you heard the dreadful sound of boots hitting the road. 
“Oh no,” you internally whined. 
“Got a flat, Princess?” Mr. Pronge sarcastically asked. “I’ll give you a ride.”
Ari quickly stepped in. “Robert no.” You didn’t even hear him walk over to you. You looked at Ari in shock and sent a cry for help at the same time. “Leave her alone.” 
“She needs a ride, I’m giving her a ride. What is the problem?” he challenged, taking a step closer to him. 
“You’re not taking her.” 
Robert straightened his back and puffed his chest out. “And why not?” 
“Because I’m taking her. She was just getting something from her car.” Ari grabbed your bag from your hand and placed his hand on your lower back. “Lets go Sweet Pea,” he said as he guided you to his car, opening the door for you and handing you back your bag. 
Robert stood in shock. Ari was taking you. And you let him. Though he couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed, he was just wondering how he did it. That lucky bastard. 
The inside of his truck was bigger than you ever imagined. It was dirty and there were oil stains everywhere you looked. Wrenches were scattered across the floor along with bolts and lug nuts. The only thing that was almost impeccable was the air freshener hanging off the rearview mirror but there were five oil stained fingerprints on it.
“Thank you for the ride Mr. Levinson, you didn’t have to take me. I could've taken the bus.” 
“Don’t even mention it Sweet Pea,” Ari said. “Plus I don’t think you wanted to ride with Rob now did you?” 
“No,” you answered as you shook your head. “He scares me.” 
“He scares you?” Ari repeated, barely shocked. 
“Mhm,” you confirmed with a small hum. “He’s really big and mean. Everyone says he’s the nicest to me and if that’s true I don’t want to see him when he’s mad.” 
“It’s true, he’s the nicest to you.” Ari found it weird when Robert wouldn’t constantly yell at you like he did with other people but he can see why. You’re the sweetest thing ever.
“Is that all?” 
“Mr. Pronge used to bring women and–and they would come out screaming and crying. It frightened me.” 
Robert used to bring women over all the time. They wouldn’t last for too long. They would run out of the house screaming all kinds of profanities after 3 weeks. You’ll never forget the moment a woman came to your house and asked if you had anything sharp. You gave her one of the knives from the kitchen. 5 minutes later the word asshole was embedded on the side of his car in big, bold letters. 
You’ll also never forget the time another woman came to your trailer. She screamed while she banged on the door like a madman. When you opened the door she had red hand prints on her body and a barely carved ‘R’ on her exposed hip. She asked you to hide her because he was coming. Sure enough a minute later Mr. Pronge came, demanding you to show him where she was hiding. Luckily your brother was there to kick him out.
He could see why you were scared. Hell even that scared him a couple of times. For some reason Ari didn’t like the thought of you being scared. Hell, he could barely deal with the fact how uncomfortable Mr. Pronge made you. 
When you approached the building Ari parked the car and exited out, lightly jogging over to your side and opening your door for you. He held out his hand to you to help you out of the truck, your hand delicately gripped his and he could feel the rush of dopamine releasing in his body. 
“Thank you again Mr. Levinson!” you beamed with a bright smile. You raised yourself on your tippy toes and slightly bounced to place a thank you kiss on his cheek. 
An unexplainable warmth rushed through him. The action was short and sweet but it made him feel weak in the knees. He would get cheek kisses from women quite a lot but it never felt like this. 
“Anytime Sweet Pea.” He felt himself staring at your eyes for a little bit too long. He forced himself to look anywhere else for a brief second, making sure you didn’t grow uncomfortable. “What time do you want me to pick you up?” 
“Oh it’s okay Mr. Levinson, I can take the bus or have my brother pick me up.” 
“Are you sure?” he asked you again. 
You nodded your head. “Thank you again! You’re a lifesaver.” 
“Don’t even mention it,” he waves off. 
You muttered a small goodbye to Mr. Levinson before taking off into the diner. He watched you go in with a small smile on his face.
 Even though this was your first real interaction, he knew he wasn’t going to get enough of you. You were the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. The whole way back he thought of you. You were like a deadly plague in his mind. A beautiful, rose scented, warm plague. 
Luckily your brother was able to pick you up after he got off of work. The next bus was going to come within another hour. When your brother picked you up, he was agitated. 
“What happened to your tire?” your older brother asked, not amused at all.
“I don’t know.” You shrugged your shoulders. “I went outside this morning and it had a flat.” 
“I helped Mr. Levinson changed the tire, it had 4 nails,” he said in a matter of fact one. “4.” he repeated as he held four fingers in the air. 
“I’m sorry,” you weakly apologized. 
“You need to pay more attention where you’re driving.”  
“I didn’t mean to drive over the nails. There weren’t even any when I drove yesterday!” you protested. “I only drove to the library which is 2 minutes away.” 
“So they magically appeared?” he sarcastically asked. “Just pay attention please.” 
“I will.” 
“You left your bus pass on the table this morning. How did you get to work? ” he questioned you. “Mr. Pronge didn’t take you, did he?” He turned to glance at you with a worried look. 
“No, Mr. Levinson did,” you told your brother.
“Did you make it on time?” He quickly glanced at you again, “because you are horrible at giving directions.” 
“Hey!” you barked at him. “I am not horrible at giving directions.” 
“Yes you are.” 
“Well lucky for me I didn’t even have to tell him, he already knew where to go,” you responded, “sure did save me the hassle.” 
“Did you thank him?” 
“Of course I did, I’m not rude,” you responded, half hurt he would think that of you. 
The rest of the ride was short but your brother took the remaining 4 minute drive to lecture you once again to pay attention. You tried to zone him out but he would snap at you, telling you to listen. You knew he did it to annoy you, it was simply too easy to annoy you. 
When you arrived at home, you jumped out of the car to look at the tire. Sure you had no idea what you were even looking at but it never hurt. You bent down to look at it and you noticed one thing. It wasn’t patched up like before. It was brand new. 
“Are you coming in?” your brother asked you. 
You turned to look at him. “Yeah, I just have to do something really quick.” 
“Don’t take too long, I’ll be done cooking in 10 minutes.” 
“I promise,” you told him before he went inside. 
You took out a sticky note, a pen and 50 dollars that took you 4 days to earn. You used the hood of your car as a desk and wrote a sweet but short thank you on the sticky note. Afterwards you walked over to his house and placed it under the surprisingly alive flower pot he had on his front porch. 
The both of you didn’t see each other for almost 2 days. You got overwhelmed with work that you barely were in the house. It wasn’t until Ari caught you late at the laundromat. 
“Sweet Pea?”
You turned around at the sound of your name. “Oh hi Mr. Levinson,” you greeted him with a huge smile. 
“What are you doing here so late?” he asked you though he could barely pay any attention to you at the moment. You wore a thin pastel pink cardigan with a pearly white nightgown that had a bow at the valley of your breasts.
“I forgot to do my laundry this morning and I didn’t have time so I came here after work,” you told him. 
“Isn’t it a little late to be working?” he questioned you. 
“I’ve been picking up other shifts at work,” you said, “it doesn’t help having the extra money.” 
“Speaking of money,” he began to say as he took out the fifty you gave him from his front pocket of his flannel, “you left this on my porch.” 
“Yeah it’s for you,” you innocently said, “I noticed the tire is brand new and I’m 90% sure my brother forgot to pay you.” 
“It’s your money, I’m not taking it. Here.” He passed the money back to you but you refused. 
“Keep it, you changed my tire and I’m paying you for your service.” 
“I really can’t—” 
“Please,” you begged him with puppy eyes. 
You pulled at his heartstrings. It agonized him, he didn’t want to take your money but he also didn’t want to make you sad. But he kept it anyway and stuffed it back into the front pocket of his flannel. 
“What are you doing here so late?” you asked him as you bent down and took out your now dry clothes. 
His eyes peered down for a quick second and he saw the nightgown riding up, revealing your baby blue panties. His throat went dry and he fought hard to keep his gaze up but it found itself looking back down. 
“I–I realized I forgot to wash my work clothes.” 
“I hate when that happens.” You came back up after you pulled out the last piece of clothing. “Then I’m stuck getting yelled at by the manager when I come in with the wrong clothes.” 
Ari chuckled to avoid an awkward silence. Really it was to refrain himself from stuttering or making a fool out of himself. In his head he wanted to compliment you and how pretty your nightgown was but the words wouldn’t leave the tip of his tongue. 
He took a deep breath before he spoke. “You look pretty in your nightgown,” he quickly muttered out. 
Your eyes lit up at his compliment. “Thank you Mr. Levinson. It’s pretty but I don’t think I’ll keep it.” 
“Why’s that?” 
“It always rides up and by morning it’s all the way up here,” you pointed to your upper stomach.
Oh what he would give to be a fly in the room in the morning. He quickly changed the conversation, it was obvious you were too oblivious to what you were doing to him. Your sweet voice and innocence were driving him insane but he loved it, he secretly wanted more. 
The both of you left the laundromat 40 minutes later. He insisted on carrying your basket for you. You both walked side by side. You were busy trying to keep up with him while he was busy looking down at your breasts. 
“Thank you for carrying my basket Mr. Levinson,” you thanked him as you took your basket from him when you got to your front porch.
“Anytime Sweet Pea.”
You kissed his cheek once again to seal your thank you. “Sweet dreams Mr. Levinson.”
“Sweet dreams honey,” he repeated to you. 
Ari was in a rush to get back to his trailer but a dear beloved friend was waiting for him. 
“Well would you look at that?” Robert sarcastically asked him. “She gave you a kiss on the cheek.” 
“Not now Robert,” Ari pleaded, dying to get back into his place. 
“What’s the big rush to get back home?” Robert crossed his arms as he smirked, “I see you’re sporting a hard on. Surely it can’t be because of her. Right?” 
“Oh shut your trap.” 
“It is, isn't it?!” he gawked. 
“No it’s not!” Ari protested. 
“Oh really?” Robert Challenged as he squinted his eyes.
“I was about to get lucky with Kim before she came into the laundromat and interrupted us,” Ari quickly lied. 
“So you waited for her to be done then walked her back?” Robert questioned Ari. 
“Of course I did,” he scoffed, “otherwise she would’ve ran into you. Not to mention she’s terrified of you, fuckin’ creep.” 
“Whatever. She wants me, I know it,” Robert boasted. 
“Yeah in jail.” 
Robert rolled his eyes and walked back to his trailer while Ari walked back into his. He immediately locked the door behind him and dropped the basket on the floor. 
“Oh thank god,” Ari hissed as he unzipped his painfully tight pants. 
His cock was rock hard and had been for the past 20 minutes. The pants barely gave him any friction and if anything, made it worse. He palmed himself through his boxers and moaned in relief. 
All he can think about is you in the short nightgown and how he’s never been this hard before. Sure he’s been turned on but it was nothing compared to this. It was like he was a horny spazzy teenager all over again. 
He freed his cock from his boxers and sharply inhaled at the impact of the cold air. The tip of his cock was bright red and oozing with precum. He used his thumb to spread his precum and use it as lube.  
His eyes screwed shut in bliss when he began pumping up and down. He tried to think of the porn he watched three days ago but instead you kept popping up. He imagined you being here with him, helping him out. 
“Does that hurt?” you ask him as you point to his angry, leaking cock. 
“It does Sweet Pea,” he rasped out. 
“Was it because of me?” you innocently ask him as you bat your lashes. 
“Yes,” he admits. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you apologize to him. “Let me help you,” you tell him as you take his cock into your tiny, warm hand. 
“Oh Sweet Pea,” he moans out. 
“You’re s-so bi-big,” you sputter out, slowly pumping him up and down. “Does that feel better?”
He doesn’t have the strength to talk so instead he nods eagerly. “G-Go a little bit faster.”
You obey him and start pumping faster. His moans fill the room as he gets lost in the pleasure you’re giving him. Your hand is cramping but you don’t care, anything to make him feel good. 
“Sweet Pea, I-I’m about to cum,” he warns you. 
You get down on your knees while you still pump him. “Let it all go,” you seductively say as you open your mouth. 
Ari was brought back to reality when his high overtook him and he orgasmed. It was so intense his thighs started to shake. He continued pumping and pumping until he got too sensitive he had to stop.
He stood there with his cum dripping down his hand and secretly wishing you were there to help clean it all up. The realization had hit him hard, he needed you.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 7 months
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I still got a few rounds left in me
kinktober, day thirteen
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a/n: ...i have such a thing for fighters, it's bad....
warnings: boxer!steve rogers x reader, smut, established relationship, domestic bliss, kissing, foreplay, bathtub sex
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023
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You felt like a little marshmallow floating atop a warm mug of hot chocolate as you laid there in the tub, staring out at the dark skyline. The melody of soft rain drizzling against the window lulled you even further as your hand lazily played with the bubbles foaming at the surface. 
“Hey,” you suddenly heard, spinning your head around to spot your burly boyfriend gazing at your relaxed visage from the doorway, raindrop-painted gym clothes still hugging his form. 
“Steve,” you gasped, spine straightening, “you’re home! I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Yeah, well, I thought you would be asleep already, so I tried to be quiet.”
“In a bit, I just wanted to wash the day away first, you know?” you sighed, “fall back down to earth before I try and fall asleep…” Offering you a gentle nod, he then stepped further into the bathroom, a soft smile still fast on his lips as he began to peel his clothes off. You couldn’t help but giggly ask, “what are you doing?” as the fighter slowly revealed more and more of his rippling physique, his eyes staying locked with yours the entire time. 
“Well, I was gonna take a shower,” his shorts hit the floor mere seconds before he planted his palms on either side of the tub, “but you’re making that bath look so good.” 
As he lowered himself in, your giggle morphed into a laugh as the bubbles began to make a run for it, “you’re gonna flood the entire bathroom!”
“Then it’s a good thing we have something called towels,” fully submerged, he simply leaned in to kiss you. 
Arms wrapping around his broad shoulders, the current scooped you a bit closer, your legs intuitively entangling up and over his thick thighs. As your hands drifted over his skin, your fingers paused and took time to dig into a few of the muscles on his upper back. Parting from the tender peck, you deepened your massage momentarily as you asked, “are you sore?”
With his own arms tangled around you, he murmured, “not really, I didn’t really go too hard today,” before he lifted you further up onto his lap, his broad palm firm on your back so that your chest pressed flush against his, making your soapy tits share their suds. 
It took you approximately two seconds before you noticed the raging hard-on, poking you under the water, “oh my god…” you chuckled, tilting your chin back as you gazed at his smirk, “what are you trying to do, huh, champ?”
His hands slowly raked down your back before they found the curve of your ass, squeezing it in a way that shot directly to your aching clit, “like I said, I didn’t go too hard today, so I still got a few rounds left in me…”
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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georgiapeach30513 · 9 months
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I Can See You
Summary:  Steve was new to this modern world.  And trying to figure out the technology and all he wanted was home.  Looking up 1940s women, he wasn’t prepared for what he sees.  You. Feeding into his every fantasy, and then some. It becomes an obsession a need to see you everyday. To have you everyday. To keep you. Every. Day. In his bed. Just where you belong
Pairings:  Steve Rogers X Cam Girl!Reader
Rating:  Explicit
Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, online sex work, cam girl, masturbation, toy play, butt plug, squirting, licking, kidnapping, obsession, dark, 18+ ONLY
Word Count:  2K 
Steve Rogers Masterlist
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“You should date,” Steve turns to look towards Natasha, glowering at her.  “What?  Dating is normal.  What do you have against dating?”
“Dating is different now than it was when…never mind you wouldn’t understand,” he goes to stand, but Natasha pulls at his arm, “What?”
“I get it.  The women now aren’t like the women in the 1940s, but is that a bad thing?  Look, Google is your friend.  I’m sure there’s someone out there who believes in your weird standards for women.  Guess what, Steve?  Some even wear the clothes, too.  Google is your friend.”
Google is your friend.  A sentiment that was running through Steve’s mind the rest of the day.  Google is a friend.  Was a friend?  How could a search engine be a friend?  How could he find anything that was remotely close to the 1940s in modern times.  How could he ever find someone that held his values, and how would he know?
Settling in at home, his eyes scan over the stupid phone.  Who needed a phone that could do anything more than call people.  But there was a Google on there.  Women of today weren’t hideous creatures, but there was something in the ones that he had met.  They weren’t…exactly what he was looking for.  Too eager and leaving nothing to the imagination.
Google is your friend, but it was just a stupid machine.  Nothing ever made sense in this time.  People had taken something simple and made it nonsensically more difficult.  And for what reason?  But there the phone sits, and if Google was a friend, how could it help Steve?
What could a machine possibly do for Steve? How could it help his need to get out some frustrations? Things weren’t the same, and they definitely didn’t look the same. But he was told Google had archived photos. And videos…
Reaching quickly to the phone, but only because he was bored, and everyone needed to get off from time to time. His fingers search for the buttons he’s looking for before he hits search. Anticipating it would take much longer than the instant gratification of women upon women, and then a short clip.  Legs that were covered in hosiery, and a quick squat of the woman.  Her skirt flares up, exposing her bum to Steve.
He watches that clip way too many times before clicking on it.  Taking him straight to your website.  Pictures of you dressed in the most beautiful 1940s frocks, and posing with the prettiest smile and brightest red lips.  Unfairly there are some photos with strategically placed blocks over your body.  A button demands him to click it, and there’s even more photos.
Still these photos are annoyingly blocked out, but adding a credit card he would have access to remove them.  Steve sets his phone down, taking a deep breath.  His cock was pressing hard against his pants at just the tease of your body.  He knew what he was going to get.  You.  Every part of you.  Playing into his every fantasy while you whimpered his name.
Standing up, he awkwardly paces his living room.  He wants to see it all.  It was like you catered to just him.  What could thirty dollars a month hurt.  He would get to wake up to see you.  Go to bed stroking his cock.  It wouldn’t hurt.  It wouldn't be a distraction.  This is what he needed.
He doesn’t hesitate to put in his credit card information, and he hears the sound of your voice, “Welcome, Soldier,” why did that sound so sexy?  Not even knowing what some of the buttons mean, he just wants to look at you.  You are a dirty girl.  Showing every part of yourself, and watching you ride a red dildo while your tits bounce around has him quaking where he sits.
A ping in the corner of his phone makes him lose focus, ‘Thanks for the payment.  What would you like me to call you?’
He couldn’t let people know that America’s golden boy was watching fetish porn, and a very specific fetish of a 1940s housewife.  ‘Captain.’
‘Hey, Captain, are you new around here?’
‘Yes.  Brand new.’
‘Aww, for new subscribers I always give them a private video.  What would you like to see, Captain?  Whatever it is you want.  For your eyes only.’
‘How often do I get private videos?’
‘First one is free.’
‘I want one every morning and evening.’
‘Oh, Captain, you are a naughty boy,’ Steve’s cock trembles at your words.  He just wishes he could hear your voice.  ‘I tell you what Captain, let me do the first one, and you can decide after if you want to continue our private little conversations.  How does that sound, big boy?’
‘Yeah, okay.’
‘Are you hard right now?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you want to see my pussy?  I can show you what toys I have.’
‘Okay,’ he takes a deep breath as his chat turns into a live video feed, and there your pretty face was.  Giving him a quick wave before turning the camera to your treasure trove of toys.
“Which will it be, Captain?  Can I turn your mic on so I can hear you?  I get off to men with pretty sounds?” Responding with a yes, you turn on his mic, letting him look at every toy.  They were all shapes, but one particularly caught his eyes.  
“That one,” it wasn’t a genius to figure out which one he was talking about.  The red white and blue one.  With a name like Captain, he seemed to have a bit of a Captain America kink.
“I have something else that matches,” you sweetly tell him.  Moving over to something Steve had early heard about.  A pretty little butt plug with his shield on the end.  “You want to see me stuffed fully, Captain?”
“I would like that,” his voice cracks, and you realize just how innocent he is to this brand of porn.
“Is it because you like sharing your dames?” Steve groans out yes as you position the phone on a tripod.  “Who would you share me with?”
“A friend.  He…he’d get your ass.”
“Oh, yeah?” You ask as you stuff the plug into your ass.  You were sure he’d love seeing you ready for him.  Coming back into frame, you place the dildo on the floor, and turn to look at him.  “What would you like your doll to do, Captain?” Finger in your mouth, you playfully tease him.  
He would love to take his time and watch you more carefully, but his cock is angry and in desperate need of release.  “I want to see…see you…I want,” the sweet boy was struggling with what he wanted to view.  Stuttering, and unable to vocalize exactly what it was he needed.
“You want me to slowly,” you undo each button carefully.  Steve didn’t want slow.  Steve wanted to fuck you.  This would work for now.  But…
“No.  Not slow.  Put…I want to see the shield.”
“Of course you do, Captain,” it was like the angels parted the clouds, and there was heaven right in your tits.  Taking off your bra, you give your nipples a little pinch before walking over to the toy.  
“Don’t wait,” he mutters as you move to your knees.  He tries to pretend it's his cock you’re grabbing as you sink over the cock.  It wasn’t the perfect view, but he sees that red, white, and blue cock split you open.  A little glimpse of that shield in your ass.  
Hands in front of you, you lean forward, and there it was.  That shield in your ass.  “Fuck yourself.  And turn back to look at me,” peeking over your shoulder you give him a sly grin.  Moving over the toy.
“I hear you, Captain.  How good does my pussy feel?”
“So good,” he grunts out, pumping his fist around his cock.  Why had he neglected to do this for so long.  “My pussy.”
“Yes, Captain.  This pussy is all yours.”
“Mine.”
“It’s so warm, and wet, and…how tight is your pussy?”
It’d be tighter once he had someone to stuff your ass.  Get to watch you come over two cocks, while you beg for him to pet you.  “Oh, Captain, you feel so good.”
He’d feel better if that was his actual cock.  “Captain, you’re so deep.”
That cock was nothing to Steve’s size.  He would make you have tears in your eyes as you took every bit of his length and girth.  “Captain, I love the way you feel when you’re in my stomach. You’re so deep,” you give a smirk to the camera as your juices spill onto the floor.
“Oops,” giggling.  The giggles.  The mess.  “I made such a mess for you, Captain.  You got me so wet.”
“Yeah.  Go harder.  Make your Captain proud,” your ass cheeks recoil as you bounce fast.  Stretched out so pretty, and still spurting your mess into the floor.  He’d have to spank you for being such a sloppy little slut.  Make you watch Bucky’s tongue lap up all your mess.  
Your cream coats that dildo, and he knows you are capable of so much more.  “Captain!”
“Don’t you dare stop,” he growls, choking on his cock.  He was almost there.  Could practically feel your walls clench around him.
“Captain!”
“I know.  Be a good girl, and come,” you scream out as euphoria shoots down to your nether regions.  Wishing that he could choke you in that moment.  There weren't too many things you hadn’t experienced in this line of work.  But there was this demanding quality to this Captain.  
“Now, be good for Captain, and clean up your mess.  With your tongue,” you want to scream.  That is the hottest shit you have ever heard.  Demanding that you clean up your own mess.  “I’d have someone help you.”
“You want someone to come play with me?”
“Yeah, but they’ll leave.  You have to let your Captain take care of you.”
“And Captain always takes the best care with his pussy, too.”
“Mine,” he lets the word roll off his tongue, while you licks up your arousal.  His.  All.  His.
——
Opening up your apartment door, you stand at the entrance for far too long.  There were roses on the table.  A dozen roses from the looks of it.  Steve was becoming steadily more needy.  Wanting to monopolize your time so you couldn’t find new clients.  It was fine at first, until he became too obsessive.
Playful possession had turned into something he in fact demanded.  You look down the hallway of your complex, unsure if you wanted to go in.  This was a job that was for extra money, and Steve had made it clear he demanded you and wanted you when he wanted it.  And now the roses.
Of course those roses could be from anyone, but you knew they weren’t. They were in your fucking apartment.  They were only from one person.  Him.  Captain.  The hall was too quiet.  Just as quiet as your home.  It was like you were the only one in the room.  In the building.
“Steve?” You ask, taking a step back into the hall.  An unfamiliar smell is surrounding you.  Clean.  Fresh.  It was him.  
“Steve?” You tremble.  Ready to bolt.  Anywhere but here.  You had to cut him off.  The money wasn’t even that good.  He had lost his mind.
“Steve?” Yelping when arms wrap around your waist, but his hand covers your mouth gently.  Pressing his nose to your neck, he inhales deeply.  
“Honey, I’m home.  And I expect you to say my name properly.  I can’t have you available to any other men.  Your site has been taken down.  Your apartment will be swept.  All those toys trashed, because you have the real Captain now.  It’ll be like you never existed.  Your new life starts today.  And I’ll make sure you are the perfect housewife for me.  Bear my children, and live to serve me.  Now, be a good girl, and thank your Captain for rescuing you.”
His hand is now wet from the tears that spill onto him, and you try and shake your head no.  “Say, thank you, my Captain.”
“Thank you, my Captain,” you sound like a scared mouse.  And he knows it.  With one  maniacal chuckle he starts dragging you down the hallway.  No one will ever remember you.  No one will ever rescue you.  You are now his.  And he has no intention of letting you go.
Now…thank him.
Masterlist
Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season​ @marveloustaylortot​ @pono-pura-vida​ @sstan-hoe​ @missusbarnes-rogers​ @peaches1958​ @seitmai​ @smile1318​ @andydrysdalerogers​ @cjand10​ @midnightramyeoncravings​ @donutloverxo​ @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​ @bambamwolf87​ @harrysthiccthighss​
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onsunnyside · 1 year
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🍓° 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠
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𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Mafia!Ari Levinson x lovesick!reader
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, sweet soft!reader, she’s a little oblivious. size difference: 6’8!Ari, he’s a total beefy hunk. neighbours au, a little tumble, stripper!reader, brief mentions of mafia business, undeniable daddy energy.
𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | It was a little ridiculous how in love you were… With a single glance, he could make you melt until you’re a pile strawberry ice cream, tied with a pretty ribbon, and sitting on his doorstep.
𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑
𝗪/𝗖 | 2.45K
𝗔/𝗡 | just a little something I wrote inspired by Melting by Kali Uchis (also where the title is from). this is my first mafia fic but there isn’t much detail since this is a real itty bitty au. as always, all mistakes are my own. [all posts/asks]
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Time seems to slow when he jogs by, clad in shorts and a loose tank top with sweat seeping through the grey. His tan skin is covered in a light sheen, making the dozens of tattoos appear darker. From your seat on the porch, they still look like black blobs and lines stretching from his broad shoulders to his hands. 
You’ve never seen them up close, but you have a few ideas of what they might be—a whole page in your diary to be exact. 
Your eyes fall to his muscled legs, firm and thick thighs strain his shorts and just the beginnings of dark ink poke from underneath the fabric. You barely notice the ice cream melting down the cone to your hands, too deep in a daze when tingles blossom from your chest to your toes. A dreamy sigh flows from your lips as the wind flutters through his long brown hair, brushing along his bearded cheeks. 
He turns to you and flashes a bright smile before turning the corner and disappearing down the street. That single glance makes your heart pound ten times faster, and all of your thoughts tangle into one ball of ribbons, varying in colours, prints and lace, but so evidently you. 
If you could, you’d gift him that mess just so he could know how much he affected you without even trying. 
"Oh no!" You quickly wipe your hands from the melting strawberry ice cream but it's useless, the pink stains your white dress and drips down to the ribbon around your ankle. 
It’s almost too symbolic—the pretty pink bleeds all over your ivory clothes, ruining your life just like the fluttering trapped in your rib cage. 
Honestly, it would’ve been easier to hate him, but he was so damn big that you didn’t have any space left in your heart to hate him. 
To say you're in love would be an understatement. In every fantasy and daydream, he's the main focus, your co-star, your lover, your saviour draped in silk button-ups and silver rings. Oh, he's everything you've ever wanted! As if you manifested him when you were a young child and wrote about the perfect boy to sweep you off your feet and make your life a living fairytale—everything you scribbled in glittery pen has come true before your very eyes.
You don’t even mind that he and his biker friends rev their engines at three in the morning, but your roommate doesn’t agree, she’s never agreed. 
The front door slams shut and you stiffen, hurriedly flipping through a random page in a magazine and desperately trying to act like you were not staring at his house next door. 
"Did you do it?"
"Do what?" You ask, voice already on edge. Vibrant red hair comes into your peripherals, as well as a pair of angry green eyes. 
Natasha groans, setting down her bag on the kitchen counter. "You chickened out again? I need my sleep before I lose my mind. I can’t get any if he and his dumbass friends treat this street like a fucking race track!”
“They aren’t even that loud—and I bought you earplugs.” 
“I am not touching those things until those assholes learn how to be decent human beings!” She rolls up her sleeves and grabs your arm, yanking you from the barstool. 
"Wait! What are you doing!" 
Her heels stomp on the hardwood floor, nearly shaking the picture frames on the walls, “I messed up five drinks today, do you know how bad that looks when they’re my recipes?” She huffs, "he's out there right now mowing his lawn and you're gonna talk to him."
You grab onto the nearest thing which happened to be the couch and clutched it for dear life. “No—you do it!”
"He doesn’t listen to me!" She digs her fingers into your sides making you yelp and feebly swat her away, but you just screwed up big time. “Just try, baby, please! For me!”
That’s the last thing you hear as you stumble out the front door, tripping over the damn welcome mat and tumbling down the stairs. It’s only a few steps, but it stings when your back thumps onto the stone walkway, your poor elbows cushioning your fall.  
You barely catch the engine cutting and rushed footsteps before he appears. 
He stands over you with sweat brimming at his hairline, a deeply concerned expression etched onto his face, "awh shit, are you okay?" 
As always, the air goes thin and you’re under that dumb lovesick spell again. The sun glows around his head like a halo, melting you to the bone, and leaving a mess on the stone in the same shades as your love—strawberry ice-cream pink. 
It’s terrible that you don’t know how deluded your tender heart is.
"You're bleeding," he crouches low, gently examining your elbow, "did your roommate push you down the stairs?” 
"No! No, I-I fell.” Obviously! “But I'm okay." You utter, avoiding the peeping redhead through the curtains. Your gaze lands on his long fingers wrapped around your arm. He’s warm, warmer than you thought. Heat radiates off his body and envelops you like an old friend, familiar and calm. 
"Are you?" He inquires unconvinced, "here, let me clean you up." He leaves no room for protests as he helps you up and leads you to his porch. 
After you sit on the couch, he disappears inside the house before emerging with a large white case. He sits next to you and opens the kit on the table.
"That's a lot of stuff." You note, staring at the packed first aid kit. There are various rolls of gauze, different ointments, and bandages, far more things than your tiny plastic box under the sink. 
Judging by his shiny sports car, and his collection of perfectly tailored suits and watches, Ari lived a very different life than you and you’d do anything to know about it. Your naive heart aches for him so badly it almost hurts. 
“It’s better to be safe than sorry. Can I touch you, sweetheart?” 
You watch him tend to your injury with slow and careful movements, his dark brows knitted in concentration. You’ve never been this close to him, the sudden rush of blood almost makes you lightheaded, but his scent brings you back down. The woody cologne floods your nose, followed by a dash of vanilla with underlinings of musky spice.
“What happened to your other dress?” He glances up, eyes shaded under his thick lashes. 
“Oh… It got dirty.” 
He hums, “what a shame.” He delicately presses down the edges of the bandage. “That’s one of my favourites. It always makes my day to see you wearing it.” 
You swallow down a whimper and clench your thighs, seconds away from dropping to your weak knees. Embarrassment fills your chest, tinged with guilt, “I’m sorry, sir.” The words slip out before you could think.
He cracks a small smile, shaking his head, “it’s okay, just be more careful next time, yeah? Can’t have you ruining the little purple one too, that’s my second favourite.”
Dull thumps hammer inside your head, muffling his raspy voice. You nod silently, digging your sock-clad feet into the concrete. 
You take the chance to memorize his tattoos, from the intricate rose by his wrist following the thorn stems up his arm where they entwined with a heavily shaded skull. Thin script is scattered along his skin, you can’t make out the exact words but they’re in swooping cursive, clinging to his flesh like wet chiffon. 
His arms tighten as he cleans up, the muscles shifting under his paper-thin t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination. Every unconscious flex clouds your head, tunnelling your vision until he’s all you can see.  A small whine sounds from your throat and his eyes flicker to yours, blue as can be. 
“I don’t see you leave very often.” You were either inside or sitting on the front porch with a treat and a magazine, or in the backyard tending to that small garden. “Do you work?”
“I… I did, then I got fired.” The wound was still a little fresh. “But it wasn’t my fault, I swear!”
Ari perks up in interest, although he knows plenty about you, this was strikingly new. Aside from your basic profile, he knew about your past as well, including where you grew up, where your parents lived, and how long you’ve been in this city. 
It was only right to know about the two girls living next to his late grandmother’s house. Curtis insisted since Ari wouldn’t let him stay in the old two-storey home, but instead the house down the street.
He came here to be alone and mourn, but that was hard to do with a cute neighbour always staring at him. Yet he stopped caring after you left a small bouquet of hand-picked flowers on his doorstep and an adorable ‘welcome to the neighbourhood!’ note. 
He forgot how good it felt to be sought after, rather than feared and honoured like a living legend. You gave him that sliver of normalcy with your longing loved-up looks and quick dashes inside when he pulled into the driveway. To you, sweet-spirited you, he was an ordinary guy, not someone with a history coloured in hues of red and dripping all over his shoes, smearing the black ink of his future; an eternity tied to his family’s glory that’s now his. 
“This customer was being so mean and I know I should’ve stayed professional but I was havin’ such a bad day already.” Your bottom lip trembles, flashes of that terrible day flickering through your head, “first I slept through my alarm, then I missed the bus, and my make-up broke in my bag a-and everything was all ruined.”
He reaches out, rubbing your knee soothingly. Poor girl, if it was up to him, you’d never be mistreated. “Where did you work?”
“Venom Vixens.” You sniffle, hoping he isn’t the judgemental type, you’ve known too many people who would humiliate you for your chosen career. “I, uh, I wasn’t one of the girls on stage since I was still new but I liked it there. My coworkers were nice, I got free drinks, and…”
“And?”
“I felt,” you look down at your hands, they were so much smaller than his, “I felt pretty. People go there to look and flirt, and I didn’t mind being on the receiving end of it.” 
Ari wouldn’t mind giving you all of that instead. 
He licks his lips, imagining you in a tiny lace set, the sheer fabric clinging to your figure while you swayed around the dimly lit club. A piece of art in the sea of ogling and drooling patrons, blooming beautifully under the flattery. 
“You liked the attention.” 
You giggle, “Yeah, a lot. Sure, some customers were gross and would say nasty things, but others were nice, real nice—they’d tip a lot and compliment me. Most of them were just lonely, they wanted someone to talk to or someone to spoil.” 
You don’t regret accepting their fawning or expensive gifts, hell, most of your jewelry was from your loyal clients. Sparkly things paired with sweet words were a one-way ticket to your good books. 
“How about your boss?” Ari asks, “how did he treat you?”
Venom Vixens wasn’t only a haven for the lonely or where perverts got their fill, but of course, you wouldn’t know that. You’d have a heart attack if you knew of the shady people who walked in and out of those doors, you’ve probably served a few of them, flashed that bright smile and earned yourself a big tip—unknowingly pocketing the filthy, blood-stained money. 
“Mr. Hansen was very friendly, but everything went through him. If we wanted to change a routine, we had to perform it for him first and get his approval. He said it was protocol.” Ari snorts but you don’t catch it, all too distracted with twisting the ring on his middle finger. “He was nice when you were nice to him.”
“So he must’ve always been kind to you. You’re the loveliest girl I’ve ever met.”
You preen under his praise and nod happily, questioning why you were so nervous around him in the first place.
Ari was a flirt—and you loved being flirted with. 
“Mr. Hansen called me his favourite before he fired me. That was over two weeks ago, and Nat said I could take my time but,” you sigh, “I feel like a bother.” 
He wonders if your best friend would still hate him if she knew he was the reason that her cafe was still standing. Without his ruling over the South district, there would be chaos, and that little joint would’ve been ransacked long ago. 
Did he also call for extra protection because you frequented the establishment? Proudly so. 
“Are you still looking for a job?” He takes your distant hum as a yes, “Do you want to work for me?”
Your head snaps up, your sparkling eyes wide in surprise. 
“I’m opening a new club in a few days and I’ve got a spot left for a performer.” He didn’t, but he had no problem giving someone the boot to make room for you. 
Your mouth opens and closes several times, and the thought of Ari owning a club flies straight over your head. You’ve watched him more than your favourite movie but you still didn’t know a damn thing about him, except that he smokes, liked to work out and alternated between a white mustang and a sleek black motorcycle. 
Oh, and sometimes he changes in front of his bedroom window. 
“You’ll be my boss?”
Say the word, and he’ll be much more than that.
He smirks, gripping your jaw and turning you from side to side, blue eyes flickering over your features, “Sure will. I have a feeling this pretty face will be the main attraction every night.”
Your heart swells when his fingers dig into your cheeks. “I-I would, but Nat won’t like that. She kind of hates you… and your friends.” He adds pressure and your lips pucker, “you’re all s-ho loud wit ya’  bikes ‘n engines.”
Ari bites his tongue, it was either the motorcycles or the blood-curdling screams of the poor soul in the basement. He made a mental note to speed up the process of that soundproof room, he couldn’t have you losing sleep over his business. 
“She doesn’t have to know.” He replies, releasing your face in favour of loosely grasping your throat. Your pulse thumps under his fingers, hard and fast, speeding up as he leans closer, “c’mon, don’t you want to be a star? Get all that attention again and make me proud?”
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As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼
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krirebr · 5 months
Text
More Than This 1
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Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader
Word Count: ~4.1k
Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.
Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, a very brief conversation about the possibility of abuse, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Masterlist
A/N: And here we go! A huge thanks to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me nail down some of the worldbuilding details and @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and especially telling me how to fix the scene that refused to be fixed. You're both the best!!
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜
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It was uncommon to be called to your stepfather’s office. The high rise on the edge of Studio City had housed the heads of his family since the silent film era, give or take a remodel and expansion or five. You’d only been here a handful of times, mostly left out of the family business. When his assistant opened the door for you, you were surprised to see a small group of people, all in expensive business attire, surrounding your stepdad, Joseph Rogers, at his desk. Even more surprising was the figure standing in the corner, staring out the window – your mother. 
“Mom?” you asked, unable to hide your confusion. She just gave you a tight smile in return and turned her attention to her husband.
“Sweetheart,” he called to you. It’s what he’d called you since you’d first met him as a child and it had always felt patronizing and empty. You were well aware that you were an annoyance he’d been saddled with when he’d married your mother for her late first husband’s connections. Eighteen years later, you wished he’d drop the pretense already. “Please, have a seat,” he gestured to the leather chair in front of his large oak desk. 
You sat down across from him. “What’s going on?” you asked, an uneasy feeling building in your gut.
“Congratulations are in order,” he said, smiling at you. “You’re engaged.”
Years of experience at bullshit industry and society parties had you pasting on a benign smile. This was your fourth, no fifth engagement, the first one dating all the way back to when you were 10. They’d all dissolved for one reason or another, the business arrangements at the heart of them disintegrating too. But looking around the room at all the extra people in attendance, you knew better than to dismiss this outright. You were older now. Many of your friends from school had found themselves married as part of business deals in the last few years. Love matches were uncommon in the circles you frequented. There wasn’t much patience for love when this much money was at stake. But still, just because it was expected, that didn’t make you any more ready for your turn. 
“That’s wonderful,” you said, putting all your effort into keeping your tone even. “May I ask whom I’m engaged to?” 
“Ransom Drysdale,” Joseph said. “He’s the grandson of Harlan Thrombey, the mystery writer. We’ve been trying to secure the movie rights to his works for years and this should finally cement it. It’s fantastic news for our family and this studio. The joining of our families should create many opportunities for all of us. Ransom is one of the most eligible bachelors in Boston. You should feel very lucky.”
Lucky was the last thing you felt right now, but you kept your face schooled as you ran through your mental Rolodex to try to figure out if you had any social connections to this man. The fact that he lived on the other side of the country made it less likely but not impossible. 
“So,” he continued, sliding a stack of papers across his desk to you, “all you need to do is sign and initial the contract where it’s marked, and we can get started finalizing the details for the wedding next month.”
At that, all your poise disappeared and the smile dropped off your face. “Next month?”
Joseph nodded. “It’s important to strike while the iron is hot with deals like this. So go ahead and sign so that we can all move on to the next stage.”
Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. This was happening. This one was real. “Shouldn’t I read it first?” you asked, somewhat desperately.
He shook his head, “No need,” he said, gesturing to the man you recognized as one of the family lawyers standing beside him. “Julian has already gone through it with a fine-toothed comb. All of our interests are well represented. It’s all in legalese anyway. Impossible to understand if you aren’t a lawyer.” He chuckled and many of the people standing around the desk, staring at you, joined him. 
“I just–” you stammered. You didn’t know what to do, but you knew you couldn’t pick up that pen.
Irritation bloomed on your stepfather’s face. “Lydia!” he called. 
Your mother stopped staring out the window and stepped up to your chair. “Honey,” she said gently, putting her hand on your back. “This will be such a good thing. And then we can get to all the fun parts of planning the wedding!” She picked up the pen and held it out to you. You took a moment to look at her. Her features were drawn and her eyes looked exhausted. She’d looked that way as long as you could remember. It did nothing to reassure you. 
You glanced at the door behind you. You knew you weren’t getting out of this room without signing the contract. You took a deep breath and took the pen from your mother. There was nothing else to do. No other choice. You quickly flipped through the papers, initialing where indicated and signing the last page. Your hand was shaking so badly you weren’t sure any of it was legible.
When you turned over the last page, Joseph clapped his hands together. “Excellent!” He took a large binder off the desk and passed it over to you. “We’ve put some information together for you on your new fiance. Ransom will be in town next week to take you to dinner so that the two of you can get to know each other. Now, I’m sure you want to go celebrate, so we won’t keep you any longer.”
At the clear dismissal, you stood up. Many people in the room offered their congratulations and you nodded to them, forcing a strained smile. Then you made your way out on shaky legs, needing to see the one person who might be able to help you process what had just happened.
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You’d been six years old when you and your mother had moved into the Rogers mansion. You were terrified, already able to sense Joseph’s indifference towards you. But your comfort during that time, and all the time after, had been his son, Steve. Twelve years old, still reeling from the death of his mother and just as deeply lonely as you, he’d named himself your protector, shielding you from his father’s annoyance and your mother’s sorrow. He guarded you from monsters when you woke up in the middle of the night after a nightmare and would stare down your bullies on the playground. You were very quickly inseparable. 
When you became engaged the first time when you were ten, sixteen-year-old Steve had taken you out for ice cream, telling you not to worry too much, there was so much time before anything would happen and that everything would be ok. When the arrangement had fallen apart, he’d hugged you and whispered in your ear, “See? I’m always right.”
That was the memory you couldn’t stop thinking about as you let yourself into your stepbrother’s apartment, using the key he’d given you on the day he’d moved in. He wasn’t in his front room, so you moved all the way to the back, to the spare room he used as an art studio. You lightly knocked on the doorframe as you entered, trying not to startle him. He was standing with his hands on his hips, staring at a half-finished painting, but looked over his shoulder as soon as he heard you. There was a warm smile on his face, but it dropped as soon as he took in your expression. “What happened?” he asked as you flopped down onto his couch.
“I think I might be really fucked, Steve,” you said quietly, your hands still shaking. You couldn’t get them to stop.
“What happened?” he asked again, more forcefully this time, as he dragged a chair from the corner of the room so that he could sit right across from you.
“Your dad, he–” You stopped and shook your head. Steve’s face darkened. “I’m engaged,” you said with a helpless shrug.
“Okay,” he said evenly. “That might not be the most dire thing. You’ve been engaged before. Nothing ever comes of it.”
You sighed. “They’ve set a date this time.”
“Oh,” was all he could say at first, surprise on his face. “That’s new.”
“Yeah.” you nodded. “A month from now.”
That had Steve sitting up straight. “The hell?!”
“It’s happening this time. I can feel it.”
“Hey, no,” he said, reaching out to touch your arm. “Let me try to talk some sense into him. Buy you some time. He might listen to me.”
You shook your head. “Everything’s already signed. They made me sign. I don’t think there’s any getting out of it.”
“He give you a name?”
“Ransom Drysdale.”
Before he was able to stop himself, Steve grimaced.
“Fuck,” you muttered, briefly covering your face with your hands.
“No, it’s– I’ve only met him once or twice, ok? I don’t actually know anything about him.”
“But you don’t like him.”
“He’s–” Steve paused, clearly trying to find the words that wouldn’t upset you even more, “a strong personality.” He looked at you carefully. “And he’s older than you. Older than me, even.”
“I know,” you sighed, reaching for your bag and taking out the folder. “They gave me this.”
You handed it to Steve and he paged through it. “This is intense. Do you think they gave him one about you?”
You shrugged. “Dunno. Probably. Can’t imagine it says anything interesting.”  
Steve nodded, seriously. “It’s probably pretty thin. Just the story of that time you completely freaked out when you weren’t allowed to bring Mr. BunBun to school with you.”
You grabbed the pillow next to you and hurled it at him. “You’re such a dick!” you laughed. “I’m very upset!”
He batted the pillow back at you and cackled when it hit you in the chest. “He deserves to know the kind of person he’s marrying. The kind who throws a five-alarm tantrum when she’s separated from her stuffed bunny.”
“I was eight, asshole!” You laughed again but then your brain caught on something Steve had said. “Holy shit, he’s marrying me. I’m getting married. I don’t know anything about him. He could be anyone. You don’t even like him! He could hurt me and–” 
“Hey, no!” Steve interrupted quickly. “I might not know much, but I know that. He won’t do that. I’m sure of it. And if he ever even tried, I’d be there so fast. They’d never find his body.”
“Will he be kind to me?” you asked quietly. He opened his mouth to say something, but you stopped him. “Be honest with me. Please.”
He sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Well,” you said, trying so hard not to cry, “I guess at least now we know exactly how your dad feels about me.”
Steve closed his eyes and quietly said your name. When he opened them, there was a resolved look on his face that was painfully familiar. His ‘I’m going to fix this’ face. He was intractable when he got like this. He set his jaw. “I’m going to talk to Dad.”
You shook your head. “Steve.” Your stepfather was just as intractable as his son. This would only result in a shouting match that wouldn’t go anywhere.
“It’s going to be alright,” he said resolutely.
All you could do was say “OK,” with a wan smile, knowing it was a lie. You lay down on the couch and curled up on your side. “Do you mind if I stay here for a bit?”
“Of course not. Lola good on her own for a while?”
You nodded. Your little dog was probably asleep in her kennel. “Yeah, for a while.”
“Do you mind if I keep working on this?” he asked, gesturing to his painting.
“I like watching you paint,” you said, trying to find comfort in the familiarity of something you’d done since you were small.
He stood up and turned back to his easel, and you did your best to focus on watching him paint and not think about how, if this went through, you’d have to move to Boston and you wouldn’t get to have this time with your brother anymore.
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As expected, Steve’s talk with Joseph yielded no results when it came to your future. The only thing it seemed to have any effect on was their own relationship, Steve announcing to you that he was no longer speaking to his father the next time you saw him. You hadn’t expected anything else.
For your part, you spent the next week vacillating between going overboard preparing for your first meeting with Ransom—pouring over your folder on him, making salon appointments, shopping for a dress that would make the right impression—and pretending your problems didn’t exist. As such, the day of the dinner still snuck up on you. You were a nervous wreck. 
The plan was for him to pick you up at your apartment, but an hour before he was supposed to arrive, you got a text from an unfamiliar number telling you to meet him at the restaurant instead. 
So now you sat at the table, alone, in a new dress with your hair done. You’d arrived ten minutes early, and he was now 20 minutes late. You took a deep breath, staring at the empty seat across from you. He would show up. He had to. 
Another ten minutes passed and, as you waived off the server for a third time, you let yourself consider what it would mean if your future husband had stood you up. You should go. It’d be pathetic to stay. And even if he did show up after you’d gone, it’d make a point. Show you had a backbone. You should definitely go.
Just as your hand began to inch toward your handbag on the table, the hostess came through, leading a tall, handsome man to your table. She stopped beside you and then ducked away. The man looked at you critically. He said your name like a question and, when you nodded, he sat down. He didn’t introduce himself, but he could only be Ransom. 
He was dressed nicely in an expensive sweater and slacks, but much more casually than you were and looking around the restaurant than most of the other people there, too. And when he sat down, you could see the places in his sweater where it was threadbare or torn. You tried very hard to not take it as a sign of how he felt about this dinner, felt about you.
You cleared your throat to say something, you weren’t entirely sure what when he glanced at your glass of water. “You don’t drink?”
“No, I do,” you said, but when he smirked you realized how that sounded. “I can,” you amended, but that sounded odd too. “I mean, I don’t have anything against it. I was just waiting for you.”
He snorted. “Well, aren’t you polite?”  His tone made it feel like the worst thing you could possibly be. He flagged down the server and ordered a glass of the Macallan 18, then huffed impatiently while you asked questions about their wine selection. You didn’t know how he could be half an hour late and make you feel bad for taking your time ordering. 
Once you’d finally made your choice and the server left, you tried not to squirm as he gave you a once-over with his eyes. You felt disappointing without really knowing why. You tried to shrug off the feeling, but then Ransom said, “How old even are you?” with scorn in his voice.
You cleared your throat. “Twenty-four,” you tried to say with confidence.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.
You did your best not to shrink in on yourself. Maybe he was just nervous too. It was a weird situation. But, “Didn’t they tell you about me?”
He snorted again and rolled his eyes. “Gave me a whole binder. I never opened it.”
You looked down at your empty place setting, embarrassed. You’d studied every inch of what they’d given you, hoping to show him how seriously you were taking this and he couldn’t care less. “Oh,” was all you were able to say. 
He grinned a little meanly. “You got one too, didn’t you? Don’t tell me you’ve memorized facts about me that you were ready to rattle off to impress me.”
“No,” you growled out. You weren’t going to let him make you feel small just for trying to show interest in the person you were going to have to spend the rest of your life with.
He swiped one hand over his mouth and chin. “My god,” he muttered, “this whole thing is fucking ridiculous.”
The waitress came back and set down your drinks. Ransom immediately took a large gulp of his scotch. You itched to do the same, but you suddenly felt like proving a point. Even if you weren’t entirely sure what that point was. 
You were ready to order, but Ransom hadn’t glanced at his menu yet. Just as you were about to ask for a few more minutes, he said, “Go ahead and bring me another one of these right away,” and gestured with his drink in dismissal. She nodded and left.
Fuck it, you let yourself take a large drink of your wine. “Do you know what you’re going to have?” you asked, nodding to his menu.
He shook his head. “I have dinner plans after this.”
Heat shot through your whole body. “I thought these were the dinner plans.”
He rolled his eyes again. “Getting a head start on the nagging?” he asked, dryly. “Wow, it’s like we’re already married.”
You opened your mouth to do something, you weren’t sure what. Everything in your mind had gone white. But once again, Ransom beat you to it. “Alright, let’s get this done. You’re moving into my house. Fine. But I already have everything we need, so I expect you to pack light. I don’t need your shit cluttering up everything.”
You didn’t know what to say to that. You didn’t know how to have a conversation with him. Someone who left no room for you and seemed not to care at all about anything you had to say. And then there was the voice in your head that kept shouting about how incredibly important this dinner was to the rest of your life. And now it wasn’t even dinner. So when you opened your mouth to speak, what came out was, “I have a dog.”
He stared at you for a moment, seemingly surprised that you’d spoken at all. “What? No. Absolutely not. You’ll have to get rid of it. I hate dogs.”
You didn’t even bother to try to think through the static in your head. “She’s coming with me. I don’t care what else happens, I’m fucking bringing my dog.”
Ransom just narrowed his eyes and stared at you for a moment, then, “Fine. Just keep it away from me. And if it destroys my house, you’re getting rid of it. I’m serious.”  
“She won’t,” you said, as sure of that as anything. “She’s a good girl.”
“Whatever,” he said, as the server returned with his second drink. He slid his empty glass to the end of the table, then said, “The bill,” without looking at her. As she took his empty away, he continued to you, “I don’t know why you want to deal with a dog and a baby, but…” he shrugged.
You just blinked at him, trying to catch up with the massive leap he’d just taken. “Baby? What? Who said anything about a baby?”
He laughed, loudly. “Oh my god, they didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?” you asked, harshly, panic starting to build up in your chest. 
“Of course, they fucking left that to me. There’s a clause in the contract,” he said, “requiring you to get pregnant with my child within the first year.”
You stared over his shoulder, you couldn't look him in the eye, horrified and speechless. You couldn’t breathe. How were you supposed to breathe?
“You seriously didn’t read your own marriage contract?” The judgment in his tone had you shrinking in on yourself. You couldn’t help it.
“They didn’t give me any time,” you said, quietly. “They just made me sign it.”
“And you always do what you’re told, don’t you? Yeah, you look like a good girl.” He said it the same way he’d called you polite when he’d first sat down with you. Like it made you weak. Stupid. You’d never thought so before, but now you wondered if he was right.
“Fuck,” you whispered.
He chuckled humorlessly. “We agree on that,” he said. “This whole thing is fucked.”
At some point, without your notice, the server had returned with Ransom’s card and the receipt. He signed it quickly, then stood up. “Listen, now, at least, we can go back to our parents, tell them we met, chatted, got to know each other. Everything is hunky dory. And then do whatever we want for the next three weeks. Right now, I’m going to try to salvage my night. You go do,” he gestured vaguely at you, “whatever you need to do. I’ll see you at the wedding.”
And then he was gone and you were alone.
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You sat in the back seat of the car on the way back to your apartment, running over every moment of your evening. You kept thinking about the way he’d looked at you, talked to you. A baby. You were supposed to have a baby with him. A child that you’d have to raise. By yourself, judging by how invested in all this he seemed to be. Forty, fifty years of him looking at you like that, talking to you like that. And a baby. You leaned forward and asked the driver to take you to your parents’ house instead. 
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Once you arrived, you said you needed to speak to your stepfather urgently and were shown to his study. You stood in the middle of the room, too anxious to sit down, and waited. Everyone was making you wait tonight. 
Several minutes later, Joseph finally came in. “We weren’t expecting you tonight,” he said. “How did it go?”
You ignored his question, which you guessed was an answer in itself. “Please don’t make me do this,” you pleaded. 
“Sweetheart,” he sighed, disappointed, and moved over to his bar, pouring himself two fingers of decanted whiskey. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“It was. It was awful. He’s– I can’t do this. Please, please don’t make me.” Your voice broke, but you couldn’t be embarrassed about it, not when you were staring down an entire lifetime with him. 
“Everyone gets nervous before their wedding. You’ll be fine. This is important. To all of us.”
“It’s not nerves!” You were close to shouting, suddenly. “You weren’t there. You don’t know. There have to be other families we need things from. It doesn’t have to be this family, does it? It doesn’t have to be right now. Please, please, anything else. I’m begging you, don’t make me marry him, have a child with him.”
He chuckled lightly. “Oh, that’s what this is about. It won’t feel as scary once the baby is here. You’ll make an excellent mother.”
You just stared at him, agape. He wasn’t listening to anything you had to say. “How could you not tell me that was part of the contract? I deserved to know. I wouldn’t have signed!”
His face hardened at that. “You were naive to not expect it. Of course, children are part of this. I admit that the timing is a little fast, but Harlan insisted.”
“Joseph, please listen to me. I can’t. I can’t. Please. If you care about me at all, you won’t make me do this.”
“You’re being ridiculous. It’s done. Everything’s signed. You signed. Now,” he said and took a drink, “it’s getting late. It’s high time you went home. Hopefully, you’ll be able to calm yourself down there.” And then he left the room, ignoring you as your whole world fell apart.
As you left, you passed your mother in the hall. Neither of you said anything.
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When you got home, Steve was waiting for you, having already let himself in, holding Lola in one arm. “How did it go?” he asked seriously. You shook your head and finally let the tears fall. He pulled you into his arms, smushing you against your dog, and gently guided you into your home.
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Part Two
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writing-for-marvel · 1 year
Text
Don’t Get Sad, Get Even
Boyfriend’s Roommate!Ari Levinson x Fem!Reader
Summary: After finding out your boyfriend is cheating on you, you decide to get back at him by sleeping with the one person he was always insecure about throughout your relationship, his roommate.
Prompt: For making me believe that you could be faithful to me - Rihanna, Take a Bow
Warnings: strictly 18+, cheating & revenge sex, use of toys (dildo & vibrator), masturbation, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie
Word count: 2.4k
A/N: this is my entry for my darling friend @flordeamatista’s Loveeeeeee Song Writing Challenge. Banners by @vase-of-lilies
Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library
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You can’t deny that the sight of your boyfriend stumbling upstairs, lips locked with some young, college chick, fumbling to unhook her bra, makes your heart drop below your stomach.
You knew, even from the outset of your relationship, that Bryce wasn’t going to be the guy you walked down an aisle and pledged ‘I do’ to, but he had, at least initially, been attentive and put in the effort to make you feel beautiful. Your chest aches at the thought that it only took a couple drinks and a pretty girl seductively sucking on a straw, for him to break the four month long commitment you made to each other.
That he didn’t have the decency to break up with you before not so subtly sliping away from a party he himself dragged you to, to fuck some stranger a mere wall away from where he left you minutes earlier with the promise to fix you both a drink.
With your head held high, despite the slight sting behind your eyes and a lump forming in your throat, you stand and stalk out of the house, tuning out the disparaging whispers of his friends as you leave.
Fuck him for not being able to recognise your worth, and fuck settling for his unsatisfying, vanilla, one minute performances he was no doubt be subjecting that luckless college girl to right now.
If he’s going to fuck whoever he wanted, you’re going do the same. And you’ll start with the person Bryce was the most insecure about during your relationship - his roommate.
* * *
Ari enters his shared apartment and notices the sound of the shower running, which is odd considering he distinctly remembered his roommate telling him he’d have the place to himself this Saturday night.
Knowing Bryce could in fact be dumb enough to forget to turn the water off before heading out, Ari begrudgingly goes to do it for him, only to realise that it isn’t Bryce’s shower that’s running.
Surely he couldn’t have been stupid enough to do it himself? Cursing the insanely high water bill they were sure to get this month, Ari rushes to turn the shower off in his own private bathroom.
Once he storms in and his brain has time to realise what he’s actually witnessing, he’s already harder than a rock.
“Hey Ari.” You say so casually, almost devilishly, even though you’re completely naked and masturbating in his bathroom. You’ve left the door to the small shower open, giving Ari a perfect view of you riding a dildo stuck to the floor, steamy water flowing down your back and dripping onto the tiled floor from your ass. And by the faint buzzing sound reverberating off the tiled walls, he’s also fairly certain you’re using a vibrator. The thought makes him even more painfully hard.
“Ugh Sunshine, you do know this is my shower, don’t you?” Your heart flutters at his nickname for you. You suspect he only playfully called you that because of how it upset Bryce each time the moniker left his lips, but it still manages to slip out when it’s just the two of you and he’s found you in this downright pornographic scene.
“Yeah, I know. It's just… I saw Bryce cheating on me tonight and I thought fuck it, I always thought you were really hot.” Ari takes a prudent step closer to the shower, swearing under his breath as he watches the thick dildo disappearing into your pussy with each twerk of your hips. “I wanted to see if you could fuck me better than he can.”
“You think there’s even a contest?” Ari asks rhetorically as he adjusts himself in his shorts, desperate for any type of friction to ease his painful throbbing need. “I’ve heard how unsatisfied he’s left you through these very walls.”
“Guess you’ll just have to prove it to me then.” This time Ari wastes no time in accepting your challenge. Turning off the running water, his large hands pick you up from the shower floor and squeeze your ass as you wrap your legs around his waist.
He kisses you with urgency and need, swiping his tongue into your mouth as if his life depends upon it, but the ardent kiss is over far too quickly as in three long strides Ari’s already at the foot of his bed, laying you down and pulling his shirt over his head.
You’re practically drooling watching him undress, his broad shoulders, strong arms and toned abs could fool anyone into thinking he was a god carved from stone. And when he finally strips himself of his shorts and underwear, you actually salivate at the sight of his deliciously large dick already hard and ready for you.
“Fuck, you’re so much bigger than Bryce.” Your brain is practically malfunctioning at the view of the naked, burly man in front of you and these words are all you can think to say.
“This is what you’ve been missing out on, Sunshine.” Ari comments with a smirk.
He kisses you again, with the same intensity as before, but now he takes his time to explore your mouth, his hands desperate to feel every inch of you, every beautiful swell and dip, every exquisite curve he gets to claim for the night.
“Turn around for me, I wanna see that ass.” You do as he commands, face and chest to his bed, arching your back with your ass in the air, giving him prime view of exactly what he wants. You grab your vibrator, switch it on your preferred setting and hold it at the angle you’ve come to know with experience gives you the most pleasure, humming in satisfaction when you find just the right spot. “Fuck, you’re so sexy when you use that toy.”
You feel him teasingly drag the head of his dick through your folds, coating himself in your arousal, which in turn makes you wetter.
“Shit, that’s a pretty pussy. So wet for me. You’ve been thinking about fucking me for a while, haven’t you?”
You breathlessly admit you have during the beat where he pauses and lines himself up with your entrance. A chorus of moans echoes through the room as he pushes into you for the first time. He fills you up agonisingly slowly, but his bruising grip on your hips prevents you from pushing back into him. The burn of your walls stretching to accommodate him dissipates once he’s fully sheathed within you and all you can think about is how completely and utterly full you feel.
“Holy shit, you’re so tight.” Ari gives himself a moment to savour the sensation of how your soft walls grip him and seemingly pull him further into you before he begins to move, quickening his pace with every new thrust.
“Fuck, you feel so good. Fill me up so deep, Ari.” The combination of the vibrator continuously stimulating your clit and the feel of Ari’s every inch driving in and out of you already has your toes curling.
“Say my name again baby, let the neighbours know who’s fucking you so good.” You do as he requests, chanting his name with every plunge of his cock.
His bed creaks with each rocking movement, the sound of the headboard thumping into the wall rhythmically fills the room along with your moaning and the salacious sound of skin slapping skin.
“Shit, right there, Ari. Don’t fucking stop!” You think perhaps there should be a part of you that’s embarrassed at how quickly you’re finding your release, but with how neglected and needy Bryce has left you, you’re utterly desperate to feel that pent up tension snap like a rubber band.
“That’s it, pretty girl, cum for me, wanna feel you squeezing my cock.” Ari can feel how close you are, your velvety walls fluttering around him, teetering on the edge of ecstasy. With one strong thrust, your long awaited release washes through you like a wave. Every cell in your body floods with pleasure, blinding your vision and losing control of all motor function, causing you to let go of the vibrator.
As if Ari can sense the future, he’s ready when you go slack, taking the toy from your limp hand and maintaining the perfect pressure on your clit, never breaking rhythm with his thrusts, prolonging your orgasm to the point where you’re desperately mewling for him to stop and tugging at his sheets to escape the tsunami of overwhelming pleasure.
“Best pussy I’ve ever felt. I bet Bryce doesn’t fuck you this good.” Ari says as he lazily pulls out of you, wiping stray, sweaty strands of hair from his eyes as he lays beside you on his bed, gently tapping his thighs as his indication he wants you to get on top.
“Not even close.” You say breathlessly with a smirk, a little insecure about how your legs wobble as you straddle him, though Ari doesn’t seem fazed by it. In fact, he looks overjoyed watching you look down at him, a hint of endearment swirling in his lust blown pupils you hadn’t been expecting to notice.
Ari lets out a rumbling moan as you sink down onto him, his hands instinctively finding your hips as he helps you through the motions of grinding down on his dick.
“Work it pretty girl, yeah, just like that. Use me, use this fat cock, it’s all yours.” Once you have worked up a rhythm Ari removes his hands from your sides, appreciating the sight of your pussy swallowing his shaft whole, before his itching fingers caress your breasts, rolling your nipples into stiffened peaks. “You’re so beautiful riding me like this. Look at these tits, they’re fucking perfect.”
“Oh God, I’m close, Ari.”
“Me too, Sunshine.” You barely hear Ari’s words as his strong arms engulf you, flipping you into his mattress. His heavy body presses you even further into the memory foam which is permanently infused with his intoxicating musky scent, trapping you so you have no choice but to take everything he’s giving you.
His long hair falls into his eyes, but it doesn’t stop him from making adoring eye contact. Did his eyes always soften when they gazed at you? Or are you only noticing it now that you are so much closer than you have ever been before?
You loved the angel he hit inside you while you were riding him, but it’s nothing compared to the mesmerising drag of his cock in this position, his hips rolling fervently into yours as his hands interlock with yours above your head and his lips suck on the sensitive skin of your neck.
The sex feels much more intimate than you were expecting when you essentially broke into his apartment to provocatively display yourself, wishing he’d be interested enough in an easy lay to give you one climax for the night. You’re not complaining though, you always did had a soft spot for Ari, and Bryce was rightfully jealous of the effortless connection you share.
“Oh fuck, Ari! Please, you're gonna make me cum!” You cry, his pistoning movements becoming more erratic as he chases both of your highs, his pelvis grinding against your clit repeatedly with each thrust.
“Cum with me, pretty girl.” Ari growls into your ear, your admission only spurring him on. The coil in the pit of your stomach winding tighter with each stroke of his tip against the spongy spot inside you that makes your legs shake uncontrollably and blinding stars burn behind your eyes. The same spot Bryce was never able to find, yet Ari sought out so easily.
Euphoria takes over you for the second time with a strained cry of his name, ecstasy shivers down your spine and out to the endings of every nerve in your body. You feel like you’re floating on a cloud of pure bliss as Ari captures your moans in an ardent kiss.
Your soft walls squeeze him deliciously and contrast to the sharp sting of your nails raking down his back. It’s enough to push him over the edge with you.
“Holy shit, I’m cumming!” Ari announces before a deep, husky grunt rumbles from his chest. The muscles in his abdomen tense as he spills his large load deep inside you with a drawn out groan.
When Ari finally pulls out, he takes a moment to appreciate the sight of your mixed releases dripping from your core, before he dashes into his bathroom to fetch a warm, damp cloth to clean you up. You flinch at the sensation, your body oversensitive after the two mind blowing orgasms he pulled from you, but your heart soars at the thought in his gesture.
Once he’s done, Ari’s sweaty form lays down beside you, pulling you into him, gently kissing down your neck and over your shoulder. A shiver runs down your spine at how much tenderness each small kiss is filled with.
“You know, I’ve kinda had a thing for you ever since Bryce introduced us, but I’ve never been that guy who makes a move on someone else’s girl.” You flip over so you’re looking at him, his eyes search yours for a sign that he is more than a convenient one night stand and this meant more than just getting revenge on his dickhead roommate.
“Well, I’m no longer Bryce’s girl…” You point out, which is met with a smile.
“No, you’re mine now.”
* * *
Before going another round, one where Ari vows to finally taste you, you suggest grabbing some bottled water to keep hydrated. You’ll need to replenish your fluids if he plans on having his way with you the entire night and into the morning.
When you open the bedroom door, you see a familiar figure lounging on the couch.
“Oh, hey Bryce.” You say nonchalantly, feigning ignorance that you knew he lived here, though it is a welcome surprise to see him home so early from the party where he would have heard every sinful detail of your genuine climax with Ari minutes before, something he had never experienced in your four months together.
He simply stares at you, mouth agape and eyes wide in disbelief as you casually walk over to the kitchen au naturel. You make sure to sway your hips seductively as you return to Ari’s bedroom, giving him a view of exactly what he’s missing out on.
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levans44 · 6 months
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Tipsy, smutty headcanons w/ cevans characters (pt. 1)
(aka: how steve and frank would fuck you after a few drinks)
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Steve:
Steve’s never been one for PDA—nearly five months since you’ve started ‘going steady,’ but he’s still so polite about touching you, always keeping his hands to himself when you’re out together in public.
But all that changes with a few sips of Asgardian mead at an Avengers soirée, which gives him a high he hasn’t had the luxury of feeling since 1941.  
It’s that point in the night when the party’s starting to wind down—just a small circle of friends gathered around Tony’s living room, jostling about who’s worthy enough to lift Thor’s hammer.
You’re sat next to Steve on the far end of the couch, amused by the group’s shenanigans. You laugh along at all the right cues, chin in hand as you butt in with a witty comment here and there. Meanwhile, Steve can’t focus on anyone else but you, eyes zeroing in on your smile, the way those red lips stretch around the rim of your glass. The soft curves of your body under that little black dress as you cross your legs, leaning innocently into his side. 
With your attention still on the rest of the group, the alcohol encourages him venture out a little. Careful fingers skim across the top of your knee, a quick brush of his calloused knuckles against your thigh. 
You miss it the first few times, but when his hand starts to inch closer and closer up the hem of your dress you turn to look at him, brows raised. You immediately notice the difference in his energy—eyes relaxed, head resting against the back of the couch as a lazy smile ghosts his soft lips. 
Steve, you okay? You murmur away from the group, head cocked to one side. 
Hmm? mmhm. He’s barely nodding, clearly distracted by something else. 
You frown, about to follow up, when a loud crash from the group makes you jump—Tony’s ingenious plans to lift the hammer using the suit had backfired (literally), the propulsion from his glove blasting him all the way across the room. 
The whole group starts groaning at the damage of the crash, and that’s when you feel Steve’s grip on your knee suddenly tighten. With everyone else distracted, he leans forward, hot breath teasing the shell of your ear as he whispers:
Can we go home?
You’re a little wide-eyed and breathless when it finally sinks in. One look at the way his tongue darts out to swipe at his bottom lip, his eyes shamelessly dragging down the outlines of your dress, and you’re shouting some incoherent excuse about an early morning to the rest of the group, grabbing his hand, and dragging his ass out of there.
He can’t keep his hands off of you in the back of the Uber, and as soon as the apartment door closes shut, he sleuths off all pretense of modesty, any sliver of chivalry he was holding onto at the party.
Steve, what’s gotten into you? Is this that stuff you were drinking at the party?
You’re laughing because he can’t seem to get you out of your dress fast enough, painfully hard beneath you as you run your fingers through his tussled hair, straddling him on the couch. 
Dunno. haven’t…  
He huffs out a breath, brows furrowed, pupils blown wide. 
…haven’t ffelt like this in a while. 
Hands dragging up and down your sides, his lips worship every inch of your body. And you’re pretty sure your heart stops beating the moment he leans up to your ear, murmuring oh-so-gently:
Want you to ride me. 
Please.
Brand fucking new, for Steve to voice his needs like that. You pull back, resting a hand against his chest, and he stares up at you like you’re the only person he’s ever known, completely exposed and defenseless. His heart thumps erratically under your fingertips—a reminder of his mortality, that he’s still just a man. Your man. 
You keep him underneath you all night, teasing mercilessly until he’s a groaning, panting mess underneath you—cheeks flushed, hips bucking, nails gripping at the upholstery. He can’t do anything but take it, head rolling against the back of the couch as you bounce up and down on his cock, grinding slow and hard, coming to a complete halt before speeding back up. 
And he’s grinning like an idiot the whole time. 
F-fuck, you feel… you feel so good, a-always so good. 
God, I love you.
He’s a stuttering mess when you finally let him come, a string of broken syllables that spell out your name. 
When he rushes up to kiss you, you grin against his mouth, closing a gentle hand around his neck. Your index finger slides over to his pulse point, just to the right of his Adam’s apple, tapping in time with the rhythm of a heart that only beats for you.
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Frank:
Frank drinks when he’s pissed. And today’s just been… one of those days. Repair went south on a boat he’s been working on for weeks, and he was called into Mary’s school (for the third time this month) because she’d snuck her laptop in her bag and got into a fight over it at recess.  
He’s just dropped Mary off to stay at Roberta’s (after a lengthy conversation about ‘keeping that damn laptop at home’). On the drive back, he’s gripping the steering wheel hard enough to leave indents because all he can think about right now is you, you, you. 
He returns to an empty house, and it takes him a few bottles of liquid courage before he’s shakily looking up your name in his short list of contacts, texting you five simple words:
Can you come over tonight?
Like a dog to a whistle, you’re there in under 10. 
He yanks open the door after the first knock, his lips swallowing your soft greeting as he kisses you fiercely, wasting no time as he pulls you into his bedroom. 
Calloused hands drag down your hips, squeezing your ass before he slides your jeans off, pushing you onto the bed. Kissing his way up your neck, lips hovering over your jaw as heavy breaths warm up your skin.
Frank, you alright? W-what’s going on?
You slow him down, fingers grasping at the short hairs on his nape.
He nods against the crook of your neck, pulling back with a quiet sigh.
Yeah, m’fine, I just….
He’s never been great with words, but the familiar strain in his eyes tells you all you need to know. Cupping his face in both hands, you pull him back down, and his grateful lips respond to yours with fervor. His arm moves south, palm warm and heavy against your sex as he cups your mound. Drags his fingers against the wet patch on your panties until you’re arching into his touch and mewling against his mouth. 
He’s desperate too, practically throbbing by the time he hastily shucks his boxers down and reaches for a condom in the bedside drawer. His hands are shaking, unable to tear his eyes away from you—your naked form sprawled on top of his sheets, fingers drawing lazy circles over your clit as you smile up at him. 
And when he finally sinks into your heat, it’s the first time in days the noise in his brain goes silent.
He fills his mind, instead, with images of you. 
Your coquettish grin, delicate lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks as you blink up at him.
I’m all yours, baby.
Whatever you want.
You bring his hand up to your face, rubbing your cheek against his palm. Soft, pink lips mold around the tip of his thumb as you suck gently, circling your tongue over the tip, and it sends him over the edge. 
With one of your legs hooked over his shoulder, he drives into you, deep. Hits that one spot inside you that’s got your pretty eyes rolling into the back of your head.  
Fuck, yes. Right there, don’t stop.
Shit—m’not, not gonna last.
Let go for me, baby, I've got you.
He cums with a low groan, collapsing forward to bury his face in the crook of your neck as he bottoms out. When the aftershocks pass, you let him stay there for a while, fingers caressing the back of his neck while you listen to his breathing even out. 
He rolls off of you, mumbling a quiet apology, embarrassment etched into his brows as he lets out a low chuckle. 
Didn’t mean to jump you as soon as you got here.
Your chest heaves with laughter as you turn to the side, pink lips stretched into a wicked grin as you look at him dead in the eye.
Frank, never apologize for fucking me like that.
And despite everything that’s gone wrong that day, your words send butterflies to the pit of his stomach, making him blush like he’s a high schooler on prom night.
He’s only known you for a couple months now, and you’re a few years younger—vibrant and affectionate in ways that make him feel guilty on most days. And even though he’s asked to ‘keep things casual’ because ‘he’s not exactly in the best place to commit to a relationship,’ he knows from the light behind your eyes that it’s time. 
He asks you out for lunch the very next day.
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author's note: gahh this was so fun to write and I hope you enjoyed! remember to drink responsibly kidz!!! If you do drink, reply&lmk what kind of drunk you are (handsy, loud, sad, etc) I’m trying to see something lol
also working on a pt.2 w/ ransom+andy but lmk if you'd like to see any other characters!
(update: read pt. 2 here!)
426 notes · View notes
riedswifts · 2 years
Text
AFTER HOURS
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NOMAD!STEVE X READER
Warnings : smut, barley plot, oral (f receiving), praise, slight size kink, desk sex, slight breeding, fingering, steve has a bit of a mouth, fluff (at the end ), some dumbification.
Summary : you and steve seem to have a mix of tensions and the top one being hate, but a night alone in the tower shows what the real problem is.
Word count: 2.8k
┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊
Everyone had left out with their significant others, or friends or family. Nat had begged you to come but you kindly declined. Being on a long-standing mission, and nearly being on the brink of death literally- being an assassin and hanging off a building by a falling building is tiring. You also weren’t expecting some things and were worn out to the max.
You were under the impression everyone had left. Except Jarvis of course but that was a computer system. So you had no reason to wear full clothes and being a trained assassin leaves you in shape so you thought you’d be fine. Leaving your personal huge room in nothing but a black widow t-shirt and a pair of panties, no bra either, you just explored the tower in its glory during the night hours.
It was stunning to say the least and not to brag but you had one of the best views. Tony made sure your room had a floor to ceiling window with a space in it to go on the balcony that overlooked the city’s lights. It was payment in a way, you had nearly died saving his life quite a few times and even if he didn’t admit it you were his favorite on the team.
You had decided that you would go out on the very ledge thor and loki fought on. You had quickly snagged a bottle of any alcohol you could snag without stopping and made your way outside. You sat near the ledge but not fully on it. Your ankles hanging off the edge as you sat with your legs stretched out.
You held up the bottle and glanced at it ‘Daviun vodka’ you didn’t care for brands but this one seemed ok and the flavor was watermelon. So you popped off the top and set it beside you as you rested back on your elbows taking a swig and staring at the bottle after before shrugging with a satisfied hum.
You just relaxed not registering the sound of someone getting closer. It was a rare moment when you let your guard down but after all you had asked JARVIS prior to this if any one was here and the damn shit said no. Someone stood behind you and you slightly stiffened.
Without moving you acted clueless before in seconds you stood up and stunned the person as you broke the handle off the vodka and managed to flip them over onto their back holding the jagged edge to their throat. Bored blue eyes stared back at you with the upmost annoyed face.
You scoffed standing up completely forgetting your attire. You didn’t bother sticking your hand out to help him up, you just grabbed the bottle and started walking inside. You heard him scoff in disbelief but you didn’t care, he was a grade A dick after all- only to you- that was.
“Why are you here? Have no friends to go out with?” He asked trailing you inside. You rolled your eyes making a dramatic annoyance sound. “Do you?“ You shot back, it was a fifth grade response but you didn’t care in the slightest.
“Fifth grade response, Cute.” He said sarcastically and you with to cut his beard off and his throat but tony and natasha agreed no killing the super solider. stupid rules.
“What do you want steve?” You asked putting the bottle back, you started walking and made an abrupt turn into the small room. The one where everyone had sat and watched as they replayed a video of wanda accidentally destroying a building and killing people. It was empty, lights off, chairs pushed in.
You always came to watch TV in here because the projected screen was cooler to you. After all you didn’t have electronics until you escaped the red room with natasha. Steve still followed you in there but you ignored him as you picked up the projector remote.
Sitting on the table you slid back leaving from your knees down hanging off the table as he grumbled that you were ignoring him. “Do you have anything better to do than I don’t know..annoy me?” You asked rolling your eyes.
His eyes seemed to finally take in your appearance and you had neglected the fact that your nipples would poke through the thin t-shirt due to the coldness. His eyes darkened for a moment before he sharply directed his state to the screen. “Just genuinely curious as to what a looser like you decided to do when they’re alone.”
Your head snapped in his direction. “Oh fuck off steve.” You scoffed. Deciding to press play on the movie but before you could the remote was snatched out of your hand and you glared at him as he tossed it aside.
He stood right in front of you and you scooted backwards. Your eyes narrow in on him as he licked his lips running a hand over his beard. “What’s your fucking problem?” You asked extremely annoyed your night was ruined by the captain himself.
Though there was the faint throb between your legs that made you wanna stab your eyes out, how dare your own body betray you like that.
After the question left your mouth his eyes snapped back up to yours. His hair was slightly slicked back but looked like he had laid down in it because a few pieces had fell out. He paused staring at you making you slightly shiver. He saw the way your thighs slightly shifted to squeeze, the way your nipples poked through the thing t-shirt. He could faintly see the lace of your panties, he stared at you for a long moment.
Suddenly he grabbed your Ankle pulling you forward making you slid until you were right in front of him a mere inch from his nose as his hands rested on either side of you. “You see, my problem is, i can’t decide if i hate your guts or maybe it’s the frustration of not being able to rearrange them.”
Your eyebrows raised as your breathing sped up a bit. His eyes swapped between your eyes and lips, then they locked on your eyes maintaining eye contact as you felt the coldness of his avengers ring against your knee.
“Well then, maybe that’s a theory we need to test out.” You said as his hand slid up more leaving a trail of goosebumps before gripping your leg tightly. He smirked at how reactive you were to his touch.
He hummed before leaving you curious as he removed his hands. Suddenly they where on the curves on your ass pushing you flush against him, as if it was natural your legs spread allowing the bulge in his pants to press right against your now dampened panties.
Your back arched as you looked up at him and his lips crashed into yours, it wasn’t passionate, and soft- no. It was bruising, full of dominance and emotion. Obviously the fight for domination still stood and as an assassin you weren’t gonna give up.
However when his hands gripped your hips and rolled your hips against his you let out an involuntary humiliating moan. That allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth and when he squeezed your ass he let you know, he had won.
You pulled away from him to breathe as you guys started at each other panting. His forehead came to rest against yours before laying you on the empty mahogany desk. He kissed you again bruising like as your hands started to wonder you tugged at his shirt and without disconnecting his lips from yours he took it off.
His hands slid up under your shirt cupping your breast and ran his thumbs over the hardened peaks. When your back arched it caused you to accidentally grind against him and this time you both moaned. He bit your lip before letting it go and kissing down your neck.
He sucked and bit making sure to suck each piece of smooth skin he could find. One of his hands pulled out from your shirt and cupped the back of your neck pulling you up before he pulled the shirt swiftly over your head.
He stared at you for a moment. “God, you’re stunning.” He whispered and before you could comprehend what was going on his mouth had latched on to your nipple sucking and slightly biting it making you moan.
He laid you back down and your mind fogged as you unbuckled his belt. However before you could do more he had grabbed both of your hands stopping his attacks on your boobs.
He pulled both your arms above your head and smirked down at your face, you looked stunning. Hair spread out and marks forming on your neck stopping above your breast. Your lips were swollen and bruised. He adored this sight.
God, he wish he had figured this out sooner, that instead of bitching he just actually fucked you. He didn’t think he’d find anything more addicting after seeing you in this state.
He kissed down your body stopping at the hem of your panties and deciding he was to impatient he tore them off making you whine. “i’ll buy you new ones.” He muttered as he got on his knees hooking his arms around your thighs. His hand pushing your stomach down.
You shivered as you felt the cold air of the tower directly on your bare pussy. Without a warning he shoved his face between your legs licking from your hole to your clit, the sensation made you gasp as your back arched.
“fuck!”
Steve groaned hearing the words fall out of your mouth. His tongue switched from sucking your clit to dipping his tongue in and out of you making you squirm. He looked up at you mouth and chin coated in slick. “Do not move your hands.”
Your brows furrowed as you continued to pant. “Wh-mmhh.” Your words turned into a soft moan when you felt one of his thick fingers slide in and bottom out. Your eyes pinched shut and your back arched off the table.
His other finger slid in as well and you tried to close your legs but he pulled them further apart. He watched your expression as he pulled them out almost fully before slamming them back in and curling them. He groaned and nearly came in his pants at the sight of you.
“Such a good girl for me.” He muttered before attaching his lips to your clit again and sucked on it whilst moving his fingers in and out. He Felt you tighten around him and couldn’t wait to see how you feel on his cock.
You were panting and babbling words of his name and please. What really sent you over the edge is when he sucked your clit with his teeth grazing it as he pumped his fingers harder curling them as your fingers locked him in.
Your orgasm crashed over you making your mind fog and your head limp to the side as pathetic whimpers left your plump and less swollen lips. He didn’t seem to care much that you had came all over his face because he kept sucking and licking up every last bit of cum.
You panted as you reached for his pants trying to tug them down as you recovered from your orgasm. When steve had finally freed his cock you assumed your face said it all because his chuckle was dark, taunting like.
He parted your legs again and you tried to close them but he roughly grabbed them pulling you closer to him but you let out a whimper when his huge side rubbed against your sensitive clit.
He made a mock frown face at you. “C’mon now sweetheart, be a good girl and take it for me, hmm?” He said as he massaged your breast with one hand and stroked himself. You nodded now desperate as the ache returned between your legs.
He let the tip slip in and he saw your face completely washed with pleasure. Brows furrowed, parted mouth, marks fully developed, and sweat beading your forehead. Without warning he pushed the rest of his way in and you gasp as he groaned.
You were used to sex of course you’ve had sex before but nobody was this big before. The intrusion felt good but the small sting was there lingering but it only added to the pleasure. “If you don’t stop squeezing’ me i’m gonna fucking cum.”
You relaxed around him and he groaned in relief. You felt more heavenly then he ever could’ve thought. He leaned down and captured your lips with his before thrusting with force and when he lifted one of your legs higher and he lifted your hips your eyes rolled back when he hit the spot that had you screaming his name.
“Look at you.” He said panting as he continued to thrust. “Takin it like such a good fucking girl.” With each word his thrust got harder and it made the breath get caught in your throat.
You grabbed his face kissing him harshly and he moaned into your mouth fueling the tightening in your lower stomach already. Suddenly he dropped you legs pushing them on the desk making them bend as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.
His thrust slowed to deep strokes. “You feel me, hmm?” He said and you moaned when he hit the spot inside you that had you babbling like a dumb person. Suddenly you felt the most unexplainable feeling.
It was like the tightness got tighter but mixed with a load of pleasure. You whimpered at the feeling as steve pushed his hand down harder on your lower tummy. “you feel that.” he panted as he thrusted again. “That’s how deep i am inside of you…”
“ohmygodohmygod.” was all you could babble as he pressed harder making the coil tighten up. “Steve- i’m gonna-“ He shut you up by kissing you as the hand that was pressing the bulge moved to your clit. “Do it, be a good girl and cum all over my cock.” He whispered as his thrust did not slow down.
He suddenly put his other hand behind your neck making you look down at his cock slipping in and out of you. “fuck- you see that?” He said as he kept moving in and out. Your hand was holding his wrist as his hand was behind your neck.
“C’mon- fuck!.” Steve said when you clenched harder around him. “give it to me.” he muttered as you laid back down and his fingers pinched and rolled your clit and he rubbed in a fast motion causing the coil to snap, your orgasm rushing over you like a tidal wave.
You blanked out for a moment, as black spots filled your vision and you’re pretty sure you said steve more times than any avenger had over the past years. You were moaning, sweaty, dazed and fucked out. Just how he wanted.
You got pulled back down when he kept running you and you whined tryna pull away. “to much.” you muttered and he mocked a frown. “Awe is my baby to fucked out? Look at you all dumb and can barley speak a full sentence.” He said and you moaned as he hit your over worked spot.
“You gonna be a good girl and let me cum inside of you hmm? Gonna fill you all up.” He muttered and you nodded. “Please- please cum inside of me.” your voice was hoarse and he held onto you tightly as his head went to your neck and you felt his thrusts getting sloppy before you felt ropes of cum deep inside you.
His head laid on your chest arms your arms circled his shoulder both of you laying there while his hands wrapped around you. He was slowly moving his hips pushing the thick cum into you deeper.
“Mr. Rogers? are you alright your heart rate seems exceptionally high? You as well Miss.” Steve who was Resting between your bare breasts chuckled making you smile.
“Oh i see Mr. Stark and the rest of them have returned. They’re parking.” Jarvis said and steve looked at you lifting you up as he looked at the cum mess on the table.
“Jarvis how much time do we have?” you asked as steve held you legs wrapped around his waist and due to the serum it was easy for him to hold your short frame up with one hand.
“Well five minutes starting now.” You and steve chuckled as you hopped down and cleaned the cum mess and he gathered your guys clothes.
“Good?” You asked fixing the chairs and everything. Steve nodded and Held his arm out and you jumped up wrapping your legs around his waist as he snuck out the room and ran up the stairs to his floor and shut the door.
“Guys?! Did you guys murder each other?”
That was all you heard from downstairs, before you guys bursted into giggles.
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universitypenguin · 7 months
Text
Chapter XXI
Summary: Lloyd is disturbed when Princess has another close call. He struggles with his feelings before having an epiphany about their relationship.
Word Count: 6,839
Masterlist
Warnings: 18+ readers only. Smut, erotica level explicitness, use of nipple clamps, allusions of impact play (Lloyd threatens to spank Princess), semi-rough sex. Criminal elements including stalking, domestic violence, and murder. Major health scare requiring an emergency room visit.
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Chapter XXII
You stepped out of the police station and into blinding sunlight. The moment the sun hit your eyes it felt like a thousand needles being stabbed in your retinas. You dug in your purse for a pair of sunglasses. The gradient style lenses weren’t dark enough to provide sufficient shade, so you shielded them with your hand as you scanned the parking lot. Refracted light from Jake’s glossy white Toyota 4Runner hurt your eyes, even though it was idling in the shade, under the porte-cochère.
You climbed in, hoping the vehicle’s dark windows would block the sun. Instead, the reflection off the hood was so bright that your eyes watered. With a hiss, you flipped the visor down.
Jake raised an eyebrow. “Rough day?”
“Not really, we had a great interview with Aliyah this morning, but I started getting a headache after lunch. My eyes are killing me.”
“Do you want to stop by the pharmacy?”
“I’d kill for some ibuprofen.”
In CVS, the pain relief aisle was completely stocked with everything - except ibuprofen.
Jake peered over your shoulder. “Should we try another store?”
“No. I’ll just grab something else.”
You picked up a box of Excedrin that proclaimed itself ‘extra-strength’ and flipped it over to study the label.
“What are you looking for?” Jake asked.
“I don’t know. My mother hates this stuff, she always takes ibuprofen.”
On the walk back to the car you swallowed two tablets and found that you were grateful for Jake’s presence. Since the incident in his backyard Lloyd had decided it was too risky for you to be alone anywhere that wasn’t secure. Outside of his cabin, the only places that met his security standards were the police station in Harmony and his office at Bishop & Howard. Lloyd had taken to dropping you off at the station in the mornings. In the afternoons one of the guys would drive you back to the office and deliver you directly to Lloyd’s office.
You’d agreed to the arrangement without hesitation because it was the logical, prudent course of action. Even so, you couldn’t help resenting that your freedom had been so harshly curtailed. The stalker had made you dependent on others in a way you’d never experienced before and hoped to never experience again. The rotation of bodyguards driving you back and forth between the police station and the office made you feel like a child caught in the middle of a complicated custody dispute.
Jake glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.
“Maybe we should stop by the emergency room,” he said. “You had a concussion recently and-”
“No. I’m fine. This is just a tension headache.”
You adjusted your sunglasses and tried to blink away the spots that danced in front of your eyes. Jake was still trying to persuade you to go to the ER when your throat started to ache, and then the ache became an itch. The itch spread slowly, like a persistent whisper of discomfort until you coughed and wheezed.
Your lips started tingling.
“Jake? I think… maybe we should go to the hospital.”
- - -
Six minutes later, you crossed the threshold of the Forest View Hospital emergency room. You were leaning heavily on Jake and choking on air instead of inhaling it. Your airway had constricted to a terrifyingly narrow passage that seemed to contract even further with each passing second. One look at you and the triage nurse was out of her chair. She guided you to a wheelchair while quizzing Jake about peanuts and shellfish… there was more, but your ears were ringing and you didn’t catch the rest.
A second later, a man in a white coat shoved a needle in your thigh. The injection stung, but the relief was so intense you could’ve kissed him. As the medicine coursed through your veins the feeling of suffocation gradually eased. The man in the white coat took a stethoscope and listened to your breathing.
“Not too bad,” he announced. “But we’ll need to keep you in observation for a while. I administered epinephrine to counter your allergic reaction. Can you tell me about any food or drugs you’ve consumed in the past few hours?”
You were still catching your breath, so Jake stepped forward. “She took an Excedrin about twenty minutes ago.”
Navy blue embroidery on the breast pocket of his white coat proclaimed the man as: Kennedy Knox, M.D., MSc; under his name were the words ‘Family Medicine.’ His nose was slightly crooked and he’d chosen a daring color for his footwear - the neon purple running shoes clashed with his burgundy scrubs.
Jake’s phone rang and he stepped around the curtain to answer it.
Dr. Knox noticed you were shivering and brought you a warm blanket from a glass cabinet before sitting down to take your medical history. Your voice was scratchy, but you managed to answer.
He finished typing and clicked back through his note, scanning the text. “It seems like you might have a sensitivity to aspirin. You said your mother avoids it?”
“She only uses ibuprofen and tylenol,” you confirmed.
“I’m almost certain anaphylaxis was triggered by aspirin, but until you can be tested by an allergist, avoid NSAIDs altogether. I’ll write you a referral.”
He typed another few lines into your chart.
“I see that you suffered a concussion last week?” Dr. Knox said.
“Yeah, I hit my head after getting out of the pool.”
“The Excedrin was for a headache… have you had problems with them since the injury?”
“Just today. The light started bothering me after lunch. By the time I got off work, it was a full-blown tension headache.”
Dr. Knox nodded. “Post-concussive headaches can feel a lot like tension headaches.”
He asked a few more questions and did a palpitation of your neck before picking up his prescription pad.
“Here, you can fill this at any pharmacy in the area…”
Sloppy handwriting on the note read: Pick up some very, very dark sunglasses, ASAP!
You giggled.
Knox winked.
“Doctor’s orders. They’re a must-have accessory for any fashionable concussion survivor. Think of it like wearing a scarf in Alaska.”
“I can get behind a prescription like this,” you said.
He chuckled. “Take care, and remember - no more Excedrin, no aspirin, and always read medications labels from now on.”
After signing the discharge papers you made your way down the hall. Your knees were still shaky but you could breathe. You continued until the sterile hospital atmosphere gave way to the softer, earth-toned decor of the waiting room.
Jake was standing beside Lloyd.
When your gaze clashed with Lloyd’s you almost stopped short. He looked furious, but then you noticed the wrinkle in his chin, a feature that only appeared when he was concerned. His pale eyes were like flint. You crossed to them and he opened his arms, enveloping you in a tight embrace. The weight of his hand smoothing down your back lulled you into relaxation and you wrapped your arms around his neck and laid your head on his shoulder.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Turns out I might be allergic to Aspirin.”
Lloyd sighed and squeezed your waist. His next words were directed to Jake.
“Thank you for taking care of her.”
“Don’t mention it.”
You were so exhausted that you didn’t bother listening to the rest of their conversation. It only lasted a minute or so. The whole time, Lloyd’s arms were snug around your waist and the warmth of his body seeped into yours, helping ease the residual shakiness from the epinephrine. Soon, Jake’s footsteps faded away, but Lloyd’s hold on you still didn’t relax. His hand kept stroking up and down your back. You yawned.
“Let’s get you home,” Lloyd murmured.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
He was anxious. It was an unusual condition for Lloyd, so the emotion struck him like a foreign disease, a pathogen that his immune system hadn’t been exposed to enough to mount an effective defense against. His skin prickled with hyper-awareness, his shoulder muscles were rigid and tension had gnawed a hole in the pit of his stomach.
You were asleep. He’d loaned you his jacket and you’d nestled into the makeshift pillow and nodded off just a few minutes into the drive. Lloyd snuck a glance at you, his lips compressing into a scowl. This was the second time in the space of ten days that he’d nearly lost you. His fingers clenched on the steering wheel. Wasn’t having a stalker enough? Did you need to have a life-threatening undiagnosed allergy, too?
When he pulled up to the cabin the sun was setting. You didn’t stir when he unbuckled you, so he rounded the vehicle and lifted you into his arms. Navigating the security system keypad and undoing the multiple locks on the front door with you in his arms was challenging, but he managed. By some miracle, your breathing was still deep and even when he laid you on the bed. He removed your shoes, covered you with a throw blanket and settled into the armchair by the window.
Anxiety continued to simmer in his blood. Lloyd did the breathing exercises Dr. Blair had taught him and stared out the window. He wished Nguyen would show his face. There was only one thing that would ease his mind, and it wasn’t breathing exercises.
Lloyd allowed his thoughts to turn toward violent imaginations. A normal person would’ve been horrified by the what ran through his head, but to him cruelty was the height of banality. It was something he’d been born into, a force that shaped his childhood, and then patterned his future. Violent ideas circulated in his mind without sparking the slightest flicker of emotional distress. Accountants had more passion for cash flow strategy than Lloyd did for his plans to end Shun Nguyen’s life.
It wasn’t long before his thoughts turned to more pressing issues.
He had to tell you that Nguyen was your stalker. It was his responsibility. Telling you was necessary and keeping the truth from you was wrong - he understood that very clearly. Lloyd’s teeth ground as he anticipated the impending conversation and wondered why it made him feel so awful. When had he become such a coward? As friends your communication had been seamless, but now that he was your lover, things had shifted.
You weren’t expressing yourself as freely. When you’d just been friends, you’d expressed your thoughts without hesitation, but over the past couple months, that had faded. Lloyd frowned. Why? What had prompted the breakdown in communication?
A soft groan from the bed interrupted his ponderings. You sighed, stretching, then squinted into the darkness.
“Lloyd? What time is it?”
“Just after seven-thirty.”
He crossed to the bed and sat down beside you, smoothing a hand over your hair.
“Did you sleep well?”
You adjusted the pillow. “Mmhmm.”
The words to begin the necessary conversation were right on the tip of his tongue, but then your arms curled around his neck. Lloyd was drawn into your arms and at the press of your lips, all his carefully organized thoughts scattered. His hands framed your face, thumbs sliding under your jaw to tilt your chin up. The kiss started out light, a brushing of lips, and steadily increased in pressure. When he pulled away, your eyes were dilated and you were both breathing raggedly.
“I’ve missed doing that,” you murmured, touching your swollen lips.
Lloyd groaned and kissed you deeply, enjoying your enthusiastic response. He gripped the back of your neck and held you still for a long, tender kiss, sliding his tongue against yours, then flicking and teasing, until he was rewarded by a delicate whimper of need. You gripped his shoulders and he sighed, contentment banishing the anxiety that had been riding him for the past few hours.
You mumbled something against his lips that he didn’t quite catch, but the demanding tone was clear enough. He slid his hands down from your face and gripped your waist, rubbing and squeezing at your hips in a gentle massage before moving to cradle your breasts. The distinct texture of lace was palpable through your thin blouse. He could tell it was an unlined bra by the way your puckered nipple stabbed into his palm.
You shivered and arched against his hand as you tugged him closer. Lloyd swept his thumbs over your nipples and was rewarded with a breathy moan and a delicious tremor. He groaned and allowed you to pull him down to the bed and rolled so that he was on top, straddling your hips.
His mouth never left yours. The kisses were hungry and charged with desperate need. When you began clawing at the buttons on his shirt, he undid them. Your hand sank into his chest hair, fingers twining into the sparse dusting with a purr of delight. Meanwhile, he found the fastening of your skirt, unclipped it and peeled down the zipper to access the hem of your blouse and yank it over your head.
When he saw the lacy purple bra with the front closure, he growled. You reached for the clasp but he batted your hand away.
“No.”
Your protest was silenced with a kiss and when you tried for the clasp again, he caught your wrists and raised them above your head. You whined in protest when he pinned you down, but the complaint was cut off when his tongue shoved into your mouth. He teased you with a series of thrusts and parries that elicited a soft chorus of whimpers and cries for him to enjoy before he shifted to a one handed grip on your wrists and slid his fingers under the lacy bra cups and stroked your taunt nipples.
“Oooohhh…”
Lloyd smirked. “Sensitive, Princess?”
He could feel your heartbeat hammering against your ribs. You moaned and arched when he scissored his fingers to pinch your nipple with his index and middle finger, squeezing until you gasped. Lloyd crushed his lips to yours as you undulated against him. He kissed you long and hard until you turned your head, breaking the kiss.
“Please, Lloyd, please…”
“You like it fast, don’t you, baby?”
You whined, struggling against his restraining grip. “Please…”
Lloyd chuckled. “If I let you go, you’ll start trying to undress me.”
Your pupils were blown wide and your lips were swollen from his rough kisses. Lloyd brushed his mouth lightly over yours. His smirk widened when you shuddered.
“Fuck me,” you whispered, breathless.
“Princess…” the hunger in your voice broke his self-control.
He released your wrists and unbuckled his belt. You squirmed underneath him, wiggling out of your skirt. By the time he’d gotten rid of his pants you were rolling down your thigh high stockings.
Lloyd hissed. “No, leave them on. Take off your panties unless you want me to rip them off.”
You obeyed and the second your panties were off, Lloyd moved between your legs, pressing himself against you, separated only by the thin barrier of his boxers. He felt your wetness seep through the silk and groaned.
“More, Lloyd. I need…”
He unfastened your bra and pushed it open, tweaking a pert nipple and squeezing the other breast. Your eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering as he bent to suckle at your tit. When you thrashed under him, he used his weight to hold you down as he tended to your breast. When you screamed in frustration he nipped your skin and ground his erection into your core. He could feel the scorching heat and his dick twitched, anticipating how good you’d feel wrapped around him.
“I need you inside me,” you pleaded.
“Yeah? How bad, Princess? Does it ache? Are you throbbing for me?”
You tossed your head back, making a noise that was part scream, part wail, and gyrated against him, trying to find relief.
“Someone’s naughty tonight, aren’t they? You know I’m the one who sets the pace in the bedroom, Princess. We need to work on your patience.”
You snarled, a startlingly realistic sound. Lloyd laughed and nuzzled your breasts, kissing each nipple, satisfying himself with a final suckle on each of the puckered little buds. They were still wet from his saliva but he continued to take his time and draw out your torment, enjoying the way you writhed and begged for more in disjointed, nearly unintelligible sentences.
“Fucking hell, baby. Your breasts are sensitive, aren’t they? Your pussy is gushing, you’re getting my nice silk boxers all sticky.”
You moaned, the sound faint, but raw. He recognized the pitch and knew you were getting close.
“I bet you could come just from this,” Lloyd mused, tracing the delicate tip of your breast with his tongue.
“Lloyd! Fuck, damn it…” you squirmed and fought his restraining grip.
He countered your struggles by shifting his weight to put more pressure on your hips, immobilizing you completely.
“You’re in a naughty mood tonight, Princess. I bet that aching pussy’s to blame. Ten minutes of me working on your nipples and you’re acting like an entitled brat. Let’s see what state you’re in after twenty…”
“I want you inside of me, please, please…!”
His cock thickened at your desperate cry. “You want my dick, baby?”
“Fuck me, Lloyd. I need you so bad.”
He moved his hand down to your center and stroked the delicate skin of your inner thighs, making you shiver.
“Hmmm… your thighs aren’t trembling yet. I love it when they do that. What if I gave you my fingers, Princess?”
Lloyd released your wrists and eased back, this time using both hands to caress your thighs. You keened when he ghosted his thumbs over the outer lips of your pussy and slipped them inside to spread you open, exposing your sex to his gaze.
“Let’s try that before I give you my dick, yeah? A nice round of fingering to get you warmed up?”
“I’m… warmed… up… damn it!” you were panting as he teased your clit.
He didn’t touch it directly, but took advantage of knowing the underside of your clit was your most sensitive area and stroked the vulnerable spot.
“I can see that, Princess. Your clit’s nice and puffy from grinding on my boxers, getting ‘em all messy with your pussy juice.”
He slid down to lay flat on the mattress and lowered his head to your core. For a moment, he just breathed on your clit and watched you tremble in excitement. Lloyd licked his lips, imagining the sharp flavor of you, tart and tangy on his tongue. You were sobbing, asking him to fuck you, to use his fingers, to give you his cock. It was music to his ears.
There was nothing hotter than the breathless cries of a woman desperate for pleasure. He closed his eyes and sealed his lips around your clit, listening to the sounds you made, allowing them to direct him. You were gasping, offering strained whimpers, choked moans that dissolved into senseless babble, which told him you were really, really close. When he heard the urgent litany of cries, he released your clit. You screamed and twisted as your hips chased the pleasure he’d taken away. Lloyd pinned you down with both hands, forcing you to be still.
“I thought you wanted dick, Princess? Do you? Or do you want to come on my tongue?”
Your response was incoherent. Taking pity on you, he slid a finger in your pussy. When the powerful muscles clenched around the digit, his balls tightened.
“Fuck, that’s hot. Literally - your pussy’s burning up, sweetheart. It’s throbbing already and trying to suck me in deep. Ah… good girl. That’s it. Spread your legs.”
He inserted a second finger and watched as your face creased with pleasure. You were so wet that he had no qualms about adding a third finger. The soft, spongy walls stretched to accommodate him and you keened.
“Open your eyes, Princess. Look at how good you’re taking my fingers. Your pussy’s so soft for me, fucking welcoming, isn’t she? Watch.”
Lloyd adjusted the angle, reaching past your g-spot, and probing for the deep area that would make your toes curl. The effect was instant - your breath caught, air hissed out of your lungs, and your thighs trembled. His cock was leaking in his boxers and his balls were aching, but the sight, the sounds, they were too good for him to heed the demands of his body.
He eased his fingers lower and teased your g-spot. When you were shivering, right on the brink of release, he shoved the digits deep, returning to the spot that affected you so intensely, mixing up the pleasure points so that you couldn’t get off. He was amazed at how receptive you were to the deep penetration.
Your expression was one of utter bliss, with your lips parted on a needy whine, your eyelids half-closed, and your forehead creased in rapture. When he retreated to stroke your g-spot some more your legs jerked, trying to close and protect the vulnerable area.
“Ah, ah… Princess. Naughty. Bad girl, you keep those knees apart or I’ll spank you.”
“S-s-sorry,” you gasped, tears streaming down your cheeks.
He rubbed your inner thigh, loving the way your muscles quivered under his fingers. It echoed the frantic clenching of your pussy. His thumb teased your clit and you shrieked, throwing your head back and bracing your arms behind you as your back arched off the bed. Lloyd pressed harder, rubbing your clit in firm circles. As he expected, your thighs seized, trying to push him away as the pleasure became overwhelming. He pressed your knee down and forced your legs to remain open.
You screamed, bucking against his hand. He was relentless. Your arms gave way and you crumpled to the bed, falling flat on your back.
“What’s wrong baby? Can’t handle my fingers? Do you want me to stop?”
“No! No, no, please, please, Lloyd!”
He kissed you fiercely, then eased into a slower tempo, gentling the kiss. You whimpered and clawed at his shoulders in a silent request for more. When he broke away, your eyes were filled with tears and wet tracks marred your cheeks. He kissed them and murmured.
“Poor baby. Can’t get off from me sucking your nipples, couldn’t come when I suckled your puffy little clit, and now you’re running away from my fingers. I don’t think you really want to come…”
“Please, I need you inside of me. Fuck me, damn it!”
He groaned, cock twitching, and rubbed your hip to soothe you.
“Are you gonna keep your legs open, Princess? Or will I have to take you over my knee?”
“Lloyd, don’t tease me, I can’t take anymore. I need you now. Right now!”
You broke down in tears and he drew you to his chest, kissing you as you sobbed.
“Okay, okay, it’s okay, Princess. I won’t tease you anymore.” He squeezed the fleshy part of your inner thigh. “Turn around, get on your hands and knees, and put your ass in the air.”
You scrambled to obey, going on all fours and positioning yourself like he’d requested - almost.
“I told you to put your ass in the air,” Lloyd said.
“It is!”
He realized you hadn’t understood the request. Moving behind you, he cupped your breasts and pinched your nipples, rolling them between his thumb and index finger. You pushed your hips back into his, whining. Lloyd tugged on your nipples, pulling them. You gasped and arched, lowering your chest to ease the sting. He used your nipples to guide your chest to the bed.
“That’s it,” he praised. “Put your ass up, honey. Just like that. Stretch your arms out. Reach toward the headboard.”
When you moved, your chest came off the bed. Lloyd pressed his palm between your shoulder blades and growled, “Princess…”
“What?!”
Your ass lowered and he jerked it back into position.
“Chest down, ass up,” he growled. “You stay just like this, or you’ll have a sore ass and raw nipples tomorrow morning.”
To emphasize the point, he smacked your ass lightly. You raised your hips and lowered your chest into the correct form. Lloyd traced the curve of your spine and admired the deep arch of your back.
“Now, how hard was that? Not too bad, huh? It’s easy to be a good girl. All you need to do is hold this position, sweetheart. I’ll do all the work.”
He dipped his fingers in your sex, circling your g-spot, and then sank the digits as far as he could reach. Your back arched into an even lower position at the sensation and he knew you were ready.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lloyd’s threat of giving you a sore ass and raw nipples echoed in your mind. You knew exactly what he meant by the latter because the other night you’d opened his nightstand drawer to borrow some lip balm and found the toys.
A bullet vibrator and a thick, curved stainless steel rod that you’d had to examine before realizing it was a dildo, were inside. In a small wooden box behind them, you’d found an anal plug and a fancy pair of nipple clamps. You’d slammed the drawer shut and forgotten all about borrowing his lip balm. Though you’d tried to put the matter out of your head, the nipple clamps had ignited your curiosity. You’d been wondering what they’d feel like for the past twenty-four hours.
Lloyd rubbed your lower back as he lined up your bodies. The broad head of his cock breached your opening, easily parting the slick, delicate tissues. His thrusts were slow as he invaded you inch by inch, making sure you could feel every ridge and vein. Even though you were soaked, the stretch was intense. Every part of your body was pulsating with need until the lust was a force of its own. When Lloyd eased back, you pressed your elbows into the mattress and rocked against him. His hands tightened on your waist, hips forcing you to stop.
“Lloyd,” you whimpered.
“I told you, Princess. Chest down, ass up, stay. Your chest isn’t down, is it?”
You groaned, feeling the heavy crest of his erection drag against your insides as he pulled out until just the tip was left.
“It’s not hard, is it, Princess?”
“Lloyd… don’t stop!”
You lowered your chest and extended your arms, assuming the correct position.
He leaned forward, and for a moment you thought he was going to use his body weight to pin you down, but he grabbed the handle of the nightstand drawer.
“You’re being a bad girl again. I warned you, Princess.”
You moaned at the sight of the silver nipple clamps, connected by a thin chain. Lloyd hauled you up and drew your back flush against his chest. He nuzzled your neck and rubbed the cool metal over your nipple, letting you feel it.
“What do you think, Princess? Do you want to try something new?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?” Lloyd murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.
“I want to try it.”
He squeezed your breast and guided the clamp over the nipple, opening the claw and teasing you. Goosebumps rose on your arms.
“Ready, Princess?”
You nodded and the clamp snapped shut. Pain raced straight to your core and you both groaned at the clench of your pussy.
“How does it feel?” he asked.
“It hurts!”
“Good.”
When he lifted your other breast, rolling your the puckered nipple to prepare it for its punishment, you assumed you knew what was coming. However, instead of a sharp sting, this clamp hurt worse. You lurched back, slamming into Lloyd’s chest. Immediately, you reached for the clamp, but he caught your wrist.
“No, don’t. Breathe, Princess. Deep breaths, that’s it.”
Tears swam in your eyes as he coached you. His hands stroked your body and the distraction of the calloused palms rubbing your waist and hips eased the pain. Suddenly, your breasts felt heavy and plump, despite the uncomfortable bite of the clamps.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Lloyd grunted.
You became aware of the flood between your legs and realized juices had dripped down your inner thighs. He thrust hard, seating himself deep in a single advance. This time instead of pushing your chest down, he grasped your wrists and used the leverage to force you to arch your back. His next thrust made you shudder.
“That’s a good girl,” he murmured.
His thrusts made the clamps rattle, their weight tugging on your breasts and triggering a wave of pain. You cried out.
“Easy, let me make it better.”
Lloyd reached between your legs, his fingers dipping into your folds and stroking your clit.
Instantly, the pain from your nipples faded, replaced by a fierce wave of pleasure. You clenched around him and the rough sound of male desire it elicited from Lloyd had you quivering, on edge. He rocked in and out, keeping his fingers moving on your clit to distract you from the searing pain of the clamps.
“Hold on, Princess.”
That was your only warning before he impaled himself deep, the head of his cock pressing at the entrance to your womb. You shuddered, gasping when his thrusts grew rougher and harder. Fire sizzled across your skin, the sensations racing up your spine until your entire body rippled. Lloyd’s grip on your wrists tightened as you twisted in a moment of ecstasy.
He growled. “Don’t round your back, Princess. I wanna go deep… come on, be a good girl and arch for me.”
You moaned and tried to meet his demand but your body was reacting, writhing and squirming of its own accord as he rooted himself so deep that you saw stars.
“Aaahhh! Lloyd!”
He jerked your wrists, forcing you to lower your shoulders, and jostling the clamps. You squealed and Lloyd growled in response. Your reaction seemed to spur him into action. Suddenly his deep, powerful thrusts were making the headboard rattle against the wall. It was so deep. In seconds, you were shaking on the edge of orgasm and the sensation of the nipple clamps had dulled to a pleasureable tightness.
Lloyd drew back, the width of his cock stroking over all your tender spots, before pausing at your entrance, leaving just the tip inside. You gasped as he slammed into you hard, burying himself all the way in a brutal thrust that made you scream. He shifted his hands higher, moving his grip from your wrists to just above your elbows. Held in this fashion, you were prevented from retreating or twisting away when the head of his cock ground into your g-spot.
Involuntary undulations rippled through your muscles, each invasion causing your channel to squeeze as it tried to entrap him. Each time they failed, your pussy reacted to the next thrust as a fresh chance to lock him in a vice grip. The sizzling pain from the nipple clamps acted like a conductor, carrying the sensations from your core and spreading them through your whole body. Violent waves of pleasure encompassed every muscle and nerve you possessed.
Lloyd grasped the chain that connected the nipple clamps and tugged. You screamed. He grunted, panting as he increased the pace, pounding you even harder. His teeth scraped against your shoulder and the flash of pain made you quiver. You could feel the orgasm approaching and knew it would be more powerful than anything you’d experienced before. A ripple of fear passed through your dazed mind, questioning if you could survive something so intense or if you’d disintegrate.
“That’s it, Princess. Good girl, squeezing my cock, taking me deep… ah, fuck!”
He swirled his fingers on your clit, thrusting faster, making the clamps rattle. Each impalement made you cry, until unintelligible words were all you could manage. He was rooted so deep, your nipples hurt so bad, yet at the same time, they felt so good… his fingers were tormenting your clit… you couldn’t catch your breath, it was too much…
The orgasm stole your breath. When you collapsed, Lloyd’s grip was the only thing that kept you from crushing the nipple clamps into the mattress. Your legs trembled, jerking and twisting as your muscles spasmed and pleasure turned you into its puppet. You were only vaguely aware of Lloyd’s release. You wouldn’t have noticed, except that the rush of wetness against your cervix triggered another, smaller orgasm. The second climax soothed the brutality of the first, easing your muscles from shaking into quivering. Slowly, your pussy relaxed its vise grip and your sex began pulsating with soft flutters that were as sweet as they were intense.
Lloyd rolled onto his side, taking you with him. One brawny arm curled around your waist as he wrapped himself around you like a human blanket. You whimpered, caught in the vestiges of climax still wracking your body. Lloyd held you tight and murmured soothing words that your frazzled mind couldn’t comprehend.
You felt disjoined from reality. The strongest sensation was the throbbing, molten heat, that pulsed between your legs - everything else seemed dulled and faint in comparison. You would have been content to lay boneless in Lloyd’s arms forever, but after a few moments he separated your bodies. The sticky trickle of liquid down your thigh made you stir, but physical exhaustion was stronger than discomfort. Lloyd nuzzled your shoulder.
He said something and even though you heard him, your brain just… refused to process. Then he was pulling you into his chest and arranging your legs across his thighs. His arm supported your back and your head fell limply against his neck.
“Princess… Come on, Princess. Open your eyes,” Lloyd purred, stroking your cheek.
“Tired...”
“I bet you are, but I have to take off those clamps, sweetheart.”
Your lashes fluttered. The dull throb of the nipple clamps wasn’t so unpleasant any more.
“They’re okay.”
“It’s better if I take them off now.”
“M’kay…”
You were so lost in the afterglow that you didn’t care what he did.
“This’ll hurt,” Lloyd warned, his fingers brushing the side of your breast.
Perhaps if you hadn’t been so relaxed, you would’ve been more concerned. When he opened the right clamp, you weren’t prepared. You shrieked, almost lurching out of his lap.
“Ow, ow, ow! Fuck! Fucking hell, damn it, holy shit…!”
Lloyd caught you when you tried to crawl away. He wrapped both arms around your waist and hauled you against his chest. You let him hold you, but hissed when he palmed your stinging nipple, rubbing it briskly.
“I know, it hurts. Let me rub it out.”
The sensation was intense, a blend of pleasure and pain that confused you.
“Ready for the other one?” he asked.
“No!”
“It has to come off, and it’ll hurt worse later.”
You grit your teeth.
“Fine, do it!”
His lips brushed your temple. “Deep breath… three, two, one-”
“Aaaaahh!”
Tears spilled down your cheeks.
“It’s okay,” Lloyd murmured, already stroking it, rubbing circulation back into the flesh.
He kissed your shoulder. “You did so good, Princess. Did you like the clamps? Hate them?”
“Yes.”
Lloyd chuckled.
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Considering your limited sexual history, Lloyd planned to spend more time than he normally would have on aftercare. What he didn’t anticipate was that you’d snuggled into his chest and fall asleep two minutes after he’d rubbed the blood flow back into your nipples. Figuring that it was probably the thought that counted, and cuddling was still a form of aftercare, he stayed in bed and held you while you slept. It was just past eight o’clock and he wasn’t tired, but he lay there and let the sound of your steady breath relax him. He let his mind drift.
His thoughts returned to Shun Nguyen.
Lloyd’s arms tightened around you, wondering why he hadn’t seen it himself. Nguyen was walking a red flag. Why had he let you speak with him alone for the second interview? The man had direct knowledge of his girlfriend’s murder and highly credible domestic violence accusations. Lloyd had put you in a room with him anyways; now you were being stalked. You snuffled in your sleep, mumbling. Lloyd stroked the length of your spine until you settled against him. He needed to wake you up and feed you, but he didn’t have the heart to do it yet. You’d been through a lot today.
He should be more careful with you. In the dark, quiet room the weight of his mistakes, of his errors in judgment, felt closer than ever. The communication problems you were having… those were probably his fault, too. He needed to mend the rift in your friendship and earn your trust again. Granted, he couldn’t tell you that he had every intention of killing Shun Ngueyn when the opportunity presented itself. When he did, he wasn’t going to be stupid about it. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize himself or cause you distress. Thinking about your distress made him uncomfortable.
Why had he gone for the nipple clamps tonight? They were hardly a beginner friendly choice. The bullet vibrator would’ve been more appropriate, but he’d been curious to see what effect a little pain would have on your pleasure. Choosing the clamps wasn’t his only error in judgment tonight. Even if the intense orgasm that unraveled you in the end was something rare and beautiful, the position he’d put you in had been too dominating.
Lloyd tried to focus on the positives, reminding himself that you’d trusted him. You had consented to the clamps and didn’t that prove how deep your trust ran?
But he hadn’t let you bail out when the second clamp hurt. He’d pushed your limits without asking for permission. Lloyd closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. He didn’t want to take advantage of you. If he did, it would be by accident, but he needed to be careful. In the future, he had to slow down and make sure he only used toys that suited your experience level.
Guilt seared his conscience. The emotion, like anxiety, wasn’t one he usually suffered from. Feeling guilty was one of his triggers for rage, so he tried to explore the emotion and search out its roots.
You’d trusted him tonight and now he was feeling unworthy of it. The lack of communication when you’d chosen not to tell him about your stalker… that must have come from a lack of trust. You didn’t think he could remain calm and help you instead of flying off the handle. Your behavior suggested that your trust in him was more physical than emotional.
He frowned, astonished by the revelation. You were his closest friend. He trusted you with his feelings… No, that wasn’t true.
He hadn’t told you about his estrangement from Joe. He hadn’t told you about helping Elliot get into rehab or seeing his ex-girlfriend when he was in Idaho. He hadn’t told you that he had sisters or that his mother had abandoned him and left him that horrible box of cassette tapes. He hadn’t told you that his father used to lock him under the tack room floorboards in a sunken coffin. You knew a lot about him - more than anyone else did - but not enough. The root of his guilt was suddenly clear. You weren’t communicating with him because you didn’t trust him. What had seemed like a failure to communicate ran much deeper.
He hadn’t done anything to earn the level of trust he was expecting from you.
His chest tightened, compressing with each beat of his heart. He wanted to address the problem but at the same time he was afraid of making a mistake and unraveling the delicate threads of your relationship. What if those delicate threads were already fraying, and he was just now noticing it? Something had to be done. Retreating wasn’t an option. Your friendship would never be enough for him again, not after having you as his lover. At the same time, he couldn’t bear the thought of tethering you to him and stifling your freedom.
Was there a balance that accommodated both of your needs?
Claiming you as his own would be selfish. Lloyd stared at the ceiling, trying to work out what he wanted. Monogamy, a shared home, your complete, unhesitating trust - those were the desires surged to the forefront of his mind. In a word, he wanted commitment.
Commitment.
The word churned his stomach. Lloyd couldn’t help the revulsion that welled up at the idea. He couldn’t stop the revulsion anymore than he could prevent himself from yearning for it. He repeated the phrase in his mind, as if exposure could resolve his phobia.
Commitment.
Lloyd shut his eyes. He did the breathing exercises again, but this time the anxiety refused to loose its grip.
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Masterlist
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Next - Chapter XXII
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The Princess - Tag List:
@denisemarieangelina @before-we-get-started @buckysteveloki-me @patzammit @badassbaker @meetmeatyourworst @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @thiskindahotkindamusic @jesgisborne @charmingprincess @amiets2 @seitmai @elle14-blog1 @chaoticsteverogers @fangirl-and-doctor-help @jesevans @openup-yourmind @kandierteveilchen @adoreyouusugar @awkwardgiraffe726 @pono-pura-vida @mysweetlittledesire @liecastillo @marantha @literaturelove @babyevansblog @lizzzaaaaaaaaaaa @thegirlnextdoorssister @ladygrey03 @cynic-spirit @rosedpetal @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @bambamwolf87 @yiiiikesmish @calwitch @peachiestevie @texmexdarling @crayongirl-linz @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @andydrysdalerogers @here4thefanfics @rogersbarber @spikeluv84 @dear-fifi
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“Did I step on your moment?” | Steve Rogers
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Steve Rogers x SHIELD!Agent!Female!Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> Natasha, Steve and you are on a mission but when you need to hide things are heated between Steve and you.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 634
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> (G) none, just fluff
𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> 10 Years Anniversary CA:TWS | March 29 | Theme: Natasha Romanoff | Mall, Disguise, Matchmaking, “Did I step on your moment?”, Favorite Natasha quote | @catws-anniversary
Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist
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Steve’s arm is around your waist; he wears a blue cap and laughs along with you when you pass a few people. Natasha talks to you over an earpiece, always telling you where the agents are and where you have to go to find out what’s on the stick. Steve and Natasha bought the stick after a mission on a SHIELD ship, which turned out wasn’t a ship belonging to SHIELD.
“To the left!” Natasha says, and the two of you do.
You walk into a small shop for phones and computers, looking around while you find a computer that could work. There are not many people around, so you pull Steve along with you. He smirks at you, even though his heart is just as much beating against his ribcage as yours. But the two of you stay professional enough to not be too nervous. You put the stick into the computer, looking around before you tap something. Just a moment later, there is a map, almost showing you the place where you find a base, which was supposed to be a SHIELD one but probably belongs to Hydra now.
“Front door, six agents; sides, two on each side; and behind the building are also six agents,” Natasha says. “Entering the building now. You have around seven minutes to get out of the store.”
You tap a few more things when a man appears next to you and talks to Steve. He asks him if he could help. Steve’s answer makes you chuckle. He tells him that you both are looking for a good spot for your honeymoon. After another comment from the man who tells Steve he has the same glasses, you almost burst out laughing.
“Siblings,” Natasha says through the earpiece, and you say that out loud.
“Model,” the guy says before he walks away to another customer.
“They are almost in the shop,” Natasha says, and you look back at the computer.
Right when Steve looks at the display as well, the coordinates appear there, and you get the stick back before the two of you make your way out of the shop. Natasha says where the agents are, while Steve and you walk close to each other on the stairs. The agents are all around the mall, and you pull your hood more into your face. Steve's eyes are focused on the ground while you pass some agents. On the stage, you inhale deeply, then you see Rumlow exhaling annoyedly before you turn to Steve.
“Kiss me.”
“What?”
“Now it’s going to be hot,” Nat laughs.
You grasp Steve's shirt and pull him down, pressing your lips on his, and he kisses you back. The kiss gets almost heated, but Natasha is doing a good job to make sure you both don’t get distracted from your job.
“You made a scene, didn’t you?”
You groan playfully while Steve says a quiet yes, nodding his head.
“Steve, how about y/n? You could fit really well,” Natasha says.
You hear her smirk, and when Steve turns his head toward you, his eyes are slightly widening and his cheeks are red.
“I-I mean I-“ Steve mumbles, and you laugh before you lift your hand to his cheek.
You capture it and stand on your tiptoes to reach him. When you lean closer, Steve immediately grasps your waist and pulls him closer against you. Your lips are captured by his while you hear Natasha clapping through the earpiece. You chuckle softly, deepening the kiss. You love the soft, warm feeling of Steve’s lips against yours.
“You should bring the stick now.”
Steve groans and makes both of you laugh.
“Did I step on your moment?” Natasha asks, laughing.
“No, just come and get the stick when you want it,” Steve says, playfully.
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Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @felicitylemon @cjand10 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf
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imyourbratzdoll · 9 months
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𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚
🕊️a whore's fairytale masterlist🕊️
summary - poor little sleeping beauty (you) has a tough day, from finding out who she really is, and falling into a deep slumber. is the prince able to awaken her?
warning - smut, somnophilia, dubcon (all my characters consent), choking, spitting kink, swearing, creampie, breeding kink, wife kink, kidnapping, cursed.
18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.
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.
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You were shocked to learn the truth, finding out you were a princess and that your real name wasn’t Briar Rose, you were told your parents had named you Y/n and that they had to send you off with the fairies because a woman named Maleficent cursed you. You had to take a few moments to collect yourself, learning that they were to take you back on your eighteenth birthday, which meant you were due to leave your home any moment now to go back to where your family supposedly lived. 
As the four of you began to head off, your mind was full, thinking about your family, the curse, and the man you had met earlier that day. Oh, he was so handsome. You were saddened to hear the news that you were to be betrothed the moment you got to the castle. You didn’t want to be married off to a man you did not know. It didn’t sit right with you. Maybe if you spoke to your parents, they would understand and let you be with the man in the woods. 
After the long walk, you had finally arrived at the palace, staring up at it with wide eyes, gobsmacked at the sheer size of it. The guards moved out of the way as you walked closer to the entrance, letting you in. Your blue dress that the fairies made as a birthday present clung to your body with each step. Small hands touched your arm, causing you to look down at Fauna. “We will have to leave you for a bit, my dear. We have some business to attend to before you are able to meet your parents.” 
You give a soft smile. “That is alright, Fauna. I’ll be okay.” You assure them, watching as they leave. You begin to look around, admiring the artwork that litters the walls. Suddenly, a wisp of light appears in front of you. Your mind starts to go fuzzy as it pulls you into a trance, and your legs begin to follow as the light moves away from you, leading you toward a secret panel that opens when you are near. You walk up the winding staircase and into the hidden room.
Maleficent’s voice fills the room, coaxing you. “Touch the spindle! Touch it, I say!” Her command fills your ears, taking over your mind, and you have no choice but to obey. Your mind had taken over your legs, causing you to walk over to it. Your hand lifts, finger pointed, before a soft gasp escapes you when the spindle pricks your finger, causing it to bleed. You fall, eyes slipping closed into a deep slumber, not knowing of the dangers that lie ahead. Maleficent cackles as she appears over your unconscious body. “Oh, what a dumb girl.” She smirks as she spies into your mind and sees you dreaming of a man. “Hmm, if you want that man so badly, I guess I could give him to you.”
It was too late when the fairies realised what had happened. They looked at each other with wide eyes. They quickly become their former selves, allowing their wings and magic to take over and lead them to where you are. They would never have expected to be met with you, knocked out into a deep slumber with the one who cursed you standing above you in the same room. Their hearts race as Maleficent looks at the three with a deadly smirk, knowing they wouldn’t be strong enough to stop her. 
“The three fairies! Flora, Fauna and…” Maleficent cocks her head to the side, “Merryweather, I’m guessing?” She waves her hand, scoffing. “Oh, well. I don’t care. I assume you came to get your girl? It is a shame. She would’ve done some good for the world.” She reaches down, running her fingers through your hair. “But, I’m willing to show the princess that the world isn’t so good and colourful. Goodbye.” With a wave of Maleficent’s hand, you and she disappear, causing the fairies to set off in a panic, frightened to tell your father, the king, the news. 
Maleficent lays you on a soft bed, watching you as you sleep. “M–Maleficent, my queen. T–the prince, we found him…” She turns, raising a brow, waiting for her henchman to spit it out. “It seems he is waiting for the princess at the cabin, h–he seems impatient.”
“Hmm, that sounds perfect. Bring him to me!” She waves her hand before looking down at you. “You’re going to have so much fun, little one, and instead of true love’s kiss.” She scrunches her nose as those words leave her lips, not believing in such a thing. “Let’s make it something more… Extreme.” A dark grin appears on her face, knowing what the prince would do once he saw you. Her crow told her how the two of you got along in the woods and how the man couldn’t stop staring at your soft breasts and plump arse. 
Ransom struggled against the henchmen, growling and swearing as they dragged him along. “Get your filthy paws off me! I’ll kill you for touching me! Don’t you know who I am!” The henchmen just shrug and huff, not caring. One of them grabs a cloth and stuffs it into the young prince’s mouth, wanting some quiet. They finally make it up to the room you are held in, throwing Ransom inside. 
“Ah, finally.” Maleficent walks over, tilting his head up with her finger underneath his chin. “Hmm, you are quite handsome.” Her eyes drag across his face, getting what you see in him. Ransom’s brows furrow, unable to speak with the cloth in his mouth, his eyes fall upon your sleeping form, and he begins to wonder what the hell is happening. “But, you are not for me… Princess Y/n continues to think of you, and as you can see, she is currently in a deep slumber.” Maleficent leans closer to his ear, whispering. “Why don’t you find a way to wake her up.” She cackles as she straightens and waves her hand, disappearing in a puff of smoke.
His binds and cloth disappearing along with her, Ransom grumbles, shaking his head. “Fucking witches.” He stands, brushing off his clothes, and his head lifts as he peers at you, eyes drifting down your body. “Huh, so you’re the princess I’m meant to marry.” He walks close, tapping the blanket with the tip of his fingers. “I was ready to fuck you as a mere peasant girl, but knowing that you are much more, it’s so much better.”
It’s as though your body knows he is near. Your nipples harden and slick gathers between your thighs, your dreams turning sexual and dirty. You shift in your sleep, letting out a soft whimper as you dream of the handsome man in the woods, bending you over the log and thrusting into your tight cunt. 
Ransom smirks as he watches you squirm. His cock hardens when he hears soft whimpers escape you. “Fuck, sweetheart. You sound so good, and I haven’t even touched you yet.” He strips from his clothes, sighing as his cock springs free from his slacks, no longer feeling tight and suffocated. Ransom pulls the blanket away from your body, his cock twitching when his gaze lands on your dress, wondering if it could get any tighter. He slowly gets onto the bed and crawls on top of you, lifting your dress higher as he moves up your body. “So beautiful, and all mine.” He pampers you with kisses, kissing up your body until he reaches your face. 
Ransom groans when his leaking member connects with your bare cunt, and he grips his thick base, rubbing his swollen tip through your sopping folds. “Jesus, you’re so wet, sweetheart. What or who is making you so wet?” He raises his brow in jealousy, wondering who you could be dreaming of when he is here for you. “You know what? If you’re going to be a little slut in your dreams. Then I’m going to treat you like one.” Ransom growls, sick of competing with someone else when you should only be focused on him. He aligns his mushroom tip with your tight hole before thrusting in. His eyes close as he grunts, never having felt someone like you before. 
Sweet moans pass your lips, dreaming of the handsome man in the woods gently lying you onto a blanket on the ground, pressing his hips into yours as he buries himself deeply into you, making love to you, marking your skin with his hands and lips. Your back arches in your dreams, arms wrapping around him, nails digging into his back. 
Ransom moans, “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Shit, sweetheart, you’re squeezing me so fucking tight. You’re sweet walls are fluttering around me like crazy.” He buries his face into your neck, peppering kisses along your skin and thrusting harder and faster into your sweet honey pot. “My sweet little sleeping beauty.” Getting lost in how good you feel around his member, he hastily grabs a pillow and shoves it under your hips before gripping them, giving him leverage. “When you wake, I’ll continue to fuck you. I’ll fuck you every day, even after you become my wife. I’ll pump you full every single day and night. You won’t think of looking at another man when you have me.”
He nuzzles closer to you, pounding harder as he kisses your cheek, moving closer to your lips, his eyes slipping closed, enjoying the feeling of you wrapped around him. “You’re mine, my sweet Y/n. All mine.” The moment his lips connect with yours, magic explodes around the two of you. Your eyes fly open, arms wrapping around him and your back arches. Ransom smirks, tilting his head back as he looks down at you with hooded eyes. “Ah, my sweet little sleeping beauty is finally awake. Do you feel that, sweetheart? Do you feel me inside you? Fucking into you, claiming you?” He fucks into you deeper, hitting against the hidden spot inside you. Ransom cups your cheek, glaring down at you with lust-filled eyes. His thumb lands on your bottom lip, pulling your mouth open. “You’re mine, understood?” 
You whimper, feeling yourself throb around his cock, never having experienced pleasure like this before. Your mind is cloudy, being pulled from your dream to see it come true with the man you’ve fallen for. You claw at his back, digging your nails into his soft flesh. “O–oh, it feels so good, my prince!” You scream, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues to pound into that spot, allowing Ransom to spit directly into your mouth, smirking as you immediately swallow. 
Ransom moves his hand between you, rubbing and rolling your swollen clit between his fingers. Enjoying the feeling of you squeezing his thick cock, he continues to pound into you, the hand that cups your cheek, moves to your throat and squeezes. “You’re going to cum for me, sleeping beauty, and then. I will pump you so full of my cum that it leaks out of you for months.” Your sweet moans fill the room, walls tighten around Ransom, your back arches, and you cum, your juices squirt out of you, covering everything. “Fuck, sweetheart.”
He captures your lips with his, thrusting harder and deeper until his cock twitches and his eyes slip closed. Ransom groans when his end approaches, burying himself deep inside you and emptying thick spurts of cum, coating your walls and filling you to the brim. He begins kissing down, resting on your neck, leaving soft kisses in his path. “My sweet little sleeping beauty.” Ransom lifts his head and stares deeply into your eyes, his softening cock still deep inside you, blocking his cum from leaking out. “You’re now mine forever.”
You hum, feeling your eyes begin to droop again. You would later learn not to fall in love with the first handsome man you laid your eyes upon. 
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lunarbuck · 1 year
Text
Say My Name (Ari Levinson x f!reader)
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thank you @flordeamatista for the beautiful gif !!!! I'm genuinely obsessed and so in love with it😭💕
pairing: Ari Levinson x f!reader (any race)
wc: 3.6k
warnings:  soft dark vibes, unwanted physical touch, kinda yucky man vibes, ari saves the day, beefy!ari, possessiveness, smut (p in v), breeding kink, spanking, pet names [baby, princess]
summary: Your neighbor Ari has had enough of the men you bring home.
a/n: This is my first time writing for Ari, I hope I did him justice!! Please lmk what you thought <3
My masterlist
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Josh holds your hand while you lead him up the stairs to your apartment. He smiles at you every time you look back, but it’s not very reassuring. The date hadn’t gone as well as you’d hoped. There’ve been no glaring red flags, but something about him is just… off. 
You stop in front of your apartment, sliding the key in the lock, but you can’t help but let your eyes drift over a few feet to your neighbor’s door. Your mouth practically waters as you think about that man. He’s never said much to you, but every time you see him, all you can think about is his strong arms wrapping around you, his soft lips kissing you, his probably huge– 
Josh clears his throat, and you jump a little, forced back to reality.
You unlock the door and shyly step inside, suddenly unsure of if you want him to come in. Josh doesn’t really give you time to think about it and crosses the threshold, giving you a smile that shows off his perfectly straight, blindingly white teeth.
“Thanks for inviting me back,” he says, closing the door behind him. “You know, I really like you.” Josh leans against the wall beside you, and you take a step back, trying to put some space between the two of you.
“Oh, um… thanks,” you stutter out, not sure how to respond. Josh quickly makes himself at home, dropping onto the couch and beckoning you over. He takes your hand the second you get close enough, and he tugs you down beside him, practically on his lap.
“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” Josh coos, running a hand up your back. It makes your skin crawl. You kind of feel bad; Josh hasn’t done anything wrong necessarily. The date was just bland. He didn’t seem all that interested until it was over. He’s plenty attractive, you suppose, though his personality could use some work. He was definitely better at flirting over text.
Josh’s fingers massage your shoulders a little too roughly, moving the fabric of your shirt with his actions. Your stomach turns at the feeling of him touching you. You don’t want to offend him or hurt his feelings, but you don’t want him touching you, either.
You clear your throat and stand abruptly, pushing away from Josh’s body. “Look, Josh,” you start, twisting your fingers together as you turn to face him. “You’re a great guy and all, but–”
“Come on, baby, don’t be like that.” You make a face at “baby”. You don’t like the way it sounds coming from his lips. Your neighbor called you that once and now it feels like he’s the only one allowed to say it ever again.
“Watch out, baby, wouldn’t want you bruising that pretty face of yours.”
“I think you should go home,” you tell Josh, stepping backward. Your legs hit the coffee table, trapping you in. Josh stands, clearly upset by your suggestion.
“Why’d you invite me back here if you were just gonna kick me out?” He crowds your space, and you can practically feel the irritation coming off him in waves.
“Honestly, I didn’t really invite you. You kinda invited yourself over.” Your voice is quieter than you want; you don’t sound as strong as you’d like. Josh scoffs and rolls his eyes, placing a hand on your cheek.
“You just don’t know what you want, and I’m here to show you.” Bile rises in your throat, and you act without thinking, pushing Josh as hard as you can and quickly getting far away from him. Josh recovers easily and follows you a second later.
“Please just go away,” you say, louder this time. “Really, Josh, please just go home.” Josh raises his eyebrows but keeps walking toward you, backing you against the kitchen counter.
“Now, why would I do that?”
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Ari
I heard her come home with him. Josh. He’s an idiot, not at all good enough for her. Ever since she moved in, I’ve been on the verge of losing control. She’s so beautiful, ethereal, and made of light. The first day I saw her, I wanted her, but she’s quiet, reserved. My life isn’t easy, and I don’t want her to get wrapped up in all of it. All of that’s been changing.
A few months ago, she started dating. The walls in the building are thin. I hear her every time she talks herself through getting dressed for the shitty men she meets with. She tries so hard to please them, to impress them, and they always let her down.
I hear her every time she gets home and crawls into bed, and touches herself. I hear her quiet whimpers and moans.
“Please, Ari, please.”
She sounds so sweet, whispering my name as she comes undone. 
Tonight, her date Josh has pushed her too far. There have been a few times when my princess’s dates have gotten too handsy, they’re overconfident and think they can talk their way into her bed, but she’s smarter than that.
Joshy here is fucking stupid. I seethe with anger as I hear my princess raise her voice at him. “Really, Josh, please just go home.”
I don’t think. I just act. My hand slides to my waistband, feeling the knife I keep holstered at all times. A moment later, I’m outside her door, reaching for her doorknob.
It’s unlocked. She didn’t even lock the door behind her. She has a lot to learn, but I will teach her. Oh, the things I will teach my beautiful little princess.
I step across the threshold, and instantly, Josh freezes. My princess stares with wide eyes between me and her date. 
“What’s going on in here?” I ask, stalking toward Josh. 
“Look, man, I don’t want any trouble,” he says, putting his hands up as if he’s innocent. He couldn’t be further from it. He put his hands on her, on what’s mine. He upset her. He’s made her cry.
Her tears shine so brightly against her skin, and it nearly brings me to my knees.
“It doesn’t look that way,” I say, my fingers easily finding the handle of my blade. I flick it open, the blade glinting in the light. Josh stares at the knife. He looks about ready to piss himself.
“Ari,” she whispers. It’s so quiet I almost miss it, but I don’t. I turn to look at her and feel the pull she has on me. Something deep in my chest connects me to her, and now, standing in her home, it feels even stronger. 
I can only imagine what it will feel like when I hold her. Kiss her. Fuck her.
“Get away from her,” I tell Josh, pointing the tip of my knife in his direction. I’m just a few feet away. If he tries to run, he won’t get far. I find I quite like the idea of cutting him down as punishment for what he’s done, but then I look at my princess and see how scared she is. 
She would never forgive me for making her endure that. “Get away from her,” I say again, practically growling.
Joshy finally makes a good decision and steps away from her, keeping his hands in the air.
I follow the man’s path, leading him toward the door, but the entire time my senses are attuned to my woman. She’s shaking where she stands, tears freely falling down her cheeks. I’ll take care of her the second this rat of a man is out of my sight.
I push Josh out the door, but he turns around abruptly, getting in my face. “Who the fuck are you, dude?” He asks incredulously.
“If you ever come here again, if you ever get close to that woman again, I’ll slit your throat. I won’t hesitate. Do you understand?” Josh stares, jaw dropping as he hears my words. He takes a deep breath and nods.
“Uh, yeah, I understand.” On that note, I slam the door in his face. His footsteps retreat a moment later. 
I hear my woman take heaving, shuddering breaths behind me that snap me back to reality. I tuck my knife away and am at her side in an instant.
“Thank you, Ari,” she whispers. I stand in front of her, suddenly unsure of myself. I want to touch her, to hold her close, but I don’t want to scare her.
“Of course,” I say, trying to match her volume. My voice comes out gruff and rumbly. My princess shifts on her feet nervously. “Are you okay?” Of course she’s not okay; that was an awful question.
“It’s better now that you’re here,” she confesses, looking up at me through her wet lashes. Her cheeks are damp from her tears, but she is no longer crying. I rest my hand on her cheek, letting my thumb brush away the wetness from her skin.
She leans into my touch, seemingly comforted by my presence. 
Electricity courses through my body, spurring me to hold her closer, touch her more. She is addictive, and I haven’t even gotten a taste yet.
“I would never let anything happen to you,” I whisper to her, leaning closer to her. This close, I can smell her perfume. It’s floral, the same one that lingers in the hall every time she passes through. 
“I thought–” she pauses, chewing her lower lip. My thumb that had been caressing her cheek dips down, tugging her lip from between her teeth. It’s pink and slightly swollen as I rub the pad of my thumb along it. 
“You thought what, princess?” I ask, reveling in the softness of her lip beneath my calloused skin. She breathes deeply when I call her princess, and I smirk.
“I thought you hadn’t even noticed me. You’re always cooped up in your apartment or at work, I guess. And I know you’re older than me, so I figured you weren’t interested. I just never thought you’d… want me.” Heat shoots down my spine. Of course I want her; I’ve wanted her from the second I saw her.
I hold her face in both my hands, relishing how soft she is, and take a breath. 
“You’re right. I am older than you. I’m always working, and when I’m not working, I’m in my place. But you’re always on my mind, princess. I hear you sing to yourself while you’re cooking. I hear you talk to yourself when you’re frustrated. I hear you moan my fucking name at night while you touch yourself.” Her eyes go wide, pupils blowing.
“You– you heard me?” My grin widens, and I can’t help but chuckle at her sweet innocence.
“Yes, baby. You know how hard it’s been for me to hear you whimpering, begging for me, and not break down your door? You have no idea how much I want you. Need you.”
Her chest rises and falls quickly as heat rushes to her cheeks. She’s glowing, practically vibrating with need.
“Ari,” she mutters, mesmerized. My grin is now a full-blown smile, and I watch her carefully as I lean in to kiss her. She responds so perfectly to me, arching against my chest to close the distance between our lips.
Our height difference is noticeable, and I love the way she rises onto her toes to kiss me. She tastes sweet like candy and salty from her tears as my tongue swipes against the seam of her lips. She moans and opens for me, tangling her fingers in my hair. It’s gotten long, but I love the way her nails scratch against my scalp.
I devour her, drinking her in. I just can’t help myself. I thought I’d been addicted before, but now that she’s here in my arms, I know it’s so much more than that. To think I’ve gone so long without her…
My hands wander down her body, caressing her neck, her curves, every inch of her skin that I can reach. She responds to each touch with a whimper or a tug of my hair, egging me on. 
“I need more,” I groan against her, sliding my hands down to her knees and hoisting her up onto the counter. Her ass hits the cool marble, and she shrieks at the temperature, making me chuckle. She’s wearing a pair of flowy pants that I easily pull down her body and toss onto the ground somewhere behind me.
Next, I pull her shirt over her head. My woman is a beautiful sight in just her panties and a bra, but I know she will look even more stunning naked and writhing beneath me.
My cock was already hard, but now it’s almost painful.
“Ari,” she whimpers as I step between her legs. I run my hands up her legs, squeezing the flesh of her ass before letting my fingers wander up further to her breasts. I love the way my name sounds when she says it.
“Fuck, princess.” She arches against me and urges me to tug her bra off of her. I rid her of the garment and moan at the sight of her perfect body. Her panties are gone a moment later and I devour her with my eyes. 
My hands rest on her shoulders, thumbs tucked under her jaw to keep her looking at me. Her pupils are blown and her lips open as she breathes heavily. She’s so worked up and I haven’t even done anything to her yet. 
“Ari,” she says again, licking her bottom lip. I lean in and kiss her hard before I tug her off the counter. Her legs wrap around my waist and she gently grinds against my abdomen, seeking friction. I bite her lip and soothe it with my tongue.
“Tell me what you want, baby,” I whisper against her lips. The layout of her apartment is the same as mine, so I already know where her bedroom is. The door is open and I take a moment to look around at her space. Gently, I place her down on the bed and grin at the thought of fucking her here. Of giving her a new memory to touch herself to. 
“I want you, Ari,” she whispers, looking so sweet and innocent on her bed. I cock my head, resting my hands on my hips. She sheepishly looks away but I kneel down and force her to look at me again. She takes a big breath before continuing. “I want you inside me, Ari. I need you.” 
The fact that I don’t immediately rip my clothes off and pounce on her is a testament to my self-control, but she whittles it away with the breathy moan she ends the sentence with. 
I pull my belt off and start to unbutton my pants, loving the way her eyes follow each movement. When I step out of my jeans and pull my boxers down, my princess practically drools. I laugh at her expression, it goes straight to my ego.
“You think you can handle it princess?” I ask, fisting the head of my cock. She nods, in a daze, and crawls toward me. Her fingers wrap around the base of my cock and I bite back a moan when I feel how soft her skin is. She works her hand up and down, replacing my hand with her own, and swipes her tongue over the head gingerly.
“Yes, Ari,” she tells me, sucking me into her hot mouth. I run my fingers through her hair, letting her take me at her own pace. I let her control this moment, knowing that soon all she’ll want is to lose control. She hums around my cock and it nearly sends me over the edge. 
Even though I don’t want to leave the heat of her mouth, I gently push her off me and guide her onto her back. I kneel between her legs and litter kisses along the insides of her thighs. Her fingers twist in my hair as she tries to tug me toward her center, where she wants me most.
I bite the flesh of her thigh before I wrap my lips around her clit. She moans loudly, legs trapping my head. I smile against her pussy as I taste her, my tongue darting out to lap up everything she gives me. I wrap my arms around her legs and hold her tightly, not wanting to let her escape from my grip. She wiggles her hips and grips the sheets tightly with her fingers as I work her up and up. 
I want her to come more than I want to breathe.
She chants my name like a prayer, each time breathier and higher than the last, as she approaches her climax. She pulls my hair harshly, but the bite of pain just fuels me to bring her over the edge. 
“Ari!” She shouts as she comes, grinding against my tongue. I don’t want to stop, but I pull back when she starts to whine with sensitivity. 
“You’re so perfect, princess,” I tell her, kissing up her abdomen. I wrap my lips around one of her taut nipples and suck it into my mouth. Her fingers scrape up my back and tug at my hair. “So fucking perfect.”
I grind against her, my cock slipping through her center and knocking her clit. She shudders beneath me as I give her a taste of what’s to come.
“Ari,” her voice is low and raspy.
“You want me to fuck you baby?” I ask, teasingly, as I give her other breast some much needed attention. “You want me to make you feel good?” She nods quickly, whimpering.
“Please, Ari,” she groans. “Please.” I line my cock up with her entrance and slide in, inch by inch, making her feel all of it. Her hands grip my shoulders and her eyes screw shut as I stretch her. She’s so fucking tight it feels like I’m suffocating. 
“You’re squeezing me so good, princess,” I tell her, dropping my head to the crook of her neck. When I’m fully inside her, I take a second to let her feel how deep I am inside of her. I slide one of my hands between us and press on her lower belly, adding pressure.
“Oh my god,” she whimpers. I grin against her skin as I pull nearly all the way out. I thrust into her, hard and fast, barely giving her time to breathe. I set a brutal pace, one that sends electricity shooting down my spine. 
She clings to me, taking what I give her. She loses herself to me, lets me use her as I please. She’s more perfect than I ever could have imagined. 
“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” I moan, biting her shoulder, “Fucking made for me.” 
I fuck her like it’s the last thing I’ll ever do. I fuck her like she’s killing me.
My beautiful princess writhes beneath me and I pull back, turning her over. She lifts her hips in the air, arching her back to show off her perfect body, and I moan at the sight. She will be the death of me. Such a sweet death, that would be. 
I run my hands over the globes of her ass and smack the right side. She jolts below me but I see the smile that flits over her lips. I soothe the ache before smacking the other side. She moans, but I want more than that.
I spank her again. “Say my name,” I grunt, thrusting my cock between her cheeks. I ache to be inside of her, but I need her to work for it. 
She wiggles her ass and I give her two more slaps. “Say my name.”
“Ari,” she whispers, gripping the sheets below her. Her brow is furrowed, eyes screwed shut. 
I slip my cock into her and thrust all the way in, hitting a new spot deep inside of her. She sucks in a tight breath, squeezing me tighter. “Ari,” she moans.
The way I fuck her is desperate, it gives away how much I fucking need her, how much I crave her.
“Say my name,” I tell her, punctuating each word with a deep thrust. She moans my name over and over again, and each time she says it I spank her. 
We’re both close to finishing, both on the edge of ecstasy.
I grip her hips and drive into her harshly, loving the way my princess goes limp below me. The only thing holding her up is my hold on her hips.
“Fuck, baby, I need you to come one more time.” She nods and I watch one of her hands disappear between her legs. 
“Please come inside me, Ari,” she whispers, burying her face in the bed. Fuck.
“Gonna fucking fill you up, princess,” I grunt, picking up my pace. “Gonna fuck a baby into your pretty pussy.” My words push her over the edge, and I feel her clench around me. She bucks against me and I hold her hips tightly to me.
I come hard, filling her just like I promised to. Every muscle in my body tightens, and the only thing that relaxes me is my princess’s soft breaths as she comes down from her high.
Together, we collapse against the bed, and I pull her into my chest. My cock is still semi-hard inside of her, but I have no intention of pulling out. Not right now, not when she’s so soft against me.
“You did so perfect for me,” I whisper, nudging my nose against her ear. “So perfect, princess.” She settles in, melting into my embrace, and I take it all in.
I’m never letting another man touch her, not now that I’ve felt her, tasted her. Fucked her.
She’s all mine.
Forever.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 7 months
Text
don't smile
kinktober, day two
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a/n: okay but sometimes a handful of photos just come together as if they were made for each other.... like, damn....
warnings: steve rogers x reader, smut, established relationship, size kink, blowjob, throat fucking, aftercare
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023
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Thick thighs firmly planted on either side of your chest, hovering above you, Steve’s staggering girth stretched out your lips as he fed you more and more of his length, fucking your throat like a toy till eventually, with a beautifully strained curse, the movements of his hip slackened as his load shot down your gullet. 
Grip digging into the headboard, Steve gently reeled back, sliding his twitching cock out of your mouth. 
When a blissful smile spread across your features, so came a light groan, “ah man,” swiftly moving your chin gently from side to side as you caught your breath, “my jaw,” the soreness now becoming prevalent from how you’d had to nearly unhinge it, almost snake-like, in order to accommodate your love. 
Scooting further down your body, Steve’s hand found the side of your face, lying there on the pillow, “don’t smile, sweetheart,” his fingertips gently circled over the tender muscles, “relax.” 
Grin only growing wide, you then giggled dotingly, “you can’t tell me not to smile, mister,” your own fingers fluttering over his as you gazed lovingly up into his warm eyes. 
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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