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#lloyd hansen x female reader
imyourbratzdoll · 9 months
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Can I please request best friends, dad!Lloyd, finding you masturbating in his bed!! Maybe include some toys+squirting?? Thnnnx!! Love your blog💘💘
hey honey, thank you so much!
summary - you've been pining over your best friend's dad and decide to take your chance, knowing he's out and your best friend is asleep, you be a little bit naughty and touch yourself on his bed, not knowing he's coming home early.
warning - smut, masturbating, voyeurism, squirting.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips
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You were sneaky, waiting until your best friend fell asleep so you could sneak out of her room. You’ve hung around enough to know that her father works late, only coming home early in the morning, sometimes covered in blood. You had a slight crush on the man. I mean, could you really be blamed? Wearing your tiny white nightie as you head toward Mr Hansen’s room, you sneak inside, not bothering to close the door as your friend sleeps deeply. 
Your trusty toy tucked into your hand, with your free hand, you drag it along his sheets, sighing as they are so soft. You get wet just thinking about Lloyd lying naked between the sheets, stroking his thick member. You whimper, crawling onto the bed and lying down. You moan as your body relaxes. Your eyes slip closed, and your fingers skim your nipples. They slowly slide down your body, landing between your legs and circling your puffy clit. 
You blindly turn your toy on, placing it directly onto your clit, causing soft mewls to escape your lips. Your mind begins to drift off thinking of Lloyd, imagining him walking in on you, degrading you, until he finally flips you around and thrusts into you. You are so caught up in pleasure that you don’t hear Lloyd arriving home earlier than usual or entering the house and making his way to his room. You don’t even notice him leaning against the doorway, and you whine as you arch your back, grinding down onto the toy. “Oh, Mr Hansen.”
Lloyd crosses his arms as he watches you with a smirk and clears his throat. His smirk grows when your eyes fly open, and you freeze, mouth opening and closing as you try and find an excuse for why you are in his bed, touching yourself. “Well, sweetheart. If I had known this is what I would’ve been coming home to, I would’ve come home much faster.” His eyes slowly move down your body, licking his lips when they land on the soaked toy between your legs. Lloyd waves his hand. “Don’t stop on my account, please. Continue.”
“M–mr Hans–” He cuts you off with a raised brow. You feel your body heat up and your cunt throb as he stares you down. You gasp as you press the toy harder against your clit, and your legs fall open, giving Lloyd a better view. 
“Mm, that’s right, pretty girl. Get off in my bed. I bet you wouldn’t even be able to stop even if my daughter woke.” He smirks, making his way over and sitting close to you on the bed, causing your mind to go fuzzy from his scent alone. You throb when he touches your thigh, stroking it as his gaze sticks to the toy between your legs. “You’re such a naughty girl, pining over your best friend’s dad… Hmm.” You look at him with wide eyes, mouth falling open and eyes crossing. “You thought I didn’t notice? It’s quite flattering, pumpkin. Why do you think I walked around half-naked? Or brushed up against you.” Lloyd smirks, stroking your cheek before gripping your chin and resting his thumb on your plump bottom lip. “Are you going to cum for me? Make a mess on my sheets?” 
You whine, nodding. Lloyd groans when your lips wrap around his thumb, and you begin to suck, staring up at him with wide innocent eyes. Your walls pulsate, and your clit throbs, toes curling as your end approaches. “Mr Hansen!” Your back arches, and your juices squirt out of you, tiring your body and causing you to sag into the bed. Your eyes flutter, the toy falling limp between your legs. “I–I’m sorry…” You realise what you have done and try to get up, but Lloyd stops you.
“Don’t be sorry, pumpkin. That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Lloyd grabs the toy, feeling his cock stir with how wet it is and holds it up, watching with a smirk as your juices create a string. “Naughty, naughty girl. Look at the mess you’ve made.” You watch with wide eyes as he licks up your arousal before throwing the toy aside and climbing on top of you. “Just because you’ve had your fun, sweetness, doesn’t mean you can leave. You don’t want to leave without letting me pump you full, right?” 
You shake your head, feeling your cunt throb in anticipation. Your fantasy was finally coming true.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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georgiapeach30513 · 4 months
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With Your Touch Masterlist
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You were supposed to be living a normal life. Perfect boyfriend, just graduated college, and ready to start your new life. Until you met him. Brooding and imposing unless his daughter is around. You knew nothing about babies, but he knew less. Tension builds, feelings flare up, but are they just because he looks extremely sexy when he's soft? Could it be because you are falling for this princess of a baby girl before him? Is it because when he's in town you're too close? The money is good, and yet his attention is better.
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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
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A/N: this story will include themes of age gap, forced au pair, close proximity, jealousy, obsession, possessiveness, alluded canon level violence, soft Lloyd, voyeurism, self gratification, pining, and more. Read ALL warnings before each part. And as always, minors DNI
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biteofcherry · 8 months
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This is just a collection of very short scenes from Ruby Garden, focused on adventures in tangerine theft 😆
for @dumbgothbunny who asked for some crumbs of Ruby Garden 💗
Ruby Garden Masterlist
Each separated bit is about different Reader (meaning each Dom has a different Reader).
Dom!Lloyd Hansen x sub!reader
Dom!Ari Levinson x sub!reader
Dom!Andy Barber x sub!reader
Dom!Nick Fowler x sub!reader
Dom!Steve Rogers x sub!reader
Dom!Bucky Barnes x sub!reader x Dom!Curtis Everett
warnings: none really; it's pure playfulness and teasing; only brief mentions of punishments and filthy shmexy times; BDSM setting; Dom/sub dynamics; safe, sane and consensual; power imbalance
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Intro
Out of all the snacks available for members of the Ruby Garden, it's the tangerines that somehow gained a status of most desired gold.
It happened as anecdotes and inner jokes happen - because of a one time incident.
A mistake in the order led to double quantity of bananas and complete lack of tangerines. Since Ari Levinson wasn't about to let anything go to waste, the buffet served bananas for a month in various forms (thankfully along with other available fruit, small salads and canapes). And not a single tangerine.
So when finally tangerines were ordered again when the bananas were all eaten, the submissives jumped on them like starved.
Which led to the decision of making little citrus fruit a rarity, so that their appearance brought joy and laughter.
It also started a game of tangerine theft.
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Lloyd
You winked at your co-conspirator as the both of you followed Master Lloyd.
Well, you followed the crate of tangerines that were carried to the bar. It just so happened that Master Lloyd was the one who brought in the first crate and now the other.
You leaned against the bar, your friend along with you, bouncing in excitement. And a bit in impatience, as you waited for him to acknowledge your presence.
That he was aware of you standing there, you were sure.
Somehow Master Lloyd was always aware of his surroundings, like a predator in vigil.
You didn't know his line of work, but perhaps he was simply attuned to submissives so much he's aware when they sneak around. Especially when they try to avoid him and his whip.
You kicked your friend when she opened her mouth, undoubtedly to call for him.
No, no. If you're not another Master, you didn't call for Lloyd. You waited for his permission to speak.
Or accepted if he ignored you, since it meant he wasn't interested at all.
But thankfully, after a few more heartbeats, he turned around and arched a single eyebrow as he eyed you.
"What can I get you, bunnies?" He tilted his head, throwing a dishcloth over his arm as if he was a bartender.
You grinned and your friend giggled.
"We'd like tangerines," you stated boldly.
The game was mostly about theft, but no rules applied, meaning that asking for it counted as well. Besides, your goal was to distract Master Lloyd enough that the actual theft could happen...
"Tangerines?" Lloyd whistled. "Wow. You play big game, bunny."
"How big?" You licked your lips and gulped.
A part of you itched to feel that lick of whip, but a bigger part of you wanted to run fast - like the bunny he called you - and hide in a hole.
"You need to earn a tangerine." Lloyd crossed his arms. "With a trick."
"A trick?" You narrowed your eyes, trying to think of something you could do. You weren't a magician, nor a gymnast who could do flips.
Then it suddenly downed on you, your grin broadening.
Maybe you didn't knew some cool tricks, but you had a few from the past college party girl life.
"Can I earn two tangerines, if the trick is really neat?" You asked, linking your arm with your friend's.
"Sure, bunny," Lloyd chuckled.
Head held high, you went over to the counter loaded with smoothies in tall glasses. You picked one and brought it over to where you were standing earlier.
Taking the straw out of the glass, you tossed it aside. Then you crossed your wrists behind your back and leaned forward.
You opened your mouth wide and hovered above the glass for a few deep breaths. Then your mouth was on the glass, cheeks hollowing in a strong suck to keep the glass from falling out as you lifted up your head.
Slowly, not to choke on a rather thick smoothie, you tilted your head back and downed it all.
When you put the glass back down - still without using your hands; you felt slightly dizzy for a second. Then the sense of hilarious euphoria kicked in as you realized you managed to do that.
Judging by Master Lloyd's face, euphoria was the right feeling for the rest of your evening too.
"Bunny," he said, smirk curving his lips, "your mouth can earn a whole crate of tangerines, if you put your mind to it."
He held out two tangerines, which you accepted with a giggle.
"Tell you what," Lloyd leaned forward, "you can earn yourself two more, if you repeat that trick on my cock. And another two for your friend, if you manage not to cum while she licks you when you choke on my dick."
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Ari
The girls were doing great job occupying Master Lloyd, giving you the perfect opportunity for your self-proclaimed ninja stealthy skills.
Having tiptoed to the other side of the bar countertop, you slid yourself across it; hand diving straight into the crate of tangerines, which was left there earlier.
Quickly, you grabbed two in one hand and two in the other. Hugging them to your chest, you wiggled back down.
However, your smile of triumph froze and then fell from your lips as soon as you turned around.
Your Master was standing right behind you, with arms crossed and a displeased look on his face.
Damn it!
You weren't even aware he was anywhere near to spot you. You made sure there was no one other around this side of the club, but somehow Ari detected you.
And sneaked up on you instead. How, you had no idea either. At least you were barefoot, which allowed extra silence to your step. Ari was wearing shoes and still moved so quietly you didn't hear him.
For a split of a second, your gaze drifted above his shoulder, before returning to his beautiful, but stern face.
Slowly, you lowered your arms as if ready to give him the tangerines in defeat.
Before that happened, however, you suddenly tossed the fruit over Ari's shoulder. Surprising him completely.
"Run girls, run!" You yelled.
Two other submissives, who were standing further away, caught the flying tangerines and ran off in opposite directions.
That was the whole main game plan for tonight. All of the submissives working together, so that at least some of them managed to steal and eat tangerines.
Ari's head whipped around the second you yelled. He watched two subs run like mad, squealing in delight (and partly in excitement upon the chase being now on their tail).
When he turned back to you, there was a look of utter disbelief on his face and you barely stopped yourself from snorting in amusement.
And then he burst out laughing. A roaring sound, with head thrown back and arms falling to his sides.
There were crinkles in the corners of his eyes as he looked down at you. Your own lips were curved in a happy smile, feeling blissful joy from making your Master laugh.
"Sacrificing yourself for the greater good, huh?" Ari chuckled, stepping closer.
"Sacrificing?" You asked nervously, taking a tentative step back.
Ari's hand shot up instantly, gripping the back of your neck and yanking you forward.
"Oh, definitely, Cherie." His voice dropped lower.
All of your blood seemed to flood lower, too; pulsing in your clit.
"Theft is punishable. Severely. We'll start by taking your thieving hands out of equation as you serve your atonement."
Though his words evoked a wave of heat, they also made you gulp. Ari's versions of punishments were unpredictable, always wicked. Inquisitors could learn from him.
"Will I get a tangerine afterwards?" You asked, trying for a cute face when he gripped your chin.
"If you're conscious." Ari declared in a deadly dark tone.
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Andy
Having caught two flying tangerines, you made a quick swerve and then purposely slowed down.
Keeping a soft smile on your lips, you walked as if nothing happened. As if you weren't holding a tangerine in each hand, which you tried to hide with the layers of frilly, sheer dress you were wearing.
You passed another sub on your way, right by the bathrooms as you previously agreed. Brushing her hand against yours, seemingly casually, she took one of the tangerines.
You continued on, taking steady steps toward the actually empty submissive's nook - a cozy lounging space for submissives to sit between scenes or wait for their Masters.
Hiding in plain sight.
No one would even think you're bold enough to eat your tangerine of victory out in the open.
Peeling it quickly, you popped first piece into your mouth and smiled. Then another piece. And another. Though you often bought tangerines on your grocery trips, they never tasted like those in the ruby Garden.
Humming in giddy happiness, you scooped the orange peels and wrapped them in a wipe. Boxes of wipes were available all around, quite a necessary item in this kind of club.
You took another layer and wrapped it for good measure, then tossed it into a small bin in the corner.
"Hiding the evidence?" Andy's voice startled you.
You jumped with a squeak, accidentally kicking the bin as you straightened.
"Sir?" You twisted your hands behind you.
Quickly rubbing your palms on the fabric of your dress, you hoped to wipe off any remnants of citrus scent and flavor.
"Everything points to you stealing and eating a tangerine, Birdie." Andy neared, placing both hands on your shoulders and gently massaging them.
"I-" a part of you wanted to confess immediately.
But a part of you - the one that learned under Master Andy's care that playfulness was rewarded too - stopped you from blurting your citrus sins.
"I don't know what you mean, Sir," you replied instead, biting your lip.
"I see." Andy's blue eyes darkened, but his jaw remained relaxed, meaning he wasn't really cross with you.
His hands swiped down your arms, fingers encircling your wrists in a firm grip.
"You've never seen me put a suspect on a stand. Now you'll see it first hand." He linked your wrist cuffs together in front of you. "Let's see how your line of defense holds up after a few rapid rounds."
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Nick
Swiping a tangerine from the other sub's hand, you trotted to the corner of the club that still was marked as unopened after a small renovation.
There was this black lacquered cocoon, not unlike the garden ones, which you wanted to hide and sway in for a while now.
It was supposed to be officially free to use as of the next day, so you didn't think that you hiding there would do any damage. And a hiding place you definitely needed, to follow with your tangerine crime.
You climbed into the cocoon, huffing at the height it was hung on. You snuggled into dark, soft cushions and stuck out one of your foot to push against the wall and get the cocoon rocking slightly.
Then you peeled the tangerine and ate it, with a cheshire grin on your face.
Frowning, when your hideout stopped swaying, you tried to get it into motion again. But it wouldn't budge.
You added more force, but nothing happened.
It downed on you why.
Gulping nervously, you quickly swiped tangerine peels under the cushions and sunk further into them, hoping to disappear.
"Funny," the drawl of Master Nick's voice sent a shiver down your spine, "I can smell citrus, but it's impossible for any to be here, right? Not in the still locked area. Far away from the buffet where the tangerines are supposed to be."
He appeared in your line of vision slowly, hand gliding along the lacquered wicker of the cocoon.
It was his strong hold that stopped the movement of the swing.
"Um, no, Sir," you looked up at him, sweet smile on your face. "Definitely no tangerines here."
"Mhm." He tilted his head to the side, gaze sliding over your body. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip in a slow, tempting motion. "Yet I still can smell it."
"Maybe it's my perfume," you shrugged, surprising yourself with the bold bullshit.
"Could be." Nick nodded, as if taking your argument seriously. "Or a sneaky submissive could've broken the sacred tangerine law and is in need of punishment."
Suddenly he was in your space, half of his body in the cocoon as he caged you in.
"You won't mind, if I sate my curiosity, right Bonbon?"
He took one of your wrists into his hand, lifting your arm and trailing the tip of his nose so slowly against it. From your shoulder to your wrist.
He gently pressed your arm back against the wicker backrest, above the cushions.
Then suddenly your wrist was trapped.
"What the h-" you barely stopped yourself from cursing. You turned your head, neck craning uncomfortably. Only to see your hand cuffed to the backrest.
You haven't noticed the shackles before! Damn it!
Nick was quick to cuff your other wrist as well. When his big hand gripped your ankle, you squeaked.
He forced your leg up, bending it at the knee and pulling it slightly to the side. Your ankle was secured in a cuff at the bottom rim of the cocoon. So was the other.
Leaving you spread like a little frog ready for dissection.
"I'll just probe around, Bonbon," Nick's smile was cruel as he ran his fingertips down your inner thighs.
You realized then, why the cocoon was at this particular height.
Since your exposed pussy was almost perfectly aligned with Master's hips.
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Bucky and Curtis
One of the two tangerines flying from above Master Ari's shoulder almost smacked you right in the face, but you managed to catch it.
With a squeal, you hugged them to your chest and sprinted right.
You hurried to the little nook you have scouted for yourself earlier. Behind a huge potted Areca palm that stood between two couches in the Dom's lounging corner.
Kneeling behind it, you peeled both tangerines. You stuck the peels inside the plant's pot - a win win, really: you got the sweet citruses and hid the evidence, and the palm got free compost.
You were about to munch on your tangerine, when heavy steps neared your tiny corner.
Two sets of heavy steps. Crap.
Trying not to move too rapidly, you peeked from behind green fans of palm leaves. Hoping that they simply walked over to sit and lounge, and that they would go away soon.
Unfortunately for you, Masters Curtis and James (who liked to be called Bucky outside of scene) were standing right in front of the palm, their eyes settled on you.
"Gonna come out of your den, little fawn, or do you need me to yank you out?" Curtis' firm, gruff voice was marginally colored with amusement.
When you didn't move right away, Bucky crouched down. It allowed him to be more at your eye level, but you knew it wasn't to make you feel equal. But so you could really see the icy blue of his ice shine with promise of repercussions.
"See, little fawn," Bucky said, "the worst mistake a prey does is making a sound. And your cute squeak was like a beacon that called to us."
He grinned and you felt your heart rise to your throat. Then it dropped down straight to your clit, making it pulse so rapidly you thought you may come just from their overwhelming, dangerous aura.
Your gaze skittered around, fingers clenching around the two small fruit. There really was no place to run. And you didn't even get to eat your tangerine yet.
Maybe you could stuff one right into your mouth, before you walked out to them?
Just when you were considering defeat, you noticed that the backrest of one of the couches was sloped. There was a nook right at the bottom, a corridor between the wall and the couch.
If you were fast, you could make it.
Especially since there was a set of two coffee tables the Doms had to move around before they could reach the other end of the couch you'd be crawling behind.
You made it look as if you were rounding the big pot, hoping to fool them.
And then you sprinted on your hands and knees, squeezing yourself between the back of the couch and the wall.
Somehow you managed to get free, without getting caught right away. So you fled.
This time not knowing where, only that you had to run away from the big bad monsters. You also really, really hoped they would catch you. Oh God, how you hoped this thrill of chase would explode into another surge of adrenaline and endorphins upon being caught.
As you ran, you passed another submissive. You forced one of the tangerines (slightly squeezed) into her hands and darted forward.
You were sure you're hearing heavy footsteps behind you. You were about to glance over your shoulder to check how close they were on you, when suddenly you slammed into a warm wall of muscles.
Bucky caught you, chuckling at your loud squeak.
Then Curtis was pressing behind you, his shadow cutting out any light and making you breathe harder.
"What to do with a naughty fawn?" Curtis hummed, curling his fingers around the front of your neck and pulling your head backwards, until it rested on his chest.
"I say a spry, sweet venison is best to be roasted," Bucky's arms were still around you, caging your own arms at your sides.
His breath tickled your cheek before he nipped your earlobe.
"Spitroasted."
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Steve
You were obediently staying in place as your Master prepared the bench for what he had planned for you tonight. Already naked, you kept your gaze mostly to the ground, still battling your insecurity to look upwards and bravely face whoever may be glancing your way.
Which is why you didn't see the bolt of heavily breathing submissive darting your way.
Only when you heard the commotion did you look up. Just as she ran past you.
As she did, she dropped something small and sticky into your hands.
Eyes wide in surprise, you watched her run away and Master Curtis prowling right after, determined smile curving his lips.
There was no Master James in sight, which meant he was probably already cutting off the submissive's escape rout.
Your eyes shifted back to what was in your hands and they widened further.
A peeled tangerine.
Sacred, forbidden, so so tempting.
You glanced at Steve, who still had his back to you as he readjusted the straps. For s second you got distracted by the way the muscles in his back flexed as he worked.
But a trickle of citrus juice tickling your finger reminded you of the gold in your hands.
You ripped away one tiny piece and quickly stuffed it in your mouth. In the very last moment you stopped yourself from moaning around it.
Then you popped another piece into your mouth, smiling as the slightly sour flavor mixed with sweetness.
You munched on two pieces at once, squeezing your eyes shut when the juice grazed your throat, nearly causing you to cough.
"Don't choke, Darling." Steve's amused voice almost made you do that.
You turned to him swiftly, one hand flying to cover your still chewing mouth, the other squeezing tangerine tighter.
Blue eyes shimmering with laughter, Steve took your hand and pried it off your face. Crinkles around his eyes seemed to deepen when he saw your puffed cheeks and puckered, juicy mouth.
"I always knew you're magical, but to summon a tangerine without moving from your spot is an astonishing trick," he teased.
He brought your hand to his lips, then licked the juice off your fingertips.
When he let go of your hand, but kept his outstretched, palm up, you knew what he demanded. You placed the tangerine in Steve's hand, with a little regretful sigh.
"Quite a few pieces left still, Darling." Steve glanced at the remaining tiny, orange moons.
"Since I know you're my good girl, I'm sure you'll deserve them when we're done." He ran a single finger along your cheek, then used it to tilt your chin up.
"I'll feed you them myself. Each piece for every orgasm you give me."
Your pupils dilated and your thighs clenched.
There was still at least half of a tangerine remaining. More than three or four pieces. Five perhaps.
"And then-" Steve leaned closer, his lips brushing against yours- "I'll tell you how to steal tangerines, so no one catches you."
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venusstorm · 2 years
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𝙇𝙡𝙤𝙮𝙙 𝙃𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛…𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙮 𝙣𝙤𝙩?
*𝘔𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵>>*
Masterlist | w/c: 650
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*𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘍𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵
*𝘚𝘰𝘧𝘵!𝘓𝘭𝘰𝘺𝘥 𝘏𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯 𝘹 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
୨♡୧
“You mad at me, Princess?” Lloyd coos.
You scowl, turning your head away as he tries to kiss your neck. He reaches for your hand, but you yank it out and flip to the other side of the bed before he gets the chance.
“Oh, so you’re really mad at me tonight.”
He sighs, pushing aside the covers and moving closer to you. His hand rests on your lower back, rubbing it softly in hopes of you breaking your silence.
“Just let me help you.” His tone is gentle, understanding that getting upset wouldn’t make your little attitude disappear.
“Just leave me alone,” you mutter.
“Baby…you can talk to me. I know—"
His presence and proximity begin to overwhelm you, and quickly you find yourself verbally lashing out. “I said. Leave. Me. Alone.”
His movements stop and quickly you feel a dip in the bed as he slides his sweatpants back on and exits the room without another word. Your heart drops but your pride keeps you in place, huffing as the bedroom door shuts, leaving you alone with his lingering scent.
Tears spring from your eyes as you try your best to push the thoughts away.
He doesn’t actually want you. He’s gone for days, sometimes weeks at a time. He’ll find someone prettier, less needy. For fucks sake he’s Lloyd Hansen, why would he settle down with you of all people?
You constantly battled with insecurity, anxious that the love you have for others would never truly be reciprocated.
Lloyd would do anything for you, yet you’re laying here, scared that one day he’d get up and leave and never return.
And it only worsened when he was away for work, just you alone in this big house, painting and waiting like Rapunzel trapped in her tower.
As time passed you grew frantic. You latched onto his pillow, inhaling his scent until you grew dizzy.
A soft knock sounds on the door and unknowingly you release a heavy sigh of relief. He came back.
“Princess? I got you something.”
The door swings open, revealing a tin of your favorite cookies from the bakery near town, held tightly within his hands.
“They didn’t have milk chocolate so I got fudge. I hope that’s o—"
His face drops once he sees the tears streaming down your cheeks. You’re hiccuping, sniffling into your shirtsleeve with pure guilt. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.
Lloyd drops the cookies onto the dresser, racing to your side. “I hate seeing you like this, Princess. Just tell me what’s wrong and I swear I’ll do everything in my power to mend it.”
You hiccup. “It’s hard.”
“What’s hard, baby?”
“Being without you for so long. Waiting. I— I can’t stop thinking the worst. What if this isn’t the life you want? What if I’m not the life you want?”
He frowns, his eyebrows furrowed because Lloyd can’t possibly imagine a life where you weren’t his sweet girl. His Princess. “I’ll always want you,” he assures.
Lloyd presses his forehead against yours. His steady breath tickles your nose, his lips parted to speak. “Being away from you is the hardest part of my job. I’ll be bruised and bloody, a gun aimed at someone’s forehead and yet, the only thing on my mind is you. Always just wanna get home to you.”
You sob into his shoulder, your arms wrapping around his neck as you release a floodgate of emotions.
“I’m sorry for snapping at you. I know I’m being stupid. I know you love me. It’s just…sometimes I get scared.”
“Hey, shh. It’s okay, pretty girl. I know it gets hard for you. Don’t ever feel guilty for feeling emotions. Just talk to me next time and we can work through it together. Okay?”
You nod, your eyes glazed and wide as you finally look at his piercing gaze. “Okay.”
Lloyd grins as he pushes himself off the ground, pressing his soft lips against yours. You groan as he grows rougher, his body joining you beneath the tangled mess of sheets.
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onsunnyside · 2 years
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Ok but Lloyd, having you lying down naked on the table in front of him, worshiping your body while he's giving orders to his team, smacking your pussy/cheek every time you let out a whimper 😵‍💫
 mean!lloyd may be my favourite lloyd 
𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Lloyd Hansen x reader
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut - minors dni, exhibitionism/lloyd being nasty & mean, pussy slapping, fingering (f), daddy kink, dirty talk, degradation, dumbification, overstimulation, squirting. mentioned: knife play, gun play.
𝗪/𝗖 | 540
❤️‍🔥 𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐱 𝐇𝐢𝐦 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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“Sir, that isn’t what protocol is.”
Lloyd blinks, “You’re new here.”
“Uh, only by a few weeks.” The young man replies, soon realizing he should have stayed silent. 
“Of course, it’s always the newbies.” The brunet sighs, his arm flexes, his fingers knuckle-deep between your thighs. “I know you’ve heard of me, so you must know those rules you follow back at HQ mean less than dogshit to me. As does your opinion, and anything else that comes out of that fuckhole mouth of yours.” 
A sharp whimper brings him back down, and he glances at his hand. Your juices leak down his wrist to his watch, only adding to the growing mess under you. You cry out again and fist your shirt, the only thing Lloyd let you keep on while he played with you—in the sick and twisted way he often did, in front of his team during a meeting while planning hits as if you weren’t there. 
“What? Are you going to talk back too?” He asks, swatting your soaked cunt, the lewd noise bouncing off the walls. “This isn’t punishment enough, baby?”
You desperately shake your head, toes curling in pleasure as he lands a series of slaps on your throbbing clit. Teased beyond relief, you can barely breathe. You didn’t expect to last this long, but you knew it was only a matter of time until you could no longer stay quiet. 
“Dumb little girl—can’t even let daddy work, can’t even stay quiet for me. Should’ve gagged you instead, make you warm me with your mouth. Bet you’d fucking love that.” He huffs, “Always has to steal my attention, fucking slut.” Lloyd harshly rubs your clit, bullying the sensitive button while you squirm and whine on the wooden table. 
Your back arches as you gasp, and euphoria rushes in. It takes you by storm, and your vision goes white. All you feel is Lloyd and his torture, and all his mean words jumble into something incoherent. 
Lloyd watches you squirt and soak his sleeve and the table. Your cunt flutters and begs for something, his fingers, his knife or his gun—he’s tempted to give in, but you don’t deserve it. Not after being so interruptive and ungrateful. He slaps you once you’ve come back down, and you squeal, legs snapping shut around his forearm. 
“You,” He nods at the man from earlier and his predictions are confirmed. His gaze is locked on you with lamely concealed lust, “You stay, everyone else, out.” 
As the other people file out of the office, the young man remains seated at the table, practically shaking in his chair. “You can’t look away from my girl, huh? She’s a real treasure.” Lloyd prys your thighs apart, ignoring your pleas for a break. “Daddy’s busy right now, pumpkin, shut up.” Another swat and you fall slack on the table. 
“I’m gonna show you exactly why she’s mine, I’ll let you look at her while I fuck her stupid—and that’ll be the last thing you’ll ever see.” He finishes just as the last guard leaves, and the door locks after him. “I’d get comfortable if I were you. Even though she looks exhausted, my baby’s quite insatiable after being teased so much.” 
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What he wants | Lloyd Hansen
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 -> Husband!Lloyd Hansen x Wife!Reader
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> Lloyd always gets what he wants even when you play games to tease him.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 384
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> 18+, Minors DNI, allusion of smut, talking about smut
𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 -> Lloyd Hansen + “I told you to be good” @imtryingbuck
𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for the request, hehe.
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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“Spread your legs. Now,” Lloyd says the eighth time in five minutes.
Slowly he gets impatient; everyone is doing whatever he wants, especially whenever he wants, but then there is you. Sitting in front of him, smirking at him, and not doing what he wants.
Your back rests against the backrest of the couch, and you look playfully at your husband, who is kneeling in front of you. His day was stressful, and he wants nothing more than to have a taste of your — his — sweet pussy to calm down. And you, his wife, act like she is the one who doesn’t have to listen when he asks for something.
“I said now, babe.”
“And I don’t do what you ask for when you’re not asking nicely.”
Lloyd groans; he’s never asked nicely for something he wants. Lloyd gets what he wants, however he asks. But then there is you, the one person who should let him do to you whatever he wants, but you deny him what he is carving for.
You run your fingers through his brown hair while he grasps your thighs, his fingers digging into the softness of your skin. Forcefully, he pushes your thighs apart and pulls you closer toward him, his head buried between your legs, and he inhales deeply. You’re tugging surprised at his hair, pulling him even closer, but he just kisses your thighs, smirking when you whine and wiggle to make him eat you out. Lloyd smirks sarcastically at you, moving one of his hands closer to your pussy, but just an inch before he pulls his hand back.
“I told you to be good. Now there are consequences,” he says, grinning even wider when he thinks about everything he could do with you while you beg him to come. “I’m gonna fuck you, and you won’t come, not until I allow you to do so.”
You moan; buckle your hips. You know when he says you’re allowed to come, when he allows you to do so, it will be a long night. This man has way more stamina than you thought a man could have — you don’t complain, but it’s mostly a long night with not much sleep and at least a few days walking like his cock is still buried between your folds.
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𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @etherealdisneyvillainness
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ronearoundblindly · 3 months
Note
Lloyd Hansen x Reader kiss
On a place of insecurity
Warnings for LLOYD IS ALWAYS AN 18+ CHARACTER--he's f***ing dark, ok?? Elements of bondage, force-feeding, finger-sucking, use of toys, and body issues. Smuuuuuuuuuut. [Lloyd, uh, he has no problems with your body, though. Or his. 🥴] Minors DNI. There's plenty to keep you busy on my Light Masterlist, but this is not for you! WC 2731
⚠️Yo, this is graphic for me. 🙈 FINAL WARNING 🥵 I will see you in hell... 🥂🧁💃🏽💦🥴💀
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Most of the time, when covered, none of it bothers you, the pieces of your body that aren’t just-so, the remnants of things you liked that have since evolved into…more. That’s the truth of it. There is simply more of you than there used to be. Some of it is fine; all of it should be, but a perfect outlook is impossible when staring at your reflection in the luxurious, crimson nightgown he’s bought you.
A lot of the not-so-perfect can be hidden in the dark. It can be hidden by focusing on him and ignoring yourself. It can be glossed over with little lies like “the bigger, the better” and “more to love.”
Lloyd didn’t bring you something tiny to squeeze into. There’s a seam of support in the satin that tucks under your breasts, so those look nice. It’s long to your ankles and tapered wide enough to fit your hips. You have to suck in your stomach, but that’s nothing new. Only one great flaw remains, and spaghetti straps aren’t doing shit to cover it.
The fucking armpit fat.
Your little roll of shame and frustration that no matter how you hold your shoulders or position your arms is just there.
“You like all your presents, sunshine?”
Lloyd pops around the bathroom doorway, taking a huge bite out of one of the cupcakes he bought, pretty, pink-frosted, red velvet things covered in sugar pearls and edible glitter.
All of the adornments get stuck in his mustache, but he remains unfazed. He’s a man who likes to be looked at but doesn’t care if he’s seen.
And he's a messy eater…of certain things.
You don’t exactly have that same confidence. Impulsively, you smooth the nightie over your hips and run your tongue over your teeth. Since Lloyd is not typically a giver--of gifts or anything else--this whole night is an unknown.
He does love to make people uncomfortable though; that’s one of Lloyd Hansen’s greatest joys.
“Looking good enough to eat,” he says with a smack of his frosted lips. He rounds the frame, another cupcake in hand as an offering. “Here.”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”
A knee-jerk reaction. A practiced statement. Little lies.
He downs the rest of his cake with a satisfied pout, dramatically fitting his mouth over the tall, decadent dessert, as he stands flush to your back in the mirror. He squints at something off with the picture and oh-so-carefully fixes a strand of your hair.
He’s looking very, very intensely, and you hope he’s seeing nothing at all.
His eyes flicker down to your stomach. “Wearing the panties?”
You nod.
“Then get your sweet ass on that bed. I’m waiting.” He spanks you, smirking.
As you nudge past him, the thick pearls of the beaded thong roll through you folds and over your clit, dry but smooth. When you sit on the mattress, you lean on your arms, attempting to push your chest out and flatten that curve just above them.
 Lloyd sidles over to stand at your feet, holding up your cupcake again, one eyebrow raised mockingly.
“Maybe later,” you shrug, but your voice comes out breathy. It’s difficult to keep your stomach taut at this angle and speak at the same time, but his gaze is unrelenting.
He sucks his cheek in and lets it click, clearly disappointed, but after a beat, he puts the food down on the bedside table and picks up a thin, silver remote.
“That’s twice, sunshine.”
Holding the controller up by his head, Lloyd presses a button two times and the pearls between your legs spring to life. The beads vibrate. They are Lloyd’s beads.
“Up—“ he points “—hands up.”
Though your thighs fight to stay clenched, you move, shifting up the soft comforter, gliding over embroidery in your silky sheath. When your back hits the headboard, your arms go above your head, crossed, just like he likes you.
Out of his back pocket, he pulls out jeweled cuffs, an oddly festive addition to an occasion you didn’t think he’d give a shit about. Lloyd never struck you for a Valentine’s Day lover, much less a lover of Valentine’s Day, but who would go through all this without at least some enthusiasm for the holiday?
The remote for your thong gets tossed into the covers while he climbs over you.
“Now,” he instructs with a smile, deftly snapping one bracelet over one wrist, stringing the short lead through the rungs of the iron headboard, and securing the other tightly. He scoots backwards to haul you down the bed with him, the nightie bunched up to the fullest part of your hips and the vibrations pushed deeper into your cunt. He leans over you carefully, hands on his own clothed thighs, and sharpens his attention. 
“Is there anything in my ’stache?”
You burst out laughing because, indeed, it does look like an arts and crafts hour exploded in the coarse hairs.
Lloyd chuckles, too. “No? Okay, then let’s—“
“Yes,” you squeal before he can smear the sticky glitter onto your neck.
“Help me out then.” He inches closer to your mouth, pouting. “Go on. Clean me up.”
Dead serious, Lloyd shoves his lips into yours and lets you keep pausing to laugh between licking and scraping the icing off with your teeth. This is the cutest, stupidest thing he's ever done, and yet, also, somehow romantic?
You finish with a peck to his actual lips, and he reciprocates.
“Good girl,” he coos. “Good, little liar, you are hungry.”
Abruptly, he dismounts the bed and begins undressing.
“Why do you insist on doing that?” He untucks his shirt and rips it overhead. “Haven’t I done well?” His voice is strained with annoyance. His belt clinks as his pants hit the floor, boxers and all. “Aren’t you happy?”
The only item left on him is the gold chain necklace he never takes off, so resting his hands on his hips, waiting, becomes quite the distracting sight.
When you don’t answer, he presses down on the bed beside you, bare ass in the air. “Little liar…I asked you a question.”
You nod forcefully, biting your sweetened lip and switching the position of your legs. The shimmying pearls are slick now. The sensation takes your focus.
Your whole body twitches when Lloyd nuzzles his face into the side of your stomach. It can’t be rocket-science to know that you suck in as much as possible, but he sure as shit can’t miss that you’re tensed.
“Well, if you can’t be honest with me,” he fake-whines against your gut before lifting his head, sighing, “I’m going to assume what I want is best…”
The vibrations intensify, the toy getting louder, but you can’t see the remote in his hand.
“…whether you like it or not.”
Don’t you always, you think, because of course that is the point, and if you had to bet, he means anal, probably mildly degrading. At least you’ll be facing away, or bent down. He makes it feel good but only since it happens to be pleasurable for him, too. That kind of attention from him doesn’t bother you. It feels like being looked at but not seen. You exist but you don’t matter.
Usually.
Tonight has been entirely different. He’s giving orders, but the commands save him no time. They prolong your exhibition; they amuse him. Lloyd is playing with you on Valentine’s Day, and his idea of fun is torture.
You rub your thighs together at the mere thought.
He notices that, and Lloyd’s face lights up.
“Liars—“ he props himself on his elbows, reaching for the pooled satin still covering your core “—get punished, right?” His eyes twinkle. The gown raises with his fingers dragging over your skin, and he hums approval. “Let me see.”
Clenched in this exact spot, the beads bring you so close you’re almost shaking, and you can’t find the will to move. The current is too powerful.
Lloyd is stronger and far less tolerant.
He hops back up to the bed, immediately sliding his hands between your knees and forcing you to spread wide. The rush of exposure cools the building steam inside you, body pinned down beneath the stark naked man half-chubbed and bobbing atop you.
He replaces the hands holding your legs open with his knees and reaches to the bedside table.
He’s brought the other cupcake, perhaps to eat while watching you come, perhaps to have you clean off more remnants, but Lloyd doesn’t bring the treat to his lips.
He pinches your side harshly.
“Open up,” he says with grin.
This is wicked even for him.
Your arms pull at the restraints on instinct.
“Uh-uh. Remember, I know best.” His smile isn’t dimmed in the slightest as he lowers the cake to your mouth.
It’ll be worse if you don’t just get it over with. He’ll make you do it somehow, some way, so you open up, struggling to fit the towering frosting without crumbs going everywhere.
You eat.
You chew and you swallow and you tell him you’re happy.
And this time he sees. He makes little noises as if he’s the one feeling the cake melt in his mouth, as if he’s experiencing the different textures of silky cream and tiny crunchy pearls, as if he enjoys the melding of the gritty glitter with the rich dough while he relishes the last bite.
Before you even finish chewing he’s watching all of you again, hands roaming your satin second skin.
“Such a pretty fucking liar,” he groans, unabashedly staring down at the glazed beads stretched across you from clit to asshole. The thong isn’t enough to get you off in this position, and the tease of release forces you to roll your hips, failing to find friction, humping the air inches below his now rock-hard cock.
“Look at you! Nice and plump like I like ya.” He slaps your inner thigh. “Wouldn’t be the same without this jiggle.” At the word, he shakes your love handles and enjoys the ripple across your body. 
You almost protest but the cake has coated your throat and made you salivate. It’s difficult to clearly speak.
He doesn’t fucking care; he’s playing.
“Can’t have you go hungry… Like your mouth stuffed, don’t you?”
Lloyd forces two of his sticky-sweet fingers onto your tongue, anchoring them with a firm thumb curled beneath your chin, digging ever-so-slightly into the soft flesh past your mandible.
“And now that you’re not starving—“ the index finger of his free hand laces under the top pearl “—you can focus on more important things.” He sweeps his finger down, the entire bent knuckle entering you only to drag out again.
A shiver races up your spine.
You try to ask for more, more anything, but you can’t budge his fingers.
“Focus, cupcake.”
Lloyd leans down, low enough to press his face to yours, his cold necklace slithering over your décolleté.
“Jiggle for me,” he husks in your ear.
His free hand continues to grope and squeeze at you, anywhere you’d rather not be on display, everything you don't want under the spotlight of his attention.
“Let go,” he growls when he catches you still contorting to the most flattering stretch you can manage. His fingers press warningly in your mouth.
Whatever you do or don’t do in response is not enough for him, and he straightens one leg out at a time, unpinning you only to shove his full weight back down, his abs muffling the sound of the pearls as they get sandwiched between you.
“I have to do everything.” He sounds so mad even though he guides your ankles to cross behind him, even though he rocks his hips with yours.
And then the worst possible thing happens.
Fingers deep down your drooling throat, Lloyd Hansen latches his lips onto that little roll above your breast, and you come. Just like that, a man practically tongue-fucks your armpit fat, and you goddam yelp in the heat of your orgasm.
It’s exactly what he fucking wanted.
You shake while your cunt spasms, empty save some toy jewelry and the proximity of a chiseled torso, and, yes, pieces of you jiggle. You can’t do shit to stop it. You don’t want to because he made it feel so good.
Of course, he continues.
His mouth moves down to the satin seam of the nightie where your tit is spilling out. He bites at your nipple through the fabric. He tickles your sternum with his facial hair and stops thrusting his erection where it pokes at your ass. All of this he does while you keep coming.
Nonchalant, unhurried, Lloyd takes his fingers out of your mouth, sits back on his heels, and engulfs the base of his cock with a vice grip, letting the thong overstimulate you for a good three-count while he sucks his teeth and ponders.
He finally reaches over to switch off the vibrations.
You’re gasping after a copious amount of spit has dribbled to your chest and spread.
His eyes have never looked so dark.
“You’re right, sunshine. We shouldn’t waste a drop.”
Faster than you can register, he unlocks the cuffs and lets you put your arms down to regain feeling, still using his spit-lubed fingers to smear over his length.
He ignores how you baby your wrists after the unpadded metal and pinches your jaw open, elated when saliva immediately flows out. 
“Just like to look at you this way,” Lloyd sighs. 
He peels the thin straps of the nightie down your arms and plucks out each breast, humming in appreciation at the heft of them. He rises to his knees, pumps the underside of his length over your slick sternum before encasing it in your warm flesh with a brutal hold.
His breath comes heavy and jagged behind his smile, so fucking pleased with himself and his plan, gold chain bouncing on his chest in mimicked rhythm.
“More,” he hisses, knowing you’re watching—gawking, really,—so your head drops to glob spit on his peeping red tip.
This view is just as engrossing. You see the full girth of him displace the volume of your tits, choked mushroom head seeming to drown beneath the wave only to leak for salvation at each crest.
Lloyd’s babbling provides the commentary for how far gone his control is.
“Think of all I can fit in you—unf shit—could fuck your thick thighs or—oh—tuck in between those ass cheeks—long as that fucking mouth of yours is full—pussy better be juicy as a ripe peach when I slide in...”
Even when you aren’t allowed to see his face, the strangled cry of him nearing climax is enough make your clit throb with hope for more.
“GAH! That’s it. Here you go.” He pushes up harder from beneath you, remaining in the embrace of your chest as the first spurt of cum hits your bottom lip. “Show me—show me you’re a good eater.”
There is no hint of a question. He knows you only need praise to obey.
Lloyd milks himself into you agonizingly slow, unhinged moans tumbling out the more you suckle his head, and true to his word, he makes sure not a single drop is wasted before finally releasing your sore breasts.
Still panting from exertion, he pushes you back on the bed by the throat and kisses you, tasting of salty-sweet cream, or rather, that’s probably you by now. He pulls back to let out a whoop of satisfaction and dismounts.
Though you have yet to sit up, too dazed to recompose without a hard reset, Lloyd tosses a water bottle between your legs. You snatch it up with all the speed of slug dried out by the sun and chug nearly half before tilting your head back and closing your eyes.
Shit, if this is what it feels like to be looked at and seen, maybe bigger is better…
You think there will be more of a break since he’s gotten off, but instead Lloyd sucks his teeth, demanding your attention as he picks up another two pink-frosted cakes.
“Time for your next course, pretty thing. The night is young.”
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Steve Rogers and a kiss after a small rejection ⬅️ ➡️ Jake Jensen and a kiss to shut them up
[Main Masterlist; Valentine's Fics 2024; Ko-Fi]
@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @spectre-posts @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn 
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vellicore · 7 months
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Order Me Around Summary: Your relationship with Lloyd Hansen could be summed up with one word — toxic.
Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader
Warnings: spitting, choking, rough sex (p in v), degradation, humiliation, Lloyd Hansen (yes he's a warning), hate sex
A/N: As always my blog and writing are intended for adults only. 18+ Only. All mistakes and errors are my own. You do not have permission to copy or translate my work. Pay attention to all warnings provided. You are responsible for your own media consumption. PLEASE DO NOT REPORT MY WORK. Divider by @cafekitsune KINKTOBER 2023 MASTERLIST
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You never knew how sex with Lloyd was going to be. It was as if every time, he aimed to surprise you with something new. It didn’t help that 8/10 times the two of you were hate fucking. 
Your current situation occurred because you decided to go against his orders. You knew that you’d be able to get to the target despite his objections. Just as you had expected, you took down the asshole with no issues. But that didn’t stop Lloyd from being pissed. 
The two of you spent close to half an hour screaming at one another before he had you shoved up against the wall. 
“You think you’re real cute, don’t you, Sunshine? You’d think I’d have fucked the brat out of you by now.” You hated how his words went straight down to your cunt. Even more so, you hated the whimper that left your lips. 
Before you knew it, clothes were being discarded across the room. Your hands pawed at his chest, scratching down his muscular chest. 
“I didn’t say you could touch me.” He spats before thrusting hard into your weeping cunt. All you could do was moan in response. Your arms go lax to your sides. 
Lloyd manages a couple of hard thrusts before his hand moves to your throat. He caresses his thumb along your pulse point before his grip tightens. This wasn’t the first time he’d choked you. But this was the first time he did it so tightly. 
You couldn’t tell if you were more turned on or scared at this point. It certainly felt like both as his hips continued to drive in you. Each thrust causes your pussy to clench around him.
“Is this all I have to do? Squeeze this little neck of yours until you listen. Well, let’s see if you’ve actually learned a lesson.” His hand then moves from your throat to your cheeks and squeezes. Without warning, he spits directly into your mouth. “Be a good whore, and swallow. We both know how much you love it.” 
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imyourbratzdoll · 9 months
Note
What about stepdaughter reader who isnt innocent and likes getting fucked by step daddy lloyd even both doing it in hopes to get caught so she has lloyd to herself
hey honey! I'm sorry for taking so long, but I hope you like it! I added a little twist at the end.
summary - you have been sleeping with your stepfather, and someone happens to catch you.
warning - smut, voyeurism, creampie, cheating, masturbating, semi-public sex, squirting.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips
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“Fuck, you’re such a fucking slut.” Lloyd growls, slamming into you from behind. His hands grip your hips tightly, grunting at how tight you feel wrapped around his cock. “Not so fucking innocent, huh? You just love being fucked by your stepdad.” You grip the edge of the pool, water splashing with every thrust. Lloyd’s hand wraps around your throat, bending you backwards until your back arches. “You just had to tease me in the pool, didn’t you? You don’t even care that your mother is in the kitchen.” 
Your cunt clenches at his words, and the thought of finally getting caught turns you on to no end. You had been sneaking around with your stepfather for a while now and wanted your mum out of the picture. “Daddy! It feels so good! I’m your slut!” You rest your head on his shoulder as he pounds into you, splitting you from the inside and causing your walls to spasm. You push back into him, grinding your arse against his thrusts. “You fuck me so good, Daddy. Better than anyone else.” You moan a little too loudly, but you don’t care. Too lost in pleasure to notice your neighbour Mr Levinson watching from his backyard, gripping his hardened member and slowly stroking it up and down to your moans and the sight of you getting fucked by your stepdad.
Lloyd grunts, picking up his pace. “I better be the only one your fucking.” He buries himself deep into you. His hand moves to the front of you and begins to rub your swollen clit, loving how you squeeze him. “You better cum around me, sunshine. Let your mum and the neighbours hear how hot you sound at getting fucked.” He fucks you harder and faster, feeling his balls tighten and his cock twitch as his end approaches, but he holds back, wanting you to cum first. 
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Daddyyyyy!” You scream, throwing your head back as your walls clench and unclench around him, squirting around his thick member and into the pool. Your head falls forward, resting against the edge of the pool as Lloyd continues to fuck into you until he grunts and cums deep into you, burying into you until his cum leaks out. 
“Fuck, sunshine. I hope you get fucking pregnant after this. I want everyone to know that I own you.” He presses a kiss to the back of your head, slowly pulling out of your tight cunt and tucking himself back into his trunks. 
You spin around and press a soft kiss to his lips. The two of you don’t notice your mum watching you through the window, a saddened but not shocked look on her face. Lloyd wraps your legs around his waist, holds onto you, caresses your cheek, and looks into your eyes lovingly. “I love you, my little sunshine.”
“I love you too, Daddy.”
Ari grins darkly, his cum painted on the fence as he tucks his softened cock back into his jeans. He finally has something to use against the two of you to get what he wants. Maybe he and Lloyd can come to an agreement, perhaps even share you for when the two of them need a release. 
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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georgiapeach30513 · 1 month
Text
With Your Touch, Part 2
Summary: Lloyd has some rules, and very little control.
Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Au Pair!Reader
Rating: explicit
Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual tension, video sex, a bit of voyeurism, implied male masturbation, teasing, daddy issues, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 5.9K
Previous
Series Masterlist
*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
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“Shh, sweetheart. We’ve got to tell your daddy you need a proper middle name. Unless you’re European. Can you tell me if you are?” Lyla giggles a bit, reaching a hand up to touch your face. “Oh, I knew it. You want one. So what do you think your dad will like an A name? A B name?” The baby squeals so loud you hear Lloyd’s loud banging stop. Pausing while he focuses on Lyla’s voice.
“Was that a good sound or bad? I haven’t learned her noises. Cries. Voice. I don’t know what the correct terminology would be, but I haven’t learned it.”
“It isn’t bad. She’s communicating with me.”
“What?” His voice is laced in so much confusion that you find it so endearing. He was obnoxious, but trying. His rules for you as the au pair were a bit too much, but the pay was ridiculously good. And Chase didn’t live too far. He could sneak in.
You walk into Lyla’s room, wanting to laugh as Lloyd curses at the crib he was trying to put together. Looking down at the sweet baby in your arms as her daddy throws something else, “He’s pitching a fit.”
“No the — no, I’m not. This stupid thing is impossible with these dumbass directions. And she can’t sleep in her bedroom. I don’t want her to sleep in the portable crib anymore. I want her to have a space of her own. I highly doubt her whore of a mother gave her that. And yes, she is. Any woman that drops off a baby with their father who knows fuck all about kids is a whore and shitty human being. And Lyla, I apologize. I’m working on not talking like an asshole around her.”
Working on it, and failing miserably, it is still cute he thinks he’s going to change that quickly. Even just acknowledging that type of language isn’t suitable for her is a start. “And here I am in over my head, putting together an overly pink bedroom for her because she didn’t ask to be born, and I am extra.”
“Yeah, designer baby clothes aren't what a lot of parents do.”
“How did your father dress you?”
Chuckling, you put Lyla in her carrier. You place her slightly behind, but still beside Lloyd, and plant yourself beside him, grabbing up the directions. “Roman didn’t dress me. My mother did. Roman might have paid for things, but my mom was the one that was there always. So you’re doing a lot better than him.”
“Is this a moment you tell me you have daddy issues?”
Snorting, you look up at him, shaking your head no, “This is me telling you my experience with my father. Having a dad in a girl’s life makes a difference. I call him Roman. What do you want Lyla to call you?”
“Dad.”
“You know you didn’t hesitate?” Taking a deep inhale, Lloyd grabs the directions from you, busying himself in reading them. You don’t think he actually is looking at them, he’s absorbing what you said, while also refusing to look at you and show you his vulnerability. “Speaking of which, why doesn’t she have a middle name?”
“Why does she need one?”
“What’s your middle name?” You counter quickly, and he leans back. His eyes gazing over your body. Wondering where the hell you came from because clearly you didn’t know who he was.
He narrows his eyes, looking at you and then his daughter. Lyla can’t help but to giggle at him. Tiny little thing. You wonder if she was malnourished or just a bit miniature anyways. “Bennett,” he waits to see if you react before continuing. “Why does she need one?”
“Beatrice,” he looks down at the baby who chuckles again. “She likes you, and she told me she wanted a name that started with B, and now I find out your name starts with a B. I think you and your daddy are a perfect pair, don’t you Miss Lyla Bee?” Despite whatever nonsense her mother had her living in, she's a happy baby. One that is very much aware of her daddy. Her bright green eyes focus on him when he looks at her.
“Lyla Bee. I like that. She’s like my little bumble bee. Should we get rid of all the pink and change it to bumble bees? Did I make a mistake with the pink? What if she doesn’t like pink?”
You shrug your shoulders. It really didn’t matter what she liked. She seemed to like her dad, and he adored her, and wanted to do right by her. “I think we should keep the pink. Here, you tend to the baby, and let me have a go at this crib. You’re messing everything up. And she really likes you.”
“But you’re the au pair?” He says, holding onto Lyla. He gives his finger to her, and her little baby fingers wrap around him tightly.
“And you’re mucking up this crib. Can I? I helped my mom with my little brother’s crib. It was a long time ago. But,” you go silent, grabbing the directions back from Lloyd. Using the same tactic he did earlier. Focus on this and ignore the questions, “No, Roman is not his father.”
“Didn’t ask,” he didn’t have to. Everyone else did. Your brother was an angel, and his father was…well, he was there. He made sure that Vincent was taken care of. Might not have offered you any attention, but you weren’t his responsibility.
“You thought it, so that was enough. I like the simple, but extravagant theme you went for in her bedroom though. Even if the Dior bunny is a bit much.”
“She likes it,” he chuckles, looking down at his daughter. “My partner told me buying things is my love language.”
“You must really love your daughter then,” he whispers out ‘yeah’, not realizing how much it hurts you that he loves someone he just met. And your father knew about you during the pregnancy. You didn’t have daddy issues. You had men issues. Men couldn’t be trusted. There were to be looked at, and put to good use.
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You flop down on the seat next to Lloyd on the couch with a cup of microwave macaroni and cheese. You take a bite of the easy dinner, glancing at the television while Lloyd scowls. His eyes drift over your body, slightly confused. Watching as your jaw pulses with your chews.
“I feel you watching me,” he didn’t hide his facial expressions. You could read exactly what he was thinking by the quirks of his brows and mouth alone. Not that you had been paying attention to his mouth.
“What is that dreadful shit you’re eating?”
You turn your body towards him, and slowly take another bite. Noting how his eyes go to your mouth as he watches you chew in disgust. “It only took three and a half minutes to make.”
“It smells like it did. But what are you eating?” This man has been rich his entire life. Didn’t even know the joys of microwaveable food.
“It’s mac and cheese,” you giggle. Scooping out a bit, and you hold the spoon out for him. “Try it.”
“I’d rather not,” his face no longer disgusted, but more indifferent.
“Because you’re scared to eat after me?” He rolls his eyes as you take another bite of the sinfully delicious and preservative filled dinner. It probably had too much sodium in it, and the way you dressed it up surely didn’t help. But it was simple and comforting all the same. Lloyd could learn to loosen up a bit. Bring himself down to a ‘normal lifestyle’.
“While sharing a spoon with you does repulse me. The idea of eating something that came out of a microwave is just as disgusting. Did your father not feed you well?”
“Roman,” you emphasize his name. One day Lloyd would understand that Roman was nothing but a sperm donor and a bank. “He didn’t feed me. My mother did. And she wanted me to be normal.”
“Eating proper food is normal,” you liked him. Legitimately liked him. He also didn’t get offended when you popped back. He probably always had someone around him ready to take orders. That is until you.
“I mean have the American dream.”
“Yes, the American dream is definitely to eat food that is cheaper than toilet paper.”
Slowly blinking, you watch him watch you. Something that should be uncomfortable with the lack of a baby as a buffer wasn’t. You wanted to bring him back down to earth. He was a bit pompous and a lot of an asshole, and you still liked it. “I’m going to make you a cup.”
“Please don’t,” his voice is flat as he watches you jump up from the couch.
“And you’re going to at least try it.”
“I’d rather not,” he is too stiff and robotic with his movements. You want to reach over to his shoulders and make him slouch. Maybe if you made him laugh or shook him? Made him dance with you? You were going to make him break.
“And after you’ve tried it, if you still think the same we can drop it. But what I put into my body is my business. What you put into yours is your business. We won’t judge one another. You can oblige me by cooking me and Lyla Bee a delicious dinner one evening. I’ll humor you, and try your rich people food, mkay?”
This isn’t at all what Lloyd had bargained for. A girl who was given no boundaries. But you had helped him get Lyla’s bedroom in order. She was even sleeping soundly in her crib while a monitor sat on the coffee table. You hadn’t complained when he would start throwing things in a fit. And somehow managed to calm him down.
“Fine, but I don’t cook. I have a private chef,” he responds, following you into the kitchen. Eyeing you as you go into the pantry. “Where did this come from?”
Sighing, you open up the fridge producing a container of shredded cheese, and walk to the counter. “I had it delivered while you were taking a nap with Lyla. It’s really cute to see you sleeping with a baby on your chest. You know, I could watch her. Nap time leaves me nothing to do but use Roman’s card to have some food delivered here.”
“I read you should try to bond with your baby whenever you can. I missed time with her. Wait — you were watching me sleep?” It was quick, but you saw his smirk. Did he like you watching him sleep? That almost feels like an invasion of privacy. Or did he like that you looked at him? Called him cute? What was this?
“It got quiet in the apartment. So I went to find you,” and you might have wandered around the giant apartment as well. His bedroom was just the first place you looked. And you might have enjoyed what you saw, and you might have created a quick but stupid scenario of your husband doing that. Not Lloyd in particular, just a blank faced man who may or may not have had a mustache.
“You’re a snoop?”
“I’m curious by nature,” it wasn’t a lie. You weren’t looking for something to hurt or burn Lloyd with. Just wanted to give a gander through everything. “So what exactly are my hours? When you’re here do you want me to be here? Can I request time off? Have a social life? You won’t exactly let me have people here, and I do respect that. This is yours and Lyla’s space, and I know with your line of work discretion is advised. But I can’t have my only friends be you and a baby. I do have a boyfriend, and I fear I won’t if I don’t see him.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Lloyd smirks. That smile dies quickly as he watches you mix up the cheese concoction to the now completed noodles, and slide the disposable container to him. “You’re not going to put this in a real bowl?”
After washing your hands, you splash a bit of water on him. Giggling when his face turns into a snarl, “Loosen up. This is microwave food. And I need to see other people. Do you not like Chase?”
“His name is dumb,” rolling your eyes, you look away from him. Listening for any signs of movement on the monitor while Lloyd takes a tentative bite of the mac and cheese. Curling up his nose until the spoon touches his tongue, and you see his eyebrows go up. “But this isn’t that bad.”
“What’s wrong with his name?”
“Chase is a verb,” he answers matter of fact. He was going to be one of those. Complete alpha male, and you were bringing someone into his home that was hurting his ego. You weren’t even sure if Chase was the one, but he is definitely the one right now. You didn’t meet your forever person in college, and you’re not even sure you believe in that. You just find someone you tolerate and make sure the sex is good. Plus Chase was amazing to look at and a lot of fun.
“And I don’t want boys in and out of Lyla Bee’s life,” he liked the way the nickname you gave her sounded. It suited his sweet little bee. She had proven to be the sweetest and most cuddly baby he’d ever met. But he had only met one.
“I can respect that as long as you respect the fact that he is my boyfriend,” Lloyd didn’t really want to or have to for that matter. But you were new to this life and to him. You’d eventually see that Lloyd commanded all. Not that he would torture you like he did some. As long as you followed the rules.
“Fine.”
“Is it okay that I came out here tonight? Would you rather me stay holed up in my room? Alone?”
“No,” he answers, walking to the garbage can to dispose of the trash. He heads towards the sink, washing his spoon quickly before leaving you to go back into the living room. Leaving you with more questions than answers.
“No, as in it’s okay that I came out?”
“Were you supposed to stay in your bedroom and starve?” Well that was a simple question to answer. But it was your first night here, and you didn’t know what boundaries he had that you shouldn’t cross. “I don’t expect us to be best friends. But we live together. You’re the woman that takes care of my daughter, and I’m the man.”
Saying it in such simple terms made this arrangement sound strange. You didn’t want to be an au pair, and didn’t see yourself living with a man and his daughter. His baby daughter, who couldn’t even crawl. Currently you think about this weird living situation, and how lines could easily become blurred here.
“What are my duties?”
“You’ve already told me that you have daddy issues, and now you’re asking me what your duties are? Please. I’m going to bed. This line of question is — it’s not good for me. Goodnight, Dolly. Stay up as long as you like, but in the morning I’ll be gone. Tomorrow will be all your responsibility. I’ve added a monitor to your room. If it’s before five, I can tend to her.”
He walks off leaving you with even more questions. Why did he suddenly have that outburst? What had made him seem so sensitive? And you didn’t have daddy issues. You were just fine without your father. You didn��t seek the approval of a man, or needed one to keep you in line. Sure you might watch Lloyd with Lyla and wish that Roman had even an ounce of care that Lloyd had shown in the first few hours that you met him.
Lyla is lucky to have a man that stepped up to be her father. He didn’t have to. From what you understand he didn’t even know of her existence, but it didn’t matter. She was his priority.
Exhaling deeply, you turn off all the lights, and walk to your bedroom. You’d promised Chase you would call once you were settled in bed. You’d leave the awkward talk with Lloyd for tomorrow, or whenever he decided to show up. Giving a look towards his door instead of Lyla’s telling yourself you would crack him. It was one day, and things wouldn’t always be this awkward.
Sitting on your overly plush bed, you call up Chase, and he answers on the first ring, “FaceTime me. I want to see you.”
Flipping it over to a video call, you see his handsome face, and smile like a schoolgirl. “Nice room. Have you figured out how I’m going to be able to sneak in there?”
“Chase!”
“Oh, come on. It will be fun. I’ve never fucked an au pair before,” you roll your eyes. Letting the camera drift a bit before pulling apart your pajama top. Giving him a quick flash of your chest. “Oh, princess, I like that. Is that why you called me? We’ve never had phone sex before.”
”Being around a baby and a man child today made me miss you,” you give him a little pout. The performance that he loved so much, and you just enjoyed to see him get feral. “All I could think about was falling asleep because you wore me out.”
”I could fucking wear you out.”
“Oh, yeah? What would you do to me?”
“I know how you like an audience. Maybe not actually seeing you, but you love when people can hear you. You think daddy Lloyd would have a problem hearing you whisper my name?” Daddy Lloyd? Now why did that give you a bit of a pause. A rumble in your belly that you hadn’t expected. Ignoring a few of Chase’s words as your mind ponders, going in so many different directions of why those words strung together made you…feel.
“He’d hear you gasping for breath as I stab into that sweet little cunt. Or maybe he’d walk in to see you riding me. Why don’t you remind me how you ride me,” you hum at him, and he pans the camera down to his lap, and he’s gripping the base of his cock so tightly. Beads of precum gather at the tip. Normally he’d have his cock already covered in a condom. But seeing him in all his glory is doing something to you.
“Grab a pillow, and pretend it’s me. I’ll stroke my cock to whatever pace you set.”
Lloyd flops to the other side. Grabbing his pillow he covers his head thinking about anything besides what he is hearing. He shouldn’t have added the camera to your room. But to be fair the cameras were in every fucking room in the apartment. How was he going to protect you and his daughter if he didn’t know what was going on?
Maybe the ones in the bathroom were too much, but they weren’t pointing at the toilet. My god, he wanted to look. Wanted to turn the volume down. Wanted to get that stupid verb out of his mind. But the verb wouldn’t stop talking. It isn’t even fair that you are whispering. It is normal for people to masturbate. You’d just sound better without his pathetic attempts at phone sex.
“Ugh,” Lloyd growls. He could exit out of the app if he wanted to, but he didn’t. Is it because he didn’t want to? Is it because he liked the sound of your sweet noises? Or is it because it had been too long since he had felt something besides his hand? He isn’t sure. The only thing he was truly positive about was you were killing him.
All fucking day. Acting all innocent and oblivious. He’d been away from women for too long, and you were…you knew what you were doing. Your cute little domestic moments with his daughter. You made him army ration mac and cheese that were at least edible. You helped him. You didn’t even ask, you just sat down and helped him. And you were sweet with his baby.
His emotions are conflicting with his need to…
He had to stop this utter nonsense. He isn’t a rational man, but he did what he had to do with the cameras. And now it’s backfiring on him because you can’t fucking whisper a moan. Why did your heavy breathing sound so sexy?
Why did he want to look? Were you topless? One peek wouldn’t hurt. But it would be crossing a line. How would he feel if someone was doing this with his daughter? He wouldn’t like it. You were Roman’s daughter. Even though he didn’t tell him you had the prettiest…
Nope. He is spiraling down into a sinful rabbit hole. His cock is too hard and angry and it is killing him to not look. He even fears grabbing his phone to turn down the volume will make him want to watch you. See you do whatever the fuck you are doing. Judging by the sounds and whatever The Verb was saying, you are grinding on a fucking pillow.
One look won’t hurt.
Nope, he can’t do this. He throws the blanket off him. Sitting up in the bed, he rests his elbows on his knees. Head in his hands as he tries to make his cock calm down. He was lonely. But it feels even wrong to fuck his fist because your voice is what got him hard.
This arrangement was needed, but this is difficult. Feeling a bit impossibly hard right now. Everything was hard. Including his fucking cock. It was quaking with the need to be dealt with.
Shaking his head, he stands up. His cock pressing uncomfortably against his boxers. A walk through the apartment is much needed. Get away from the noise. Maybe eat another somewhat edible peasant mac and cheese.
This was a bad idea. He sees the soft glow underneath your bedroom door, and has a deep desire to sling it open and get on to you for being…
No. He can’t do that. You’re not ‘breaking’ any of his rules. You’re just mutually masturbating with your boyfriend, and you’re taking too long. Not that he would make sure to fuck you quickly. He just doesn’t want someone else taking their time with you.
What the fuck is he even talking about? He can’t fuck you. You were Lyla’s. He just paid you. He could pay you in other ways.
No!
You fucking asked him what your duties were. He’d love for your duties to be getting to your knees and letting him see how pretty your mouth looked with his cock in it. His tip nudging the back of your throat while tears fill your eyes, and your lungs cry for air.
What the actual fuck? Why was he like this? Why was this a struggle? And why is he going the opposite way of the kitchen? Landing directly in front of your door? Listening to your sounds live. Panting. Whimpering. Not saying The Verb’s name. He’d have you screaming his name. He would have you begging for him to let you come. Have you edged all day because you wanted to tease him with silly little questions about your duties.
He’d have tears falling down your cheeks as he smirks down at you. Letting you know what a pathetic and needy little slut you were. Fuck you so hard your eyes are rolling into the back of your head, and you’re completely dumb. So dumb that you’re just spouting out random words until he’s left his seed inside your belly.
Walking to your bathroom to get a washcloth to clean you up before leaving you blissed out. Making you so needy that you beg for his attention. Start being a good girl so you get more time with is cock in — inside of you. Ready to crawl on your knees after Lyla was put to sleep, and telling him you’re his little sex doll. And he would make so much use of your body and holes. Fucking you every night. Special time just for you. Just so he can feel your tight…tight…tight walls milk him dry.
”Lloyd?” Your voice pants on the other side of the room. “Lloyd is that you?” Getting closer to the door. He tucks his cock back in his boxers. Not even realizing he had been rubbing one out to your sounds. Wiping his hands on the silk of his underwear when you sling the door open.
How did you become prettier? A sheen of sweat around your hairline, and yep…you’d been grinding on a fucking pillow. Your bed is a crumbled up mess and a pillow is right in the middle of the bed. “Is everything okay? Sorry, I was…I was telling Chase goodnight.”
The Verb. You had shorts on earlier. Now it’s this t-shirt that was barely covering your legs. Were you naked? Did you show him your pussy? Your chest continues to heave, and he hates The Verb. He despises him. He’s got to go. You can’t spend time with Lyla and him if The Verb was in the picture. “Lloyd, are you okay?”
“I’m hungry.”
”I’m confused,” what was his reason for being at your door, telling you that he was hungry.
”I like ramen. The gross kind. The kind that…”
”Like top ramen?” You ask him confused. Mouth still slightly open as you try to catch your breath and his eyebrow quirks up. Did you know he was listening to you and stroking himself?
“Yes. You made me your cheap noodles, would you like me to make you some of my cheap noodles?”
“It’s after midnight.”
“Fine, I’ll eat the noodles by myself,” spinning on his heels, he walks away from you into the kitchen. It isn’t long until he hears the soft pads of your feet following him. “I told you it was okay.”
“You — did you…I was almost asleep.”
“Yes, yes. I understand. You were almost asleep as you were telling your…boyfriend goodnight. That’s exactly what almost asleep sounds like,” that list bit of his sentence sounds a bit implying. Did he know?
“Did you hear our conversation?” Was it even a conversation? He couldn’t remember. He just heard you telling him you were going to come. Not The Verb, but Lloyd. You are a tease. He didn’t mean to get off on your voice. “How long were you out here?”
“Grab me a pot?” Oh you were obedient, bending over to get a pot, and standing up quickly. Not quick enough. No panties. He pretends to see nothing. You can sleep with no panties. That’s a good habit to get into because he can just slide into your bed, and start fucking you. When you get there of course. Consent is key. And he feels like a bastard for what he did tonight. But that movement you just did was on your own.
“Sorry.”
“For what?” He asks with a devilish grin.
“Nothing,” it wasn’t just nothing. But he wasn’t going to make you feel guilty for the need to show him your cunt still glistening. He’d have your legs drenched. “Do you do anything special with your ramen? Or do you make it as is?”
“There’s some eggs and spring onions in the fridge. Does that answer your question?” He nods his head towards the fridge, trying to figure out what else he could make you do to get a little peek. He’d play oblivious. Let you decide what you are comfortable with. “Mind getting me some bowls from the top shelf?”
Standing on your tippy toes you dance around a moment. The bottom of your ass cheeks make a little appearance, and he steps behind you to reach the bowls himself. Taking too long to cage your body with your own. And when you gasp, pressing your ass into his crotch he bounces back immediately. Dropping the bowls into the floor and they shatter into thousands of pieces.
“Shit,” Lloyd whispers under his breath. And without asking, places his hands on your sides to lift you up onto the counter. “Stay there while I clean this up. I don’t need you stepping on glass.”
He doesn’t notice the odd glances that you give him as he picks up the larger pieces and starts sweeping up the rest. “My mom always uses wet a paper towel to get the tiny pieces up.”
“That’s smart,” he follows your instructions. And stands up straight. You have already gotten more comfortable, and your legs are not so tightly pressed together. He has to bite his tongue in order to not look. But as high up as that shirt is sitting on your thighs, he knows. And you are aware that he knows.
“Not that Lyla can even crawl right now, but the idea of there being these tiny pieces of glass for you to step on when holding her,” his words stop, and he stands in front of you. How did you not realize he was shirtless? Why is his chest so close to your face as he reaches above your head for more bowls? Why does he smell like a wet dream? Push the thoughts away.
“I don’t want you hurting yourself and dropping her in an accident.”
“I won’t drop her.”
“Knock on the cabinets immediately! That is bad luck,” you do as he says, not pegging him as a superstitious man at all. “I had some chance to think about it. I think on Sundays you should have the day off completely unless I’m out of town. Saturdays, is it fair to ask for you to work half a day? Just until around noon?”
“I think that’s fair.”
“And maybe we should not talk about The Verb?”
“The Verb?” What was he even talking about? You notice his eyes flick momentarily to your lap, and you realize how comfortable you had gotten on this counter. Your legs are too far apart. He had to have seen something. Was he disappointed? You didn’t want to disappoint him. You had just started to get to know him. You wanted to prove to him and yourself that you could care for a baby.
“That Chase boy.”
“My boyfriend?” You giggle. Why did he have such an issue with Chase?
“Why is he even your boyfriend?”
“He’s better than a dildo. I mean,” you feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, and have to look at the floor. Missing how big Lloyd’s smile spreads across his smug face. Or the way he is stalking towards you like he’s ready to pounce on his prey. “We’ve been together for awhile, but it’s not that serious.”
“Sweetheart, don’t settle for better than a dildo,” he stands right in front of you. Both hands on your knees as he goes to push your legs apart. Inserting himself in between your thighs. The weird feeling in your tummy returns, and you hate having no panties on as slick floods to your core. Throat dry as his finger touches your chin and lifts your face up to look at him. “And when I’m speaking to you, I expect you to look me in the eyes, do you understand?”
You nod your head slowly, but he clicks his tongue, “And I expect you to verbally answer in my home. Little head gestures are easily misinterpreted, okay?”
“Okay,” he raises an eyebrow, wanting you to finish your sentence, but words are impossible, and your brain is mush. Everything is delayed as you feel the heat between you and Lloyd, “I understand.”
“If you need something better than a dildo and more than The Verb just use your words,” what the fuck does that even mean? He steps away from you much quicker than he inserted himself. The air in the room is heavy and stifling, and you wonder if you even knew how to breathe without reminding yourself to inhale and exhale.
“Do you like creamy ramen or brothy?” This bastard is really changing the subject. You can’t even think with the two heartbeats you feel. One inside your chest, while the other is between your thighs and throbbing. Why is your heart beating so fast? Why is your body betraying you?
“I don’t think I’ve had creamy.”
“You want to get me the heavy whipping cream?” He gives you a cheeky smile when you jump off the counter and head towards the fridge.
“Why are you asking me to do all these things?”
“Because you listen so well,” you pause before reaching for the heavy whipping cream, and turn to look at him.
“What is this?” He’s playing a sick game. He had to be. He saw this ‘vulnerable little girl’ that he had to save. You didn’t need saving, you were fine all on your own.
“You’re very well behaved. Your mother did a good job. Until just now you didn’t even question it. Just did as I asked,” what is he getting at? He is talking in riddles, or backwards, or you are just reading too much into whatever this exchange is. Keeping your mouth closed for the rest of the evening.
Keeping your eyes off him as you squirm around uncomfortably in your seat. Is this uncomfortable because of him? Or are you weirded out because you are feeling things because of him. If you look up, you’d see him smiling as he watches the weird inner turmoil going on in your head.
Finishing before you, he stands up to put his bowl in the dishwasher. Walking past you towards his bedroom, he stops. “And Dolly?”
“Yes?” You ask, turning around in your chair.
“When you leave your room make sure you have on panties,” oh. My. God. He knew. He saw. He didn’t say anything until now. “Because next time I won’t force myself to stop my need to lean you over the counter and spank your ass.”
“Okay,” you didn’t know how to respond to that, and you couldn’t believe how your body was internalizing his words. Heat. Fire. Desire. Embarrassment. Lust. How you have immediate visions of Lloyd doing just that, and spreading your cheeks to see if he made you wet. He did. Uncomfortably so.
“Good girl, I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” he needs a cold shower. He needs away from you because his cock has been at full mast since you questioned why he was asking you to gather things for him. You could try to deny it, but he turned you on as much as you turned him on.
And yet here is your employer, and you are just the sweet au pair with daddy issues. No matter what you say. And he supposes he’s the sick bastard that didn’t mind teasing you. Giving you something to think about. Options? Something for the spank bank? He hopes you go to bed wet and frustrated. Wake up to needing to fuck your own fingers as you think about the close proximity he had to you.
He hopes that you are dripping with need for his cock, and his care and protection. And he hopes that a cold shower is enough to get visions of you yipping with every smack to your ass. That you would be the perfect and obedient girl for him. Woman. Girl sounded gross in this context. Thank you, Roman for making sure your daughter had daddy issues. But fuck him for not loving his daughter the way you deserved.
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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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Taglist:
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venusstorm · 2 years
Text
Chained
You’re chained and defenseless against Lloyd Hansen. He thought about killing you…but you’re just too pretty to let go of.
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dark!Lloyd Hansen x Fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+, dark, dub/con, gunplay, knifeplay, spitkink, blood, chained/captive, degradation, pet names, daddy kink, mentions of murder
Masterlist | w/c: 1.4k |
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"She's still not speaking, sir."
Lloyd curses loudly, the sound of objects being thrown against the wall and shattering to the ground erupting around the eerily silent house.
He grabs the man by his collar, a grimace on his face as he presses his gun to his temple. "I told you. Any. Means. Necessary."
"But Suzanne—"
"Does it look like I give a fuck about what Suzanne says? You know what? Don't even answer that."
"No sir, but—"
The sound of gunshots sends you ducking against the metal bed frame that Lloyds men attached you to hours before. Your limbs were chained to the metal, the links so tight that you could feel your skin rubbing off with every pull.
"I told you not to answer."
You hear his heavy boots marching up the steps with pure animosity, his grunts of frustration matching the thunder of his stride as he grows closer.
You shiver with anticipation. Lloyd was known for his cruelty and you were certain he wouldn't spare you from his wrath.
The door swings open and a deafening silence fills the room as Lloyd stalks toward you. He eyes your figure, a small smirk gracing his lips from the sight of your exposed skin.
His men stripped you down until you were only in your underwear, stashing your weapons and leaving you cold and defenseless. You could still feel their wet mouths grazing your ear as they locked the chains in place, daring you to escape as they laughed at your pathetic position underneath them.
"Make it easy for me, sunshine. Tell me where six is headed and you can take your pretty ass home."
You scoff, turning away in refusal.
"Hard way it is," Lloyd grumbles.
He pulls a knife tucked into the front of his belt, crouching down to your level as he hovers it near your neck. The blade is sharp, and he doesn't hesitate to lick the pointed metal, saliva coating the side as he pokes your flesh.
You growl, thrashing against the chains in a poor attempt to strike his face with your foot. But he caught the movement, his arm wrapping around your leg and pulling it upwards until you're wincing with pain.
Lloyd grows near your face, observing the tears fighting to erupt from your ducts.
The chains clash together as you fight to get away from him, but he only laughs, his teeth shining bright as he allows the knife to graze your skin. A trail of blood seeps from the wound and drips down to your collarbone.
"You can cry, sweetheart. It's okay," he pouts.
Your eyes gleam with anger. "Fuck you."
"Yea? I can fuck you right here in these chains, angel." His tone is cold, gaze wandering to your barely-covered pussy.
"Touch me again, and I swear I'll—"
He rolls his eyes. "You'll what? Kill me? I don't think you're in a position to make threats like that, sweetheart.”
“Although, I can put you in a position you might like…"
His lips part as he presses his mouth against your neck. You could feel his hot tongue gliding over your skin, licking away the sweat and blood dripping from your body.
You grimace, flailing your arms as he gets rougher, bruises forming onto your neck as he trails down to your collarbones.
"Be a good girl for me, okay?"
You turn away, choosing silence over submitting to the man before you. He wants you desperate, pleading to be let free, but you refuse to give him the pleasure of seeing you weak.
Lloyd reaches for his gun in a flash, the cool metal head digging into your temple before you could even blink.
"Okay?" He repeats, voice loud with agitation as he slides the gun to the hollow of your cheek.
He trails it down your chest, his fingers pulling down the straps of your bra. Your eyes bore into his, the coolness of the gun making your nipples grow involuntarily hard.
He chuckles, moving the gun down to your stomach as you attempt to resist. Your wrists were bleeding, the chains wearing them thin.
"Stop fighting," he mumbles.
He gropes your tits, his fingers trailing around the sensitive nubs before forcibly yanking them. And he doesn't miss how your thighs smash together from the action, the wet spot on your panties growing larger the longer he touches your body.
"Such a pretty cunt." He points the gun at your clit, moving it softly around your clothed folds.
"Go to hell," you groan.
Lloyd can only smile as he pulls your panties to the side, your wetness on full display as he allows the gun to enter your hole.
You could feel your slick sticking to your thighs, arousal seeping through and wetting the metal.
No matter how many unpleasant thoughts ransacked your mind to make it stop, you still found yourself fighting back a whimper of desperation.
You plant your hands onto the floor as he thrusts into you, twisting and turning the weapon until you're pleading for him to stop.
He sneers. "Such a fucking slut. You like this don't you?"
You whimper out a small "no," your hands searching for something to hold onto as his pace quickens.
"Maybe you wanted this," he whispers. "Got yourself caught and locked up just to be chained and fucked. Want my cock to fill your pretty holes? Is that what you need, sweetheart?"
You can see his erection fighting for release as he hovers over you. Your eyes begin to roll back as he uses his free hand to rub your clit.
"Killed four people with this shit today...and look at you. Riding it all innocently, mouth open and pleading for more."
He smashes his lips against yours, his mouth wrapping around your tongue before spitting inside of it. "God you're a fucking whore," he scoffs.
You cry out his name, your legs wrapping around him instinctively to gain balance. Forgetting the chains wrapped around your wrists, you move your arms, screaming as your skin erupts in flames.
"Can't let you out, sweetheart. And if you try to escape I'll shoot this bullet right in your fucking cunt," he mutters.
"I'll make you ride it until you're screaming and crying out my name and when those pretty eyes start rolling back and those lips part, begging me to let you cum, I'll pull the trigger.”
A loud moan erupts from your throat as you feel yourself near. You hear the sound of the safety being switched off before he thrusts the gun to your hilt.
"That's it, sunshine. Let go for daddy."
You scream as you convulse around the metal, your hole clenching and preventing it from slipping out of you. Lloyd groans as he watches your face contort, the urge to cum in his pants strong as you thrash around before finally stilling.
He pulls the gun from you slowly, a satisfied look on his face as he inspects the weapon. Your juices soaked the head and steadily he held the gun to your lips.
"Clean it for me, angel."
You shake your head in refusal but Lloyd just drags you closer. The chains grind against your bone, the wound becoming deeper as he pulls you against him. His touch is deceivingly gentle, his hand rubbing your backside as his nose dances over your lips softly.
He tilts his head, eyes dark and glazed as he probes your lips with the weapon. “M’not gonna ask twice.”  
You're shaking as you stick your tongue out. He thrusts the head into your mouth, forcing you to lick every inch of the surface as you fought back gags. Your tears fall freely now, dropping onto the metal and washing away between your lips.
"Now was that so hard, sunshine?"
The door slams open and a crowd of men come filing in. For a moment you think they're your saviors but their attire makes you realize they're anything but.
"He's here!" One of them shouts.
The lights flicker, and suddenly you're coated in darkness, the only light coming from a singular window in the corner of the room.
Lloyd growls, yanking his gun from your lips and shouting at the men to go find six. As they all race out he turns to you, gripping your chin roughly as he presses one last messy kiss to your lips.
"Might just have to keep you for myself, angel," he murmurs.
"Cause after tonight? Six is dead and there’s nobody left to save you."
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navybrat817 · 6 months
Text
October Reading List
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Hey, lovelies! Here are the fics I've had the pleasure of reading and reblogging throughout the month of October. Please show these writers some love and heed the warnings for each fic. Remember, you are responsible for your own media consumption. Banner by yours truly and divider by the talented @saradika .
Love, thanks, and happy reading!
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Marvel Characters
Bucky Barnes
Feelin' Gourd by @jobean12-blog
Never Saw You Comin' by @nickfowlerrr
Healing Hands by @rookthorne
Mile High Club by @writing-for-marvel
Off Day by @theeleggymeggy
Hold Me Down by @flordeamatista
Blood Sweat and Tears by @treatbuckywkisses
Protective Biker!Bucky by @pellucid-constellations
Insomnia by @intrepidacious
Chain Around My Neck by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky
Storm by @bucky-barnes-diaries
Biker!Bucky Headcanon by @sinner-as-saint
Smitten by @buckylattes
Give Up Part 1 and Part 2 by @fineanddandy
New Perspective by @honeybloomss
Behave by @becca-e-barnes
Steve Rogers
Haunted by @targaryenvampireslayer
Let's Get Physical by @mrsmischief209
Darkness Between the Stars by @biteofcherry
You Are in Love by @scrumptious-delusion
Baby Girl by @wint3r-h3art
Drain You by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor
Morning Light by @drabblewithfrannybarnes
Interrupted by @ciarawritesmarvel
Steve Rogers as a Husband @neonovember
What You Can Do For Your Country by @krirebr
I Made Your Favorite by @heli0s-writes
The Cinema Experience by @myfictionaldreams
Learn My Lesson by @cockslutpadalecki
Breathe Me by @fushic0re
An Olive Branch by @real-jane
Stucky
Letters to the Moon by @violentdelightsandviolentends
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Chris Evans Characters
Andy Barber
Your Age is Showing by @worksby-d
Rosebud by @kthynes
Second Shot by @/drabblewithfrannybarnes
Ari Levinson
Beauty Wrought of Rapture and Desire by @the-iceni-bitch
The Domestic Life @imyourbratzdoll
Of Service by @stargazingfangirl18
The New Romantics - Part 1 by @slvttyfied
Curtis Everett
Lots of Candles by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork
Can I Try Something? by @luxeavenger
Lloyd Hansen
Trucker!Lloyd by @oh-my-damn
Alpha by @boxofbonesfic
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Sebastian Stan Characters
Lee Bodecker
It Will Come Back by @slyyywriting
Lights Out by @vellicore
No Way Out by @shadeysprings
Captivity by @wheezy-stucky
Devil Devil by @sgt-seabass
Snuggle Time by @holylulusworld
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biteofcherry · 2 years
Note
I love the thought of Lloyd kidnapping his wife and training her to be the perfect little housewife and then once she’s good and learns he’s so soft with her and a loving hubby but turns immediately as soon as she steps one foot outta line 😳
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Paradise island
Lloyd Hansen x female reader
warnings: housewife kink; kidnapping; forced relationship; dub-con; discipline; smut;
~ * ~ 
“Look at you, sunshine” Lloyd murmured, his gaze appreciative as it slid over your body.
“Ain’t you perfect,” he hummed, pressing his thumb against your lips and smudging your red lipstick - a stroke of ruby red against your cheek. 
He slipped that thumb into your mouth, grinning triumphantly when you hollowed your cheeks and sucked without prompting.
You were quickly learning to attend to his whims, predict them too. A self preservation instinct to avoid a repeat of the pain he bestowed upon you when you fought back. The fire in you seemed to turn Lloyd on, but not as much as he enjoyed putting it down by making you yield.
The welts on your ass and tights were still raised after Lloyd used a rattan cane on you. 
It was thin and flexible, and hurt like motherfucker.
Hurt more than his bare hand he used on you at first. Perhaps also because when Lloyd spanked you, he fingered you too, made you cum and made you love the ache of it. 
The cane brought no instant pleasure, only tears and burning that lasted long.  
Afterwards, Lloyd made you clean the house in nothing but an apron, so he could watch:
“My disobedient wife carrying marks of my discipline as she learns her place.”
Your place was supposed to be as his sweet housewife; a twisted version of it he started fantasizing about after watching you interact with your actual husband. Whom Lloyd killed. 
The contract for your husband’s head came first and it was as Lloyd carried it out that he got a chance to see you. You knew by now that your husband would be dead anyway, but it didn’t fully erase your guilt. There was still that voice in the back of your head wondering if he could survive if Lloyd didn’t develop a sick obsession with you.
You don’t know if it was the apple pie that you baked that day, or the happy smile on your face as you walked barefoot into the backyard to hang out freshly washed sheets, or maybe he saw you hike up your skirt and ride your husband on a chair by the kitchen table.
Whatever instigated Lloyd’s fantasies, he was adamant on making them come true for him immediately.
He took you from your home, after disposing of your husband. His laugh sinister and his promises lewd as he injected you with something. 
You woke hours later in a house on a private island, no other people to help you out, no boat to take you away across the endless ocean. 
Weeks of rebelling, crying, trying to fight Lloyd physically. Weeks of manipulation, sweet and condescending words, discipline that twisted your mind with how it combined pain and pleasure. You finally started giving in, started accepting there’s no other way to live your life out now than to play into Lloyd’s housewife kink and spare yourself more suffering.
What’s worse, you began settling in. Focusing on simple, daily chores relaxed you. Frantic thoughts about lost life had no chance to bloom when you had your hands busy and your mind set on thinking of how to please your husband each day. 
You went on long walks; sometimes alone, sometimes hand in hand with Lloyd. The island was like a little paradise. The sand was nearly white, so soft beneath your feet. Green tones of trees and bushes were more lush, and the flowers bloomed in splashes of brilliant colors.
The water was so clear you could see and chase little, colorful fish. Cool on your sun-heated skin as you traded through it, or swam. In scandalous bikinis or naked, so Lloyd could enjoy the view as he watched from a lounging chair, sipping on a drink.
When you gave in, Lloyd gave back in return. 
With expensive gifts, as well the more meaningful ones that made your head spin in confusion (like a swing he had delivered and built for you in a shaded nook in the garden). He often lavished you with his attention and time, when he wasn't away on a mission. Weirdly, he gave you more attention than your late husband had.
His dick was more than your late husband's, too.
Lloyd loved to fuck you. A lot. It was never love making, even if he took you slow and gentle it had a raw edge to it that couldn't be described as anything other than fucking.
He fucked you so good you forgot your own name. Turned you into a mess, only able to mewl and cry.
There wasn't a space or an occasion Lloyd wouldn't use for sexual adventures. And he made them unforgettably creative.
So you wore the dresses he bought you. Cooked meals and baked pies. You cleaned the house, tended the garden, went on walks along the beach. 
And you stood perfectly still when Lloyd came back home after a business trip and ran a thorough inspection.
Not much a house inspection, more a wife inspection.
His piercing blue eyes bore into yours, checking if the rebellious fire was dimmed. His words sweet, but provoking, testing your submission. His touch made sure your body still responded as eagerly as he trained you to.
As he’s done now.
Lloyd pressed your tongue down with his thumb, until more saliva pooled in and you gurgled. He withdrew his digit after a moment, delicately took your fingers into his hand and twirled you around three times. 
The skirt of your dress flared, your bare feet sliding on the polished hardwood floors. 
He pulled you to him, his hand firm against your back as he kept you in place while he slid his other hand beneath your dress. His pleasant hum at finding you bare made you drop your shoulders in relief; he was happy with you. 
“Now tell me, Sunshine, what are we making for dinner?” He kissed you, almost softly, just a hint of his usual roughness. His mustache tickled your upper lip, as his fingers brushed over your folds. 
“We?” You blinked, surprised. “You- you’re going to help?” 
Lloyd often watched you cook, if he was in the house at the time. Occasionally he handed you ingredients, but he never attempted to actually cook. No, that was a wife’s duty. 
“Of course,” he flashed you a grin that instantly had your heart jumping, “I’ll help you work on your focus.”
He turned you around, leading you to the kitchen counter. You braced your hands against it as Lloyd pulled your dress up over your ass. 
“You’ll do your best preparing dinner and I’ll introduce you to our new project.”
You didn't have the courage to ask about the project. Knowing Lloyd it will be something that leaves you torn and gasping, giving in anyway, even if your mind screams No.
Lloyd dropped to his knees behind you. His lips trailed along one of the welts on your ass, treating your bruised skin with tenderness. You knew better than to assume it's guilt or care, more likely reverent appreciation of his own handwork.
"You look so beautiful with my marks," Lloyd licked one of the welts, from one edge to the other.
"Go on," he ushered you, noticing you weren't working on dinner. "I don't want us to stay hungry for long after I'm done with you."
With shaky hands you reached for the tomatoe. You had to still your breath as your fingers wrapped around the knife's handle.
It turned ragged quickly, anyway, as Lloyd spread your asscheeks and bit into your pussy. First expert licks between your folds were merely a prep before the assault. Lloyd's tongue drew zigzags across your cunt, dipping into your entrance then withdrawing to lash your clit with rapid licks.
A jolt of pleasure, when he sucked you to the brink of ecstasy, made you lose control of your limbs - your fingers squeezing half of a cut tomato, the juices squirting all over the counter.
You fell forward, trying to grasp at a fresh one, but you could only claw at the cool surface of the kitchen counter as Lloyd's mouth moved to your other hole.
He pushed his tongue into your rim at the same time thrusting two of his fingers into your fluttering channel.
A firm slap on your tender ass caused you to cry out, your legs kicking out in futile attempt to save you from the onslaught.
And yet your cunt tightened around Lloyd's fingers.
"Sunshine-" he sang the word playfully as he stood up and pressed himself against you.
His mustache tickled your ear when he pressed his lips to it, his tongue licking lewdly over the shell.
The sound of a zipper lowering had you tense up in anticipation of that insanely good stretch. No matter how many times Lloyd took you, it seemed his cock was always too big for your pussy to get used to.
"We have to work on your multitasking skills." Lloyd chuckled, kicking your legs wider apart.
"You will need it when our little rascals start running around."
Your didn't fully register his words, the slam of his cock making your brain sizzle with s different shock. You shattered in a sudden climax, your body involuntarily opening up to Lloyd's project.
"Fuck yeah!" He moaned, pushing your head down on the counter, your cheek pressed into tomato pulp, as he pounded into you.
3K notes · View notes
holylulusworld · 19 days
Text
Competition 2.0
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Summary: You and Lloyd are in a competition for life.
Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x fem!Reader; God, the bounty hunter x fem!Reader (not really)
Warnings: concurrence, mentions of erectile dysfunction, language, Lloyd being Lloyd, implied subish Lloyd, implied bi-sexual Lloyd, kinda knifeplay (not really)
Catch up here: Competition
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“Aw, sugar cake,“ Lloyd grins as you try to ignore you agreed to join forces against the new player calling himself God, the bounty hunter. “How about we start the party now and work harder later.”
You roll your eyes. “I agreed to sit in the same car with you. If you keep on pushing boundaries, it’s totally justified if I stab your face.” You smile darkly at Lloyd. “What will it be, sugar cake.”
“You’re a red-blooded woman,” he hums and unashamedly runs his hand over his crotch. Lloyd is not subtle. Not at all. “I like me a feisty pussy to pound.”
“I hope that motherfucker is worth spending time with you. If not, I’ll kill you for wasting my time and for being annoying.”
“I killed people for less,” Lloyd grins. He scoots a little closer to brush his hand over your knee. “I got you a limousine, sunshine. If the gesture doesn’t scream—” He grunts the second you grab his hand and twist it.
“If,” you bend his thumb, making him wince, “you ever touch me without my allowance again, I’ll castrate you.”
“But you want me to touch you,” he nods to himself. “I only need to wait for you to whimper my name. I know you are addicted to Lloyd Hansen.”
“You mean disgusted by you,” you push his hand away. “I don’t do limp dicks.” You huff. “Now focus on the mission. I want my witness back, and you want to settle things with that guy calling himself God.”
“God the bounty hunter,” Lloyd corrects. “I will carve his heart out for fucking my mission over. That sexy thief will feel the wrath of Lloyd Hansen. No one steals my kill and gets away with it.”
“Sexy?” You cock your head. “Ah, I see.” Nodding knowingly, you smirk. “The girl didn’t get you hard because you prefer them more…masculine.”
“If so?” He cocks his head and mirrors your smirk. “A nice body is a nice body.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Even though, I prefer your body today.”
“Hmm…” you eye Lloyd warily. “If you are a good boy, I’ll let you shoot him first.” Your eyes round watching Lloyd shift in his seat. He swallows thickly and rubs his hand over his crotch. “Do you like being a good boy?”
“What?” He hiccups. “No! I’m in control. Always! No one calls me their good boy.”
“No one ever did,” you scoot closer to run your fingertips over his thigh. He shudders and purrs your name. “Say, Lloyd. Do you want to be my good boy?”
His eyes are half-lidded, and his mouth falls open. He struggles to answer, too lost in the feeling of your featherlight touch. “I…I…”
“If you want to be my good boy, you’ll leave God and the witness to me. Just provide backup and look pretty.”
“You think I look pretty?” He murmurs, close to creaming his pants. “I knew it…”
You snort and move away. “Christ, Hansen. You are so easy to manipulate. One pretty face, the right words and you forget about the mission. No wonder that new player snatched my witness out of your hands.”
“He didn’t!” Lloyd grunts. He crosses his arms over his chest and pouts. “I wasn’t distracted at all. I played along to steal your knife.”
Lloyd proudly twirls your favorite knife between his fingers. “You fucker! Give it back!”
“You didn’t think it’s so easy to manipulate Lloyd Hansen, didn’t you?” He laughs now. “Aw, baby cakes. You’ll have to do a lot more to distract me. If you sit in my lap and ride the life out of me, maybe then I’d be distracted.”
“Just tell this to yourself.”
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Lloyd had to take the lead. He stormed into the building before you got the chance to analyze the situation. He kicked the door open and yelled orders at his men while aimlessly shooting anyone crossing his path.
“Hello sunshine,” he snickers and stalks toward the new player. “Did you think I’d forget about you?”
“What do you want?” The man replies. Unimpressed by Lloyd, his men, and their guns aimed at him, he sips his coffee and furrows his brows. “The man is gone.”
“Where is my witness?” You shove Lloyd out of your way. “Whatever you have to settle with that idiot,” you jerk your head toward Lloyd, “has nothing to do with my witness. Where is he?”
“Gone,” God’s eyes flit toward you. He looks you up and down and takes another sip of his coffee. “He won’t come back. This was my mission.”
“No it was mine,” Lloyd argues.
“It was mine,” you huff. “Can you stop the pissing contest for a moment, Hansen?” You look at God. “Where did you bring him? I need his location right now.”
“He’s gone,” he repeats.
You sigh, deeply and exasperated. “Listen, I got that he’s gone. I just need to know, where to, and if he’s still alive. I’ll pay you for your information.”
“Cupcake, you won’t pay that fucker for the information. I’ll break his pretty face for you, and you can pay me back with something sweeter than money,” Lloyd flashes you a cocky grin.
“I told you to stop this shit,” you are just done with Lloyd’s antics. “So, what will it be, Mr. God.”
“God, the bounty hunter,” he corrects. “Not mister or God.”
“He likes his name,” your mustache-wearing nemesis snickers.
“Fine,” you secure your gun. “What will it be, God, the bounty hunter? Money, diamonds, or a bullet from Mr. Hansen’s gun?”
“Oh!” Lloyd cocks a brow. “You’ll leave the kill to me?”
“You should get a room,” God, the bounty hunter says. “I already got paid. I do not break my contracts.”
“Listen you fucker,” you get your knife out to throw it at God. He not only dodges your attack but also catches your knife. God sniffs at the knife before licking over the blade. “Fuck…” You lick your lips. That was the sexiest thing you’ve seen in a while.
Your pussy clenches around nothing when he gets up to hand you the knife over. “He’s gone, miss. There is no coming back for him.”
You take the knife, holding God’s gaze. “You killed him.”
“That was the order. My client was very strict about it. They wanted it to happen in a certain way too,” he drops his eyes to the gun in your thigh holster. “A Colt M1911A1, nice. Very reliable.”
“I like reliable,” you reply. “Nothing better than a reliable partner.”
“Are you fucking kidding me now?” Lloyd throws a tantrum. “First that bastard steals my kill and now you are flirting with him. Did you forget that he killed your witness?”
“Hey, sometimes you win,” you roam God’s body with your eyes, “sometimes you lose.” You dip your head to glance at Lloyd. “And sometimes you get the chance to turn a loss into a double win…”
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