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Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [5]
Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader
Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why.
Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!
Word Count: 3,761
A/N: i cannot wait to see what you all think of this latest development! please drop by my ask with thoughts or comments, and as always, thanks everyone for your patience! ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics
To your absolute horror, Lloyd doesn’t stop. You’re dizzy, both from the realization and the even, steady grind of his hips. It’s terribly familiar, the way he touches you—like it’s not the first time. Your stomach rolls as an anguished wail tears from your lips at the thought, because it’s the same one you’ve been shoving down, burying underneath every single other thing you can think of, because it couldn’t be true. Ransom wouldn’t do that you, he wouldn’t—
But he has.
Lloyd clucks his tongue at you, and reaches forward to cup your face. “You can scream, Princess.” He grins. “I know you can’t keep quiet anyway.” His words turn your stomach. Your arms, previously paralyzed at your sides, come up to push frantically at his face and chest as you curse.
“Get the fuck off me, Lloyd!” You scream, but he doesn’t move—doesn’t even falter as he continues to rut into your shamefully wet cunt. He doesn’t budge, like your blows don’t even hurt. It makes you even more panicked, your eyes growing wide as you sob. Frantically, you scream for your husband, your voice swallowed by the crashing surf.
“Ransom—! Ran—” Lloyd silences you with a kiss, swallowing your fear as he presses his lips to yours. Your shock allows him entry, sweeping his tongue into your mouth as you squirm beneath him. Lloyd catches your arms easily, forcing them back against the rock behind you.
“What’s the worst part, Princess?” He asks mockingly, his amused chuckle puffing against your lips. “That it’s me? Or that you liked it? That you always liked it?” You don’t want it to be true, shaking your head as you stare at him with tear-filled eyes. He nods in response, as slow and deliberate as his thrusts. Your stomach churns with the combination of this forbidden knowledge and the unwanted pleasure that creeps up your spine.
He knows your body, that much is obvious. You don’t know how you didn’t see it before, a hundred thousand puzzle pieces falling perfectly into place as your life crumbles around them. Lloyd holds you like Ransom, kisses you like Ransom—
Or does Ransom kiss you like Lloyd?
He plays your body perfectly, like you’re an instrument he’s already mastered. Even as your head swims, the thick weight of his cock drawing pleasure from you even as you fight against it. You can hear it, how wet you are, how much your traitorous body is enjoying Lloyd. It’s maddening, the way you clench and quake beneath him, struggling ineffectually against pleasure you don’t want. He transfers both your wrists to one hand, using the other to cup your chin.
“It’s really not as bad as you think,” he coos, dragging his thumb through your tears. He kisses you again, painfully softly. “I know what you like.” Lloyd’s fingers taste like the sea as he draws them across your trembling lips. “I know what you hate.” He traces circles around your puffy nipples, before painting stripes of salt-water down your belly. He spreads your lips wider with two fingers and draws those same circles around your clit.
“I hate you!” You grit through clenched teeth, through your furious, shameful tears. Lloyd clucks his tongue, before leaning down to nose at the skin of your throat.
“No you don’t, Princess. You love Ransom—so you love me. We’re the same, baby-doll.” He leans up, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Don’t you get that yet?” You don’t want it to be true, it can’t be, they’re so different—but even as you think it, you know he’s not lying. You’re reeling, the stretch-burn, the raw pleasure of him inside you, the knowledge that he’s been there before—
You wail as you cum, staring unseeingly at the sky. Lloyd doesn’t even give you the courtesy of slowing down, instead fucking you steadily through it with his cock and fingers buried in your cunt. He carries you, unwilling, from one height to the next, twitching and pleading. When he finally pulls his fingers from your soaked folds, he sucks them clean.
“Love you so much, Princess,” he groans, rocking his hips steadily into yours as you mewl miserably. “I can wait for you to know you love me too.” His fingers press the skin of your hips like Ransom’s. Lloyd sucks your bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth with a growl. He holds you still while he empties into you. As he pants against your mouth, he grins.
“Feels good not to have to pretend.”
“Get off me.” You hiss at him, glaring at him with red-rimmed eyes. This time, he listens. He pulls out of you with an appreciative hum, stopping briefly to admire the slick, sticky mess he’s made. You pull your swimsuit down roughly, tugging your shirt tightly around yourself like a shield while you grab your now soaked shorts from the water, and begin to struggle into them.
“Let me—”
“Don’t fucking touch me!” You shriek, jumping further backwards into the surf. You slip on the rocks, barely remaining upright as you scramble away. “Y-you don’t touch me!” You brandish a slick rock in your hand as threateningly as you can. “I—I’m going to tell Ransom, an-and—”
The look he gives you is almost pitying. “Oh Princess. Go on and tell him.” He nods at you with a sick smile. “Tell me what he says.” Lloyd holds his hands up as you retreat, giving him as wide a berth as you an as you circle back to shore. He doesn’t follow you, watching as you stumble across the sand. You head into the trees and underbrush ringing the beach, fleeing your brother-in-law’s gaze. You know the general direction of the hotel, and you head that way, opting not to go back to the party.
The party. Your stomach turns as you think of it now, Linda’s words holding fresh meaning now. Did she know? Did Ransom? The entire idea was so ludicrous you could scarcely believe it was really happening—but it was. It had. The evidence of Lloyd’s transgression was smeared between your salt-stained thighs. You want to vomit, and so you do, leaning against a tree as you heave into the sand.
“Sweetheart?”
You look up, your eyes wild. It’s Ransom—or Lloyd. You don’t know, now, torn between wanting to rush into his arms, or turn and run. You simply stare at him distrustfully, mirroring his step forward with one back, maintaining the distance between you with careful precision.
“Baby, what’s wrong? You just wandered off, and—”
“Are you Lloyd?” You ask sharply, swallowing the desire to respond to his concern. You can’t trust your own eyes now, not anymore, and you don’t want to get close enough to verify.
Ransom stares at you confusedly.
“No? Why would you ask me that? Did something happen?” He takes another step closer, his arms outstretched placatingly. There’s true worry on his face as he takes in your wretched state, your open shirt and wet shorts, dirty feet and missing shoes. “Baby, did something happen?” He asks again, slower and more deliberate. You want to believe him, this man wearing your husband’s wedding ring, staring at you with the same eyes as the man you’d run away from.
“Tell me something about the fountain.”
“The what?”
“The fountain!” You shrill hoarsely. “The fountain, from—”
“The one in the village,” Ransom finishes. “With the messed up tiles.”
This time, you can’t stop yourself from rushing into his arms, sobbing.
“I—Lloyd, he—” The words won’t come out between your hiccoughing sobs, and you settle for burying your face in his chest as Ransom wraps his arms around you. He holds you tightly, pressing you to his body as you wail. The truth sticks in your throat like taffy as you tangle your fingers in his shirt, tears soaking into the expensive fabric.
“It’s okay, Sweetheart.” His voice is soothing. “I’m here. I got you, okay? I got you.” He doesn’t rush you, waiting until the tears slow to press a kiss into your hair. “You don’t have to talk right now. Let’s get you back to the room, okay?”
Ransom practically carries you through the underbrush, emerging near the long stairwell up from the beach. Your family—and his—are still down at the party, but you barely spare them a glance as you stagger up the sandy concrete steps. Before long, the ringing in your ears blocks out the music anyway, and all you can think about is Lloyd’s response to your threat.
Go on and tell him. Tell me what he says.
Lloyd is nowhere to be seen as you enter the villa, and you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You didn’t even realize you’d been watching for him, waiting for him to appear like he always did—but he doesn’t. You’re relieved as Ransom leads you back into the bedroom and closes the door behind you. For a moment, you’re not sure what to do with yourself, standing blankly by the door while Ransom watches you helplessly.
“Sweetheart… can you tell me?” He asks, resting his hands on your shoulders. You flinch at his touch instead of leaning into it, and pain flashes briefly across your face. Somehow, you are hesitant to name the shape of the monster that haunts you even now, like Lloyd had cursed your jaw to stick. With difficulty, your force it open.
“He—he pretended… he was you. And… we… I didn’t know, Ran, I didn’t know it wasn’t you,” you babble, tears forming in your red, glassy eyes. You’re expecting to see his face crease with disgust at the part you won’t say out loud, but it doesn’t. Ransom’s silent, his face scrunching first with disappointment and then anger. You can tell he’s looking for an outlet, and he settles on routine.
“Did you take your vitamins, Sweetheart?” He replies, a worried hand on your belly. “Does anything… hurt?” You shake your head.
“N-no.” Ransom turns to the dresser, grabbing the bottles and shaking out your pills one by one. You take them, shuffling into the suite’s bathroom. You a cup cool water from the faucet and bring it to your lips, swallowing them down with a grimace.
“Let’s get you a bath, Baby.”
You nod wordlessly.
Ransom helps you get undressed, and you watch his jaw tic at Lloyd’s drying cum on your thighs. He fills the whirlpool tub with hot water, and you shift uncomfortably from foot to foot as you watch him. When it’s full, he helps you into it before splashing into the water himself. He sits on the back side of the tub with you between his knees, reaching down to hold you as you sink into the water.
You lean back against your husband, fresh tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. I want to wake up now. There’s little you wouldn’t give to open your eyes and find yourself on the beach, this terrible nightmare broken. But when you do open your eyes, you’re still in the bathroom, your husband’s hands rubbing soothing circles into your skin as you wash away the evidence of his brother’s sin.
“Oh Sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I… I don’t know what to say.” He strokes your hair as he speaks to you softly, gently, like he’s soothing an animal. “Lloyd’s a lot of things. Impatient, being chiefest among them.” You freeze, the air seeming to flow right out of your lungs—out of the whole room. The dripping of the faucet is as loud as thunder.
“W-what?”
“I didn’t want you to find out like this, Sweetheart, believe me.” You wrench yourself away from him, water sloshing over the sides of the tub as you stare at your husband in disbelief. It feels like reality is crumbling to nothing as you watch, bleached into dust by the brightness of his sad smile. It’s all you can see.
“N-no, no no no no—” He reaches for you, and you slap his had away, tripping as you scramble out of the tub. “You knew.” You moan, bile rising in your throat as you wrap a towel around yourself. “You—you always knew.” Ransom rises from the lip of the tub and steps out onto the tile. You want to vomit, but there’s nothing left to bring up as you dry-heave into the sink.
“Sweetheart, I need you to calm down, this stress isn’t good for the baby.”
“The baby—” You let out a despairing little laugh. “How long, Ransom?” You ask him hoarsely. “How long have you been letting this happen?” Finally, your husband has the decency to look ashamed.
“Does it matter?”
“Yes!” You scream, pounding a fist against the counter. “Yes it fucking matters!”
“I think before New Years, last year.”
“A—a year?” You choke out the words as you clutch your belly with a shaking hand. The baby—you don’t even know if it’s Ransom’s. You feel dirty, despite having bathed. Deeper than your skin, like something inside is tainted, rotten. You want to crawl out of it, leave it behind like a shell. Perhaps then you might be able to draw enough air into your tight lungs to be able to do more than sputter your husband’s words back at him in abject disbelief.
You don’t want to relive the last year and a half but you can’t help it, flipping through the moments like flash cards as you try to pinpoint every transgression, every lie. For every possible memory that feels wrong, there are dozens of blank spaces, empty places where recollection should be. Your husband had poked his finger through the thin saran wrap of your memories, and you hadn’t even realized it was happening.
Ransom reaches forward to rest a hand on your back and you shove him so hard he stumbles, your eyes wild.
“Don’t touch me. You—you will never touch me again.” You hiss, the words ragged. Ransom scowls at you as you storm out of the bathroom, the towel still clutched against your heaving chest. You can barely hear anything over the sound of your own ragged breathing and the thundering of your heart. They’d been switching off for over a year, and you hadn’t even noticed. Sickness and shame twine in your gut as you snatch the clothes in the closet off their hangers, throwing them into your open suitcase without bothering to fold them.
“Sweetheart, don’t be rash. The baby—”
“Will not even know your name.” You don’t look at Ransom—you can’t. You feel like you don’t even know him, and you can’t help but wonder if you ever did. He’d known—hell, maybe he’d even participated in Lloyd’s sick games. The man you’d thought you married would never have stood for that. You grit your teeth as Ransom scoffs amusedly behind you.
“You’re just going to pack your suitcase and go, is that it?” There’s a cruel edge to his voice you don’t recognize—it makes him sound like Lloyd. “Baby I’m just trying to give you what you want.” You glare at him over your shoulder before returning to packing, refusing to even entertain the discussion. You push past him to get to the dresser, pulling out the rest of your things.
“You’re not thinking clearly, and I think if you really stopped and gave it some thought, you’d realize you’re making a mistake.”
“Oh, I’m the one making the mistake?” You can’t help but turn to spit venom over your shoulder. “You and your brother took turns on me like a fucking carnival ride, but I’m making a mistake?”
“You wanted a big family, a stable family. One nobody could touch—”
“You’re sick.” You swallow against the bitter acid in your throat. “How can you try to make this okay? I—I never want to see you again. Ever. I—I really, truly mean that.” The needle inside you continues to swing between rage and abject horror as you dress yourself, practically shoving your limbs into the most convenient pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Your head buzzes with the turmoil of it all, practically full to bursting. Your passport is still in the bedside table, and you make sure you grab it, shoving it into your pocket before throwing open the bedroom door.
It’s hard to breathe around the ache in your chest as you drag your heavy suitcase down the hallway, trying to ignore the sound of your husband behind you. You’re bordering on hysteria, frantic tears and snot running down your face as you flee your husband’s placating words. That’s probably the most maddening part of it—how he continues to parse out the words slowly, patiently, like he’s waiting for you to realize how sensible he’s being. You’re about ten seconds away from clapping your hands over your ears like a child, so you don’t have to hear him anymore
“Sweetheart, let’s talk about this.” Ransom calls after you. You stagger against the wall as your knees tremble, but you force yourself through it. Your heart is beating wildly, your palms clammy as you look back at your husband. You don’t expect to see him smiling. “You’re not being rational, baby.”
You don’t even know how to respond. The only words that seem to come to mind are insults, curses; the violent ills you’re currently wishing on your husband and his family. You can’t listen to him—it’s only going to make you more enraged. You already feel like your heart is about to beat out of your chest, as you gulp down ragged breaths, your vision swimming. You rest a hand against the kitchen island, your whole body throbbing hotly with your pulse.
“Shut the fuck up, Ransom,” you pant. “You can’t spin this.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” He ignores your acid glare, leaning forward to curl a lock of your hair around his finger. You push him away, but the movement is clumsy, your hand swinging bonelessly at the end of your arm. “You know how persuasive I can be.”
“You’re really just like him.” It slips out before you can stop it as you shake your head in astonishment.
“Oh what, you just figure that out?” Ransom’s voice is mockingly soft. “It took you long enough.”
You slap him.
The sound of it is loud and sharp, and Ransom’s head actually turns with the force of it, your husband stumbling back a few steps. It was his surprise that had allowed it—you and Ransom had never struck each other, not counting the playful smacks he delivered in the bedroom. For a moment he stays like that, frozen, before slowly turning to look at you. Your wedding ring had split his lip, and you watch as he draws his thumb across it smearing the bright line of crimson across his mouth.
“You’re starting to piss me off, Sweetheart.” His hand clamps so tightly around your wrist that it hurts, and you yelp, pushing uselessly at his chest. Ransom had never been violent with you, never even given you reason to suspect he would raise a hand to you, but as he bends you over the kitchen island, you feel fear. Your husband twists your arms behind your back, ignoring your pained whimper when he squeezes too tight.
This—this isn’t happening. It’s not. My family is here, my, my father—
You wail, the sound muffled by the marble countertop and your tears, salt and snot running onto the counter beneath your cheek.
“Just let me go, Ransom—”
“Oh Baby we are way past that.” The kiss he presses into your hair makes nausea churn in your belly, and you let out another sob. “I put a ring on that—where’s your finger, baby, let me see—ah! There it is.” Ransom holds your hand up, his fingers digging into the meat of your palm. “On that finger,” he continues, tapping the diamond with his fingernail. “Till death do us part, Sweetheart, that’s what we said. That’s what you promised me—and Lloyd.”
“You’re crazy—” The words stick in your throat as your vision tunnels. I feel sick. You do, your stomach churning as your heartbeat thunders in your ringing ears.
“Wha-you do’t me?” The words are like bubblegum in your mouth as your husband chuckles softly.
“You didn’t really think those were all vitamins, did you?” Your eyes widen with horror as you begin to struggle again, flailing your uncoordinated limbs as you try to force Ransom off of you. “Now don’t worry, it’s nothing that could hurt the baby,” he says reassuringly, as if that is your only cause for concern.��
“Noo,” you moan, wriggling feebly beneath him as you feel yourself recede further and further into your body. “Don’ wannit.”
“I know, Sweetheart. But what you want isn’t good for the family,” he says, stroking a gentle finger over the curve of your cheek. “You want to run, too run from what we’re trying to build with you. For you,” Ransom releases you as the sound of nearby voices reach your buzzing ears. “I’m not going to let that happen.”
He steps away from you as Nathalie bursts through the door, holding a champagne bottle by the neck as she dances to music blaring from her phone speakers.
“There you are, chica, we were looking—mom! Dad! She’s in here! I thought you—are you okay?” She sets the bottle down on the small table to the right of the sliding door. She rushes over to you, looping one limp arm around your shoulders as concern sets into the lines of her face. “Jesus, I—Ransom! What’s wrong with her?!”
Your husband appears in your tunnel-vision, carding a worried hand through his hair.
“Thank fucking Christ, Nathalie—I was just going to text you. I think she’s having a reaction to something, I don’t know—”
“Nn-Nat don-bel—eev ‘m,” your warning slurs together into an unintelligible soup as your head lolls. Nathalie tries to stand you up against the counter, and dimly you are aware of her calling for your parents, her voice muffled like she’s talking underwater.
Lloyd—or is it Ransom?—lays you down on the countertop, his grinning face looming over you as your vision narrows down to a pinprick, the concern in his voice at complete odds with the grin on his face.
“Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.”
to be continued…
next chapter
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in relation to this post, could we get some super nasty breeding kink sex when he comes home from a mission? i imagine him just feral and needing you so bad all rough and the nastiest words coming from him
Conception*
a/n: there’s no link or anything but I’m assuming you’re talking about the steve edit i posted LOLLLL
summary: Steve comes home from a high risk mission and decides he doesn’t want to wait any longer
warnings: smut, lil bit of angst, breeding kink, rough sex, dirty talk, creampie ofc, needy Steve, aftercare
word count: 2.6k
~
YN hums softly along to Video Games by Lana Del Ray, a look of concentration adorning her face as she puts the finishing touches on the dinner she’s prepared. She’s expecting Steve home sometime tomorrow morning so she fills a tupperware container full of half the delicious meal she made.
Her stomach grumbles in hunger as soon as she gets a whiff of the potatoes, steamed vegetables, and steak bites, her mouth practically watering in anticipation. Once she’s plated the other half for herself, she makes her way to the couch and sits down to enjoy.
A small smile forms on her face and she does a little happy dance as she quickly turns on her favorite show and digs in. She manages to finish almost the whole plate and sits it on the coffee table in front of her, pulling her legs up onto the couch to relax as she finishes up another episode.
When it’s over she finally forces herself up off the couch and to the kitchen to clean up the dishes she’s messed up, turning on some more music to keep her focused. Just as she’s finishing up, she hears the sound of her front door being opened and ultimately slammed shut. She apprehensively makes her way to the entrance of the kitchen and peeks her head out, relieved to see Steve standing in the living room, still in his uniform.
“You scared the shit out of me,” she chuckles, stepping into the room with him. Only then does she realize he’s literally panting as if he’d ran here from his mission, and she frowns as she begins to ask him what’s wrong.
Before she can even blink he’s got her pinned against their living room wall, his lips on hers. It takes her a moment but then she’s kissing him back with the same amount of aggression he gave her, and then he’s lifting her up until their hips are touching, immediately grinding against her.
The material of his suit is causing great friction, the fact that she’s wearing nothing but a pair of flimsy panties helping as well. They’re moaning into each other’s mouths, as they grind against one another, desperate to get off as quickly as possible.
They’re both lost in the bliss of their bodies on one another until Steve pulls away abruptly. “No,” he shakes his head. “Can’t take you right here, it’s not right. Have to go to the bed,” he says, but it’s more to himself than her, and she’s obliging and turning to leave. Until he grabs her arm and pulls her back to him, hoisting her up to his waist and pressing his lips to hers again. His hands move down to grip her ass cheeks as he begins the trek to their room, and he somehow manages to successfully tear the panties off of her with one hand, letting them fall to the floor as he walks.
As they finally make their way into the neat bedroom, he tosses YN onto the bed and she sees the literally feral look in his eyes, not concerned but curious as to what’s got him this way. Before she can ask him, he’s on her again, his hand reaching forward to palm her breasts, but she needs to make sure his head is in the right place before they move forward.
He’s a bit shocked when she rejects him, making him snap out of whatever daze he’d been in. “Steve. What’s going on with you?” she questions, a look of confusion on her face as she tries to think of what’s made him this way.
He looks at her for a beat as he reads her face, trying to figure out what the best way is to say this. A quick battle in his mind leads to him just coming right out and saying it. “I wanna have a baby,” he blurts, and YN’s eyes widen a fraction before going back to normal. For a moment it’s just silence, and he’s worried he’s done something wrong.
“Are you…sure about this?” she questions, choosing her words wisely. “I thought you weren’t ready,” she finishes. Her eyes wander over his face as she makes sure there’s nothing off with his demeanour, and sure enough, it’s the Steve she knows. But that doesn’t quell her confusion.
Steve is slightly offended by her question, his mood shifting just a bit. “What do you mean am I sure? Why else would I say this?” he scoffs, moving off of her to sit next to her. She sits up when he does, now a bit upset at his tone.
“Steve, just last month you told me you weren’t ready. You can’t be mad at me for wanting to be sure,” she reasons. Steve is confused for a moment until it all clicks.
~
One month earlier
YN and Steve both finally have a free day, deciding to spend it together. Instead of staying home, though, they opt for a day out on the town, hitting some shops and even stopping at a nearby bakery. In quiet bakery, they sit and indulge in their pastries and coffee as they make conversation about anything under the sun, until the sound of small cries catch their attention.
They both whip their heads over to the source and see a little baby boy no more than a few months old crying, and after a few moments of investigation they realize he’s dropped his binky out of the stroller. YN hops up and grabs it for the overwhelmed mother, tapping her on the shoulder as she’d been trying to console her son.
The woman is a little startled by YN’s presence but her eyes soften as she realizes what she’s holding, thanking YN for returning the binky back to her. “No problem, I couldn’t just leave it down there while you tried to find it or figure out where it was,” she explains, smiling softly. From there, the woman and YN go into a small conversation about her son, and YN’s heart just melts at how fondly the mother, whose name she found out was Harper, spoke of her son Jacob.
The two finish up their conversation with an exchange of numbers, and YN heads back to Steve with a pep in her step, sitting down with a smile. Almost immediately she goes into how cute Jacob was and everything she and the mother had talked about. In the midst of her rambling, she hadn’t noticed Steve had gotten quiet until now.
“I can’t wait to be a mom someday! Can you imagine a little me or a little you running around one day?” she asked, still smiling brightly. The smile was quickly wiped from her face when Steve didn’t answer her, but stood up and announced he was ready to go home. Her frown deepens at that, and she quietly gathers her things and they start the trek home, walking in silence beside one another as YN keeps herself from breaking down on the middle of the sidewalk.
They arrive home after what felt like an eternity to her, and she speeds to the bathroom and closes the door behind her, turning on the shower before letting herself begin to cry. She thought she’d been discreet with her sobs, but not long after she hears the bathroom door open and she silences herself. Through the foggy glass of the shower she can see Steve begin to strip down before he’s climbing in with her. Her back is to him but he already knows what’s happening so he turns her to him and pulls her into his chest.
The sobs start up again immediately, now with no restraint as she doesn’t need to hide from him anymore. He’s soothing her silently, rubbing his hand up and down her back and hasn’t stopped scolding himself for the way he reacted. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers once her cries quiet to small sniffles.
She shakes her head against him and he frowns, leaning back to get a good look at her face as she begins to speak. “No, I’m sorry,” she starts, and he’s about to say something but she stops him. “I jumped the gun, I shouldn’t have put so much pressure on you so early. I know we’ve only been married for two months and-,” she’s cut off by the feeling of his lips on hers, silencing her rambling.
“Baby,” he whispers, even more guilty now that she feels it’s her fault. “Stop that right now. This is not your fault, it’s mine. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did,” he firmly tells her, making sure she doesn’t believe she’s at fault. “You did nothing wrong. It’s just…I think I need a little bit more time. My life is so crazy and I want to be invested fully,” he explains.
“I should have expressed that, and I want you to know that as soon as I am ready you will be the first to know,” he finishes.
“I know and I’m sorry. We definitely need more time with just us,” she responds, her worries not completely leaving but staying in the back of her mind for the time being.
~
Now
“The mission I was just on…we were outnumbered,” he starts, taking her hands in his. “We almost died. And all I could think about as we were fighting as you. How you were here waiting for me to come home. I thought about coming home to you and our kids, the way I know you’d love them the way you love me, and I don’t want to die without getting to experience that with you,” he explains, and she’s listening intently as she takes in his words
“It’s just… I don’t want you to regret this later. I’d rather not be pregnant or a mother alone or have you resent me because I rushed you into this,” she explains to him, expressing her worries.
He was a little hurt by her words but he understands where she’s coming from, frowning as he sees the tears falling from her eyes. Reaching up he thumbs them away before speaking again. “I know, baby. And I’m so sorry I made you feel that way. I would never,” he starts, pausing to think over his next words.
“I’ve taken a break from saving the world for a bit. They’ve got it under control,” he smiles, pulling her in again as she cries harder at his revelation. “All I could think about while I was in there was us and our family, how happy we could be together. There’s nothing I want more,” he finishes, his little speech making her heart melt.
She scans his face for any sign of regret and when she finds none, she’s all in. He can see her eyes change almost immediately, and she’s taking her shirt off before throwing it somewhere in the room. “Well if you’re ready, why don’t we get to it?” she questions, and there’s no hesitation. He’s up and stripping so fast she has no time to comprehend it. The moment he’s naked he finally looks up at her to see her with her legs spread, a hand in between them.
Thinking back on that day now, he can’t believe he even thought like that. All he can imagine now is the fact that he’s about to get his own personal slice of heaven, manhandling YN until she’s on her hands and knees in front of him. To provide himself with even more access to his favourite place he just reaches forward and pushes on her back until her face is buried in the duvet.
Seeing her all dripping and clenching around nothing sends the last bit of his restraint practically bleeding from his body as he takes his cock in his hand and strokes it a few times. YN wants to look back and see what he’s doing but she knows better, staying where he’s placed her.
“Can’t believe this is all for me,” he chokes, rubbing his thumb over the leaking, throbbing tip of himself. It’s only a few more seconds of his filthy moans and grumbling under his breath about how beautiful she looks before she’s inhaling sharply at the feeling of him parting her lips with his thumb and spitting filthily right where she needs him, her weepy hole clenching around nothing in anticipation.
“Please,” she begs, and Steve, never being one to deny her when she looks and sounds so pretty for him, obliges almost instantly. Not even a seconds later he’s gently gripping the base of his aching cock and parts her lips with the head, running it through to lubricate himself before he’s got the tip nudged at her entrance.
The sound it makes when he finally sinks himself into her is nothing short of obscene, a wet squelching sound accompanying the both of their moans of relief. He can barely contain himself when he immediately begins to thrust in and out of her, his body seemingly moving on its own to take what they both need.
“Fuck, I can’t wait to see you pregnant,” he grunts, his thrusts getting harder as his thoughts get dirtier. “Gonna keep you so full of my cum at all times to make sure it sticks. God, I can imagine it now. How beautiful you’ll look round and full of our kids,” he continues, and the way he used it in plural form doesn’t get lost on YN, her loud moans of pleasure being muffled slightly by the sheets.
Steve, always being one to want to hear what he’s doing to her, reaches forward and grabs a fistful of her hair and pulls her up until he can hear her loud and clear. He can feel her legs start to shake and give out beneath her but he’s holding all of her weight up, fucking her as if his life depends on it, and to him it does. “You like the sound of that?” he asks, not slowing his punishing pace.
She can barely nod with the grip he has on her hair but she manages to, choking out a plea for him to do exactly that. “You wanna be so full of my cum at all times that you’re leaking down your legs, exhausted from how many times I work you on my cock?” he grits out through clenched teeth, trying to stave off his impending orgasm in an attempt to wait for hers.
No more words can leave her lips, just cries and sobs of pleasure as he’s drills so deep inside of her she can barely breathe. I mean he has to be puncturing her lungs at this point. Her orgasm is coming and it’s coming fast, but of course she can’t warn Steve, speechless. He knows her inside and out, though, and doesn’t need a warning to know what’s coming. (double pun is crazy)
“I know, don’t have to tell me. I can feel how tight you’re squeezing my cock. Go on, soak me, show me how much you want to be full of me and I’ll do just that,” he demands, and YN, always the obedient one, cums instantaneously. Her orgasm makes his hips stutter immediately as she locks down on him so tight, her body so tense that he can’t move. He lets go of her hair in a split decision, and he’s glad he did. He uses that same hand to reach around and rub at her clit quickly, making her tense up even tighter before relaxing entirely as she squirts all over the bed sheets below them, Steve praising her throughout the entire time.
Her orgasm sends him flying over the edge with a loud swear, his hips flush against hers as he floods her with his warm cum. It seems like it lasts for forever, his balls seeming to get fuller the more he cums. When he’s finally drained of all he has he stays buried inside of her for warmth for a while before he’s pulling out slowly and just sitting there and watching his cum start to drip from her.
He helps her fully lie down on her stomach before he’s getting off the bed, shushing her whines of protest. “Just gonna get you cleaned up, gonna be right back,” he coos, running a hand on her back to ground her a bit more so he can leave. She gives him a weak nod and then he’s hurrying out of the room to get a wet washcloth for her.
The process of cleaning her up is a bit rough with how sensitive she is but he makes it work, cleaning her up quickly and throughly before cleaning himself. He then helps her to the bathroom to pee, her body very weak but he knows she needs to do so.
When she’s all done they end up going into the guest room and sleeping there instead of sleeping on their soaked bed, Steve making a mental note to clean up first thing in the morning, he’s way too exhausted right now. When in the room, he helps her get all comfortable and tucked in before turning off the light and climbing in as well, pulling her into his embrace. The both of them start to doze immediately, and within a few minutes they’re both out, soft snores filling the room.
~
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From happy and full of life.. 🥳To faking a smile and losing followers...😔
I adore Evans because of how much he loves his fans and his dog and family.
Chris was at a con this weekend and honestly he looks happy in some of the ops but some i know he's faking his smiles and maybe even laughs.
He's going through so much from this PR stuff and Trollba posting to her story so she's getting all the views and not him...it's awful!
thankfully the panel didn't ask about her but he light up talking about Dodger (his one true love)
And he talked about his work and other stuff. But at the end of the day Chris is tired from all of this.
He's tired of faking a smile, he's tired of losing fans and Honestly I'm tired of this pr stuff. I hope he finds help soon.
that's all for now.
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I personally don’t care who chris dates, I’ve been here since minka but he’s been so strange and boring lately. So I’ve moved on to other people to pay attention to. I mean chris pine has such a good attitude and personality. Chris evans just…repeats himself over and over and tries too hard to be seen as this “deep and intelligent” man when he’s pretty average and shallow.
LISTEN
I don't care how much potential hate I might get for this, SO....
I will say it and if you want, I am okay with yelling it from the rooftops, because it do be the truth
Chris Evans? He is not deep and intelligent.
Anyone who has ever known someone who is actually deep and intelligent (or who might even be so, themselves) knows that.
It is all an act.
I have been preaching this for what seems like forever, but I want to keep making this point, over and over.
The Chris Evans we think we know is not the actual person that is Christopher Robert Evans.
So so much of his public persona is fabricated for the masses. For fans. For PR. For likability.
And it's become very very obvious in the past few months.
And now you might say; well, that just goes for a few parts of him.
But here's the thing; it doesn't.
Because if he could do this, then what couldn't he do? Some of what he's showed us might be real, but some of it might also be fabricated.
And with everything that's happened, I'm leaning towards the latter. And it is a lot easier to just assume that 99% of what we know about this man is fabricated.
Because nothing adds up anymore. None of the persona we loved or supported is there right now. And it's a lot easier to just accept that and say "Okay, well, he was probably never the person we thought he was."
Because why would he be?
I find it a lot more believable that he was portraying a character (he is an actor, after all) rather than that he was baring his soul to millions of people and has now done a 180 and completely changed as a person.
Darkness always lurked underneath the surface.
But the muscles, the jawline, the cheekbones, the wigs, the spraytans, the nosejobs, the CGI, the fucking dickpic, just kept us distracted you guys.
It kept us distracted. And we ate that shit up.
But now it's time to put that god damn fork down and look at what we're really eating. And realize that the meal we're being served?
Is fucking BULLSHIT.
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You're Mine
pairing: dark!alpha lloyd hansen x omega!fem!reader
summary: months after leaving Court’s pack, Lloyd decides to take what’s his.
word count: 4k+
warnings: non-con(aka rape) but also dub-con. dirty talk, p in v sex, blood kink if you squint. abo dynamics/werewolf au. kidnapping. lloyd is an asshole in the beginning. forced intimacy. let me know if I missed any warnings. if you’re uncomfortable with any of these themes, scroll past this. you are in charge of your own media consumption. Minors do not interact!!! 🔞
A/N: This is a repost from my other blog since it got deleted. If you enjoyed this, please reblog/ give feedback!
requests are currently open! | read on AO3
He’d been watching Y/N for a while now, unbeknownst to her. Always a few feet away or hiding in the shadows at night. Lloyd has perfected the art of stealth, due to years of experience with working with the CIA. Also, there’s the fact that he’s the Alpha of his pack. He won’t let her see him until he’s ready. And he can’t quite put his finger on it , but there’s just something about her that reels him in.
Recently, he’s found it hard to control himself around Y/N. He blames it on those sundresses she always likes to wear, now that the summer heat has rolled around the corner. The way they hug her curves, the way those spaghetti straps fall off her shoulders, and the way her curls cascade down her back.
He’s lost track of how many times he’s stayed up, thinking about her, fucking his own fist to the lewd images of her invading his mind, imagining her plump lips wrapped around him. Lloyd dreams of taking her away from that obnoxious boyfriend of hers and one day making Y/N his.
And don’t get him started on her scent. It’s intoxicating. And she’s not even in heat yet. A mix of vanilla, honey and lavender. He can’t get her out of his mind. He’s got to have her—and he will but he’s got to pick the perfect moment.
One night, he follows Y/N on her regular run to the grocery store. She was gathering a few essentials. Her heat was due in a few days and she wanted to be prepared. It’s late. Eleven o’ clock, to be precise. She makes the mistake of dropping her bags in the middle of the alleyway and that’s when he decides to pounce. Y/N jerks up as soon as she feels herself being shoved back against the brick building, followed by the cloth that covers her face.
Y/N begins to fight back. Her arm comes up to knock his hand out of the way but she freezes the moment she feels his hand wrap around the base of her neck, eyes going wide.
Refusing to give up, she reluctantly raises her knee to his groin but he blocks it with his thigh.
“Tsk, tsk”, is the last thing she hears before she feels her whole body go heavy and all her surroundings go black. He’s got her.
—
Lloyd watches in the corner as she stirs, shielded by the darkness. God, she was gorgeous. But more importantly, she was his.
Cold air prickles her bare shoulders, her eyes flutter open, feeling heavy lidded and swollen. She moves to rub both of her arms, but strong leather prevents her. Y/N blinks a few times before her vision clears, a long black strap fastened against her forearms. She begins to squirm and fidget, making the hard bed frame beneath her squeak.
Everything is a bit of a blur, images all jumbled together like mismatched pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. She remembers leaving the grocery store, and walking down the dark alley and then— nothing.
“Help!” She croaks out.
“Hello, Sunshine,” Lloyd’s deep voice alone almost makes her jump out of her skin. She freezes, watching as he steps out of the shadows before her. If she didn’t know better she could have sworn her heart stopped. “Where am I?”
“You’re home.”
Home? What the fuck was he talking about? Brows furrow as she processes his answer. Y/N squirms against the restraints. “Where’s Court? Lloyd, this isn’t funny.” She’s hoping this is some sort of sick joke. That any minute he’ll confess that all of this isn’t real but Y/N’s smarter than that.
For as long as she’s known him, Lloyd’s always had a short temper. There’s been many times she thought he was going to rip Court’s throat out. And at the time she couldn’t quite understand how he could be so sweet to her and absolutely feral the next.
His jaw clenched and Lloyd fights the urge to ball his fists. How dare she bring up his name right now.
“He’s not here.”
“Where is he?” she demands, eyes narrowing and desperately trying to squeeze one hand free but to no avail. She was too weak right now.
Lloyd strides over. Placing a hand to her forehead, he brushes a few strands of hair out of her face. Y/N pauses at the sudden touch.
“That’s not important. Now, if I take these off, are you gonna be good?”
Y/N nods and watches him as he slowly unbuckles the strap. She sits up carefully, taking in her surroundings. The basement is cold and damp, lined with brick walls and cement floors. A small ceiling lamp was the only thing that illuminated the space she was in, the rest filled with darkness.
There was no sign of any exit. Not one she could see, at least. The only window in sight was the small one above her bed, covered with steel iron bars.
“How long have I been here?” She mumbles, looking back up at him through dark lashes.
“A few days.” Lloyd followed her roaming eyes.
“You’re not getting out of here without my help.”
“Lloyd, please, let me go. I need— I need to be with Court.” Y/N begged, voice cracking. She hated how desperate she sounded. Y/N tried to put on a brave face, but panic was setting in. She watched as his eyes softened. And for a minute she thought she saw empathy in them.
She was wrong.
“Shh. Listen, Sunshine. You’re not going anywhere,” leaning down, his lips only a few inches from hers, “You’re mine.” Strong fingers trace the line of her jaw, “Besides, a man like Gentry isn’t gonna be there for you like I can. Nor could he give you what you want.
“And you think you can?”
“Oh, I know I can, sweetheart.”
Y/N pushes him back and stands up abruptly. “This is ridiculous.” She steps forward, legs wobbly at first. And for a minute she thinks Lloyd will let her get away. But the moment she walks past him, his arms slink around her waist, pulling her into him, back against his firm chest, his other hand wrapped around her neck.
“No, what’s ridiculous is how fucking loyal you are to that asshole. Pumpkin, we’re not gonna play this game.” He whispered, nuzzling his nose in the crook of her neck.
“Don’t you know how long I’ve waited for this? How many times I stood there and watched him kiss you, touching you?” Strong hands traveled upward, cupping both of her breasts. He gently squeezed them, warm breath tickling her neck.
Y/N gasps at the sudden touch, honeyed heat pooling in her lower stomach. She hated how much power he yielded over her, how he made her feel.
“God, I want you... But that’ll have to wait.” He grips her hips, turning her to face him. “Tell me, how many days until your heat is due?”
“T-tomorrow.”
“We need to prepare then. Come.”
To be honest, everything in her is telling her no, to run. But she doesn’t have much choice. Y/N couldn’t remember the last two days and Lloyd, despite her lack of trust in him, was the only one offering her any support when it came to dealing with her heat.
He guided her out of the moldy basement and when they reached his bedroom, he ordered his men to bring in the necessities she’d need to nest. He’d laid out a gown, along with a pair of towels for her to bathe. Y/N felt guilty how the hairs on the back of her neck stood, the butterflies swimming in her stomach.
For as long as she’d known Lloyd, one thing was for sure. He wasn’t a nice man and he always had something up his sleeve.
When Y/N stepped into the shower, her shoulders dropped, relaxed by the feeling of warm water cascading down her back. She hadn’t really noticed how much tension that had been built up the past few days.
She tilts her head back, rubbing the soap over her collar bone, eyes fluttering shut. And for a moment, she forgets where she’s at and who’s awaiting her outside the bathroom. God, how did she get here? Y/N mentally curses herself, remembering her boyfriend’s warning.
How he advised her not to go out when it was so late, how she gave him a reassuring smile, kissed his cheek and said, “I’ll be fine.” And oh, how wrong she was.
When Y/N’s finished, she steps out of the shower and grabs a towel, wrapping it around herself. She takes a deep breath, before turning the knob and opening the door and she’s not surprised when she spots Lloyd laying down on the bed before her, hands intertwined and resting behind the back of his neck.
A devilish smirk is etched onto his features as he glances at her. He likes her like this; nervous, fidgeting and nowhere to go. Nothing, nobody can stop him from taking what’s his now.
“Lloyd, where are my clothes?”
“Right here,” he nods to the end of the bed. He rises from the bed, stalking towards her. “But, before you do. I have one small favor to ask.”
“Lloyd, please, no more games.” Y/N gripped her towel tighter around her, she starts to walk around him but he stepped to the side, blocking her path.
“This isn’t a game, pumpkin. When are you going to get that through that beautiful head of yours?” He wraps an arm around her. “Now, give me a kiss and I’ll let you get dressed.”
“N-no. I’m not kissing you.” she stutters, her hands coming up to push against his chest, but she stops herself when his eyes turn icy with anger.
“Am I gonna have to teach you a lesson?” He leans in, nose pressed against her scent gland. “If you don’t behave, I’ll have to shove my cock between those pretty little lips of yours.”
“But you’d probably like that, wouldn’t you?” He taunts, fingers trailing over her bottom lip. “I can smell your arousal even now. Bet if I ripped this towel off of ya’, you’d be soaking wet. Would you like that?”
Y/N gulps, heart racing. She can feel the heat rise from her neck, goosebumps spreading down her damp shoulders. She was loyal to Court but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t attracted to Lloyd.
Maybe it was his casual stance, paired perfectly with that cocky smirk that drew her in. Or those striped polo shirts and the way they always fit tightly against his broad chest.
Or maybe it’s the fact that deep down, she‘s attracted to this darker side of him. The way he would deny authority, his impulsivity. Once Lloyd transformed into an Alpha, everything had shifted. Something more feral had awakened in him.
She remembers how he’d manhandle the other females, and that one night she walked in on him, fucking another omega, secretly wishing it had been her. Y/N remembers it like it was yesterday— he’d had the other girl pinned, back against the wall, legs wrapped around him. Lloyd’s strong arms holding her thighs, as he pounded into her. The image still makes her heart race.
Y/N watches him pull away and grips her wrist, pulling her over to the king sized bed and pushing her down.
“Lloyd, I’m not kissing you.” she seethes, glaring up at him. “You will,” Lloyd ignores her, pushing her back against the bed, “if you want to get dressed.”
He leans down, arms placed on both sides of her. “Or I could just rip this towel off of you right now, take away these clothes and just have my way with you?”
Y/N glares up at him, fists clenched and pushing against his chest but it’s useless. When it comes to him, she’s powerless. “Lloyd. Don’t do this. I love Court—“
His lips form into a wicked grin, eyes scanning hers. Y/N feels her breath hitch in her throat, stomach churning. “You really shouldn’t have said that.” he growled, grabbing both of her wrists and pinning them above her head. “Gentry is gone. He’s not your Alpha anymore. I am.”
“L-lloyd,” He interrupts with his lips touching her collarbone, then her neck. “That’s better.” He hums against her skin before he reaches the corner of her mouth. Finally, his lips find hers, needy and hungry. This. It’s better than anything his mind could conjure up.
And this definitely makes up for those lonely nights he spent dreaming of her. Y/N lets out a small whimper and Lloyd can feel the bulge in his pants growing. She once again, squirms underneath him, making her towel slide a few inches. When his lips leave hers, she’s breathless, mind spinning, eyes gazing down at his mouth.
Lloyd’s lips curl into a small grin. “Hmm. Seems like Gentry wasn’t much of a good kisser.” He taunts. When he pulls away she can’t help but sense this feeling of disappointment. Her cheeks heat up again as she sits up from bed.
Y/N grips her towel a bit too quickly because when she looks up again, he’s standing in front of her, grin widening. “Aw, cupcake, don’t play coy now.”
Y/N stood up from the bed, hands resting on her hips. “I don’t suppose you’re going to give me the courtesy of leaving while I change?”
“Leave the room?” He raises a brow, pulling out an unlit cigarette out of his pocket, “’M afraid not, pumpkin.”
“Then can you please turn around?”
“Why?” He quirks up an eyebrow, grin never faltering. “Don’t tell me Court’s never seen you naked?”
“I-I —well…” Y/N trips over her words before she regains her composure. “Lloyd, please?”
“Fine. Just this once.” With a huff, he finally turns around. After a few seconds, she drops her towel and slips on the red silk gown. Her eyes wander over to him after she’s clothed, and she’s surprised to find out his back is still facing her.
“Okay,” Y/N finally says, arms crossed against her chest.
When he turns, his gaze wanders from her hair, stopping all the way down to her knees where the dress stops. The gown hugs her curves. Lloyd tilts his head, eyes still scanning her body. It’s a shame she’s covering her chest. She’s absolutely gorgeous. Lloyd’s had many girlfriends in the past but none of them compare to Y/N.
He hasn’t been staring long but it’s starting to bother her. She tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear before fiddling with her fingers. “Well? Is this up to your satisfaction?” she asks, gesturing to her outfit.
“Sweetheart, you have no idea.”
—
After dinner, Lloyd had dragged her out onto the balcony to watch the sunset. He’d been careful not to let her get too far away from him. He wasn’t an idiot. Just because he’d wined and dined her didn’t mean she was now content with her new surroundings. It would take some time.
But then she flashed those doe eyes at him, those plump lips, pressed her chest against his. “Lloyd, you went through all this trouble for me.” She finally breathes out, delicate hands traveling up his chest and slinking around his neck. “When all you had to do was ask,” Y/N whispers, both hands now cupping his face.
He furrows his brows, he can’t believe the words he’s hearing. He opens his mouth to respond but she shakes her head. The next thing he knows, she’s leaning up and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. His grip tightens around her waist, hands traveling lower and lower. Y/N tries her best to force out a moan. She’s raising her knee swiftly and when it comes in contact with his crotch, she’s pushing him away.
Y/N doesn’t wait. This is her chance. Turning around, she runs down the stairs, the stone steps are rough and warm under her feet. Once she reaches the grass, she breaks off into a sprint, arms at her sides, as she hears muffled screams echoing her name.
—
She’s running, running as fast as her feet will carry her. It’s dark and cold, the only thing illuminating her path is the moonlight above her. Y/N can feel the slight chill creeping into her bones, the harsh leaves from the bushes scratching her skin, as she sprints through the woods. But she can’t stop.
Her eyes scan the woods for an escape. Anything. An old shed, a bush. She knows he’s not far behind her. She’s still holding out hope that she’ll allude him. She’s got to escape, she can’t go back. Y/N knows what fate has in store for her. A man she doesn’t love, doesn’t want. Lloyd’s been waiting, aching to claim her once and for all.
He can feel the anger swelling up inside him, coursing through his veins and fueling his strength. His hands slowly clenched into fists. Ungrateful little bitch, he thinks. He should have known. Should have known this was all an act, just so she could escape. And on the night before her heat, no less. What was she thinking…Lloyd’s mentally scolding himself. He saw the way she was looking for an exit earlier this morning. He should have never let his guard down.
Lloyd pushes his thoughts away. He can’t dwell on the past. He needs to focus on rectifying this mistake. He’s waited too long to let her slip through his fingers. He’s sprinting by now, he raises his chin, letting that familiar scent invade his nostrils. She’s close. He can feel it.
Y/N can hear the crickets, the leaves crunching beneath her bare feet. It’s only been a few minutes but it feels as if she’s been running for hours. Her heart’s beating faster, but she can’t tell if that’s the fear creeping in or the energy slowly being drained from her body. She can feel her muscles beginning to ache.
She’s close to the edge of the forest. She can hear the sound of cars speeding by, honking, the glow of the headlights through the crack in the trees. She’s almost there when her leg gives way on a fallen branch. There’s a crunch, followed by her feet tripping over themselves.
Before she can catch her breath, she hears footsteps behind her. With a fist full of her hair, she falls backwards on the ground. “There you are,” he purrs, his lips pressed against the corner of her mouth. “Did you actually think you were going to escape me?” When Y/N doesn’t answer, his grip tightens around her scalp, making her wince and let out a small whimper that makes his dick twitch.
When he releases his grip from her, he bends down and picks her up, carrying her over his shoulder. “Lloyd, let me go!” she screams, fists pounding repeatedly on his back. But he doesn’t budge. The only response she’s left with is him chuckling darkly, as he makes his way back to the house.
When the two of them reach the top of the stairs, he’s grabbing her wrist, tightly. Slamming open the bedroom door, he pushes Y/N forward, making her stumble over her feet.
He’s striding over towards her, eyes darkening with lust, lips pressed into a thin line. Y/N doesn’t have to read his mind to know he’s angry, furious even.
Lloyd closes the gap between them with one last step. And the moment he sees her head dip down in fear, his hand grips her chin. “What? Not so talkative now, are we?”
“L-Lloyd, I’m sorry. I promise. I won’t do it again. P-please?”
“Oh, sweetheart. I’m gonna make sure you never leave again. Now be a good girl and lay down.” Without another word he releases her from his grip. Y/N stumbles back on to the bed, eyes darting from his dark ones as his hands slide down to the buckle on his jeans.
With one swift movement, he unzips his jeans, pulling them down along with his boxers, letting his cock spring up. Y/N looks away, eyes burning as tears fill up the corners of her eyes. “Lloyd, please, you don’t have to do this,” she pleads, voice cracking.
”You’ve given me no choice, Y/N. You know, I was going to be nice. Let you nest for tomorrow, prepare for your heat. Then I was going to break that bonding gland, be gentle with you so it wouldn’t hurt.” Lloyd pushes her back on the bed, pushing up the hem of her red gown, the one he’d given her a few hours ago. “But that’s all changed.”
He’s sliding her panties to the side now, guiding his thick tip at her entrance. “Aw, look at that, already so wet for me.” He leans down, hand at her throat again. “That little stunt of yours, you liked me chasing you. It turns you on, doesn’t it? You like getting chased.”
Y/N lets out a small whimper, fingers clawing at the bed sheets, her head turning away from him. “Don’t deny it, Y/N. You and I both know it’s true.” His lips brush against her cheek, pressing a kiss at her jaw. “Remember, I can tell when you’re lying.”
Lloyd slams into her in one long thrust, his length filling her up completely. “Tomorrow, I’ll be the only man you think about, the only one you’ll want.” he pants, hot breath fanning over her face. Y/N squeezes her eyes shut.
Lloyd doesn’t slow down, each thrust faster than the one before. His nose is pressed against her neck. “You just had to go and fuck it all up, didn’t you?” He growls, fingernails digging into her flesh as he grabs her face. “Look at me. I wanna see that pretty face of yours while I fuck you.”
Her eyes flutter open, vision blurry from her tears. “Lloyd, please. I’m sorry,” she sobs, body betraying her as her walls clench around him.
Lloyd ignores her pleads, hand still clasped around her throat. “But you feel so good around me, baby. Look at you, taking my cock so well.” He leaves a sloppy kiss to her lips, pace slowing down, being extra careful not to knot inside her right now. His thumb strokes the side of her neck.
”This is gonna hurt, babygirl. But it’ll be worth it. Okay?”
Y/N sniffles, brows furrowed in confusion but then his eyes turn red, fangs extending. He doesn’t give her time to respond, his mouth is on her neck, teeth sinking into flesh. Her hands are gripping the sheets tighter and it takes all the strength she has to fight the urge to scream.
Blood trickles down her chest, soaking and blending into her gown. Y/N gasps, pain courses through her neck and shoulder. She’s shutting her eyes again, wishing this was all some terrible dream. “No... P-please, stop.” she mumbles, body trembling underneath him. “It hurts.”
“Shh, baby. It’s almost over.” He coos, lips curled into a slanted smirk. Lloyd licks up the rest of the blood before his mouth finds hers. This time he’s kissing her softly, rough hands coming up to cup her cheeks, gently wiping away her tears.
Y/N gulps down the metallic taste in her mouth. When Lloyd pulls away his eyes have softened. He’s looking at her face, anger now replaced with adoration. “I can’t believe you’re all mine,” he whispers.
—
When she wakes, there’s only one thing on her mind: Lloyd. And the ache she feels. Her hands roam over her chest, thighs clenched together as her arousal drips between her legs. There’s a faint light peeking through the windows.
Y/N turns her head and when she realizes the space beside her is bare, she’s surprised. A small moan escapes past her parted lips and she’s cursing herself after it happens. She’s gone through her heat alone before and she could do it again. As if on cue, he’s walking through the door.
“Go away,” she seethes.
Lloyd strides over to her, flashing her that knowing smirk. It doesn’t help that he’s shirtless, gray sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips. Everything in her is urging her to leap off the bed and jump on him right here and now, but she refuses.
“You don’t mean that. I need you.” He breathes, he stops near the side of the bed, hovering over her, chest heaving up and down like he’s been running. Lloyd closes his eyes for a moment, inhaling her heat scent. It’s sweet. Better than anything he could imagine. The aroma alone clouds up his mind
“And I know you need me too.” He whispers. “Y/N, stop resisting. You’re in pain.”
“Fuck. It hurts.” She whispers, then she’s sitting up, she wants to peel off her skin it hurts so bad. It’s almost unbearable, the will to defy this want—no, need for him.
Y/N let’s put a shaky breath, eyes look up at him through dark lashes.
“Lloyd.”
“Yes?”
Y/N stands up, arms locking around his neck, her forehead pressed against his.
“Make it go away. Make the pain go away.”
“I’ll make it all better, baby.”
Her lips touch his with such neediness, such desire. Y/N doesn’t have room to feel any sense of guilt. There’s only a need for him. Only him.
He’s halfway tempted to rip off her gown,leaving her bare so there’s nothing standing between them. Just skin on skin but he ignores the urge. He eagerly pushes up the hem of her gown, ripping off her panties instead.
Lloyd slides his hand under her thighs, wrapping her legs around his waist. This time, he slides into her slowly. He wants to take his time, wants to cherish the moment. The gasp she lets out is music to his ears, her hands are now sinking into his hair. Another moan leaving her lips with each thrust.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he breathes, forehead touching hers. Heat-scent invading his mind. She’s like a drug—a high he doesn’t want to let go of.
Her fingernails are grazing over his scalp, tugging on his locks when he finally hits that sweet spot of hers, slick dripping down his thighs. “Lloyd, please don’t stop.”
“Fuck, sweetheart. You look so pretty like this,” he coos. “My pretty omega. All mine. I was meant for you.”
And then her walls are fluttering around him, fingernails trailing and then digging into his skin at the back of his shoulders. Lloyd let’s out a low groan, his mouth finding hers once more. “I can’t believe this is real. I’ve wanted you for so long.”
His nose now pressed into the crook of her neck. “Am I making you feel good, Princess?” Her answer is a strangled moan, fingers digging in deeper, pulling him closer if that’s even possible. And now he’s picking up the pace, nipping at the sensitive skin on her neck.
Her heart is pounding in her chest and Lloyd can feel it. He’s now leaving a trail of kisses down her neck, her chest, until his mouth is on her clothed breast, the thin, silk fabric not much of a barrier. Y/N’s head falls back, clutching his shoulders as he holds her in his arms.
He’s fucking her, hard and fast, a desperate need for him and when he pulls away, his forehead is pressed to hers again, eyes staring down at her doe-eyed one’s. “You’re perfect, Y/N.” He whispers.
“Lloyd,” her voice is cracking, her legs tightly wound around his waist are shaking as he thrusts and thrusts upwards, pleasure radiating up her spine. “This feels—this feels good.”
“Don’t you see, Y/N? You were made for me. Only me.” There’s nothing more divine than this. Suddenly she’s arching her back, chest to chest, sweat dripping down her forehead, down her neck, lips parted into a hushed scream as she spasms around him.
“That’s it,” he whispers, lips ghosting over hers. “Come for me, sweetheart. Come for me and I’ll give you my knot.”
Soon enough she’s devouring him in a frantic kiss. It’s messy and bruising and she’s locking her arms around him, almost as if she’s holding on for dear life. And then she’s coming, walls fluttering around him again.
His knot expands, pleasure climbing up her spine like fiery warmth. Lloyd can feel her quivering against him and he takes this moment to slide in deeper, pumping his cum into her.
After a few minutes they both collapse on the bed. With the little strength he’s got, he rolls both of them onto their sides. His knot keeps them linked together. Time seems to slow, both of them trying to catch their breaths. LLoyd nuzzles his nose into the crook of her neck, her back pressed against the warmth of his chest.
“Are you okay?” he says softly.
“Yeah. I still hate you though.” she mumbles, breath still slightly ragged.
A small chuckle leaves his lips. “You’re a bad liar, Y/N.”
#chris evans fanfic#cevans fanfic#cevans fandom#lloyd hansen#lloyd hansen x you#lloyd hansen x reader#dark lloyd hansen#lloyd hansen imagine#lloyd hansen smut#abo fic#dark fic#mywriting#oneshot.
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Never thought I would make this announcement but here we are LOL
Hello, Evans fandom I hope everyone is well. After thoughts and consideration for the past couple of weeks, I have decided to officially leave the fandom. I never thought this day would come and I would even be saying this but here we are. After how Chris has been acting toward his recent relationship even his fans I think it shows his true colors. You guys can hate me all you want but this started with how he has been silent about recent events in the middle east and etc. Before anyone says anything I'm Iranian and how he handles the Iran situation was barely up to expectation. After that ASP chat, he went radio silent, while other celebrities were vocal about it. So this is my reason you can support me or not i don't care. This is my choice at the end of the day.
Thank you
-HagarSays
#chris evans#christopher robert evans#christopher evans#evanstan#cevans#cevans fandom#Captian evans#captainevans#captainsamerica#captian america#captain america#nomad steve#chris evans steve rogers#steve rogers endgame#steve grant rogers#steve rogers#ransom drysdale#ransom thrombrey#hugh drysdale#dailyteamcap#johnny storm#harvard hottie#jake wyler#jake jensen#andy barber#ari levinson#llyod hansen#frank adler#colin shea#lucas lee
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Personal post: Sadly, I’m turning off and unfollowing blogs that I really like. Why? Because it pains me to see their posts about Chris Evans. It doesn't matter what I think about his personal life, of how bad he public image its turning, I didn't joined the fandom for this. I really believe in his talent and all the work he did so far.
I choose to focus in my way of enjoying this platform that I love so much. And instead of bitching about it, I will not give it/her my energy to make it/her stronger, it drains me and I choose my well-being.
So, here is to a happy new year. (because I don't really celebrate Christmas) CHEERS!
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Ari Levinson ─── Chris Evans
The Red Sea Diving Resort (2019)
#ari levinson#ari levinson imagine#the red sea diving resort#chrisevansedit#dilfsource#chris evans characters#flordeamatistagifs#dilfgifs#cevansgifs#cevansedit#chris evans fandom#moviesgifs#dailymarvelkings#dailymenedit#dailyflicks#cevans
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Pete Brenner - Pain Hustlers, 2023
#pete brenner#icons#pain hustlers#cevans#chris evans#chris evans fandom#pete brenner icons#chris evans icons#chris evans characters#movies icons#evansedit#cevansedit#johnny storm#johnny storm icons#human torch#marvel cinematic universe#marvel edit#mcu edit#captain america icons#captain america#marvel icons#steve rogers icons#the avengers#mcu icons#ghosted#ghosted 2023#twitter icons#icons sem psd#icons without psd#male icons
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Rainy Mornings
Pairings: Chris Evans x Wife! Reader
Word Count: 647
A/N: 18+ Reader, Smut, Morning Sex
Summary: Chris’ POV of a rainy morning with his wife.
Chris POV
The thunder wakes me up and I look over at the clock and it’s 6:00am. The room feels exceptionally dark on rainy days and I look over at Y/N and she’s sleeping facedown, using her forearm as her pillow and her face in my direction. Her curls are wildly covering the top of her head, her lips looking pouty. I can’t help but stare at her features and just smile. How did I get so lucky to have this angel as my wife? The thunder startles her a bit out of her slumber and she reaches for me and puts her arm across my chest and her leg over my waist. She puts her face into my neck and she inhales and kisses me lightly on my neck. I wrap my arm around her shoulder and lean down to kiss her forehead. “Morning sunshine.” She smiles up, “Hi, you sound like you’ve been awake for a while.” He chuckles, “Thunder has had me up for a while, I’ve been just laying here.” She sighs, “It’s early, let’s go back to sleep.” As she pets my chest hair and as I do every morning I immediately want to bury myself in her until it’s time to get up. “I have something better in mind, come warm up my dick babe” You start to grab her hips and pull her on you, she looks so beautiful over me. Her curls making her look like a lion, her eyes still a bit puffy from sleeping, her lips smiling down. She has one of my T-shirts on, only. I lift the t-shirt off of her, she leans down and pulls my boxers down, and she leans down to pet my beard before kissing all over my face. With her other hand she reaches between us and grabs my dick from the base and runs the tip of my dick through her wet folds. She finally brings me to her entrance and sits herself all the way down until I’m fully in her. We both sigh and groan at the same time, she’s so wet and warm like she always is. She looks down at me as we hear the rain and she puts her hands on my chest, she looks down and starts moving her hips in the slowest rhythm. I grab her hips and pull her hips back and forth, while she runs her hands up her own body and towards her nipples. She gently pinches her nipples and moans when I squeeze her ass. She parts her lips and sighs, “I love you, Chris” and she reaches down and runs her fingers through my hair as she kisses me lazily. I sit up so we’re facing each other and she continues to ride me. I run my fingers into the back of her head and with my other hand reach down between us and rub my thumb on her bundle of nerves. She moans into my mouth and I can feel her tighten around my dick. I groan with the sensation of this beautiful pussy wrapped around my dick. She starts to ride me harder as I rub her clit faster and she grabs the hair on the nape of my neck and throws her head back, “Omg, papi…” I continue to rub her clit and now I’m getting closer to reaching my climax and I can feel her tighten around me again and I know we’re about to reach it together. I kiss her neck and say, “let go, baby”. She squeezes my shoulders with her hands and she moans my name again as I release hot spurts into her warmth. I throw myself back and she falls on top of me. “Stay on top of me baby, keep it all inside of you.” She sleepily looks up and snuggles her face into my neck again and says, “let’s sleep a little longer before the little one wakes up in like 2 hours.”
#chris evans#chris evans smut#chris evans fandom#chris evans daddy#chris evans fan fiction#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans x you#chris evans x latina!reader#chris evans imagine#chris evans x y/n#Chris evans pov#chris evans x female reader#cevans smut#cevansnedit#chris evans fan fic writer#chris evans fanfics
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Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [6]
Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader
Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why.
Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!
Word Count: 3,776
A/N: whew. okay. we’re back, we’re updating, and we’re getting back on track. i think the motivation behind the madness is becoming a little clearer. or at least, more clear. i hope you all enjoy, and as always, comments and especially reblogs are always appreciated. ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics
It’s your wedding day, again.
You remember the soft white satin of your dress like it was yesterday—only it’s today, isn’t it? How can something happen again if it hasn’t happened yet? You look down at your hands, where the lacy sleeves of your wedding dress loop gracefully around your thumbs—your nails are picked raw and bleeding. You look back up at the mirror, and your own distraught face stares back at you.
I don’t want to get married.
No, that isn’t right—this is a good day, a happy day, why don’t you want it anymore? There is knowledge that dances just out of touch as you stare fuzzily at the mirror in your bridal suite. Something is wrong, but you don’t remember what it is. The mirror fragments, each component folding away as the world tilts on it’s axis, wood flooring becoming red carpet strewn with rose petals.
You stand at the altar, the priest beaming at you.
You will take him won’t you? As husband, husband and wife—Ransom splits in two like a cell, and both of them hold your hands so tight the bones creak and hurt and—
“I love you, Princess, Sweetheart, Darling, Mine—” One voice, two mouths, one person, two bodies. You don’t realize they’re pulling until you tear, splitting right down the middle like you’re made of tissue paper. too. Pulling you to bloody pieces as they repeat oaths of husbandly devotion.
My wife.
MY WIFE.
You wake up in darkness, your heart pounding in your chest. It disorients you, and you blink, expecting the cloud to clear from your eyes but it doesn’t. Immediately your hand goes to your stomach, and your frantic heartbeat calms just a fraction as you rest a hand on the gentle swell. The thoughts in your head are still an anxious jumble. Ransom, Lloyd, the party—
God, the party.
Your stomach churns as you recall Lloyd’s cruel smile.
Tell him. Tell me what he says.
You clap a hand to your mouth as an anguished sob threatens to escape. Ransom, Lloyd… where had they taken you? You frantically feel your way to the edge of the bed, your feet slipping a little on the cool tile as you stand.
“H-hello?” You call out into the darkness, but there’s no response. Trembling, you begin taking short, halting steps forward, your hands outstretched. “P-please, someone—fuck!” You curse loudly as your foot catches the edge of something, a table, a chair, you can’t tell. “Answer me!”
No one does.
You wander forward blindly until you reach a wall, and, feeling along it, you feel plaster turn to glass. You gasp, frantically dragging your hands along the surface until feel something—a switch. You flick it up, and there’s a sound like whirring gears. The lights don’t come on, but something else happens instead: the blackout shades on the other side of the thick pane of glass begin to lift, light creeping in underneath the edge. It’s blinding at first, spots dancing in your eyes as you throw a hand up to shield them, but after a moment, they adjust.
You see… a beach.
An empty beach.
The clear blue water comes straight up to the window like an aquarium. There are no people on the pristine, white sand—no one to hear you as you frantically beat your palm against the glass. Frantically, you turn around to take stock of the room, grabbing for a nearby chair. You knock over the little coffee table in the sitting area next to you, but you don’t care. It takes all your strength to heft it above your head, screaming as you slam it into the glass—
But nothing happens. It connects with a dull thud, the treated wood splintering as it cracks. The window is unharmed, barely even scratched. An anguished wail tears from your chest as you throw everything within reach that you can lift, beating everything into splinters until you’re left panting and sobbing in the wreckage.
“Sweetheart you know that really isn’t good for the baby.” You whirl around frantically, grabbing for the leg of a chair you’d broken into kindling against the indestructible-fucking-window, brandishing it threateningly. You hadn’t even heard the sound of a door opening—in fact, as you stare, wide-eyed around the room, trying to pin down his point of entry, you can’t seem to find a door at all in the lavishly decorated suite.
“Fuck you!” You snarl at him, your lip curling. “Let—let me out of here!” Ransom clucks his tongue at you like you’re an errant child.
“You’re a smart girl, Love. You know I’m not going to do that.”
“You can’t fucking keep me in here—” Ransom shakes his head.
“I can, Sweetheart. And I’m going to. We’re going to.” He casts a disparaging look down at the ruined chairs and table by your feet. “Lloyd did tell me not to put the good stuff in first—I underestimated your temper.” The casual remark makes you want to swing your makeshift bat at his head. “He designed it for you, you know. I thought we could just lock you in the basement, but now that I see it, I think this is better.”
“You’re a monster.” You’re crying, hard, hysterical sobs that leave your throat raw and aching. He actually has the gall to look hurt by your insult, his face crumpling as his mouth presses into a thin, angry line.
“A monster that loves you. That would do anything to protect you—even from yourself.” Your body seizes with fear as he crosses the room in a few easy strides, gripping your shoulders with furious hands. You whine as he squeezes, pressing harder and harder until you drop the scrap of wood you’re holding. You don’t know this Ransom, this maniacal, cruel man wearing your husband’s face, your husband’s ring.
“Do you remember what it was like when we got together?” He asks. Ransom shakes you a little, like he’s trying to jog your memory. “Living at home with your parents, helping them with every single bill because you were terrified your sister was going to graduate high-school on the streets—”
“So what?” You spit back. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
“I gave you everything.” For the first time you see the same possessive madness in his eyes you’d seen in Lloyd’s. “And you think you can just walk away? Take from me until you’ve gotten your fill? That’s not how this works, Sweetheart.” He releases you and you stumble away, clutching yourself. He straightens his shirt, smoothing back the errant hairs that have fallen into his face.
“We’re going to give you such a good life, Sweetheart. You just have to trust us.”
“I will never trust you again.” You growl the words at him like a threat. “I hate you.” And then, inexplicably, he’s your Ransom again, his blue eyes soft as he looks at you, like he knows something you haven’t yet come to accept. Like an adult admonishing a child for fears they’ll soon leave behind as they grow to accept the way things are—the way they always will be.
“You won’t always.” His eyes flick down to the destruction you’ve wrought, and he clucks his tongue. “Maybe I’ll talk to Lloyd about bringing in some new furniture for you, if you’re good.” Ransom’s handsome mouth curves up into an amused smile. “Maybe something a little heavier.” He kicks at a piece of the table, before making his way back over to the other side of the room. A door the same color as the wall opens at his touch.
“Lunch in an hour.”
—
True to his word Ransom returns with Lloyd in tow, a tray held in his large hands. You’d waited for this moment with a dark sort of anticipation, and for a brief moment, their stunned, angry expressions as the door panel slides open fill you with a sense of profound pride.
You’d done your level best to destroy everything that wasn’t nailed down, methodically and systematically taking apart everything you could get your hand on. Even the mattress lies ruined, feathers and wood splinters littering the torn cover. Though the mirror had refused to break—and indeed proved too heavy for you to lift—you feel a smug satisfaction in seeing what you had been able to accomplish with jagged pieces of plywood.
Fuck you.
Lloyd steps in first, squatting down to inspect a piece of the smashed coffee table.
“I told you we shouldn’t have put this stuff in here first. Empty room, Ransom. You always have to start with an empty room.” His eyes flick up to yours, and he smiles softly—affectionately. “Hi, Princess.”
“Go to hell, Lloyd.” Ransom steps fully into your room then, shutting the door gently behind him before setting the tray on the windowsill. He sighs.
“I know it was stupid to hope your attitude had improved in an hour, but stranger things have happened.” He glances back at the tray. “You should eat something, Love. It’s been four days of—” His words become a static drone as the panic begins to set in. Four days? I’ve been out for four days? The questions fill your head almost faster than you can process them. Where are you? Your parents, your sister? What happened?
“What is this? What is this fucking place?”
The pride in Ransom’s eyes makes you want to vomit. “We made it for you. Just for you. It took—how long, Lloyd?”
“A year, give or take.” He rubs his fingers along the growing stubble on his upper lip. “And then finding staff…” He pauses. “The hotel, or just the Room?” The way Lloyd says room makes it sound singular, important. You cannot help but gape at them
“You’re sick—both of you. Y-you—what you did to me—” You shake your head. “A-all of this.” You gesture at the room around you. “For what?” Lloyd threads his fingers together, and you can hear the soft metal click of his rings tapping against each other as he does.
“I know you’re not deaf, Princess. It’s for you.”
Cold trickles down your spine. You’ve been doing it ever since you woke up, running through each moment in the past four, five and cataloguing each one you couldn’t make make sense. You’re doing it again now, thumbing back through the index cards of your memories and finding empty slots. Thanksgivings, Christmases, Easters—Ransom had told you it had been a year, but you can’t trust that, you can’t believe him, not after everything.
“My family won’t let you do this sick fucking shit, you know that.” You spit. “They’re not going to let you kidnap me—”
“How much is Nathalie’s school, Sweetheart?” Ransom asks, cocking his head. “Per year.”
“What?” The question throws you off, the freight train of words in your throat piling up messily on your tongue. “What are you—”
“How much is her tuition?” He repeats it slowly like you’re having trouble understanding him. You bare your teeth at Ransom as you grimace.
“I don’t know. She has a scholarship. What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
“It’s $63,000.” Ransom gives you the figure so matter-of-factly it’s like he rehearsed it. “Per year.” Your stomach sinks, like your body knows before your head. “What, you didn’t know? No one ever reads the paperwork, do they, Lloyd?” He glances at his brother over his shoulder. “What’s it say on the checks? T. H. B. Inc., doesn’t it?” He licks his lips. “The T stands for Thrombey, Sweetheart.”
You almost want to laugh for the insanity of it all—you even try, but no sound escapes your tight, dry throat. Lloyd nods.
“Same as the ones your father gets. Funny how his company’s picked up these last few years, isn’t it?”
Your fists clench and unclench as you sit there on the floor, staring up at them. There’s nothing left to destroy, nothing left to break except the two of them—and you already know how that ends. Instead, you’re forced to sit there, hot rage coiling in your chest as the realization dawns cold and cutting—
Your family is already bought and paid for, even if they don’t know it.
“I never asked you for this.” You spit, nails biting into the meat of your palms as you press angry fists against the cool tile. “I didn’t ask you for fucking any of this!”
“I promised to make a home for you, didn’t I, Sweetheart?” He squats down in front of you, his hand out like he wants you to take it. “A good husband provides.” It isn’t supposed to feel like being cut into a thousand pieces to hear his wedding vows regurgitated like this. His gaze drops to the ring still on your finger. You hadn’t noticed it until he did, and as he watches, you rip it from your finger with a violent twist, and throw it at him. He actually looks upset at this, a hint of his earlier rage passing over his features like a cloud.
You hate the way it makes your gut wrench because you want him to fucking hurt. It’s like your body hasn’t realized yet just who he is—who they are, and it makes you even angrier. You turn away, loose nightgown bunching under your thighs as you turn to face the wall instead.
“Leave me alone.”
“Not until you eat something.” You aren’t sure if it’s Ransom that speaks, or Lloyd. You press your eyes shut and bite your lips to shutter the angry, frustrated wail that threatens to leap from your throat. “That’s not good for the baby.”
Good for the baby.
Good for the baby.
Good for the fucking baby.
You want to hate it now; the child growing inside of you, even if only to spite the men standing behind you. But you cannot bring yourself to—and you hate that too.
Shame is not a new feeling, not for you, but it feels new today as you pick apart the plain chicken salad sandwich they had brought for you. Assume it’s drugged. You hate yourself as you tear off chunks with stiff fingers, forcing your mouth open and swallowing it down with a grimace. Assume everything is drugged. When you’re finished, you drag the back of your hand across your mouth roughly, tossing the tray at Lloyd’s feet.
He doesn’t pick it up.
“Good girl.” You shiver. It’s involuntary, and you know he sees it, the way his mouth twitches with the urge to lift into the smug smile you know so well. “Your wish is our command, Princess.”
Ransom bends to pick up the ring wordlessly, and follows his brother out of your room.
—
They don’t come back that night.
You watch the sky outside the glass wall of your prison turn dark, and then brighten again with stars as you sit huddled against it, hugging your knees to your chest. You’re exhausted, but you can’t sleep. Your body won’t let you, jerking you back to wakefulness as soon as your eyelids start to droop. The thoughts won’t stop coming either, cycling through on a loop you can’t seem to stop.
I wonder what Nat’s doing.
I wonder if they’re worried about me.
I wonder what Ransom told them.
You want to pinpoint the time your life went off the rails but you can’t, you don’t know it. College, perhaps?
When you’d met Ransom? Lloyd?
You drag yourself away from the window after a few hours of staring bleakly out at the empty beach. It feels like too much to hope for that someone would happen by, not with the lengths they had clearly taken to secure you. The comforter bleeds feathers as you drag it to the floor beside the bed, wedging yourself between it and the wall. You know you aren’t safe—you’ve little control over that—but the solid press of concrete behind you makes you feel more secure.
It’s what allows you to finally fall asleep, though it is not restful. It feels like you wake every few minutes at every imagined sound, jolting back to consciousness and scanning the still empty room before quickly passing out again. You half expect Lloyd and Ransom to be back, waiting for you to open your eyes but when you finally do, you are still blessedly alone, but for the fresh tray in front of the door.
You wait for a few minutes, just to see if they emerge from your peripheral vision, the places in the room you can’t see from your vantage point—but they don’t. Everything is as it was before, the destruction from your earlier rampage still strewn across the floor. It feels surreal. Slowly, you pick your way across the debris and grasp the tray in your trembling hands. You don’t want to eat it, not really, but your stomach clenches and rumbles at the sight of food as you peek beneath the tray cover.
It isn’t anything special—another sandwich, a bag of chips, and a bottle of water. You check beneath the styrofoam plate just to be sure, there’s no note, no nothing, and you cannot help but wonder when they’ll be back. They’re messing with your head, you know they are—and you hate that it’s working. You’re rattled, upset, anxious—just how they want you.
The urge comes again to pick up the largest piece of anything you can find and smash it against the window until it breaks.
We made it for you.
Your stomach churns with disgust even as you take a greedy bite out of your sandwich. How hadn’t you seen yourself and your family waltzing right into the palms of their hands? How hadn’t you noticed? Lloyd had always been overly interested, overly gracious, even after you’d rejected him, and started dating his brother. You’re reminded of Linda’s curt smile and her slickly delivered barb. You tore them apart without even thinking about it. And Lloyd’s admission…
It was more than a little crush.
You don’t know how to reconcile the madness simmering behind your husbands eyes with the man who’d held your hands and said his vows. As he’d griped your wrists, staring into your eyes with his own fever-bright, you could barely recognize him.
You clean your plate, washing it down with the water before casting another look around the room. It’s blank, empty beyond the few pieces of furniture you hadn’t been able to destroy. No books, no television—nothing. You search the walls near the door panel, looking for something, anything that might make it open, but you find little. The smooth white keyboard does not respond when you push your thumb against the rubbery buttons, and the seam is so narrow you can barely wedge your fingernails into it to try and pry it open.
For hours you walk the perimeter of the room, running your hands along the walls, feeling no breaks in the smooth, cool surface. You have to get out of here—but you don’t even know where here is. How far you are from the resort, if you’re even on the same island. As the room darkens, you realize you’ve been pacing for hours like a caged animal, and neither Ransom nor Lloyd has come to check on you all day. Somehow, the thought fill you with apprehension. Not knowing when they might appear is unnerving, and you suspect they mean it to be.
You thread your fingers through your hair, tugging on it as you watch the sun sink into the sea, a panicked, claustrophobic feeling rising in your chest until you realize you aren’t breathing. You can’t stay here like this, you can’t—
Before you realize it you’re running for the door, beating your fists wildly against the panel.
“Let me out! Let me the fuck out of here!” Your frenzied wailing rings in your own ears. It’s like you’re numb to the pain as you swing with all your might. You’re aware-even if only dimly—of the fact that your fists will be sore and aching later, bruised and beat to a pulp but you don’t care. Not if it gets you out—not if it gets you away from them.
“Ransom! Ransom let me out! You can’t fucking keep me here! You can’t!”
Nothing happens. The door doesn’t budge, and there is no answer to your increasingly panicked demands. You scream for hours. Until you’re hoarse, and your trembling fists ache to raise above your shoulders. Still, you bang your open palms against the panel as your firm insistence becomes a stream of nonsense pleas.
“Please, please don’t do this, if you l-loved me y-you wouldn’t do this!” Tears and snot run down your face as you collapse to your knees, exhausted. “Please.” You mumble, curling in on yourself in front of the door. The tears come again, and you don’t even try to stop them, sobbing open-mouthed on the cold tile, your hands fisting in your nightgown.
“Please.”
You lay there until the room goes dark.
—
“I hate seeing her like this.” The cameras are good—too good. He can see the pain on your face too clearly, hear the betrayal in your voice just a bit too well through the speakers.
“You think I like it?” Lloyd asks irritatedly, and Ransom sighs. “She’ll even out soon. If not, you can up the mood stabilizer. She’s cleared for it until the second trimester.” Ransom knows his brother, knows that’s his version of comforting reassurance. “Besides, you’re the one that decided to play keep-away.”
Ransom looks at the camera again, at your softly moving shoulders. He’s both thankful and irritated at the hair covering your pretty face—but at least it blocks the sight of your tears. As he watches, you shudder—like you’re still crying, even in your sleep.
“I know. We have to make her grateful. For us.” He says, still looking at the screen. And he does. He understands the necessity of it—it was his plan, almost more than Lloyd’s. “I still hate it.”
“I don’t anticipate she’ll keep it up more than a week. Two, tops.” For the most part, Ransom has seldom ever found himself envious of his twin, but now he felt his lip curl with irritated jealousy at Lloyd’s confidence. “Don’t worry little brother,” he grins. “Our Princess will love us again.” He turns back to the cameras. “I’m sure of it.”
To be continued…
next chapter
Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️
#chris evans fic#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans#cevans#cevans fandom#ransom drysdale#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom drysdale x you#ransom drysdale x female reader#dark ransom drysdale#dark!ransom drysdale#Lloyd Hansen#Lloyd hansen x you#lloyd hansen x reader#lloyd hansen x y/n#lloyd hansen imagine#ransom drysdale imagine#ransom drysdale smut#lloyd hansen smut#dark!fic#darkfic#dubcon#boxofbonesfic#doppelganger fic
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Chris and Reader public sex maybe? Bonus points if they get caught👀
~
Deep moans fall from both Chris’s and YN’s lips as he slips inside her from behind, bottoming out in one smooth thrust. Almost immediately he has to drop his head onto her shoulder, feeling his cock already start to twitch inside of her. She’s watching him closely in the mirror, smirk forming on her face at how gone he is already.
“No, fuck,” he whines, squeezing his eyes shut as she moves her hips against him, teasing him. “Already fuckin’ ruining me, give me a minute,” he breathes, his Boston accent getting thicker as he strains to stave off his orgasm. Hands tight on her hips, he holds her still as she continues torturing him, and he’s considering just pulling out and cumming on her ass and leaving her to finish herself off as punishment but she feels to fucking good to leave right now.
“The whole point of a quickie is that we’re quick, I don’t care if you don’t last just fuck me,” she rushes, her brattiness pissing Chris off and making him even more gone for her all at the same time. She presses her hands onto the sink in front of her and tries to use it as leverage to fuck herself on his cock, smiling to herself when he chokes on another moan.
He’s had enough, gathering his bearings before removing one hand from her hip to bring it to her neck, pulling her upper body to him. His lips are right next to her ear as he pulls out slowly just to slam into her with so much force that a surprised moan falls from her lips and her hands flail to grip the counter tighter.
A dark hum rumbles deep in his chest as he repeats the action, gauging her reaction. “I think you forgot who’s in charge here,” he teases, applying pressure on either side of her neck with his one hand.
Her eyes have already taken purchase in the back of her head, her mouth wide open as he picks up his pace, the leaking head of his cock ramming her g spot with each thrust. She’s unable to form a single thought, the only thing occupying her mind is the feeling of him fucking her so perfectly, managing to render her speechless in mere seconds.
“Look at that,” he coos condescendingly, not letting up on his thrusts. “All that talk and now you’re all cockdrunk for me. Dumb little baby just needed to be put in her place, hm?” he teases, now using his grip on her throat as leverage to fuck her deeper. The sound of skin slapping fills the restroom and they’re both certain that they can be heard from outside but Chris doesn’t care, his thrusts unrelenting.
Her moans increase tenfold when he manages to graze her cervix, her legs starting to shake beneath her as her orgasm builds deep in her belly. It’s like a third sense to him at this point, and he lets go of her throat just to press her face into the cool counter in front of her, once again using both hands on her hips as leverage. His thrusts get much harder as he knows that is what will get her there, and he’s just watching where they’re connected, her wetness starting to drip down the both of their thighs.
“That’s it, princess. Take my cock just like you were made to,” he grits, his thrusts getting sloppy as his orgasm approaches once again. “Cum for me, and I’ll give you what you need,” just then there’s a loud knock on the bathroom door, angry swears following the sound.
YN makes an effort to have at least some remorse and quiet down but it’s so hard when he melts all thoughts in her brain. She’s about to tell him to give up and they can finish at home when he doubles his efforts, seemingly reading her mind. “Uh uh. You’re almost there, and I’m not stopping until you soak my fuckin’ cock. You can do it, just cum all over my cock and I’ll fill you up,” he encourages. It’s like a switch flips in her mind, and she’s immediately taking advantage of her permission to cum, her tight channel locking down onto his cock and keeping him inside her as she cums with a loud cry of his name.
Neither of them are surprised when they hear liquid dripping onto the floor as the result, her cum dripping down her legs and even into her shoes. She’s honestly quite embarrassed that he can ruin her this way, but the thoughts are overpowered by the fog that’s filled her brain. He can feel the evidence of her orgasm dripping onto his fancy shoes as she overloads his senses and he can’t hold his off any longer. He cums with an animalistic groan, filling her to the brim with his orgasm and warming her from the inside.
The knocking continues, the person on the other side of the door threatening to call the police if they don’t come out right now. Once again, he ignores them, holding her close to him as she twitches with the aftershocks of such an intense orgasm. When she’s all settled he pulls out gently, and he can see his cum stating to drip out of her. He can’t resist spreading her a little bit further and squatting down to be eye level with her sensitive pussy.
A bold lick between her swollen lips makes her whine in overstimulation but she doesn’t move away, she stays put until he’s had his fill, and then he’s standing up to grab some paper towels to clean her legs, leaving the mess on the floor. He adjusts her dress and fixes his clothes as best he can before they’re walking out of the bathroom.
The look on Chris’s face is nothing short of smug as they exit, making direct eye contact with who he assumes is the man who’d been banging on the door, and by the disgusted look on his face he knew it was. He lets YN walk a little ahead of him as he stops to look the man in the eye. “Might want to get someone in there to clean that up,” he tells him, watching in amusement as his face falls at the meaning of his words.
~
#harry styles fic rec#harry styles smut#harryistheonlyoneforme#smut#harry styles fic#harry styles filth#dbf harry styles#harry styles#harry related writings#dbf harry#chris evans fandom#cevans smut#cevans#cevans fandom#cevans fanfic#cevansfanfiction#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans#chris evans smut
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One shot.
Chris comes back from a month long of working on a movie set and he gives you gifts...and an extra cute one.
Paring: Chris Evans X Girlfriend Reader
Warnings: None!
Thanks my best friend @nicoline1998enilocin for asking for this idea!
A month..it's been a whole month since Chris went to Rome for work..and you miss him so badly.
Facetimes and calls and even texts can't replace being his arms but then chris texted you.
Prince Chris: Just landed Princess 💓
Princess Y/N: Can't wait to see you my bf! I miss u so much!
Prince Chris: I miss you too my princess.
An hour later Chris walks into your shared home. "princess you here?" You walk downstairs and run into his arms holding him close as you can. "Aww Princess"
He wraps his arms around you lifting you slightly off the ground.
Dodger barks and jumps up on you two. "Whoa buddy" Chris kneels by his dog and dodger jumps around and barks.
Chris stands up and looks at you. "Aw Princess are you crying?" You wipe away your happy tears. "No..."
he smiles and holds the thing of flowers to you. 'Then these are for you" You take them and say. 'Aw Chris my favorite flowers"
Chris smiles. "I have a few more gifts but i want to save them for later."
You look up at him and wrap your arms around his waist. "Good cus i just want to be with you that is the best gift for me"
Chris kisses you and says. "You'll love the last gift for sure" You giggle. "such a fucking tease prince Evans'
"only to my princess"
over the next few days you and chris stay home he works on meetings but always makes time for you.
You and him are on the couch when chris pulls out a box. 'This is your other gift"
You take the box and open it. you see a heart necklace.
"Chris this looks amazing..you didn't have to" You look at him and he says. "I can't spoil my princess?"
You smile and he puts it on. "yes you can but it must have be not cheap chris" You look at him and he kisses your cheek. "your worth it"
You smile. "I say this so much but I love you" Chris smiles 'I love hearing you say that so i don't mind i love you more"
You and chris go to a Photoshoot he is in and you snap a pic of him.
Not my pic but i had to use it cus whoever made this made it cute!!
Chris looks at you. "Princess did you take a pic?" You giggle nodding. "what if i did prince Evans?"
He smiles and says to someone. "one sec"
He hops off the stool and wraps his arms around you and kisses you all over your face. "hehe Chris!"
Chris says. "what am i going to do with ya?" You smile. "hmm i can think of many things"
the next day your making breakfast when chris walks in and smiles at you humming a disney song. "morning princess" You jump and place your hand on your chest. "Christ! Evans oh my god i almost shit myself"
He laughs and kisses you. "sorry princess, oh are you free this evening?"
"I think so, why do you ask?" He grabs some coffee. 'I have something for you" You smirk. "Oh? is this cute or dirty?" Chris smiles. 'cute princess"
You nod. "okay yea i'll be free tonight" Chris kisses you once more. "great" he walks into the his office and gets to work.
later that night. Chris says. 'princess come on we'll be late" You walk downstairs in this dress.
"Wow y/n you look even more like my princess" You smile and takes his hand. "thank you my prince it is too much for where we are going?" he smiles. "no it's perfect'
You two take a drive to a park and chris says. "so after our dinner i have a surprise for you"
You look at him. "Chris you have done so many gifts.." he leans forwards. "Last one i promise" He kisses you.
After dinner you and chris go for a walk and he says. "Close your eyes princess." You blink. "Oh god fine" he holds your hands and leads you to this.
"Keep them closed princess" You giggle. "Chris come on im getting anxious now" he stands in front of you and gets on one knee.
"Okay open your eyes" You do and you see the sign and gasp and look at chris. "Oh god"
He says. "Y/N L/N i love you, I have loved you sicne we first met two years ago, i love your love for dodger and friends and even our families, You are my girl i am on one knee today to ask you if you'll take this ring and become my queen, y/n Will you marry me?"
You nod unable to speak. He smiles and slips the ring on and stands up and hugs you. You hug him back lightly crying happy tears. He pulls away and says. "Princess hey sh don't worry"
You laugh. "it's happy...tears" he hugs you again. "I love you my queen" You close your eyes taking his scent and embrace in.
Bye now im crying cus this was cuter than i thought it would be!! 🥹
taglist. @nicoline1998enilocin @cutedisneygrl @k-slla @armystay89 @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @katherineswritingsblog
#chris evans imagines#chris evans x female reader#chris evans x reader#chris evans x y/n#chris evans x yn#chris evans x reader fluff#chris evans x you#cevans#chris evans fandom#chris evans oneshot#chris evans one shot#chris evans imagine#chris evans headcanon#chris evans fluff#chris evans fic#chris evans drabble#chris evans cute
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Thinking about Author! Ransom and touch starved! female! reader.
Minors DNI! 18+
this is a little concept inspired by my recent moodboard and based on the wip i currently have in my google docs.
requests are open!
You don’t really like being apart from your boyfriend. You hate it. But Ransom likes to be alone when he’s working. He’s grumpy and snaps at you occasionally if you interrupt him or step into his office. But one night when he’s fighting a bad bout of writer’s block, you decide to come in when you hear him shouting.
His eyes flick upward when he sees you in the doorway, your brows both knitted together in concern. Wide, doe eyes staring at him from across the room. You slowly walk over to him. Usually he’d yell at you to get out already but he’s too entranced by you. The way your full length, silk nightgown is hugging your curves, the way your curly hair is cascading over your shoulders, paired with the fur coat you have draped over your arms. You're stunning.
And before he knows it, you’re striding across the room, wrapping your arms around his neck from behind the chair. “Baby, you’ve been at this all night. Come to bed, please.” You coo in his ear. Ransom let’s a sigh escape past his parted lips. “I can’t, babygirl. I have a deadline. You know that.” He’s stubborn, he always has been. And you know how important his writing is to him but you’re not giving up yet. You've been waiting for hours while he typed on his computer for hours. You even tried pleasuring yourself to the thought of him. But it's not the same. You need him. You want him!
“I know, baby. But I miss you— I need you. Just take a short break, please? For me?” You plead, hoping, praying he’ll give in and when he doesn’t answer, your hands trail down his chest, your nose nuzzling into the crook of his neck, inhaling the woodsy scent from his cologne, lips brushing the side of his neck.
“Ransom, I need you.” You beg, one hand inching closer to his belt buckle. And before you can move another inch, he snatches your wrist. At first it takes you by surprise, a gasp leaving your lips as he spins around in his chair. Ransom smirks at your shocked expression. “You’re a persistent little thing, aren’t you?” Still grabbing hold of your wrist, he pulls you down onto his lap, one arm snaking around your waist, holding you in place.
While the other glides down your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “You think you can just waltz in here and I’m gonna give you what you want? Hm?”
“Ransom, please—?” He interrupts you, cupping your mouth with his palm. His other arm still holding you against him, his growing bulge pressed against your ass. “You feel that? That’s all me, babygirl.” You clench your thighs together, a familiar honeyed heat pooling in your lower belly. Ransom grins when you don't answer. “Here’s what’s going to happen; you’re going to do what I say, and if you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll give you what you want.”
#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom drysdale x y/n#ransom drysdale x you#knives out#chris evans#ransom drysdale drabble.#my writing#drabbles.#concepts.#ransom drysdale brainrot#cevans fandom#chris evans characters#byeeee#i need to take a cold shower after writing this#ransom drysdale blurbs
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Same vibes, twenty years later.
Judd / The Newcomers (2000)
Andy Barber / Defending Jacob - Ep. 1x03 (2020)
#chris evans#young chris evans#chris evans characters#judd#andy barber#the newcomers#defending jacob#movies#tv series#same vibes#gif maker#gif making#fangirl#fandom#cevans
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Friendly reminder to tell us all:
He is a grown-up adult
He can make his own decisions
He would have to face the consequences of his decisions when or if turns bad for his personal life or career as the grown-up adult he is.
I'm not here to tell you what to do, I’m just highlighting the facts.
Personally, I'll keep supporting his work because it's what I know him for and what I like. Even if I find him attractive as a man, that's the only part of his life I really know.
And, he will always be my eye candy to go and will always be in the movies that give me the shoots of serotonin that my brain needs 🙃
I love it here on Tumblr.
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