#chris evans character au
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Summary: Lloyd delays telling Princess about her stalker’s identity. Vivian has a medical appointment, which leads to an episode of babysitting where Lloyd bonds with a three-year-old. Meanwhile, an unexpected event kicks the serial killer investigation into high gear.
Masterlist
Word Count: 6,866
Warnings: Smut, erotica level explicitness, impact play (Lloyd spanks Princess), and semi-rough sex. Criminal activity including stalking, kidnapping, and murder. Mention of child abandonment and dysfunctional family dynamics.
Chapter 22
From your perch on a barstool, you watched Lloyd stir a pot on the stove. He wore a snug pair of boxer briefs and nothing else. You decided this was your favorite look on him. Lloyd glanced over his shoulder and caught you staring. He smirked.
“See something you like, Princess?”
“Mmmhh. You’re like a real life Calvin Klein model, and you’re cooking me dinner.”
Lloyd snorted. “Their current poster boy is what, twenty-one?”
“I don’t know. Calvin Klein models were more of a middle school fantasy for me.”
“Which models, specifically?” he asked.
“The ones featured during the South African World Cup. The internet was plastered with their photos. You don’t remember?”
“Twelve years ago I was in Afghanistan. They don’t allow underwear commercials.”
“Well, I can’t remember his name, but he was a Danish soccer player, who was like three times my age.”
“You were drooling over thirty-six-year-old men when you were twelve?”
“What? He had really great abs.”
Lloyd shook his head, returning his attention to the pot of soup simmering on the stove.
“They were inescapable, and I had a lot of hormones, okay? All those delicious muscles slathered in baby oil was my sexual awakening.”
“Once you hit thirty, you’ll feel more comfortable thinking about sexual awakenings happening around the age of sixteen, or even better, seventeen.”
You laughed. “That’s not reality.”
He flicked off the burner and winked. “Once you eat something, let’s talk about these soccer player fantasies. I want details.”
“Don’t get your hopes up - I wasn’t old enough to fill in the details. Now, my highschool fantasies? Those are worth talking about.”
Lloyd caught you around the waist and pulled you into his lap when you moved to sit down at the dining room table. You giggled when his hands snuck under the hem of the button down dress shirt you wore, exploring the bare skin he found there.
“No panties?”
“Your dress shirt was all I could find. Someone must have stolen my clothes.”
“What a tragedy,” Lloyd murmured, nuzzling your cheek.
You giggled when his mustache tickled your neck. He kissed along your throat and across your jaw and chin, before finding your lips.
“First we eat, then you tell me everything,” he said.
Eating in Lloyd’s lap was surprisingly comfortable. He didn’t insist on feeding you and didn’t mind when you stole the spoon for yourself. After consuming half of the bowl, you handed it back to him and curled against him while he finished the dish. You sighed, content.
“See, this is even better than my fantasies. You can actually cook-”
“This hardly counts, it’s just soup.”
You ignored him, continuing, “-and you have chest hair. I didn’t know there was such a thing as a chest hair kink, but I definitely have one.”
Lloyd groaned as you traced the whorl pattern of hair on his right pectoral.
“Plus, you’re warm.”
“You’ll be all over me this winter, won’t you?” he said.
“Arm candy, bed warmer, and he’s smart? You really are the whole package, aren’t you?”
You stroked a zigzag pattern through the dark brown hairs of his happy trail just above the waistband of his boxers.
“Princess… you’re playing with fire.”
You smirked at his gravelly voice. “No, I’m not. You already turned off the stove.”
He grunted when you straddled him. The position put your breasts at the same height as his mouth. Lloyd nuzzled their upper swells as you sank your finger into his hair, petting the short strands at the back of his neck.
Lloyd unbuttoned your dress shirt and examined your breasts.
“Still sore?”
“They’re definitely tender.”
He rubbed one and you hissed.
“Yeah, that’s going to sting for a while,” he said.
“It’s not a bad sore, just kind of… raw?”
“Well, I did promise you raw nipples, didn’t I?”
“And a sore ass.”
Lloyd glanced up through his lashes. “I’m glad you brought that up, Princess. It reminds me… I only delivered on half of my promise.”
“Huh?”
“I gave you instructions, and you disobeyed me. That warrants punishment, don’t you think?”
“Lloyd, I’ve never let anyone paddle my ass, and if you think-”
He moved too fast for you to protest, manhandling you so you lay chest down, spread over his thighs. Your breasts pressed against his leg and you moaned at the pressure on your aching nipples. Tension coiled in your belly as excitement heightened your sensitivity, making the raw flesh sting.
“Lloyd!”
“Scoot up. I suggest you cooperate because if I don’t spank you, I’m going to have to come up with another punishment. I have a few ideas…”
The butt plug and lube in his nightstand drawer flashed through your head. You scooted forward.
“Good girl, so obedient. I think you want to be punished, don’t you?”
You whimpered at his velvety voice. “Y-yes…”
Lloyd ran a calloused hand over the back of your thighs. “I’ve been thinking of smacking this pretty ass for a long time, Princess.”
That piqued your interest. “How long?”
“Too long,” he said, caressing your bottom.
“The first day you met me?”
“The second day. That pencil skirt, the one that goes past your knees? It’s blue and tight.”
You suddenly regretted donating that skirt last year during a closet declutter, even if it was a size too small.
“On the day you gave me your first research file, that’s what you wore. I still can’t forget how good your ass looked as you walked away. Last chance to back out, Princess.”
You squirmed, but didn’t object.
Lloyd grunted. “Princess, use your words.”
“I don’t think you have the guts to-”
His palm cracked on your left ass cheek. You gasped, stunned by the blow. He slapped the other side with the same force and you cried out. He pinched the fleshy part of your inner thighs between his thumb and forefinger, hard, eliciting a yelp.
“Don’t hold your breath. If you do, you’ll pass out,” Lloyd said.
Then his palm cracked against your skin. The sides alternated: left cheek, right, left, left, right…
“Lloyd!”
You surged up, only to have his forearm shoved into the small of your back, pinning you down.
“Arch your back, Princess. Keep your ass in the air, practice makes perfect.”
“Ow, Lloyd! That hurts!”
“It’s supposed to. You can’t follow instructions, then you pay the price, my naughty… little… fucktoy,” he hissed, punctuating the last three words with a smack.
Your back arched.
“Please! Fucking hell, Lloyd! Damn it, oh!”
You struggled to get enough leverage to escape, but he was too strong.
“Next time you’ll arch your back just like this, won’t you? You’ll be a good girl and keep your chest down and your ass up, huh?”
“Gaaahhh!” you screamed when he peppered a series of blows on a spot that was already aching.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…! Lloyd, please!”
He wasn’t holding back and despite the pain, his spanking was having the strangest effect on your body. It was turning you on. Your protests were born from shock and confusion, because you hadn’t expected this to hurt so much. The pain was the shocking part; the confusing part was that you hadn’t dreamed it would feel so good.
Yet, your toes were curling and your legs stiffened with each stinging swat. Every strike aroused you further. The harsher the sting of his hand, the sweeter the pleasure in your pussy. It was like the sting traveled through you, racing through nerves and transferring the heat of burning slaps on your skin to the inferno deep in your core. Your pussy was throbbing with a fire that was more intense than pain. Then his next blow triggered a cry that had nothing to do with discomfort.
Your thighs flexed and your toes curled as your shriek tapered off into a needy, hungry sound.
“Oh, fuck… Lloyd…”
You whimpered and rocked against his thigh, groaning at the overwhelming rush of pleasure, mingled with pain.
Lloyd cooed. “That’s my girl. Your pussy’s dripping down my leg.”
Your nipples tingled, still raw from their earlier treatment. You were panting and shivering, sweat trickling down your neck. He switched hands, and you squealed at the next barrage of unrelenting slaps. The line between what was pleasure and what was pain ceased to exist. You were acutely aware of the pulsating heat in your nipples and the hardness of Lloyd’s cock pressing against your belly.
The feelings his spanking elicited now were sharp and hot, causing your moans to drop into a lower register as you rocked back to meet each blow. Slowly, he eased into a gentler pace, delivering milder smacks.
Your chest was heaving as darkness danced on the edge of your vision.
“Breathe, Princess.”
You gasped.
“That’s it, good girl.”
His fingers brushed your sex, and you wailed, shuddering at the intensity of the sensation. Your back arched when he stroked your abused skin. The gentle caress made you keen.
Lloyd hauled you upright, turning you so your back pressed against his chest. Without his support you’d have slid to the floor. Your body buzzed with an urgent need and you mewled as he gently palmed your breasts.
You moaned, caught in the grip of a sensation somewhere between pain and immense pleasure.
“There, there, Princess. You’re okay. Next time, what are you going to do? Hmm?”
“Keep… my ass… up,” you sniffed, fighting back tears.
He rubbed the backs of his knuckles against the side of your breasts. “You’ll keep your ass up, and?”
“Chest down,” you whispered.
“That’s a good girl. We’ll try again when your nipples aren’t sore and you can show me what an obedient little fucktoy you are.”
You whined, thighs clenching. Tears were falling and your ass stung but you were so turned on that the pleasure was acutely uncomfortable. Lloyd’s hands drifted from your breasts to roam your body, tracing your waist, belly, and hips. He skimmed your thighs, tugging them apart until you spread them wide, giving him unrestricted access. His fingers dipped into your sex.
“Aw, fucking hell. That pussy’s drenched for me. I knew you’d like your spanking, naughty girls always do.”
He pinched your tender nipple, and you keened, tipping into a state of delirium. Your head fell back against his shoulder as your body went lax. Lloyd murmured something approving, but the words were lost in the buzz of euphoria that echoed in your ears. You couldn’t stop trembling.
Lloyd’s fingers breached your cunt, probing your g-spot.
“Yeah, gush all over my fingers. That’s my Princess, so fucking responsive. You’re spent, but this creamy little pussy just can’t get enough, can it? She’s throbbing. I bet it aches worse than your ass.”
He used his free hand to tease your clit, and you bucked, sobbing from the intense pleasure. You grasped his wrist to ease the friction and Lloyd snarled.
“Cut that out, or I’ll put you over my knee again.”
He spread your pussy open and stroked your entrance, collecting juices and swirling them over your clit.
“Come on my fingers, Princess.”
After issuing the command, he worked your clit hard. Within seconds you jackknifed from a lightning flash of pleasure that almost made you surge out of his arms. Lloyd nipped at your neck and the unexpected sensation made you shudder. His teeth sank into your skin as your body rolled with waves of ecstasy.
When you came down from the high, you felt the hardness under your thigh and squirmed. Lloyd allowed you to slide off his lap but caught your hips to steady you when your knees wobbled. After taking a second to get your bearings, you turned to face Lloyd, then sank to your knees between his legs.
Surprise flickered in his eyes but he lifted his hips, cooperating as you pulled down his boxers. The thick, ruddy cock sprang free, and you grasped it by the base, then licked at its weeping head. Lloyd groaned, shoving himself past your lips in a silent demand. You accepted him eagerly, wiggling your tongue against the underside of his cock.
“Yeah, just like that…”
He guided your head, showing you the tempo he preferred, then let go once you’d adopted the pace.
“Harder,” he murmured, voice rough with arousal.
You hollowed your cheeks and gripped him tighter. He hadn’t tried to push into your throat, which only made you more excited to perform the act. Relaxing your jaw, you inhaled through your nose and took him as deep as you could.
Lloyd gasped. His cock twitched in your throat, and you swallowed reflexively, moaning. When you couldn’t hold the position anymore, you pulled back, gagging. After another deep breath, you braced your hands on his thighs and repeated the maneuver. He was restrained, and that emboldened you to swallow harder, pushing yourself out of your comfort zone. You kept your hands on his thighs out of caution, aware that his good behavior might end at any moment.
The self-protection didn’t prove necessary. Going down on Lloyd was fun. He wasn’t pushy, and he was vocal about his pleasure. The slurred praise he offered when you took him deep made you quiver with excitement. When your jaw needed a break, you ran your tongue over his balls, laving the swollen sac and basking in the rough, male noises that rewarded your efforts.
You chipped in surprise when Lloyd hauled you to your feet. He jerked you onto his lap, cupping your ass while he aligned your bodies. His thick erection grazed your clit. The sensation was so intense that you jerked away. Lloyd growled, hauling you back down.
“Come on, relax for me, Princess. I know you’re desperate to be filled.”
He was right. Sucking him off had triggered a fresh wave of arousal that had fire licking at your core. Lloyd captured one of your battered nipples in his mouth and sucked, purring when you trembled in response. He released it and caressed your hips, then stroked his palms over the tender skin of your buttocks.
“Ready, sweetheart?”
You pressed your forehead against his and whimpered as his cock probed the entrance to your pussy. “Yes… Please, fuck me.”
He thrust up hard, impaling you with a single stroke. You screamed and dug your nails into his shoulders.
“Ah, fuck! Lloyd!”
“Shh… relax. Let me in. I know, I know. This is a new angle for you, isn’t it?”
He felt huge like this. The girth was too intense and you scrambled to adjust, hooking your ankles over his knees and raising your hips. Lloyd kneaded your ass, causing a rush of pleasure and pain that flooded your pussy with juices and allowed you to sink down a little further.
You groaned, thighs quivering as you struggled to hold yourself up. You were afraid your legs would give out, and you’d be impaled again. Lloyd claimed your mouth and kissed you. HIs mouth was slow and sensual and coaxed you into relaxing. You rolled your hips and whimpered when he slid deep, brushing a spot that made you quiver. He grasped your hips and pushed them back, then drew them forward.
You gasped at the sensation.
Lloyd paused. “Too deep?”
“N-n-no… Oh, fuck…”
You squirmed and tried to mimic the maneuver. Lloyd moaned.
“Atta girl, baby. Get yourself off on my cock.”
Your hips snapped harder at his encouragement. When he sucked delicately on one of your nipples, you keened. You lost your rhythm, but it didn’t matter because Lloyd took control. He used your body’s weight to guide your hips in quick tempo, rooting himself as deep as possible with every stroke. Your legs shook violently and when the orgasm hit, you screamed, unraveling into sobs of overwhelmed pleasure.
Lloyd took advantage of the deep angle. The ripples of your channel seemed to aim his cock right at the sweet spot that made you quiver and turned your muscles to Jell-O. His thrusts became rougher and harder, and your pussy creamed. You cried, disoriented, helpless against the unrestrained response of your body. All you could do was hang on and shudder as your eyes rolled back in your head and Lloyd’s hands guided your hips through the last of the orgasm.
He hissed your name and his seed flooded your womb, triggering another orgasm that wracked your exhausted muscles. After the final burst of ecstasy, your head fell into the crook of Lloyd’s neck and he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you tight.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lloyd broke from his usual routine and silenced his alarm at 4 a.m.
He nestled against you, grateful that you were sleeping deeply, and therefore accepting of his intrusion into your side of the bed. When you were half-awake and still trying to cling to sleep you were very territorial about your personal space. He relished the victory of getting to hold you like this and pressed his forehead against the back of your neck. You slept soundly in these early hours, which sometimes allowed him to indulge in the affection he craved without disturbing you. Although he’d only intended to cuddle, he succumbed to sleep within minutes.
The buzzing of his phone woke him. Scowling at the time - it was just after six - he answered the unknown number.
“What do you want?”
“Hello, Lloyd.”
Lloyd’s nostrils flared. “Why are you calling me?”
“Is that how you greet an old friend?”
“We aren’t friends.”
“Fair point. Wait, don’t hang up. I have a new lead,” Court Gentry said.
Lloyd hesitated, his finger over the end call button.
“Go on.”
“The spy is trying to access files from B&H’s patent department. If they do, it’ll pose a threat to national security - a significant threat.”
“Then call Clayton Bishop, or the FBI - anyone but me,” Lloyd replied.
“Trust me, if I could, I would. You’re the only person I’m sure isn’t involved. The latest efforts to access the files prove this guy has hacking skills. He’s trying to exploit weaknesses in your cyber security and someone’s helping him. I know something is going down this week. I need your help.”
“No. I’m not a spy. Don’t call me again.”
Lloyd tossed the phone on the nightstand and sighed. The Chinese spy wasn’t his problem. It wasn’t even Court’s problem, but Gentry wasn’t the type to keep his nose out of other people’s business.
You murmured and rustled in the blankets, stealing the covers he’d loosened his grip on. Lloyd watched as you coiled yourself into a cocoon of blankets and wondered how you didn’t smother yourself by sleeping like that. His phone buzzed again. The sound made your lashes flutter and Lloyd rubbed your back. He was inordinately pleased when you settled immediately, your breathing evening out again.
Lloyd silenced the phone and checked his text messages.
There were three new messages, all from Jake. One had just arrived. The other two had come in around 5 a.m.
Hey. I need to upgrade the security on your guys laptops - work and personal. The stalker’s been trying to hack them. It’s mainly Princess’ work computer, but I want to cover all the bases just in case.
What time can I come over?
Lloyd? R u awake?
He responded, letting Jake know he could come over after eight, then went downstairs to make coffee.
Between the call from Court and Jake’s texts, the morning had gone sour. His anxiety was flaring back up and he was halfway through his first cup of coffee when it occurred to him that caffeine probably wasn’t the greatest idea right now. He poured the rest of his coffee down the sink and rubbed his jaw, wondering what problem to tackle first. There was the matter of telling you about Nguyen, reviewing your notes from the interview with Aliyah, catching up with Jake about the attacks on your laptops, and… Lloyd frowned.
The conversation with Court was still echoing in his head. Could the cyber attacks on your work computer have something to do with Nguyen? Did that fit the stalker’s profile? Aiden might be behind the latest attack. That would make sense… kind of.
Lloyd leaned against the counter, scowling, and wishing he hadn’t thrown the last of his coffee down the drain. Maybe Nguyen was the serial killer. Bishop still believed he was, and while Lloyd wasn’t keen on his boss’ blind faith in that theory, he suddenly wanted to take another look at Nguyen. His gut said that he’d missed something - something critical.
“Do I smell coffee?”
He turned to see you standing at the foot of the stairs, wearing his robe.
“Yeah, creamer’s in the fridge.”
Lloyd waited while you doctored your coffee and took a few sips. He’d figured out what he needed to say, but instead, he grabbed the files Landon had given him yesterday.
“Princess. We need to talk about your stalker.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
You sat at the dining table, reading the files. Each one was labeled with a name: Georgina Rochester, Aiden LeDoux, Shun Nguyen, and finally, Juan Medina.
Picking up Juan’s file, you frowned.
“What’s this?”
Lloyd cleared his throat. “We investigated all potential suspects we could think of.”
“Really? Investigating Juan would’ve involved talking to me. That never happened.”
“Given the circumstances, I can’t expect you to be impartial.”
Your gaze sharpened. “I’ve known Juan for a decade.”
“Princess, you’re too close to him to see him as a threat, and you know it.”
“And maybe you’re too far removed to see that he’s harmless. Everything in here is technically true - Juan got into bar fights and took anger management classes - but there’s more to the story.”
“Then explain it.”
“Juan’s little brother just turned twenty-one. He’s always had a bad temper and alcohol exacerbates it. Juan’s tried to keep him out of trouble but-”
“There’s no arrest record for the brother,” Lloyd interrupted.
“Not yet, but it’s only a matter of time. Juan is the complete opposite of his brother and he’d never do anything to harm his family.”
“He’s been charged with multiple misdemeanors.”
“Two nights in jail hardly makes him a hardened criminal.”
“Princess, you’re one of the most loyal people I know. You’d defend someone you love even if they were guilty.”
“Maybe I would, but the idea that Juan would hurt me is ridiculous. He’s not angry or dangerous.”
“We can’t afford to dismiss any leads,” Lloyd said.
“But this lead isn’t significant. You should’ve discussed this with me.”
“I didn’t want to put you in a position where you had to defend him.”
“The impression you get of Juan from this file is totally wrong and knowing the backstory changes everything. Letting me explain would’ve saved time and resources.”
“No, it wouldn’t have. We’re running down every lead in this case - especially after what happened two weeks ago. I’m not risking your safety on a blind spot.”
“You’re not listening to me. I know Juan and I trust him. I’m absolutely sure he isn’t the stalker.”
“I don’t even trust myself to be objective right now, Princess. Neither of us should try to unravel the stalker’s identity. If Juan made the suspect list, he’s on it until Landon decides he isn’t.”
“Then I need to talk to Landon because investigating Juan is a waste of time.”
“I’m sorry this makes you uncomfortable, but we should turn over every stone.”
“You’re being unreasonable on purpose, aren’t you?”
Lloyd’s expression softened. “I’m sorry I waited to tell you about this, but please, leave the investigating to Landon. He’ll figure it out. If Juan is as squeaky clean as you think, it won’t take long.”
You sighed, rubbing your neck. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fly off the handle. I’m just…”
Suddenly, you were on the verge of tears. Your voice cracked when you tried to speak and you buried your face in your hands.
“Hey, it’s okay.”
Lloyd stood up and moved around the table. His arms wrapped around you as he let you bury your head in his chest.
“I’m here, Princess. Everything’s going to be okay. We’ll get through this and things will go back to normal. You’re safe.”
“How can I be safe if Nguyen is in the country?”
Lloyd squeezed you. “I won’t let you out of my sight. Also, Jake’s coming over to update the security systems on the house and our computers. We’re taking every precaution and then some, okay?”
You pulled back and looked up at him, lips compressing in a grimace.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about something… Vivian has an appointment with her obstetrician. She asked me if I could watch the kids this afternoon.”
“That’s not a good idea,” Lloyd said.
“I agree, but she needs my help. If you came with me, you could search for evidence on Juan. Think of how much time that would save Landon. Can we take evasive measures and sneak over, or is it totally out of the question?”
He hesitated. “It might not be safe.”
“The last thing I want to do is put Vivian’s family at risk, but if there’s a way to make it happen…”
“Have you discussed this with Vivian?” Lloyd asked.
“I can talk to her.”
“Explain the situation and if she’s okay with it, I’ll figure something out. Just don’t say anything about Juan, please.”
You kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lloyd sat at Juan Medina’s desk in the upstairs master bedroom, preoccupied with Juan’s laptop. He kept an ear out for sounds that would warn him of an approaching toddler or the jangle of tags from the family dog, Chewy. The tan and white Cavalier King Charles spaniel had taken an instant dislike to Lloyd at first sniff, which he considered to be very insightful on the canine’s part.
The house was fairly quiet. The only sounds from downstairs were of you cleaning. He could hear the rumble of the washing machine, along with the frequent buzz of the dryer and the dishwasher. Your efficiency was unrivaled. He’d listened to the sound of you tackling a mountain of household chores while keeping the smaller toddler - the boy, Sam - occupied. Meanwhile, the three-year-old, Alyssa, had escaped to the backyard. From the window over the desk, he could see her playing in the yard.
His thorough search of Juan Medina’s laptop had yielded nothing of value. The man’s internet search history was full of hockey, nerdy online card games, and researching which fantasy novels he wanted to buy next. Judging by the bookcase, your brother-in-law’s primary hobby was reading. His offline commitments included a weekly Dungeons & Dragons meetup at the library, helping his mother with yard work, and taking the kids on monthly field trips with a local father’s group. Juan was probably pretty normal by regular standards, but to Lloyd he was the most boring person on earth. He was also envious of the man and that drove him nuts because he couldn’t pin down a reason why he felt that way.
Lloyd brushed off the feeling and closed Juan’s laptop.
Downstairs, the transformation in the family room startled him. The clutter of kid’s toys, piles of books, jackets, blankets, and empty drinking glasses had vanished. He barely recognized the room. In the kitchen, the countertops gleamed. You’d swept and mopped the floor and conquered the overflowing pile of dishes. The family room, the kitchen, the living room, it was all spotless. Even the sliding glass doors that had been covered in Chewy’s nose prints was now clean.
He noticed the basket of folded laundry by the couch and shook his head. How had you managed all this in just a few hours?
Lloyd walked out onto the deck where Sam was playing with a toy tractor. The little boy was so absorbed in his own world that he didn’t spare the man a glance when he walked by. Lloyd headed down the steps to the yard and headed to where you were crouched in the middle of the yard, looking frustrated.
“What are you doing?” Lloyd asked.
“I’m trying to fix this sprinkler head. Juan left Vivian a note to have Dad take a look, so I read a how-to article, which made it seem easy enough. I think I was lied to.”
Lloyd squatted down. “What step are you on?”
“Taking off the sprinkler head. I’m afraid if I use any more force it’ll break.”
“Do you have a screwdriver with a longer handle? You need more torque.”
You gestured to the tool box beside you. “Take your pick.”
He found the right tool and loosened the troublesome screw. Once it was free, you took over.
“It’s okay, I’ve got it.”
After knowing you for three years, he recognized the look on your face and easily handed over the sprinkler head. It was better to just get out of the way when you were on a mission. Besides, he wasn’t about to get grass stains on his freshly dry cleaned Tom Ford chinos if it wasn’t necessary. He scanned the yard, taking in Sam playing on the deck and then turning to the rock pile where Alyssa seemed to be digging a hole to China.
“What’s your niece doing?” Lloyd asked.
“Digging up rocks. Don’t ask me why, because there’s a perfectly good sandbox on top of the hill. She’s always in that rock pile.”
He left you to the sprinkler repairs and headed toward the rock pile. When he saw who was approaching, Chewy, the cocker spaniel, positioned himself between Alyssa and Lloyd. He gave the suspicious dog plenty of space and crouched down on the other side of the rock pile, leaving a large space between them to appease the dog.
“Hey, Alyssa.”
The three-year-old glanced at him, then stabbed her yellow plastic shovel into the dirt. There was a pile of stones next to her right foot. Lloyd watched as she sorted them, examining each before keeping it or tossing it back into the pit. He spotted one he recognized in front of him and picked it up.
“Do you know what this is?” he asked Alyssa.
She stopped digging and examined the rock he held out for a moment before shaking her head.
“See how smooth it is?” Lloyd scraped his thumb over the surface. “When you can scratch a rock with just your fingernail, that means it’s soft. The color and shape are also big clues.”
The little girl looked at him expectantly.
“It’s slate,” Lloyd said.
She held her hand out, and Lloyd dropped it into her palm. He watched as she searched her red bucket and then handed him two more rocks. Lloyd examined them.
“Yeah, these are slate, too.”
Alyssa dug into the bucket again. She paused, as if something had just occurred to her, and extended her hand and wiggled her fingers at him. He passed back the two pieces of slate she’d given him, and the one he’d picked up. She placed them carefully into the red bucket before offering him another rock.
Lloyd studied the specimen, hiding his grin. When he realized what she’d handed him he raised an eyebrow.
“This is agate. Sometimes people make jewelry out of these.”
Alyssa continued to pass him different rocks, though she only allowed him to handle one at a time. She was like a strict librarian who only allowed single book check outs and enforced the return policy with the zeal of a Mutaween. He identified limestone, quartzite, agates, and several pieces of granite for her.
“Which ones are your favorite?” Lloyd asked.
She reached under a dense fern and pulled out an old Folgers coffee container. It surprised him when she took off the lid and handed it over. Lloyd inspected the contents. There was a chip of Mica, easily identifiable by its flakey structure and pearlescent shine. Several of the greenish rocks looked like Sandstone, though one of them had the striations characteristic of Gneiss. Looking at the collection, he realized that Alyssa’s criteria for special rocks focused on color and shininess. At the bottom there was a gray rock with a dusting that looked like blue powder.
He rubbed it with his thumb and inspected it in the light. Chrysocolla or Amazonite?
“This is an impressive collection,” he said.
Alyssa reached under the fern and dug around, searching for something and brushed it off before passing it to him. At first he thought it was just a piece of limestone, but when he flipped it over, there was a clear impression on the other side.
“Wow. This is a cool fossil.”
It looked like a prehistoric crustacean, with lots of ridges and segments in the stone that showed the shape and structure of the animal’s body.
“Is this why you’re digging over here?” Lloyd asked.
The plastic yellow shovel she was using made sense, considering the fossil. He handed it back and watched as she packed the rocks into the Folgers container.
“Why don’t you pick a few rocks to take inside? You could display them on your windowsill or something,” Lloyd said.
Her lips pursed as she considered him, then glanced over her shoulder at you. Lloyd followed her gaze to where you were filling in the hole around the sprinkler head.
“Hey, Princess. Have you seen the fossil Alyssa found?”
At his announcement, Alyssa hissed, shoving the red plastic container underneath the fern. She glared furiously at Lloyd and grabbed the spaniel’s collar. He watched as she stalked across the yard to the deck, dragging Chewy along with her. Lloyd realized he’d committed a betrayal of great magnitude but wasn’t sure how.
When you’d finished with the sprinkler system, he asked.
“Why is Alyssa so protective of her rocks?”
“What rocks?”
“She collects rocks. She’s got a good eye for it too, but I guess she doesn’t like sharing them.”
“Oh, you mean the rocks she smuggles into her bedroom? We try to keep them in the yard because she stashes them in her bookcase and it gets all muddy. Vivian tosses them back in the rock pile when she finds them.”
“That must be frustrating,” Lloyd said.
“Yeah, Vivian can hardly keep up with it.”
“No, I mean that she’s finding interesting stuff. You should have them tumbled. One of her rocks is probably Amazonite or Chrysocolla and she has a really cool fossil, too.���
You stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. She knows what she’s looking for. I think it’s the colors in the rocks that attracts her attention. Blues and reds seem to be her favorite. Does she have any books on rocks?”
“No, she can’t read yet.”
“They have picture books,” Lloyd said.
“Huh. That’d be a great Christmas gift. Do you think I should re-seed the lawn?”
“What?”
“It might be too early, and I don’t know if Juan is planning on aerating,” you mused.
“You already did the dishes, the laundry, cleaned the house, and fixed the sprinklers.”
“Oh, crap! I forgot about the dryer. Sam! Come inside, it’s getting late!”
Sam launched a valiant protest when you tried to herd him inside. You tended to the toddler’s outburst while Lloyd went to find Alyssa. She was upstairs in her room. Chewy was curled into a ball on her bed and when he saw Lloyd, the fluffy spaniel growled. Lloyd stopped short, respecting the warning, and leaned against the doorjamb.
“If you pick out some rocks from your bookcase, I’ll help you polish them,” Lloyd offered.
Thirty minutes later you walked into the kitchen to find Alyssa standing on a stool next to Lloyd at the sink. A paper towel full of wet rocks sat next to a pile of used sandpaper.
“What are you two up to?” you asked.
“We’re polishing Alyssa’s rocks. Look at this one, it’s a carnelian.”
You examined the bright red stone and smiled at your niece.
“That’s beautiful.”
She looked down, shrugging, but smiled. Lloyd picked up another one.
“This is a blue lace agate.”
After he showed it to you, he handed it back to Alyssa, who snuck it into her pocket instead of laying it on the paper towel.
“Did you find these in the backyard?” you asked her.
She didn’t respond, so Lloyd answered for her.
“I think she might have, but I’m not sure. There’s enough variety here that I think she collected some of them from other places.”
“You should put them on display in your room. Your Mom will be home soon and she’d like to see them - especially now that they’re clean.”
Alyssa beamed. “Mine.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The quiet hum of the Mercedes’ engine filled the car as you drove west towards the cabin. Lloyd glanced over and you sensed his scrutiny.
“You’ve been awfully quiet,” you said, breaking the silence. “Is something on your mind?”
He turned his attention back to the road, flexing his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Tonight, at your sister’s place…”
“You really hit it off with Alyssa. I was impressed.”
“She’s a sweet kid, but I was actually wondering about all the housework. You did everything from the laundry to fixing the sprinklers. If your sister had hired a whole cleaning crew, they wouldn’t have done as much as you did.”
You sighed. “Vivian is juggling a lot right now. I was just lending a hand.”
“It’s not just tonight, though. You’ve always helped her out, even before, when you were in college. I’ve never seen her do the same for you, especially not to this extent.”
“She’s my sister, and she needed help. Besides, you never complain when I do things for you.”
“I pay you to help me,” Lloyd pointed out. “She didn’t even say thank you.”
You chuckled. “That’s just what having a sister is like.”
“Well, from my perspective, it seems like she’s taking advantage of you.”
“Lloyd, I can’t explain this to you.”
“What’s to explain?” he growled.
“I’m the oldest, it’s different. You wouldn’t understand, you’re an only child.”
Silence fell and again, the gentle hum of the engine filled the car.
“Actually, I’m not.”
“What?” you stared at him.
“I have two younger sisters.”
“You never mentioned… Lloyd, I didn’t realize… the articles about you never said...”
“I haven’t seen them in thirty years.”
“Why?”
His grip on the steering wheel tightened. You watched his shoulders rise and fall on a deep breath.
“My mother left when I was eleven. She took my sisters, but left me.”
“She abandoned you…? And left you with your father?”
“Yeah.”
“Lloyd, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
He shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”
“Did you ever reach out to them?”
“No.”
You frowned. “Why not?”
“I wasn’t even sure they were alive until recently. I doubt they’d want to hear from me. They’ve built lives of their own. What would contacting them do except stir up bad memories? If they can forget… that would be better.”
Better for who? You held back the question, unsure if he was ready to answer it.
Lloyd sighed. “I don’t know if they’d want to see me and talking about them isn’t easy. That’s why I’ve never mentioned them before.”
His face was stony but there was a quiet ache in his voice that hinted at the hurt hidden behind the composed mask.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For assuming. For not asking you about your family.”
He shrugged. “Who could blame you? Sharing isn’t exactly in my nature.”
You turned away, gazing out the window. You tried to imagine having your siblings ripped away but couldn’t manage it. What was wrong with Lloyd’s mother? How could she have done such a terrible thing? There were reasons, of course - desperation, fear, psychosis. None of those answers softened the anger you felt toward the faceless woman who’d snatched Lloyd’s siblings. Why would she leave him behind, sentencing him to live with the man she’d chosen to flee?
“You’re wondering why she took them and left me, aren’t you?” Lloyd asked.
“I can’t imagine what kind of a mother would do something like that. It’s awful.”
“She was crazy. That’s a solid reason, but if you ask me, it’s because I looked like him.”
You were confused. “Him?”
“My father.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The cabin’s porch light glowed in a cozy welcome as Lloyd turned into the driveway. You pretended to look out the window to hide the tears in your eyes.
Lloyd’s childhood couldn’t have been easy. You’d known that already, but what he’d revealed tonight was crueler than your imaginings. He parked and shut off the engine, silencing the quiet hum.
The shrill scream of his phone pierced the quiet, making you jump. He frowned at the caller I.D.
“It’s Roth.”
You watched as he answered and lines of concern creased his face. The words on the other end of the line were muffled but the furrow between Lloyd’s brows suggested the news wasn’t good. He listened for a long time before he spoke.
“Alright. We’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“What’s going on?”
“There’s been a disappearance. Another woman was abducted in Harmony.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Next - Chapter XXIII
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Masterlist
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𝑀𝑦 𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑃𝑒𝑎
Summary ︱Mr. Levinson lives right next door to you, the sweet, innocent college girl. Little do you know that you're Mr. Levinson's favorite neighbor. He's there every chance you need the slightest of help, maybe a little too much.
Pairings︱Mechanic!Ari Levinson x Innocent!Fem!Reader, Robert Pronge x Innocent!Fem!Reader
W.C︱4k
Warnings︱18+ MINORS DNI, Trailer Park AU, it's pretty tame for right now, pet names (Sweet Pea),cursing, reader is scared of Pronge, masturbation (m!) and I think that is all the warnings. Let me know if I missed any!
Author's note︱I am very excited for this series :) This is set around the 90s just because I feel like it fits better with the idea I have going on in my head. It has been awhile since I've written anything so I'm hoping it's not too terrible. I hope you will enjoy this! Feedback is appreciated! Follow my side blog and turn on post notifications :D
“Did you see Mr. Levinson today?” your Mother’s friend, Valerie, asked while wiggling her eyebrows.
“Nope,” you instantly responded. “Have you?”
“Already got my dose of that sexy man.” She smirked while winking at you.
Ari Levinson towered everyone he’s ever met. He stood at a proud 6'6. It was hard to miss the luscious brown locks that fell over his face and the cerulean blue eyes that you could never find your way out of. His beard adorned his jaw and hid the pump rose colored lips he held.
Even when he was doused in motor oil and dirt he was still a beautiful man. He was your neighbor and very well known at the trailer park. Ari was a woman’s walking wet dream come to life.
“He’s already up?” you asked as your eyes bulged out of your head. “It’s like 6 in the morning.”
“Of course he’s up, he’s having his morning coffee.”
You rolled your eyes playfully. “Only you would know that stalker.”
“It’s not stalking Y/N, it's called being an astute observer,” she retorted. “That’s besides the point, shouldn’t you be heading out by now?”
“I should be but…” you started to answer, looking out the window cautiously, “I have a feeling you know who is outside.”
“If you don’t leave now you’ll be late for work which by the way is in 20 minutes,” she reminded you, pointing towards the clock.
“Please don’t remind me.” You internally groaned as you threw your head back and rubbed your eyes.
After a few moments you finally decided to lift yourself from the couch and head your way out. Goosebumps arose on your arms as you opened the front door. You hated this kind of weather, you couldn’t be without a sweater in the morning but by 3pm you’d be sweating like a dog. You shrugged on your brother's jacket, not bothering to zip it up and closed the front door.
Just as you predicted, the person you dreaded seeing most was standing right outside, Mr. Pronge.
Robert Pronge was your neighbor and lived right across from you. Ever since you moved in he formed the bad habit of staring at you and hitting on you like there’s no tomorrow. From what you heard he was a sick sadistic bastard who liked to torture girls with pleasure. He’s had many lovers enter the trailer but seemingly none of them come back.
You didn’t like the way he makes you feel. It felt like a hungry lion stalking its predator, ready to pounce at any moment’s notice. At the same time you couldn’t help but feel hot. Everytime he was near you, your heart raced from the fear and you felt a pulse in between your legs.
“Morning Princess!” Mr. Pronge called out from his front lawn.
“Good morning Mr. Pronge!” You greeted back but only to be polite. You tried to avoid looking too much at him and instead looked towards the ground.
You heard shoes beating against the ground and you prayed with all your heart that it was someone else running. Luck was not on your side that morning. When you looked up it was the one and only Mr. Pronge.
“Where are you going Princess?” he asked. His breath was minty fresh even though his appearance would say otherwise.
“To work,” you bluntly replied, trying to open your car door.
“Aw Princess, don’t be like that,” he cooed. Once you did get your car door open, he immediately slammed it closed, almost smashing your finger in the process. “I’ll give you a ride. Come on, let's go.”
“I appreciate the offer Mr. Pronge but I can take myself,” you insisted while attempting to reopen your car door.
“Princess…” he warningly said.
Mr. Pronge didn’t like it when people told him no. The word no did not exist in his world.
“I said I’ll give you a ride.”
“Leave her alone Robert!” Ari yelled from his porch, causing the both of you to turn around. “She’s probably late for work!”
Mr. Pronge sighed as he stepped back in defeat. “I’ll take you next time Princess.”
You internally groaned at his comment. He could never leave you alone. Every morning he would play this game with you. On the bright side, you were one of the very few people allowed to tell him no and get away with it.
“Thank you Mr. Levinson!” you yelled as you got in the car.
“Anytime!” Ari walked over to Robert after you drove off. Though his eyes never peeled off from you the entire time.
“You’re always in my way,” Robert playfully commented.
Ari chuckled at the jab. Ari always had to save you from him every morning without fail. “Rob, how many times have I told you to leave the poor girl alone?” He asked as he brought his cup of coffee to his lips.
“I will never leave her alone,” he answered with a proud smirk. “Not until I make her mine.”
“Oh please! You’re old!” Ari jabbed at him. “She’s going to want a hot 20 year old guy not some 40 year old.”
“Her father was not present in her life.”
“What does that have to do with anything?!” Ari asked, confused at Robert’s statement.
“The girl has major daddy issues, Ari,” Robert said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “All I gotta do is caress her a bit, say sweet nothings in her ear and bam! She will fall in love with me.”
“Do that and she will call the cops on you.”
“I’d like to see her try,” Robert remarked as he crossed his arms across his chest. “Besides, why do you care?”
“Because her mother is really starting to get concerned and-”
“Oh that's why you’re concerned!” Robert hooted. “You want to fuck the mom!”
“I do not want to have sex with her mom,” Ari declared with a serious tone. “The woman is stressed enough and I feel bad for her and I feel bad for the girl. I see her peek her head out of the door every morning to avoid you.”
“Ari?”
“Yes Rob?”
“Mind your business.”
The following morning was the same dreadful routine. You were trying to stall, not wanting to face Mr. Pronge though you knew he would be there. He always was. Even when you would try to leave at an earlier time. It’s like he would sleep there and wait for you.
Your mother shoved your car keys in your hand. “Sweetie, you need to go now before you’re late.”
“But what if he’s out there?” you asked with a slight hint of fear.
“Is he still bothering you?!” she questioned, her overprotectiveness coming out. “I’ve had enough, I’m going out there.”
“No! No! No!” you instantly said, jolting your hands out to stop her from taking another step. “Please don’t say anything. Mom please!”
Your pleads were granted. She stayed still as she squinted at the window, sending a silent threat to Mr. Pronge.
“Fine,” she said. “But If I hear or even get the feeling, I’m going to rip his nutsack and his stupid smirk off of him.”
“Wow,” you said with your eyes bulging out in shock.
“Sweetie, you’re too nice and a little bit–how can I put this?” she sarcastically questioned herself as she tilted her head to the side. “Oh yeah, you’re naive.”
“I am not naive,” you muttered under your breath, offended.
“Yes you are,” she said as she was walking out of the living room. “Now go to work!”
You grabbed your bag from the couch and swung it over your shoulder. Your hand went on the doorknob, turning it to open the door. You peek your head out to see if you’re one and only was out there waiting for you.
“He’s not there Sweet Pea!” Ari exclaimed. “You’re safe, you can come out!”
“Thanks!” you yelled from the door, fully stepping out. You confidently walked over to your car, happy Mr. Pronge wasn’t outside to terrorize you. Your happiness was soon cut off when you saw a complete flat tire.
“Dang it!” you cursed to yourself. You peered down at your watch, it was 6:41 A.M. You were trying to calculate how much time it would take to go on the bus and you heard the dreadful sound of boots hitting the road.
“Oh no,” you internally whined.
“Got a flat, Princess?” Mr. Pronge sarcastically asked. “I’ll give you a ride.”
Ari quickly stepped in. “Robert no.” You didn’t even hear him walk over to you. You looked at Ari in shock and sent a cry for help at the same time. “Leave her alone.”
“She needs a ride, I’m giving her a ride. What is the problem?” he challenged, taking a step closer to him.
“You’re not taking her.”
Robert straightened his back and puffed his chest out. “And why not?”
“Because I’m taking her. She was just getting something from her car.” Ari grabbed your bag from your hand and placed his hand on your lower back. “Lets go Sweet Pea,” he said as he guided you to his car, opening the door for you and handing you back your bag.
Robert stood in shock. Ari was taking you. And you let him. Though he couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed, he was just wondering how he did it. That lucky bastard.
The inside of his truck was bigger than you ever imagined. It was dirty and there were oil stains everywhere you looked. Wrenches were scattered across the floor along with bolts and lug nuts. The only thing that was almost impeccable was the air freshener hanging off the rearview mirror but there were five oil stained fingerprints on it.
“Thank you for the ride Mr. Levinson, you didn’t have to take me. I could've taken the bus.”
“Don’t even mention it Sweet Pea,” Ari said. “Plus I don’t think you wanted to ride with Rob now did you?”
“No,” you answered as you shook your head. “He scares me.”
“He scares you?” Ari repeated, barely shocked.
“Mhm,” you confirmed with a small hum. “He’s really big and mean. Everyone says he’s the nicest to me and if that’s true I don’t want to see him when he’s mad.”
“It’s true, he’s the nicest to you.” Ari found it weird when Robert wouldn’t constantly yell at you like he did with other people but he can see why. You’re the sweetest thing ever.
“Is that all?”
“Mr. Pronge used to bring women and–and they would come out screaming and crying. It frightened me.”
Robert used to bring women over all the time. They wouldn’t last for too long. They would run out of the house screaming all kinds of profanities after 3 weeks. You’ll never forget the moment a woman came to your house and asked if you had anything sharp. You gave her one of the knives from the kitchen. 5 minutes later the word asshole was embedded on the side of his car in big, bold letters.
You’ll also never forget the time another woman came to your trailer. She screamed while she banged on the door like a madman. When you opened the door she had red hand prints on her body and a barely carved ‘R’ on her exposed hip. She asked you to hide her because he was coming. Sure enough a minute later Mr. Pronge came, demanding you to show him where she was hiding. Luckily your brother was there to kick him out.
He could see why you were scared. Hell even that scared him a couple of times. For some reason Ari didn’t like the thought of you being scared. Hell, he could barely deal with the fact how uncomfortable Mr. Pronge made you.
When you approached the building Ari parked the car and exited out, lightly jogging over to your side and opening your door for you. He held out his hand to you to help you out of the truck, your hand delicately gripped his and he could feel the rush of dopamine releasing in his body.
“Thank you again Mr. Levinson!” you beamed with a bright smile. You raised yourself on your tippy toes and slightly bounced to place a thank you kiss on his cheek.
An unexplainable warmth rushed through him. The action was short and sweet but it made him feel weak in the knees. He would get cheek kisses from women quite a lot but it never felt like this.
“Anytime Sweet Pea.” He felt himself staring at your eyes for a little bit too long. He forced himself to look anywhere else for a brief second, making sure you didn’t grow uncomfortable. “What time do you want me to pick you up?”
“Oh it’s okay Mr. Levinson, I can take the bus or have my brother pick me up.”
“Are you sure?” he asked you again.
You nodded your head. “Thank you again! You’re a lifesaver.”
“Don’t even mention it,” he waves off.
You muttered a small goodbye to Mr. Levinson before taking off into the diner. He watched you go in with a small smile on his face.
Even though this was your first real interaction, he knew he wasn’t going to get enough of you. You were the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. The whole way back he thought of you. You were like a deadly plague in his mind. A beautiful, rose scented, warm plague.
Luckily your brother was able to pick you up after he got off of work. The next bus was going to come within another hour. When your brother picked you up, he was agitated.
“What happened to your tire?” your older brother asked, not amused at all.
“I don’t know.” You shrugged your shoulders. “I went outside this morning and it had a flat.”
“I helped Mr. Levinson changed the tire, it had 4 nails,” he said in a matter of fact one. “4.” he repeated as he held four fingers in the air.
“I’m sorry,” you weakly apologized.
“You need to pay more attention where you’re driving.”
“I didn’t mean to drive over the nails. There weren’t even any when I drove yesterday!” you protested. “I only drove to the library which is 2 minutes away.”
“So they magically appeared?” he sarcastically asked. “Just pay attention please.”
“I will.”
“You left your bus pass on the table this morning. How did you get to work? ” he questioned you. “Mr. Pronge didn’t take you, did he?” He turned to glance at you with a worried look.
“No, Mr. Levinson did,” you told your brother.
“Did you make it on time?” He quickly glanced at you again, “because you are horrible at giving directions.”
“Hey!” you barked at him. “I am not horrible at giving directions.”
“Yes you are.”
“Well lucky for me I didn’t even have to tell him, he already knew where to go,” you responded, “sure did save me the hassle.”
“Did you thank him?”
“Of course I did, I’m not rude,” you responded, half hurt he would think that of you.
The rest of the ride was short but your brother took the remaining 4 minute drive to lecture you once again to pay attention. You tried to zone him out but he would snap at you, telling you to listen. You knew he did it to annoy you, it was simply too easy to annoy you.
When you arrived at home, you jumped out of the car to look at the tire. Sure you had no idea what you were even looking at but it never hurt. You bent down to look at it and you noticed one thing. It wasn’t patched up like before. It was brand new.
“Are you coming in?” your brother asked you.
You turned to look at him. “Yeah, I just have to do something really quick.”
“Don’t take too long, I’ll be done cooking in 10 minutes.”
“I promise,” you told him before he went inside.
You took out a sticky note, a pen and 50 dollars that took you 4 days to earn. You used the hood of your car as a desk and wrote a sweet but short thank you on the sticky note. Afterwards you walked over to his house and placed it under the surprisingly alive flower pot he had on his front porch.
The both of you didn’t see each other for almost 2 days. You got overwhelmed with work that you barely were in the house. It wasn’t until Ari caught you late at the laundromat.
“Sweet Pea?”
You turned around at the sound of your name. “Oh hi Mr. Levinson,” you greeted him with a huge smile.
“What are you doing here so late?” he asked you though he could barely pay any attention to you at the moment. You wore a thin pastel pink cardigan with a pearly white nightgown that had a bow at the valley of your breasts.
“I forgot to do my laundry this morning and I didn’t have time so I came here after work,” you told him.
“Isn’t it a little late to be working?” he questioned you.
“I’ve been picking up other shifts at work,” you said, “it doesn’t help having the extra money.”
“Speaking of money,” he began to say as he took out the fifty you gave him from his front pocket of his flannel, “you left this on my porch.”
“Yeah it’s for you,” you innocently said, “I noticed the tire is brand new and I’m 90% sure my brother forgot to pay you.”
“It’s your money, I’m not taking it. Here.” He passed the money back to you but you refused.
“Keep it, you changed my tire and I’m paying you for your service.”
“I really can’t—”
“Please,” you begged him with puppy eyes.
You pulled at his heartstrings. It agonized him, he didn’t want to take your money but he also didn’t want to make you sad. But he kept it anyway and stuffed it back into the front pocket of his flannel.
“What are you doing here so late?” you asked him as you bent down and took out your now dry clothes.
His eyes peered down for a quick second and he saw the nightgown riding up, revealing your baby blue panties. His throat went dry and he fought hard to keep his gaze up but it found itself looking back down.
“I–I realized I forgot to wash my work clothes.”
“I hate when that happens.” You came back up after you pulled out the last piece of clothing. “Then I’m stuck getting yelled at by the manager when I come in with the wrong clothes.”
Ari chuckled to avoid an awkward silence. Really it was to refrain himself from stuttering or making a fool out of himself. In his head he wanted to compliment you and how pretty your nightgown was but the words wouldn’t leave the tip of his tongue.
He took a deep breath before he spoke. “You look pretty in your nightgown,” he quickly muttered out.
Your eyes lit up at his compliment. “Thank you Mr. Levinson. It’s pretty but I don’t think I’ll keep it.”
“Why’s that?”
“It always rides up and by morning it’s all the way up here,” you pointed to your upper stomach.
Oh what he would give to be a fly in the room in the morning. He quickly changed the conversation, it was obvious you were too oblivious to what you were doing to him. Your sweet voice and innocence were driving him insane but he loved it, he secretly wanted more.
The both of you left the laundromat 40 minutes later. He insisted on carrying your basket for you. You both walked side by side. You were busy trying to keep up with him while he was busy looking down at your breasts.
“Thank you for carrying my basket Mr. Levinson,” you thanked him as you took your basket from him when you got to your front porch.
“Anytime Sweet Pea.”
You kissed his cheek once again to seal your thank you. “Sweet dreams Mr. Levinson.”
“Sweet dreams honey,” he repeated to you.
Ari was in a rush to get back to his trailer but a dear beloved friend was waiting for him.
“Well would you look at that?” Robert sarcastically asked him. “She gave you a kiss on the cheek.”
“Not now Robert,” Ari pleaded, dying to get back into his place.
“What’s the big rush to get back home?” Robert crossed his arms as he smirked, “I see you’re sporting a hard on. Surely it can’t be because of her. Right?”
“Oh shut your trap.”
“It is, isn't it?!” he gawked.
“No it’s not!” Ari protested.
“Oh really?” Robert Challenged as he squinted his eyes.
“I was about to get lucky with Kim before she came into the laundromat and interrupted us,” Ari quickly lied.
“So you waited for her to be done then walked her back?” Robert questioned Ari.
“Of course I did,” he scoffed, “otherwise she would’ve ran into you. Not to mention she’s terrified of you, fuckin’ creep.”
“Whatever. She wants me, I know it,” Robert boasted.
“Yeah in jail.”
Robert rolled his eyes and walked back to his trailer while Ari walked back into his. He immediately locked the door behind him and dropped the basket on the floor.
“Oh thank god,” Ari hissed as he unzipped his painfully tight pants.
His cock was rock hard and had been for the past 20 minutes. The pants barely gave him any friction and if anything, made it worse. He palmed himself through his boxers and moaned in relief.
All he can think about is you in the short nightgown and how he’s never been this hard before. Sure he’s been turned on but it was nothing compared to this. It was like he was a horny spazzy teenager all over again.
He freed his cock from his boxers and sharply inhaled at the impact of the cold air. The tip of his cock was bright red and oozing with precum. He used his thumb to spread his precum and use it as lube.
His eyes screwed shut in bliss when he began pumping up and down. He tried to think of the porn he watched three days ago but instead you kept popping up. He imagined you being here with him, helping him out.
“Does that hurt?” you ask him as you point to his angry, leaking cock.
“It does Sweet Pea,” he rasped out.
“Was it because of me?” you innocently ask him as you bat your lashes.
“Yes,” he admits.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you apologize to him. “Let me help you,” you tell him as you take his cock into your tiny, warm hand.
“Oh Sweet Pea,” he moans out.
“You’re s-so bi-big,” you sputter out, slowly pumping him up and down. “Does that feel better?”
He doesn’t have the strength to talk so instead he nods eagerly. “G-Go a little bit faster.”
You obey him and start pumping faster. His moans fill the room as he gets lost in the pleasure you’re giving him. Your hand is cramping but you don’t care, anything to make him feel good.
“Sweet Pea, I-I’m about to cum,” he warns you.
You get down on your knees while you still pump him. “Let it all go,” you seductively say as you open your mouth.
Ari was brought back to reality when his high overtook him and he orgasmed. It was so intense his thighs started to shake. He continued pumping and pumping until he got too sensitive he had to stop.
He stood there with his cum dripping down his hand and secretly wishing you were there to help clean it all up. The realization had hit him hard, he needed you.
#ari levinson imagine#ari levinson#ari levinson angst#ari levinson fanfic#ari levinson fanfiction#ari levinson fic#ari levinson fluff#ari levinson x fem!reader#ari levinson x female reader#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x y/n#ari levinson x you#ari levinson x innocent!reader#ari levinson one shot#ari levinson au#chris evans x female reader#chris evans x reader#chris evans#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans characters#chris evans angst#chris evans blurb#chris evans character#chris evans drabble#chris evans fan fic#chris evans fan fiction#chris evans fandom#ari levinson smut
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𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚
🕊️a whore's fairytale masterlist🕊️
summary - poor little sleeping beauty (you) has a tough day, from finding out who she really is, and falling into a deep slumber. is the prince able to awaken her?
warning - smut, somnophilia, dubcon (all my characters consent), choking, spitting kink, swearing, creampie, breeding kink, wife kink, kidnapping, cursed.
18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
You were shocked to learn the truth, finding out you were a princess and that your real name wasn’t Briar Rose, you were told your parents had named you Y/n and that they had to send you off with the fairies because a woman named Maleficent cursed you. You had to take a few moments to collect yourself, learning that they were to take you back on your eighteenth birthday, which meant you were due to leave your home any moment now to go back to where your family supposedly lived.
As the four of you began to head off, your mind was full, thinking about your family, the curse, and the man you had met earlier that day. Oh, he was so handsome. You were saddened to hear the news that you were to be betrothed the moment you got to the castle. You didn’t want to be married off to a man you did not know. It didn’t sit right with you. Maybe if you spoke to your parents, they would understand and let you be with the man in the woods.
After the long walk, you had finally arrived at the palace, staring up at it with wide eyes, gobsmacked at the sheer size of it. The guards moved out of the way as you walked closer to the entrance, letting you in. Your blue dress that the fairies made as a birthday present clung to your body with each step. Small hands touched your arm, causing you to look down at Fauna. “We will have to leave you for a bit, my dear. We have some business to attend to before you are able to meet your parents.”
You give a soft smile. “That is alright, Fauna. I’ll be okay.” You assure them, watching as they leave. You begin to look around, admiring the artwork that litters the walls. Suddenly, a wisp of light appears in front of you. Your mind starts to go fuzzy as it pulls you into a trance, and your legs begin to follow as the light moves away from you, leading you toward a secret panel that opens when you are near. You walk up the winding staircase and into the hidden room.
Maleficent’s voice fills the room, coaxing you. “Touch the spindle! Touch it, I say!” Her command fills your ears, taking over your mind, and you have no choice but to obey. Your mind had taken over your legs, causing you to walk over to it. Your hand lifts, finger pointed, before a soft gasp escapes you when the spindle pricks your finger, causing it to bleed. You fall, eyes slipping closed into a deep slumber, not knowing of the dangers that lie ahead. Maleficent cackles as she appears over your unconscious body. “Oh, what a dumb girl.” She smirks as she spies into your mind and sees you dreaming of a man. “Hmm, if you want that man so badly, I guess I could give him to you.”
It was too late when the fairies realised what had happened. They looked at each other with wide eyes. They quickly become their former selves, allowing their wings and magic to take over and lead them to where you are. They would never have expected to be met with you, knocked out into a deep slumber with the one who cursed you standing above you in the same room. Their hearts race as Maleficent looks at the three with a deadly smirk, knowing they wouldn’t be strong enough to stop her.
“The three fairies! Flora, Fauna and…” Maleficent cocks her head to the side, “Merryweather, I’m guessing?” She waves her hand, scoffing. “Oh, well. I don’t care. I assume you came to get your girl? It is a shame. She would’ve done some good for the world.” She reaches down, running her fingers through your hair. “But, I’m willing to show the princess that the world isn’t so good and colourful. Goodbye.” With a wave of Maleficent’s hand, you and she disappear, causing the fairies to set off in a panic, frightened to tell your father, the king, the news.
Maleficent lays you on a soft bed, watching you as you sleep. “M–Maleficent, my queen. T–the prince, we found him…” She turns, raising a brow, waiting for her henchman to spit it out. “It seems he is waiting for the princess at the cabin, h–he seems impatient.”
“Hmm, that sounds perfect. Bring him to me!” She waves her hand before looking down at you. “You’re going to have so much fun, little one, and instead of true love’s kiss.” She scrunches her nose as those words leave her lips, not believing in such a thing. “Let’s make it something more… Extreme.” A dark grin appears on her face, knowing what the prince would do once he saw you. Her crow told her how the two of you got along in the woods and how the man couldn’t stop staring at your soft breasts and plump arse.
Ransom struggled against the henchmen, growling and swearing as they dragged him along. “Get your filthy paws off me! I’ll kill you for touching me! Don’t you know who I am!” The henchmen just shrug and huff, not caring. One of them grabs a cloth and stuffs it into the young prince’s mouth, wanting some quiet. They finally make it up to the room you are held in, throwing Ransom inside.
“Ah, finally.” Maleficent walks over, tilting his head up with her finger underneath his chin. “Hmm, you are quite handsome.” Her eyes drag across his face, getting what you see in him. Ransom’s brows furrow, unable to speak with the cloth in his mouth, his eyes fall upon your sleeping form, and he begins to wonder what the hell is happening. “But, you are not for me… Princess Y/n continues to think of you, and as you can see, she is currently in a deep slumber.” Maleficent leans closer to his ear, whispering. “Why don’t you find a way to wake her up.” She cackles as she straightens and waves her hand, disappearing in a puff of smoke.
His binds and cloth disappearing along with her, Ransom grumbles, shaking his head. “Fucking witches.” He stands, brushing off his clothes, and his head lifts as he peers at you, eyes drifting down your body. “Huh, so you’re the princess I’m meant to marry.” He walks close, tapping the blanket with the tip of his fingers. “I was ready to fuck you as a mere peasant girl, but knowing that you are much more, it’s so much better.”
It’s as though your body knows he is near. Your nipples harden and slick gathers between your thighs, your dreams turning sexual and dirty. You shift in your sleep, letting out a soft whimper as you dream of the handsome man in the woods, bending you over the log and thrusting into your tight cunt.
Ransom smirks as he watches you squirm. His cock hardens when he hears soft whimpers escape you. “Fuck, sweetheart. You sound so good, and I haven’t even touched you yet.” He strips from his clothes, sighing as his cock springs free from his slacks, no longer feeling tight and suffocated. Ransom pulls the blanket away from your body, his cock twitching when his gaze lands on your dress, wondering if it could get any tighter. He slowly gets onto the bed and crawls on top of you, lifting your dress higher as he moves up your body. “So beautiful, and all mine.” He pampers you with kisses, kissing up your body until he reaches your face.
Ransom groans when his leaking member connects with your bare cunt, and he grips his thick base, rubbing his swollen tip through your sopping folds. “Jesus, you’re so wet, sweetheart. What or who is making you so wet?” He raises his brow in jealousy, wondering who you could be dreaming of when he is here for you. “You know what? If you’re going to be a little slut in your dreams. Then I’m going to treat you like one.” Ransom growls, sick of competing with someone else when you should only be focused on him. He aligns his mushroom tip with your tight hole before thrusting in. His eyes close as he grunts, never having felt someone like you before.
Sweet moans pass your lips, dreaming of the handsome man in the woods gently lying you onto a blanket on the ground, pressing his hips into yours as he buries himself deeply into you, making love to you, marking your skin with his hands and lips. Your back arches in your dreams, arms wrapping around him, nails digging into his back.
Ransom moans, “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Shit, sweetheart, you’re squeezing me so fucking tight. You’re sweet walls are fluttering around me like crazy.” He buries his face into your neck, peppering kisses along your skin and thrusting harder and faster into your sweet honey pot. “My sweet little sleeping beauty.” Getting lost in how good you feel around his member, he hastily grabs a pillow and shoves it under your hips before gripping them, giving him leverage. “When you wake, I’ll continue to fuck you. I’ll fuck you every day, even after you become my wife. I’ll pump you full every single day and night. You won’t think of looking at another man when you have me.”
He nuzzles closer to you, pounding harder as he kisses your cheek, moving closer to your lips, his eyes slipping closed, enjoying the feeling of you wrapped around him. “You’re mine, my sweet Y/n. All mine.” The moment his lips connect with yours, magic explodes around the two of you. Your eyes fly open, arms wrapping around him and your back arches. Ransom smirks, tilting his head back as he looks down at you with hooded eyes. “Ah, my sweet little sleeping beauty is finally awake. Do you feel that, sweetheart? Do you feel me inside you? Fucking into you, claiming you?” He fucks into you deeper, hitting against the hidden spot inside you. Ransom cups your cheek, glaring down at you with lust-filled eyes. His thumb lands on your bottom lip, pulling your mouth open. “You’re mine, understood?”
You whimper, feeling yourself throb around his cock, never having experienced pleasure like this before. Your mind is cloudy, being pulled from your dream to see it come true with the man you’ve fallen for. You claw at his back, digging your nails into his soft flesh. “O–oh, it feels so good, my prince!” You scream, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues to pound into that spot, allowing Ransom to spit directly into your mouth, smirking as you immediately swallow.
Ransom moves his hand between you, rubbing and rolling your swollen clit between his fingers. Enjoying the feeling of you squeezing his thick cock, he continues to pound into you, the hand that cups your cheek, moves to your throat and squeezes. “You’re going to cum for me, sleeping beauty, and then. I will pump you so full of my cum that it leaks out of you for months.” Your sweet moans fill the room, walls tighten around Ransom, your back arches, and you cum, your juices squirt out of you, covering everything. “Fuck, sweetheart.”
He captures your lips with his, thrusting harder and deeper until his cock twitches and his eyes slip closed. Ransom groans when his end approaches, burying himself deep inside you and emptying thick spurts of cum, coating your walls and filling you to the brim. He begins kissing down, resting on your neck, leaving soft kisses in his path. “My sweet little sleeping beauty.” Ransom lifts his head and stares deeply into your eyes, his softening cock still deep inside you, blocking his cum from leaking out. “You’re now mine forever.”
You hum, feeling your eyes begin to droop again. You would later learn not to fall in love with the first handsome man you laid your eyes upon.
thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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Silent Treatment | Andy Barber
Pairing -> Husband!Andy Barber x Wife!Reader
Summary -> After a fight with Andy almost a week ago and you ignore and avoid him as much as possible. Then he makes sure you understand that he loves you and that he wants you to listen when he says something.
Warnings -> (E) Minors DNI, 18+, smut, pinning against the wall, dry humping, thigh riding, daddy kink, kinda Dom!Andy, sub!Reader, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (male!receiving), deep throat, unprotected p in v, using of the word slut, kinda dirty talk, praises,
Wordcount -> 2k.
Request -> I had a request if you would be able to write it, where the reader gives Andy the silent treatment and it lasts all week or something and ends with some hot spicy smut 🌶️❤️🥺 craving some hot Andy!! Unless you’ve already have something written… ✨
A/N -> Thank you so much for that request, anon. It makes me feel things I didn’t know I feel for him but you show me with that request haha. The idea is such a good one and I hope you like what I came up with. My request are open, so if you have an ask don’t hesitate to ask.
Masterlist | Andy Barber Masterlist
It’s been a week since the argument with your husband, Andy, but you haven’t talked or interacted a lot with him. Whenever he tried to say something, you interrupted him with anger in your voice. Actually, you’re not that stubborn, but you’re mad, and you want to show him exactly that.
You miss his touch, but you can’t bring yourself to talk to him or let him touch you more than possible. His arms around your waist at night or his kisses along your neck when the two of you sit on the couch. But you’re still mad at him, right? Or do you just want to provoke him and hide it behind anger?
Andy tries to touch you or at least kiss you, but whenever you turn away, he groans. He slowly gets impatient and thinks about a way you can’t say no to him anymore. And your teasing is a good reason for him to tease you as well, but in a more pleasurable way than you do to him.
You’re in the kitchen. You make some lunch for the two of you. You can hear his footsteps behind you before his arms are wrapped around your waist. Andy presses your back against his muscular front. You try to wiggle yourself out of his arms, but he is stronger than you and holds you in place.
“Andy,” you mumble, but he tightens his grip around you.
His fingers dig into your soft skin, and you groan softly. Andy chuckles and lowers his head to place it on your shoulder. Kissing and biting your neck.
“Honey, stop ignoring me,” he groans into your ear.
“I’m not ignoring y-“ you try to say, but you interrupt yourself when Andy turns you around and pushes your back against the kitchen counter.
“You’re not?” he asks, his eyes immediately dark when you shake your head.
His hands are trailing your sides up and down. With one movement, he turns the two of you around and presses you against the wall on the other side of the small room. You gasp when your back touches the hard wall. Andy smiles and takes your hand into his, pressing them above your head against the wall.
“Andy-“ you whimper, pushing your waist against him.
He doesn’t say anything; his thigh parts your legs apart, and he presses it between your legs. You throw your head back when you feel the slight friction. You move on his thigh and feel your arousal dripping out of you, soaking your pants.
“Stop acting like a slut,” he hisses.
You try to stop your movements and do what he tells you, but the pleasure feels too good. His one hand holds your hands still above your head while the other trails down until he reaches your face and grips your chin harshly.
“Stop moving.” His tone is demanding, and you obey; you don’t want to make him mad.
“Andy, please,” you whimper, but he shakes his head.
“You ignored me for almost a week, and now it’s on me how fast or slow you get the pleasure you want,” Andy groans.
You roll your eyes playfully and pretend to move on his thigh again, but Andy takes his knee away and chuckles darkly. His hand around your chin slides along your body until he reaches your covered pussy.
“Desperate, so desperate,” he mumbles when you push your body against his hand.
Andy chuckles and captures your pussy with his hand. You moan softly and look at him with an already fucked-out look. He moves his fingers against the fabric and draws small circles on them, making you whine.
“Andy, please,” you beg, but he just laughs and lets go of you.
“That’s wrong, honey. Say it right,” he demands, and you want to groan in frustration, but his look at you stops you immediately. There is not that much fun or frustration allowed, not yet, with your horny husband in front of you.
“Daddy, please. I need you,” you whine and press yourself more against him.
“Where do you need me to touch you, honey?”
“Down there.”
Andy chuckles darkly when those words leave your lips as a whimper. He knows exactly what you want, and he will give it to you, but not yet. First, he wants you on your knees like a good girl and sucking his dick as an apology for ignoring him.
“You think it’s that easy to get what you want after ignoring you?” he asks, and you nod. Maybe he wants you to say yes, and then he finally fucks you, but he just shakes his head. “You will beg, and you will obey,” Andy whispers, and you moan softly.
Your husband lays one of his hands on your head and grips your hair harshly, pressing you down until you’re on your knees. He smiles at you and pulls your face closer to his dick. Your nose almost touches the bulge in his pants.
“Open them and pull them down,” he commands, and you do.
With your hands, you open his belt and pull his pants down. His boxers cover his dick. You don’t hesitate before you let his boxers slide down his legs, and his length springs free. It slaps against his stomach, the tip already leaking with pre-cum.
“Open your mouth, baby girl. And suck it, give Daddy a reason to give you your reward,” Andy groans and pushes your head further to his dick.
You open your mouth and take one of your hands around his dick. Andy looks with pure lust in his eyes at you and grins. You kiss the tip of his dick, moving your hand slowly up and down. Your husband groans and pushes his hips in your direction, his cock pushing against your mouth.
He guides his dick deep into your mouth and down your throat. A groan leaves his lips when you almost gag around his length. Your hands rest on his thighs while he slowly pulls out of your mouth. His tip is still in your mouth, and you can still taste him.
"It's so pretty when you look like an innocent little girl, but you’re actually a little slut for my dick. My little cock slut, aren’t you?” he asks.
Before you can answer, he pushes his hips forward and pulls your head closer by your hair. His cock is sliding down your throat again. The tears burn in your eyes when he hits a spot in your throat that you didn’t know he could reach. His grip on your hair tightens while he waits a moment before he pulls it out of your mouth again. The creams that leave his mouth make you almost go crazy.
“Swallow,” he says sternly.
Andy doesn’t hesitate to push into your mouth again, ignoring your gagging around him. You both know that as long as you don’t use your safe word or slap him two times on his thigh, he can do this. You talked a lot before you changed from vanilla to some kinky activities in bed.
When you control your breathing again, you swallow and make Andy moan loudly. He adores the feeling of your throat feeling even tighter when you swallow. The warmth of your mouth, your tongue gliding along his shaft, and the tight feeling around his huge dick.
Your husband's dick is twitching in your mouth, and you know he is close. You move your head a bit, but Andy stops you with his grip on your hair and lets his dick slide out of your mouth. You groan in frustration, getting a dark chuckle from Andy.
“Want me to cum in your mouth? Not only my cock slut, but also a little cum slut,” he laughs, gripping your chin with his free hand.
You still have the tears in your eyes, and a few are rolling down your cheeks. Andy shows you, with some pressure under your chin, to stand up. Your legs are shaking, and you wrap your arms around his muscular arms to hold you. Andy lets go of your hair and holds you by your waist.
“I want to fuck you against the wall; I can’t wait to push my dick so deep into your wet and tight hole, honey,” he groans, stroking your cheek softly. “You did so well for me when you sucked my dick; now be a good girl and let Daddy fuck you right here and right now,” Andy mumbles, and you nod.
You hear the sound of your clothes tearing up while he smiles at you. The cold air blows against your wet folds, and you shiver slightly. Andy’s hand is wrapped around his cock, the tip sliding through your folds, and you place your hands on his shoulder, pulling him closer.
Andy pushes him slowly inside of you. Your walls clench around him while he pushes himself deeper inside of you. A moan escapes your lips, and you throw your head back when he finally meets your sweet spot.
“Andy, please,” you whimper, digging your nails into his skin.
“Try again, honey.”
“Daddy, please. Move, making me cum.”
Your husband chuckles and pulls almost completely out of you before he pushes his dick inside of you again. Your fingers are scratching over his skin, and you are probably leaving bruises there, but neither you nor Andy care about it.
“Faster, please,” you whimper.
Andy leans closer; you feel his breath against your ear and his groans when he pounds into you.
“You really think you can tell me what to do, honey?”
You shake your head but press your hips closer, so he pushes in another angle inside of you. His tip hits your sweet spot again, and you clench around him. Andy kisses along your neck, biting softly into the skin, before he lets go of you and looks into your eyes. His hands are holding your waist.
“You want me to be rough; I’ll be rough,” he says with a grin.
With your head leaning against the wall, you let your husband fuck you against it. Your skin is sweaty, and you try to ground yourself with your fingers on his back. His movements become sloppy, and you feel his thick cock twitching between your clenching walls.
“So tight for me. But you take me so well, honey,” he praises, and you smile softly.
Andy slides one of his hands between your legs and draws circles on your clit. His fingers slide through your folds before he plays with your clit again. You moan, your hips pushing further against him, and when he hits your sweet spot a few more times, you almost scream while the orgasm rushes through your body.
“Squeezing me so well,” Andy groans, pounding into you.
Your eyes roll back, and you feel his dick twitching between your walls. Your tight walls clench with every thrust more around his length, and it doesn’t take long for him to fill you with his cum. Andy groans and lets his head fall against your shoulder. His breath is heavy, but he still moves slowly into you.
“I’m not pulling out of you,” he mumbles, holding your waist to lift you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, and he walks with you in his arms out of the kitchen.
“The food,” you say and point to the desk, but he just chuckles.
“You can have something else, but first we take a shower.
You groan playfully, knowing that he talks about more sex later. Andy carries you into the bathroom before he finally lets you down and presses his lips on yours.
“Don’t ignore me again, or I won’t be so soft,” Andy mumbles against your lips, and you nod. His cum drips out of you while he prepares everything for a warm bath together. “I love you, honey.”
“I love you too, Andy. But next time, just fuck me a few days earlier, then I don’t have to ignore you for so long,” you joke around, and he raises his eyebrows with a smirk at you.
Taglist: @nicoline1998enilocin | @mrsbuckybarnes1917 | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @rogersbarber | @kandis-mom | @km-ffluv | @identity2212 | @bookishtheaterlover7 |@lunaalovesyouu
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🍓° 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠
𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Mafia!Ari Levinson x lovesick!reader
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, sweet soft!reader, she’s a little oblivious. size difference: 6’8!Ari, he’s a total beefy hunk. neighbours au, a little tumble, stripper!reader, brief mentions of mafia business, undeniable daddy energy.
𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | It was a little ridiculous how in love you were… With a single glance, he could make you melt until you’re a pile strawberry ice cream, tied with a pretty ribbon, and sitting on his doorstep.
𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑
𝗪/𝗖 | 2.45K
𝗔/𝗡 | just a little something I wrote inspired by Melting by Kali Uchis (also where the title is from). this is my first mafia fic but there isn’t much detail since this is a real itty bitty au. as always, all mistakes are my own. [all posts/asks]
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Time seems to slow when he jogs by, clad in shorts and a loose tank top with sweat seeping through the grey. His tan skin is covered in a light sheen, making the dozens of tattoos appear darker. From your seat on the porch, they still look like black blobs and lines stretching from his broad shoulders to his hands.
You’ve never seen them up close, but you have a few ideas of what they might be—a whole page in your diary to be exact.
Your eyes fall to his muscled legs, firm and thick thighs strain his shorts and just the beginnings of dark ink poke from underneath the fabric. You barely notice the ice cream melting down the cone to your hands, too deep in a daze when tingles blossom from your chest to your toes. A dreamy sigh flows from your lips as the wind flutters through his long brown hair, brushing along his bearded cheeks.
He turns to you and flashes a bright smile before turning the corner and disappearing down the street. That single glance makes your heart pound ten times faster, and all of your thoughts tangle into one ball of ribbons, varying in colours, prints and lace, but so evidently you.
If you could, you’d gift him that mess just so he could know how much he affected you without even trying.
"Oh no!" You quickly wipe your hands from the melting strawberry ice cream but it's useless, the pink stains your white dress and drips down to the ribbon around your ankle.
It’s almost too symbolic—the pretty pink bleeds all over your ivory clothes, ruining your life just like the fluttering trapped in your rib cage.
Honestly, it would’ve been easier to hate him, but he was so damn big that you didn’t have any space left in your heart to hate him.
To say you're in love would be an understatement. In every fantasy and daydream, he's the main focus, your co-star, your lover, your saviour draped in silk button-ups and silver rings. Oh, he's everything you've ever wanted! As if you manifested him when you were a young child and wrote about the perfect boy to sweep you off your feet and make your life a living fairytale—everything you scribbled in glittery pen has come true before your very eyes.
You don’t even mind that he and his biker friends rev their engines at three in the morning, but your roommate doesn’t agree, she’s never agreed.
The front door slams shut and you stiffen, hurriedly flipping through a random page in a magazine and desperately trying to act like you were not staring at his house next door.
"Did you do it?"
"Do what?" You ask, voice already on edge. Vibrant red hair comes into your peripherals, as well as a pair of angry green eyes.
Natasha groans, setting down her bag on the kitchen counter. "You chickened out again? I need my sleep before I lose my mind. I can’t get any if he and his dumbass friends treat this street like a fucking race track!”
“They aren’t even that loud—and I bought you earplugs.”
“I am not touching those things until those assholes learn how to be decent human beings!” She rolls up her sleeves and grabs your arm, yanking you from the barstool.
"Wait! What are you doing!"
Her heels stomp on the hardwood floor, nearly shaking the picture frames on the walls, “I messed up five drinks today, do you know how bad that looks when they’re my recipes?” She huffs, "he's out there right now mowing his lawn and you're gonna talk to him."
You grab onto the nearest thing which happened to be the couch and clutched it for dear life. “No—you do it!”
"He doesn’t listen to me!" She digs her fingers into your sides making you yelp and feebly swat her away, but you just screwed up big time. “Just try, baby, please! For me!”
That’s the last thing you hear as you stumble out the front door, tripping over the damn welcome mat and tumbling down the stairs. It’s only a few steps, but it stings when your back thumps onto the stone walkway, your poor elbows cushioning your fall.
You barely catch the engine cutting and rushed footsteps before he appears.
He stands over you with sweat brimming at his hairline, a deeply concerned expression etched onto his face, "awh shit, are you okay?"
As always, the air goes thin and you’re under that dumb lovesick spell again. The sun glows around his head like a halo, melting you to the bone, and leaving a mess on the stone in the same shades as your love—strawberry ice-cream pink.
It’s terrible that you don’t know how deluded your tender heart is.
"You're bleeding," he crouches low, gently examining your elbow, "did your roommate push you down the stairs?”
"No! No, I-I fell.” Obviously! “But I'm okay." You utter, avoiding the peeping redhead through the curtains. Your gaze lands on his long fingers wrapped around your arm. He’s warm, warmer than you thought. Heat radiates off his body and envelops you like an old friend, familiar and calm.
"Are you?" He inquires unconvinced, "here, let me clean you up." He leaves no room for protests as he helps you up and leads you to his porch.
After you sit on the couch, he disappears inside the house before emerging with a large white case. He sits next to you and opens the kit on the table.
"That's a lot of stuff." You note, staring at the packed first aid kit. There are various rolls of gauze, different ointments, and bandages, far more things than your tiny plastic box under the sink.
Judging by his shiny sports car, and his collection of perfectly tailored suits and watches, Ari lived a very different life than you and you’d do anything to know about it. Your naive heart aches for him so badly it almost hurts.
“It’s better to be safe than sorry. Can I touch you, sweetheart?”
You watch him tend to your injury with slow and careful movements, his dark brows knitted in concentration. You’ve never been this close to him, the sudden rush of blood almost makes you lightheaded, but his scent brings you back down. The woody cologne floods your nose, followed by a dash of vanilla with underlinings of musky spice.
“What happened to your other dress?” He glances up, eyes shaded under his thick lashes.
“Oh… It got dirty.”
He hums, “what a shame.” He delicately presses down the edges of the bandage. “That’s one of my favourites. It always makes my day to see you wearing it.”
You swallow down a whimper and clench your thighs, seconds away from dropping to your weak knees. Embarrassment fills your chest, tinged with guilt, “I’m sorry, sir.” The words slip out before you could think.
He cracks a small smile, shaking his head, “it’s okay, just be more careful next time, yeah? Can’t have you ruining the little purple one too, that’s my second favourite.”
Dull thumps hammer inside your head, muffling his raspy voice. You nod silently, digging your sock-clad feet into the concrete.
You take the chance to memorize his tattoos, from the intricate rose by his wrist following the thorn stems up his arm where they entwined with a heavily shaded skull. Thin script is scattered along his skin, you can’t make out the exact words but they’re in swooping cursive, clinging to his flesh like wet chiffon.
His arms tighten as he cleans up, the muscles shifting under his paper-thin t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination. Every unconscious flex clouds your head, tunnelling your vision until he’s all you can see. A small whine sounds from your throat and his eyes flicker to yours, blue as can be.
“I don’t see you leave very often.” You were either inside or sitting on the front porch with a treat and a magazine, or in the backyard tending to that small garden. “Do you work?”
“I… I did, then I got fired.” The wound was still a little fresh. “But it wasn’t my fault, I swear!”
Ari perks up in interest, although he knows plenty about you, this was strikingly new. Aside from your basic profile, he knew about your past as well, including where you grew up, where your parents lived, and how long you’ve been in this city.
It was only right to know about the two girls living next to his late grandmother’s house. Curtis insisted since Ari wouldn’t let him stay in the old two-storey home, but instead the house down the street.
He came here to be alone and mourn, but that was hard to do with a cute neighbour always staring at him. Yet he stopped caring after you left a small bouquet of hand-picked flowers on his doorstep and an adorable ‘welcome to the neighbourhood!’ note.
He forgot how good it felt to be sought after, rather than feared and honoured like a living legend. You gave him that sliver of normalcy with your longing loved-up looks and quick dashes inside when he pulled into the driveway. To you, sweet-spirited you, he was an ordinary guy, not someone with a history coloured in hues of red and dripping all over his shoes, smearing the black ink of his future; an eternity tied to his family’s glory that’s now his.
“This customer was being so mean and I know I should’ve stayed professional but I was havin’ such a bad day already.” Your bottom lip trembles, flashes of that terrible day flickering through your head, “first I slept through my alarm, then I missed the bus, and my make-up broke in my bag a-and everything was all ruined.”
He reaches out, rubbing your knee soothingly. Poor girl, if it was up to him, you’d never be mistreated. “Where did you work?”
“Venom Vixens.” You sniffle, hoping he isn’t the judgemental type, you’ve known too many people who would humiliate you for your chosen career. “I, uh, I wasn’t one of the girls on stage since I was still new but I liked it there. My coworkers were nice, I got free drinks, and…”
“And?”
“I felt,” you look down at your hands, they were so much smaller than his, “I felt pretty. People go there to look and flirt, and I didn’t mind being on the receiving end of it.”
Ari wouldn’t mind giving you all of that instead.
He licks his lips, imagining you in a tiny lace set, the sheer fabric clinging to your figure while you swayed around the dimly lit club. A piece of art in the sea of ogling and drooling patrons, blooming beautifully under the flattery.
“You liked the attention.”
You giggle, “Yeah, a lot. Sure, some customers were gross and would say nasty things, but others were nice, real nice—they’d tip a lot and compliment me. Most of them were just lonely, they wanted someone to talk to or someone to spoil.”
You don’t regret accepting their fawning or expensive gifts, hell, most of your jewelry was from your loyal clients. Sparkly things paired with sweet words were a one-way ticket to your good books.
“How about your boss?” Ari asks, “how did he treat you?”
Venom Vixens wasn’t only a haven for the lonely or where perverts got their fill, but of course, you wouldn’t know that. You’d have a heart attack if you knew of the shady people who walked in and out of those doors, you’ve probably served a few of them, flashed that bright smile and earned yourself a big tip—unknowingly pocketing the filthy, blood-stained money.
“Mr. Hansen was very friendly, but everything went through him. If we wanted to change a routine, we had to perform it for him first and get his approval. He said it was protocol.” Ari snorts but you don’t catch it, all too distracted with twisting the ring on his middle finger. “He was nice when you were nice to him.”
“So he must’ve always been kind to you. You’re the loveliest girl I’ve ever met.”
You preen under his praise and nod happily, questioning why you were so nervous around him in the first place.
Ari was a flirt—and you loved being flirted with.
“Mr. Hansen called me his favourite before he fired me. That was over two weeks ago, and Nat said I could take my time but,” you sigh, “I feel like a bother.”
He wonders if your best friend would still hate him if she knew he was the reason that her cafe was still standing. Without his ruling over the South district, there would be chaos, and that little joint would’ve been ransacked long ago.
Did he also call for extra protection because you frequented the establishment? Proudly so.
“Are you still looking for a job?” He takes your distant hum as a yes, “Do you want to work for me?”
Your head snaps up, your sparkling eyes wide in surprise.
“I’m opening a new club in a few days and I’ve got a spot left for a performer.” He didn’t, but he had no problem giving someone the boot to make room for you.
Your mouth opens and closes several times, and the thought of Ari owning a club flies straight over your head. You’ve watched him more than your favourite movie but you still didn’t know a damn thing about him, except that he smokes, liked to work out and alternated between a white mustang and a sleek black motorcycle.
Oh, and sometimes he changes in front of his bedroom window.
“You’ll be my boss?”
Say the word, and he’ll be much more than that.
He smirks, gripping your jaw and turning you from side to side, blue eyes flickering over your features, “Sure will. I have a feeling this pretty face will be the main attraction every night.”
Your heart swells when his fingers dig into your cheeks. “I-I would, but Nat won’t like that. She kind of hates you… and your friends.” He adds pressure and your lips pucker, “you’re all s-ho loud wit ya’ bikes ‘n engines.”
Ari bites his tongue, it was either the motorcycles or the blood-curdling screams of the poor soul in the basement. He made a mental note to speed up the process of that soundproof room, he couldn’t have you losing sleep over his business.
“She doesn’t have to know.” He replies, releasing your face in favour of loosely grasping your throat. Your pulse thumps under his fingers, hard and fast, speeding up as he leans closer, “c’mon, don’t you want to be a star? Get all that attention again and make me proud?”
𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i just love sweet!readers, they're my faves 🥹 and pairing them with big hunky (secretly soft) men is heaven !! i can't get enough !!!!
𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! I love you all very much 😚🫶
As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼
I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
#ari levinson#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson fanfic#ari levinson fanfiction#ari levinson au#ari levinson x fem!reader#ari levinson x female reader#mafia ari levinson#mafia au#mafia!ari levinson#ari levinson x you#reader insert#melting au#ari levinson x lovesick!reader#lovesick!reader#sonny’s stories#chris evans#Chris evans fanfic#Chris evans fanfiction#Chris evans characters#chris evans x reader#ari levinson fluff#lovesick reader#tw mafia#ari levinson x Stripper!reader#sweet!reader#ari levinson one shot#red sea diving resort
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Resignation
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Female Reader
Summary: You get to know Andy a bit more and put in your notice, but your boss doesn't it take it well.
Word Count: Almost 4.4k
Warnings: Slow burn, getting to know each other, sugar daddy contraction, tension, flirting, slight insecurities, inner monologue, yelling (apologies to anyone named Sean), Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?)
Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics, Header - yours truly
Previous Part: Sign the Dotted Line
A/N: Welcome back to my Terms and Conditions AU! Hope you lovelies enjoy. Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
The feeling of floating on cloud nine wasn't something you experienced much in your life. There were high points, of course, but nothing like the elation that filled you as Andy went to make a copy of the contract. It was almost dizzying to think that for the next three quarters of a year, everything was going to be okay. Better than okay.
All thanks to Andy.
Estelle shrieked as she pulled you to your feet. “You're a sugar baby! You're a sugar baby!” she sang, making you laugh as she did a little dance with it.
“I thought you said I was going to be his ‘companion’,” you teased.
She leveled you with a look. “It’s the same thing,” she said, grabbing her bag. “And since your new ‘companion’ is taking you to the diner, why don’t we celebrate tomorrow? You better give me all the details.”
You giggled again at the implication as she squeezed you in a tight hug. If you weren’t happy before, you would've been thanks to her infectious attitude. “You sure don’t need me to head down with you?”
“No, I’m good. You just enjoy the rest of the day,” she said, winking at you and pointing at Andy when he came back. “Have fun and be good to her or I’ll destroy you,” she told him as she walked by with every ounce of confidence you wished you had. “And nice meeting you!”
You half expected there to be an air of awkwardness once the two of you were left alone and were surprised not to feel it at all. It was hard to describe the atmosphere outside of that, but it was something both familiar and new. Maybe that was because Andy continued to put you at ease all while exciting you. The next chapter of your time would be unpredictable in ways that you were looking forward to encountering.
Did he feel the same way?
Andy chuckled after a moment, the sound bringing a smile back to your face as he held up the papers in his hand. “I realize this is probably a bit outdated since everything is done electronically, but I prefer it this way.”
“I don't think it’s outdated,” you assured him as he handed you the contract, his fingers brushing yours. Would you ever get used to the jolt of electricity you felt at his touch? “It’s less of a chance of it getting leaked.”
Though it was you he worried about, you still wanted to protect his reputation.
“Yes, it is,” he said, smiling to himself when you tucked the papers carefully in your folder. “Estelle is serious, isn’t she? She’ll destroy me if I hurt you?”
“Oh, yeah. She isn’t afraid of anyone,” you said as you shifted slightly on your feet. “But I wouldn't worry about her. I don't expect you to hurt me.”
He had to know that.
Andy took a step closer. “She’s a good person to have on your side,” he commented, butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the soft look in his eyes. “And I have no intention of hurting you.”
You carefully considered his words with furrowed brows. “Aren't you supposed to say you promise not to hurt me?”
A sad smile touched his lips. “People make promises and usually do so for the right reasons, but they don't always lead to the desired outcome,” he replied as if he peeled back a small layer of himself that still left you with questions. “Take the weeklong silence, for example. I inadvertently hurt you by not reaching out.”
Your cheeks flamed, almost wishing you hadn't mentioned it. “But we talked about that. You didn't mean anything by it.”
“Yes, we did talk about it and I'm glad you told me how you felt. I still caused doubt in your mind though,” he said, his tone gentle and understanding without breaking eye contact. “So while I do want to promise that I’ll never hurt you, I'd rather promise that I have no intention of ever hurting you. Because I don't.”
It took a moment to recall that Andy was married once years ago. While you weren't sure why things ended, did his divorce give him a new perspective on making and keeping promises? Or was it his time as a lawyer?
Whatever the reason you had to respect him for his outlook.
“I appreciate that and I will hold you to that,” you said, falling in step beside him as you headed for the door.
He raised an eyebrow as he held it open for you to go through, allowing you to catch the scent of his cologne again as you walked past. You almost asked what brand it was just so you could get a bottle and spritz your worn in sweatshirts. “Isn't this the part where you promise you have no intention of hurting me?” He questioned.
“I don't think I have the power to hurt you,” you replied, not looking behind you as you headed toward the elevator. You were positive you didn't have that kind of influence nor did you want to hurt him. “But I promise that I have no intention to do so.”
You froze when he leaned in close, his beard ticking your ear and it took all of your inner strength not to turn your head toward him. “Never underestimate how powerful you are, honey,” he whispered, your breath rushing out of your lungs as he stepped back and gestured to the open elevator doors. “Shall we?”
“Sure,” you replied, your voice more breathy than you intended as you stepped inside. You swore you caught him smiling before he joined you.
“I gave my driver the afternoon off, so you’re stuck with me,” he said, pressing the button for the lowest level before the doors slid shut. “I hope that’s okay.”
“I think I can handle you driving,” you teased, happy that the two of you would be alone for part of the evening.
He chuckled before he went quiet again. The silence was comfortable, the soft dings as you passed each floor the only sound in the space. It gave you a moment to admire the man beside you. With his perfect posture, chin held high, and pristine suit, you tried to picture how he looked when he simply relaxed. No eyes on him. No one expecting anything from him.
Maybe he can show me that side of himself sometime soon.
“You’re staring,” he stated.
You smiled, not at all embarrassed that he caught you without looking your way. “I guess it’s because I’m still trying to figure you out.”
That and he was still one of the most handsome men you had ever seen.
But who was Andy Barber beyond his money? Your hero and your second chance at a better life, but what else? What did he do for fun? What did he want out of life, years from now?
Andy swung his head toward you as the elevator came to a stop. “I guess that makes two of us then.”
You found yourself in his car a few minutes later. The Audi still had that “new car” smell to it, the passenger seat sleek and not at all broken in. There wasn’t a spec of dust on the leather interior. Either he didn’t drive it often or he made sure to keep it in next to perfect condition.
Your mind drifted back to Andy’s earlier statement. What exactly was he trying to figure out? If he meant that he was trying to figure you out, he didn’t have to look too deeply. And if he was still trying to figure himself out, that was normal. Searching for your true self was a lifelong journey. And with your newfound sense of freedom at your fingertips, you’d be able to explore your own passions and visualize your ideal self.
But part of you figuring Andy out was getting to know him.
“Why the diner?” You asked, glancing over at him as he concentrated on the road in front of him. “I mean, why go there for coffee or food when you can go anywhere else?”
Maybe upscale places weren’t his usual style. He took you to the Courthouse and looked at ease there, but maybe the diner was an escape. Something different.
“I didn’t grow up with much, but my mom made it work as best as she could,” he admitted, a wistful note in his voice. “We never went hungry and she got creative with some meals so I wouldn’t get tired of eating the same thing. Things like fast food were considered a treat and diners were fine dining.”
You shifted in your seat as you listened, touched by the unexpected vulnerability. “I’ll bet she looked forward to those moments,” you said.
“She did and so did I,” he smiled over at you. “On the rare nights when she was able to save up and take us to a diner, she got a large breakfast or dinner meal for us to split. Best way to stretch her dollar and make sure neither of us felt hungry after.”
You almost reached over to take his hand, but you didn’t want to overstep. He was giving you a piece of himself by revealing a part of his past. That was more than you could ask for.
“I went to diners in college, too, when I was struggling to make ends meet,” he continued, stroking his beard for a moment. “I guess they kind of stuck with me because they reminded me of happier times. They also serve as a reminder to be thankful for what I have. It’s important to remember who I was then and who I am now.”
You let out a breath and closed your eyes as he turned onto the next street, wishing you could thank his mother for raising such an amazing man. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”
His hand covered yours unexpectedly when your eyes opened. “Thank you for asking.”
You turned your wrist so your palm met his, your stomach flipping as he held it a little tighter. Opening up was never easy, even if Andy made it sound effortless. You felt closer to him after hearing that important piece of his history. Even the crackle of electricity felt different this time. Instead of a jolt, it was like a steady hum.
Maybe that closeness was the reason you didn’t want to let go when he parked his car in front of the diner.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
You swallowed as you glanced out the window, the flashing lights from the sign of the beckoning for you to go in. “I just can't believe I'm actually going to quit,” you said, clutching your bag with your other hand. “I mean, I do believe it. I have my resignation letter here and everything.”
“Even when you had that bit of doubt that the contract wouldn't go through, you had your letter ready,” he smiled.
You toyed with the strap of your bag as you tried to hide your smile. “I guess I did.”
Preparation never hurt anyone.
“But if you’d rather hold off until tomorrow, I understand. I can even drive you back here if you want to wait,” he offered.
For a moment, you questioned if you should wait. As you bit your lip to fight your smile more and squeezed Andy’s hand, you made your decision. You signed the contract. You were more than ready.
Most of all, you deserved to start your path to a better future.
“I’m ready,” you assured him, reluctantly releasing his hand before you unbuckled your seatbelt. “Are you going in or did you want to wait here?”
“I’ll grab a coffee while I wait,” he said, stopping you as you reached for your door handle. “Allow me.”
You smiled to yourself as he went around to let you out. “Are you always a gentleman?”
“Not always,” he said without missing a beat, winking as you joined him on the sidewalk.
You licked your lips and gazed into his bright blue eyes. Could he see the want in yours? What would it take to make him lose control?
“I’m looking forward to seeing that side of you, Mr. Barber,” you smiled, brushing past him as he inhaled.
But first things first.
The bell rang as you walked inside and you paused to take it all in. Taking Andy’s earlier story to heart, you wouldn’t allow yourself to forget that this diner was part of your story. It not only led him to you, but also kept you from becoming homeless. It was a blessing.
“Hey,” Casey, one of the veteran servers, nodded to you from behind the counter before she looked over your outfit. She seemed to forget all about you as Andy as he walked in behind you. You didn't blame her. “Hi there. Sit anywhere you’d like.”
Andy put his hand on your lower back before he leaned in, your breath hitching slightly. “Good luck, honey,” he whispered, releasing you as Casey gawked in your direction. “I’ll just have a coffee, please,” he said as he took a seat at the counter.
The usual warmth Andy exuded was down a notch. Still friendly, but different. Or maybe you were just telling yourself that in order to feel special. “Is Sean here?”
“Yep. In the office,” Casey answered, pouring Andy a fresh cup of coffee. “Just got here.”
“I’ll be right back,” you told Andy, feeling his eyes on you as you headed through the employee only doors.
Sean had his head buried in some paperwork as he grumbled to himself. With a deep breath, you knocked on the open door. He didn't speak to you much outside of your shifts and hardly praised you for a job well done, but he wasn't a bad boss. You felt bad disturbing him, but it was now or never.
“Hi. May I come in?” You asked as he looked up.
“Yeah. Don't shut the door though. Lock’s broken,” he said, nodding to the chair in front of his desk. “Didn’t expect to see you today. What are you all dressed up for?”
“Oh, I had a meeting,” you answered, which wasn’t a lie. You did meet with Andy. “That’s actually what I needed to talk to you about.”
“A meeting?” He repeated with a frown. “Don’t tell me you’re quitting.”
Your stomach began to twist in knots. The last thing you wanted to do was disappoint your boss, even if he wouldn’t be that for much longer. Being a waitress also wasn’t your dream job, but it helped you when you needed it.
Now you have to help yourself.
“Yes, I am. I’m putting in my two weeks notice,” you said quietly, taking the letter out of your bag and placing it on the desk when he stared impassively. “I found another opportunity and I’m going to take it, but I’m happy to take any shifts I can over the next two weeks to help.”
Sean didn’t speak for a moment as he drummed his fingers on the desk. “Two weeks? No, that's not gonna work. We’re short as it is,” he said, shoving the paper away before he leaned back in his chair. Was he serious? “You're gonna have to make it four weeks and then we'll revisit after that to see if we need you to stay on longer.”
“No. I'm giving you two weeks,” you reiterated, your tone unwavering. You wouldn’t let Sean bully you into staying longer, even as guilt crept up since the place was short-staffed. “That's standard and I can't do more than that. I'm sorry.”
“Oh, no. I'm still in charge and you'll give me four weeks. That’s final,” he argued, waving his hand dismissively as you shrank a bit in your chair. “Unless you have anything else to add, I’ll see you next shift.”
You clasped your hands in your lap to keep from shaking. You didn't expect him to react this way. “No, that’s not final. I can't give you four weeks,” you said as calmly as possible, even as you began to feel more uncomfortable. “I would if I could, but I can't. I’m sorry.”
“Can't or won't?” Sean asked, almost making you jump as he raised his voice. “Listen here, you've been a solid employee and I'm not going to lose you in two weeks or four weeks. Do you understand? And if you don't show up you can forget about ever getting a good recommendation from me. Might as well kiss that ‘opportunity’ of yours goodbye.”
Your eyes burned as your mind flashed back to when you were told you were laid off from your previous job, the compassionate tone of your old boss the opposite of the man in front of you. The situations were different, but both made you feel so small. Especially since Sean was essentially threatening your future endeavors. You refused to cry though.
He wouldn’t witness your tears.
You cleared your throat and maintained your resolve. “Two weeks, Sean. That’s it. I said I’m willing to work as many shifts as I can over the next two weeks, but I can't do more than that. I won’t,” you firmly spoke as his eyes widened. “I really don't want to end this on a bad note, please.”
He pushed himself to his feet as he thrust a finger toward your face as if it would somehow make him appear intimidating to tower over you. It wouldn’t sway you. “Listen here, you little-”
“Is everything okay?”
Andy’s voice made both of you jump as you spun in your chair. He stood in the doorway but didn’t look your way. He trained his gaze on your boss, his normally bright eyes narrow and cold.
Your boss must’ve felt malice in that stare since he sat down immediately. “Oh. Mr. Barber,” he said. Did he know him as a regular customer or merely recognize his status? “It’s just an issue with an employee. This doesn’t concern you.”
“There is no issue,” you corrected him.
“Actually, she’s with me, so it does concern me,” Andy spoke as he took a step into the office, staring your boss down with a clenched jaw. The space no longer felt like Sean’s. It was as if Andy owned it along with everything in it. “If you want to raise your voice at someone, I’m right here. You won’t speak to her that way though. Do you understand?”
The deep timbre almost knocked the air out of your lungs, your heart pounding from Andy defending you.
Sean coughed a bit as color filled his cheeks. He should be embarrassed. “I didn’t realize she was with you. I wouldn’t have…” he trailed off.
Your blood simmered. He wouldn’t have raised his voice at you if he knew you were with Andy. Was this a taste of what things were going to be like? How people were going to treat you moving forward?
“Who she’s with shouldn’t matter. Not to mention, your customers and employees could hear you since your door was open,” Andy added, disappointment thickly laced in his voice. “You said she was a solid employee. Why would you speak to her like that?”
Sean’s eyes flickered to you as you waited for an answer. “We’ve been short-staffed and I’ve been stressing over it. That’s no excuse. I'm sorry,” he said to Andy, making your blood go from simmering to boiling. A customer, a powerful man, got the apology, but not you. “Won’t happen again.”
“Maybe remind yourself to be kind to the people who work for you before you raise your voice again. They’re the ones who keep your business running,” Andy said.
With a hang of his head, your boss sighed. “Two weeks, huh?” He asked, the wind completely out of his sails as you nodded. “Okay. Two weeks it is.”
“Thanks,” you whispered before Andy walked over and held out his hand to help you to your feet. Luckily, you didn’t tremble as you took it and gave it a small squeeze. It was nice that he was on your side.
“And one more thing?” Andy added as Sean glanced up. “I’m not the one you should apologize to.”
You held up your other hand when Sean looked your way and opened his mouth. “No. The only reason you’re going to say you’re sorry is because he’s here,” you stated, looking at Andy momentarily. He responded with an encouraging smile. “And I don’t want an empty apology. You can keep it.”
It was nice that Andy wanted an apology on your behalf, but it wouldn't feel believable.
Sean’s face fell, but he didn’t argue. Up until today, he treated you decently. The pressures of running a business were tough, but he had no reason to take it out on you. At the same time, you felt bad for him.
“But thank you, Sean. You gave me a job when I needed one and I won’t forget that,” you added gently. “I’ll see you next shift.”
“Why don't I meet you outside? I just want one more quick word with your boss,” Andy said as Sean audibly swallowed.
Uh-oh.
“Sure,” you said, the knots in your gut unraveling as you left the two of them alone.
You exhaled as you walked back into the dining area, avoiding the gazes from a few of the customers. Your hand shook as you gave Casey a small wave. At least she didn’t look upset with you.
“Quitting, huh? Lucky duck,” she smiled sadly. “You okay? He had no right speaking to you like that.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you nodded, taking another breath. You didn't like anyone raising their voice at you, but you wouldn't allow yourself to dwell on it and didn’t need her to worry. All you could do was make the transition as smooth as possible over the next two weeks. “Didn't expect that kind of reaction. Didn’t expect anyone out here to hear it.”
“Sean’s voice carries and he’s probably just pissed that he’s losing another good one while he’s stuck here,” she guessed, glancing over her shoulder before she added in a whisper, “Oh, and that guy you’re with? He looked furious when he heard him.”
“He did?” You asked, an almost goofy smile appearing on your face.
“Yeah, he did. He had fire in his eyes. Put a bill down, got to his feet, and immediately walked back there. And I wasn’t about to stop him,” she said, her smile widening as she leaned on the counter. “I’d say he’s smitten.”
Your heart skipped a beat. First Estelle, now Casey. Though the latter had no clue about the arrangement. “He’s really something, isn't he?”
“Oh, yeah,” Casey said, straightening up when the employee door swung open.
Andy’s eyes landed on you as he walked through, his eyes soft again as he held out his hand. He also looked pleased with himself. “Ready?”
“Ready,” you said, taking it as you gave Casey a nod. “I’ll see you soon. Hope the rest of your shift is okay.”
“Me, too. See ya,” she said before she went back to assisting other customers.
“You okay?” Andy asked softly as he led you outside.
“I’m fine,” you promised, not wanting him to worry either or get upset. “But what did you say to Sean?”
“Nothing for you to worry about,” he answered, shaking his head. “Listen, I’m sorry if I overstepped by intervening. I just couldn’t let him talk to you like that.”
He easily deflected your question and you decided to let him have that victory for now.
You went in for a hug but kept space for him to breathe. He wrapped his arms tightly around you before you could pull away, your body melting into his. The bustling city around you faded as you focused on the warmth of his firm body. It made you forget all about Sean’s reaction.
“I’m glad you did,” you said, stepping back with a tiny smile. It meant the world that he defended you. “I tried to hold my own.”
“You did. You could've snapped back or walked out, but you didn't. That’s commendable and powerful,” he assured you, his gaze serious. “But I don't care if it’s your boss or a stranger or your best friend, I’m not about to let someone take their frustrations out on you.”
Warmth settled in your chest. You learned something else about Andy today: He truly wouldn't tolerate anyone disrespecting you. He continued to prove that he was a man of his word.
You also experienced firsthand how things worked in his world, how people would bend toward his will. If it was a test, you wouldn’t say you failed since you stood up for yourself. It wouldn’t always be that easy. Whether someone questioned your motives or place with Andy or not, you had to learn to grow a thick skin. Not just for your own benefit, but Andy’s, too.
He needed someone strong by his side.
“Thank you, Andy.”
“And, listen, if you don’t want to work those shifts or if he gives you a hard time-”
“I’ll be fine,” you promised. You doubted Sean would make it a hostile work environment, but you could handle it if there were any issues. “But I think I’d like to go home now.”
Andy blinked and gave you a single nod. “Sure. If that’s what you want.”
Is he disappointed at the thought of me ending the day right now?
You smiled as you tugged him in the direction of his car. “I’d also like you to see my place,” you said, his eyebrows shooting up. It surprised you that you offered, too. “It isn't much, but it’s comfortable. Maybe we can order takeout?”
It wasn’t exactly the ideal way to celebrate, but he shared a piece of himself on the drive over. The least you could do was let him see your apartment. And who knew where the evening would take you?
“Only if you’ll let me pay,” he smiled.
“You're not going to let me pay for anything, are you?” You smiled back.
“Not if I can help it,” he replied, opening the car door. “Let's get you home, honey.”
We all need a man like Andy. And what's going to happen at the apartment? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#andy barber x reader#andy barber x female reader#andy barber x female!reader#andy barber x you#andy barber x y/n#andy barber x fem!reader#andy barber x f!reader#andy barber#sugar daddy!andy barber#sugar daddy!andy barber x reader#terms and conditions au#sugar daddy au#andy barber fanfiction#andy barber imagine#andy barber au#andy barber fic#chris evans#chris evans characters#chris evans x reader#chris evans x female reader#chris evans x you
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With Your Touch, Part 1
Summary: You were supposed to be living a normal life. Perfect boyfriend, just graduated college, and ready to start your new life. Until you met him. Brooding and imposing unless his daughter is around. You knew nothing about babies, but he knew less. Tension builds, feelings flare up, but are they just because he looks extremely sexy when he's soft? Could it be because you are falling for this princess of a baby girl before him? Is it because when he's in town you're too close? The money is good, and yet his attention is better.
Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Reader
Rating: mild
Warnings: language, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 4.1K
Series Masterlist
*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
Lloyd scowls as he watches the scene in front of him. The crease between his brows is extra deep. He hates working in the field almost as much as he hates watching it. Idiots. He was surrounded by incompetent idiots.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” His fist slams on the table. How many shots have to be fired before they secure their target. “He’s right fucking there! Shoot his ass!”
“Lloyd,” a timid man says behind him, and Lloyd’s eyes never leave the monitors. “Mr. Hansen?”
“I don’t want to do this myself, but I fucking will! Levinson, get ready to go!” More rounds of bullets, and still the target was missed. “What the fuck is this?”
“Lloyd!”
His body goes rigid as he turns to look at the small man who is shivering. Eyes downcast to the floor so he doesn’t look at the towering man. “Why the hell are you addressing me?”
“We have a problem.”
“No, shit, Sherlock. I have two teams of mercenaries after one target, and he’s not been shot. What the fuck else could be wrong?” He leans over a bit looking at the man. “Well?”
“Who the hell brought a baby?” Ari asks, staring down at a pitiful little carrier. An envelope beside the small bundle, and her bright green eyes stare up at the large man. “This isn’t bring your daughter to work day,” her face cracks a moment as she searches his face. Lips puckering out before a scream radiates through the makeshift office. “Make it stop!”
“Where the fuck did a baby come from?” Lloyd snaps a finger at another man to take over the original issue at hand. He just needs the target killed, and he can go home for a bit. “What is this?”
Ari’s hands slap on the side of his head covering his ears, but his foot tilts the carrier to rock it a bit, but still she wails. Seeing how no one attempts to help out, or get the baby to stop, Lloyd assumes this is something he’s going to have to take care of. What else was new? Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he leans down to grab up the letter. Crumpling it up before looking down at the baby. “Mother fucker.”
Your fingers run over the empty shelves in your dorm room. Graduation has finally happened, and now it is time to leave your mark on the world. Your father didn’t bother to show up for your graduation because why would he? He never showed up personally in your life. Not really. He always made sure that everything was paid for though. It could be worse, right?
You try not to complain about your father, or your family. You had more than most and should be grateful. But then some people had attention. Sighing, you grab up your bag, and look towards the door.
“Chase,” whispering, you walk over to him, and lay your head on his chest. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I don’t know why you feel so attached to this dorm room, honey.”
“Because it was my home,” you’re sure he didn’t fully understand, which was okay, you never bothered to explain. You kept your family dynamics quiet. He never asked why you were so quick to visit with his family for the holiday, just enjoyed you being there.
His warm arms wrap around you, and he holds you in a tight embrace. He wasn’t quite comfort, but he is sweet. He means well, and did what he could for the information that you provided to him. But this dorm room was the closet you had to a home. You had good memories here. Friends that were more like family, and now it’s gone.
You groan when the stupid sound of your absent father’s ringtone sounds off. Maybe he is actually calling to congratulate you for wasting his money on a degree that he deemed pointless. He. It probably wouldn’t matter what you did, it’d never be good enough for him.
“You gonna get that?”
“Do I have to?” You complain looking up at Chase. His mouth lifts to the side, and he nods his head. He is right. You should talk to him and quit hiding. You didn’t know what he was going to say or do. “I’ll be waiting in the car.”
“So the kid is yours?” Ari looks down at the car seat, watching the little baby cry, no one attempting to soothe or comfort her. Lloyd squats down and rubs his thumb over her cheek, and she struggles to breathe from her tears. “Are you going to hold it?”
“Can you stop referring to my daughter like she’s a thing?”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Ari answers sarcastically. “Then pick her up. What is her name?”
“Clara told me to name her. She didn’t bother naming her. What…what do I do?” He looks up at his friend, showing the tiniest bit of emotion. “I don’t know anything about babies.”
“Start by holding her.”
“You hold her,” Lloyd is a lot of things but nurturing is far from one of them. He was a man that didn’t make mistakes, but clearly, he messed up somewhere. Of all the women he had been with only one was he stupid enough to knock up. But the way Lloyd is staring at her would suggest he almost wanted a baby.
“This is so fuck…this is so stupid. Clean up your mouth. She isn’t old enough to talk yet, but she will be,” Ari gets down to his knees, starting to remove the straps over her body. “She’s a pitiful little thing. Shh, girlie, you’re scaring your daddy before he’s properly got to look at you. There ya go,” he coos, holding the tiny girl up against his chest. Her cries soften a bit. He wonders when the last time she felt loved, because her body moves around feeling more of him.
“What’s wrong with her?” Both Ari and Lloyd’s noes turn up in disgust as they smell her. “She’s not been bathed?”
“That’s poop, Lloyd. We can’t have a baby here,” that is something Ari is certain of. Not only was this not a place for babies, he didn’t want to have to smell the baby smells.
“I didn’t ask for the baby. She was dropped on the mother fucking steps. Clara. I’ll kill that dumb trollop. Never trust desperate women. She doesn’t want money. She just didn’t want the baby. And I need her to have a name, so I’m not just calling her the baby. Ari, name her.”
“I’m not naming your spawn. She’s born of you, you name her. And my god, you gotta change this diaper, and figure out what you’re going to do in order for us to not have to deal with a baby like this. What the hell do you want?”
Lloyd turns to look at one of the analysts standing in the doorway. His thick rimmed glasses, and quiet demeanor made him one of Lloyd’s favorites. He was trustworthy, and smart. Quick. One of the few people Lloyd didn’t want to strangle. “Roman, what do you need? We’re dealing with someone.”
“You need an au pair.”
“What the hell is that?”
“It…it’s someone that will live in your home, and care for the child. They could teach them another language, and…”
“Sounds like a wife. Do I get to fuck them? Does she talk back to me?” Roman shakes his head no, wanting to say more, but doesn’t want to risk his job. He had the perfect person to help Lloyd with his little problem. “Where does one find an au pair?”
“I know someone that just recently graduated, and she speaks French. She has a degree in art history, and…”
“I need her at my house immediately,” Roman acts as if he’s about to say something until Lloyd cocks up a brow, “I will pay her handsomely.”
“You’re keeping the baby?” Ari’s answer comes in the form of Lloyd reaching towards the baby. Turning up his nose at the stench, but he holds her gently. Tenderly. He gives her a quick peck on her head. “He’s keeping the baby. Roman, call whoever. Sounds like the amount of money is not an issue.”
Staring up at the posh apartment buildings, and squeezing Chase’s hand, you wonder how you even got here. Your father didn’t do anything but give you money. You didn’t even know him. Didn’t know what he even did to make the money. And now you are taking orders from him. Allowed him to make you feel like shit for your education.
“You don’t have to listen to him,” Chase says calmly. Slipping his hand out of yours, he turns to look directly at you. “You’re a grown woman, you don’t have to listen to what daddy says.”
“Don’t call him that,” your father didn’t earn that name. That’s exactly what you called him, father. “I mean look at it, there could be worse places to live.”
“Yeah, and you’re caring for a child that isn’t yours. And where’s her parents? How often will you have this child?”
“I’m going to live with them.”
“That’s another thing, I don’t exactly like the idea that you live with them. Who are them?”
“It’s a need to know basis,” you mumble. Finally finding your footing you take a step forward. It was now or never and it seemed like it was going to be now. What did you actually have to lose? This was a guaranteed job. It’s not like you had to stay. The pay was great. And how hard could one baby be?
You were going into this job with a house, great pay, and it seemed somewhat cushy. “You’re just going to be giving another child a life without their parents.”
“And just think where I would have been without my nanny,” you spit out, feeling a bit more protective of a child that you haven't met. It wasn’t her fault anymore than it was yours. Children should be loved and taken care of, and that’s what you are going to do.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know you didn’t. You don’t have to go with me if you don’t approve,” sighing, Chase follows you as you walk into the building. Following the exact instructions you were given from your father. You didn’t know what you were walking into. It was just a job after all.
Neither you or Chase say another thing. He definitely could feel your irritation at the need to insert what he thought he knew about your life. Your life wasn’t horrible. You just didn’t have your parents. Especially not your father. He had a business. And whatever he did afforded you a charmed life.
Seems like this child was getting the same treatment. And if you could give her the life that your amazing nanny gave you, then you feel like you’re giving it back. You didn’t see yourself as a teacher, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. And it was just one small baby. Eventually she would be going to school, and that’s if you even stayed that long.
Attention was everything when it came to children. If you said no, and this was apparently an emergency, what would happen to this child? Every child deserves a good life.
You don’t fully bother knocking on the door. Just punch in the code to the apartment, and Chase tugs at your arm. He isn’t as comfortable with this as you are. Your father gave you the code, Lloyd didn’t want you to knock, he wants you to make yourself comfortable. Your eyes go wide as you look around.
You could see the house at one point was pristine, but now it’s chaotic. Empty boxes are everywhere, but all of them seem to be items for the child. Your father told you she was a baby, but not how new she was. Tiptoeing deeper into the apartment, Chase pulls you back into him.
“Announce yourself. This is weird.”
“Mr. Hansen?” The sweetest little baby gurgle comes from the next room, and you look up at Chase. “That’s a real baby, handsome. Can I go meet my employer now?”
“I’m right here. Scream if you need me.”
“Mr. Hansen?” You ask again, looking into the first room. It is an even bigger disaster. Stuff was everywhere. The room has so much potential, but why does everything seem new? “Mr. Hansen, do you need help?”
He needs a lot of help. Could barely tend to his own child. His movements seem very rigid and unsure of himself. “Yeah, I think she peed. She has on the diapers that change color when wet, but…I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“I babysat a few times,” it’s a bit of a stretch. They weren’t babies. But you’ve seen some movies. Read some things, “Let me see. Hey there, cutie,” she looks like she could break hearts. She is angelic. Chubby little legs, and the biggest dimples in her cheeks. Completely toothless with the prettiest bright green eyes and long lashes. “I think you’ve overwhelmed your daddy. Did you recently just get custody?”
There had to be a reason for this mess. But he went and spent a ton of money trying to give his daughter everything she needed and could ever want. “I just recently found out about her,” that took an unexpected turn. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t have the time to really devote to her, but I don’t want her to do without, and…I’m in over my head.”
So he was a bit like your father. But he seems to currently be more hands on than your father was. It was cute, in a completely not weird way at all. Lloyd was older than you. A full grown man while you had only just graduated college. “I’m not an interior designer, but I know some. The apartment is a mess, I’m aware. Lyla needs so much, and this place was just here. I never took the time to do anything. So me and my partner ordered everything we could think of. I don’t think she needs everything we got, but she could. She has her bed, and her diapers, and there’s a box of formula and food in the kitchen. Her food should be there, right? I don’t think she plays with toys yet, but there’s some somewhere.”
“Is this a Dior stroller?”
“I was told it was a pram,” you stare at him, trying not to giggle. The fact that it was Dior was the more silly part. “I can’t do what I do and have her there it’s dangerous.”
“What do you do?”
“Don’t ask,” the look he gives you makes you take a step back, gawking up at him when you realize his size. He is tall. Arms that are thick and hard as steel. His shoulders are wider than your entire body, “Lyla will be provided for, and because of that so will you. Whatever you need. I’ll leave a card for you. I won’t be able to personally get all your…well, all your needs. So this seems like the best option.”
“My needs? Like food?”
“Uh, I know that you women have things you need,” he’s an idiot. “I’ll give you a check, so this looks legit, but I can provide all your special woman needs,” huge idiot.
“Yeah, I can get my ‘womanly needs’ with my paycheck. Do…how often are you going to be here if I’m living here?”
He puffs out a bit of air, and he fully gives you attention. His daughter now has a changed diaper, and he cradles her sweetly. Some stupid expensive silver teething toy in her mouth, and his eyes roam over your entire body. He’s a bit too handsome to be a father, and one that just so happened to be your employer. His eyes are too blue, and his arms look too thick, and you gulp, clenching your thighs together. What the fuck was this witchcraft?
“Every night if possible. I typically work remotely, but sometimes I do have to go out of the country, and that leads to a few days to a week without me coming home to you and Lyla,” is he smirking? You shouldn’t feel so small and taken aback, but your stomach erupts with annoying butterflies with how hard he’s staring at you.
“Would you like to see your room? It’s next to the baby’s. My bedroom is in the front of the apartment, just off the living room. So I’ll be the first to the door. Absolutely no one in this apartment. I don’t trust people. Especially not around my child, and I guess now you come into my protection. If you need to know the apartment is in another name. I have a tendency to create a lot of enemies, and I try to keep things here as safe as possible.”
Lloyd freezes when he hears Chase sneeze. Handing you the baby, he covers you and her with his body in such a quick motion it takes your breath away. Your loss of breathing had nothing to do with his weight digging into your skin, and you surely don’t let out an odd sound that has him giving you a quick wink.
“That would be my boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend? Roman didn’t say anything about a boyfriend.”
“Roman doesn’t even know when my birthday is. Do you have a problem with Chase being here?”
“What kind of name is Chase?” With your free hand, you shove him off you. You didn’t need him that close to you. “Honestly, what kind of name is that? And I said nobody visits.”
“You just told me that. He traveled here with me because he didn’t trust that I was coming to some apartment with some weird man that lured me here under false pretense just so he could murder me.”
“I don’t lure women here. This is a safe space for my daughter. I need you to make him leave,” Lloyd didn’t need to lure women. When he wanted a woman he could have one. And wanting a woman led to him becoming a father.
“But I don’t want to be here alone with a baby that can’t talk,” his eyes narrow at you. It is like you and Lloyd are playing a tit for tat game. Going back and forth of why Chase shouldn’t be here, and why you need him here. “He has a job. He works at an IT firm. Would you really want me here alone and by myself? What if someone comes here to attack me? Then Lyla is left all alone.”
“I’ve taken precautions that this would never happen. When you’re on the clock, Lyla is your only priority,” that made you feel slightly uneasy. You had to make a note to check the neighbors. Getting a feeling that someone was tasked with watching and listening to you and Lyla.
“When am I off the clock?”
“When I am here. Unless,” he gives you that eat shit grin again, shaking his head. Is he actually flirting with you, “I shouldn’t say that, sunshine. So what should Lyla call you? Nanny seems a bit too old and mature for someone sweet like you.”
“Why not my name?” He contemplates that for a moment, looking down at his little baby who stares up at you. If babies could talk, you wonder what she is thinking of.
“Dolly.”
“What?”
“I want her to call you, Dolly. Her Dolly. Ooh, yes, I like that. Let’s see what I should do about this boyfriend,” spinning on his heels Lloyd walks down the hallway, stopping the moment he sees Chase. Your boyfriend stands up immediately, holding out his hand for Lloyd to shake.
“I don’t like you.”
“I’m sorry?” Chase looks towards you holding the baby, and takes a quick gulp. Lloyd’s eyes go between the two of you before sidestepping in front of you. His wide body blocking Chase from looking in your direction. “What is this?”
“Chase, let's get something straight, when I’m not here, Dolly is on the clock.”
“Her name isn’t Dolly.”
“When I’m here, I’ll allow her to come and go as she pleases, but just like Miss Dolly, I need to get a background check on you. I don’t want just anybody to have access to my daughter, and her au pair. And absolutely under no circumstance will you be sleeping under my roof. This is my home, and my daughter’s, and I don’t need stupid boys coming in here and tainting that,” he turns to look at you. Giving you no time at all to process exactly what he is saying. He couldn’t be serious.
“Remember, I own your father. I also own you. I’m offering you money that you can’t refuse because he just cut you off, and you’re used to a certain lifestyle. I’m providing that for you. And I don’t want limp dicks in my home. Have I made myself clear?”
“You can’t do that.”
“I can do whatever I want, Dolly. I’m Lloyd fucking Hansen. If I want to cut every single finger off your father’s hands, I will. You can either have me as your employer or your enemy. And if you walk out that door with that boy, you will be my enemy. I’m not saying you can’t date him, I’m saying I don’t want him in my house or around my daughter. Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes,” his head tilts forward, and his piercing blue eyes give you a look. A look you can’t exactly explain, but it makes you feel things. Makes you ready to do whatever it is he told you to do. “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl. Get rid of the boyfriend.”
“But you’re here.”
“And so are you. There’s no need for him to linger around, while you move in. This is just an introduction, sweetheart. I need to walk you through all the boring stuff about your job. I’ll pay you extra if you get Lyla’s bedroom situated. This place is a complete disaster, and I can’t stand it. Get rid of him,” reaching towards Lyla, he walks back down the hallway to her room, and you give Chase an awkward smile.
“Come on, he can find someone else to be the au pair.”
“I need to see this through, Chase,” he tries interrupting you. Like he usually does, but you shake your head. You did need this job. None of the other places you applied at have called you back. “I need this job. It won’t be forever. And once I get settled in, and have my first day off, I’ll spend it with you.”
“You’re really going to let him talk to you like you’re his property?”
“No, I’m not. But I see myself in that little baby, and she needs me. He doesn’t know what to do.”
“Do you?” Nope. You had no idea about babies. You didn’t even have siblings. But your bags that were in Chase’s cars had a few books with some ideas on what to do. You’d figure it out along the way. Plus, you had this odd desire to understand your dad’s job, and also what exactly Lloyd did. How did a man that instilled so much fear in you also have a soft spot for his daughter?
“You’ll call if you want to leave? No questions asked, I’ll come and get you?”
“No questions asked,” you promise, kissing his lips softly. His hands cup your ass, and Lloyd glares at him down the hallway. How did Roman allow you to grow up and be disrespected in a stranger’s home? You allowed him to kiss down your neck, and neither of you even knew he was watching.
Lloyd would never let Lyla be treated like that. He wished he could make her not get any bigger. He liked the idea of having a woman in his home. Even if it wasn’t the way that a traditional family had it, who knew what the future held. You wanted to please him. Even told Chase it was time for him to leave. He still had it.
Chase pulls off your neck, and notices Lloyd watching you. His hands slip into your back pockets, and he gives your ass a bit of a squeeze, “Who’s girl are you?”
“I’m yours, Chase. Now go on, I’ll call you later,” his eyes flick over to Lloyd, who ventures into Lyla’s room. Going to lay her down for her nap as he tries to think of ways to get rid of Chase. He is an asshole. A cocky one at that. Unfortunately he reminded Lloyd of himself. And there is only enough room in your life for one asshole.
Next
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#with your touch#au pair au#babysitter au#lloyd hansen#lloyd hansen x reader#lloyd hansen x fem!reader#lloyd hansen female reader#lloyd hansen x y/n#lloyd hansen x you#lloyd hansen fanfiction#lloyd hansen fanfic#lloyd hansen fic#lloyd hansen fics#chris evans#chris evans character#the gray man
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More Than This 1
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader
Word Count: ~4.1k
Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.
Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, a very brief conversation about the possibility of abuse, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Masterlist
A/N: And here we go! A huge thanks to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me nail down some of the worldbuilding details and @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and especially telling me how to fix the scene that refused to be fixed. You're both the best!!
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜
It was uncommon to be called to your stepfather’s office. The high rise on the edge of Studio City had housed the heads of his family since the silent film era, give or take a remodel and expansion or five. You’d only been here a handful of times, mostly left out of the family business. When his assistant opened the door for you, you were surprised to see a small group of people, all in expensive business attire, surrounding your stepdad, Joseph Rogers, at his desk. Even more surprising was the figure standing in the corner, staring out the window – your mother.
“Mom?” you asked, unable to hide your confusion. She just gave you a tight smile in return and turned her attention to her husband.
“Sweetheart,” he called to you. It’s what he’d called you since you’d first met him as a child and it had always felt patronizing and empty. You were well aware that you were an annoyance he’d been saddled with when he’d married your mother for her late first husband’s connections. Eighteen years later, you wished he’d drop the pretense already. “Please, have a seat,” he gestured to the leather chair in front of his large oak desk.
You sat down across from him. “What’s going on?” you asked, an uneasy feeling building in your gut.
“Congratulations are in order,” he said, smiling at you. “You’re engaged.”
Years of experience at bullshit industry and society parties had you pasting on a benign smile. This was your fourth, no fifth engagement, the first one dating all the way back to when you were 10. They’d all dissolved for one reason or another, the business arrangements at the heart of them disintegrating too. But looking around the room at all the extra people in attendance, you knew better than to dismiss this outright. You were older now. Many of your friends from school had found themselves married as part of business deals in the last few years. Love matches were uncommon in the circles you frequented. There wasn’t much patience for love when this much money was at stake. But still, just because it was expected, that didn’t make you any more ready for your turn.
“That’s wonderful,” you said, putting all your effort into keeping your tone even. “May I ask whom I’m engaged to?”
“Ransom Drysdale,” Joseph said. “He’s the grandson of Harlan Thrombey, the mystery writer. We’ve been trying to secure the movie rights to his works for years and this should finally cement it. It’s fantastic news for our family and this studio. The joining of our families should create many opportunities for all of us. Ransom is one of the most eligible bachelors in Boston. You should feel very lucky.”
Lucky was the last thing you felt right now, but you kept your face schooled as you ran through your mental Rolodex to try to figure out if you had any social connections to this man. The fact that he lived on the other side of the country made it less likely but not impossible.
“So,” he continued, sliding a stack of papers across his desk to you, “all you need to do is sign and initial the contract where it’s marked, and we can get started finalizing the details for the wedding next month.”
At that, all your poise disappeared and the smile dropped off your face. “Next month?”
Joseph nodded. “It’s important to strike while the iron is hot with deals like this. So go ahead and sign so that we can all move on to the next stage.”
Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. This was happening. This one was real. “Shouldn’t I read it first?” you asked, somewhat desperately.
He shook his head, “No need,” he said, gesturing to the man you recognized as one of the family lawyers standing beside him. “Julian has already gone through it with a fine-toothed comb. All of our interests are well represented. It’s all in legalese anyway. Impossible to understand if you aren’t a lawyer.” He chuckled and many of the people standing around the desk, staring at you, joined him.
“I just–” you stammered. You didn’t know what to do, but you knew you couldn’t pick up that pen.
Irritation bloomed on your stepfather’s face. “Lydia!” he called.
Your mother stopped staring out the window and stepped up to your chair. “Honey,” she said gently, putting her hand on your back. “This will be such a good thing. And then we can get to all the fun parts of planning the wedding!” She picked up the pen and held it out to you. You took a moment to look at her. Her features were drawn and her eyes looked exhausted. She’d looked that way as long as you could remember. It did nothing to reassure you.
You glanced at the door behind you. You knew you weren’t getting out of this room without signing the contract. You took a deep breath and took the pen from your mother. There was nothing else to do. No other choice. You quickly flipped through the papers, initialing where indicated and signing the last page. Your hand was shaking so badly you weren’t sure any of it was legible.
When you turned over the last page, Joseph clapped his hands together. “Excellent!” He took a large binder off the desk and passed it over to you. “We’ve put some information together for you on your new fiance. Ransom will be in town next week to take you to dinner so that the two of you can get to know each other. Now, I’m sure you want to go celebrate, so we won’t keep you any longer.”
At the clear dismissal, you stood up. Many people in the room offered their congratulations and you nodded to them, forcing a strained smile. Then you made your way out on shaky legs, needing to see the one person who might be able to help you process what had just happened.
You’d been six years old when you and your mother had moved into the Rogers mansion. You were terrified, already able to sense Joseph’s indifference towards you. But your comfort during that time, and all the time after, had been his son, Steve. Twelve years old, still reeling from the death of his mother and just as deeply lonely as you, he’d named himself your protector, shielding you from his father’s annoyance and your mother’s sorrow. He guarded you from monsters when you woke up in the middle of the night after a nightmare and would stare down your bullies on the playground. You were very quickly inseparable.
When you became engaged the first time when you were ten, sixteen-year-old Steve had taken you out for ice cream, telling you not to worry too much, there was so much time before anything would happen and that everything would be ok. When the arrangement had fallen apart, he’d hugged you and whispered in your ear, “See? I’m always right.”
That was the memory you couldn’t stop thinking about as you let yourself into your stepbrother’s apartment, using the key he’d given you on the day he’d moved in. He wasn’t in his front room, so you moved all the way to the back, to the spare room he used as an art studio. You lightly knocked on the doorframe as you entered, trying not to startle him. He was standing with his hands on his hips, staring at a half-finished painting, but looked over his shoulder as soon as he heard you. There was a warm smile on his face, but it dropped as soon as he took in your expression. “What happened?” he asked as you flopped down onto his couch.
“I think I might be really fucked, Steve,” you said quietly, your hands still shaking. You couldn’t get them to stop.
“What happened?” he asked again, more forcefully this time, as he dragged a chair from the corner of the room so that he could sit right across from you.
“Your dad, he–” You stopped and shook your head. Steve’s face darkened. “I’m engaged,” you said with a helpless shrug.
“Okay,” he said evenly. “That might not be the most dire thing. You’ve been engaged before. Nothing ever comes of it.”
You sighed. “They’ve set a date this time.”
“Oh,” was all he could say at first, surprise on his face. “That’s new.”
“Yeah.” you nodded. “A month from now.”
That had Steve sitting up straight. “The hell?!”
“It’s happening this time. I can feel it.”
“Hey, no,” he said, reaching out to touch your arm. “Let me try to talk some sense into him. Buy you some time. He might listen to me.”
You shook your head. “Everything’s already signed. They made me sign. I don’t think there’s any getting out of it.”
“He give you a name?”
“Ransom Drysdale.”
Before he was able to stop himself, Steve grimaced.
“Fuck,” you muttered, briefly covering your face with your hands.
“No, it’s– I’ve only met him once or twice, ok? I don’t actually know anything about him.”
“But you don’t like him.”
“He’s–” Steve paused, clearly trying to find the words that wouldn’t upset you even more, “a strong personality.” He looked at you carefully. “And he’s older than you. Older than me, even.”
“I know,” you sighed, reaching for your bag and taking out the folder. “They gave me this.”
You handed it to Steve and he paged through it. “This is intense. Do you think they gave him one about you?”
You shrugged. “Dunno. Probably. Can’t imagine it says anything interesting.”
Steve nodded, seriously. “It’s probably pretty thin. Just the story of that time you completely freaked out when you weren’t allowed to bring Mr. BunBun to school with you.”
You grabbed the pillow next to you and hurled it at him. “You’re such a dick!” you laughed. “I’m very upset!”
He batted the pillow back at you and cackled when it hit you in the chest. “He deserves to know the kind of person he’s marrying. The kind who throws a five-alarm tantrum when she’s separated from her stuffed bunny.”
“I was eight, asshole!” You laughed again but then your brain caught on something Steve had said. “Holy shit, he’s marrying me. I’m getting married. I don’t know anything about him. He could be anyone. You don’t even like him! He could hurt me and–”
“Hey, no!” Steve interrupted quickly. “I might not know much, but I know that. He won’t do that. I’m sure of it. And if he ever even tried, I’d be there so fast. They’d never find his body.”
“Will he be kind to me?” you asked quietly. He opened his mouth to say something, but you stopped him. “Be honest with me. Please.”
He sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Well,” you said, trying so hard not to cry, “I guess at least now we know exactly how your dad feels about me.”
Steve closed his eyes and quietly said your name. When he opened them, there was a resolved look on his face that was painfully familiar. His ‘I’m going to fix this’ face. He was intractable when he got like this. He set his jaw. “I’m going to talk to Dad.”
You shook your head. “Steve.” Your stepfather was just as intractable as his son. This would only result in a shouting match that wouldn’t go anywhere.
“It’s going to be alright,” he said resolutely.
All you could do was say “OK,” with a wan smile, knowing it was a lie. You lay down on the couch and curled up on your side. “Do you mind if I stay here for a bit?”
“Of course not. Lola good on her own for a while?”
You nodded. Your little dog was probably asleep in her kennel. “Yeah, for a while.”
“Do you mind if I keep working on this?” he asked, gesturing to his painting.
“I like watching you paint,” you said, trying to find comfort in the familiarity of something you’d done since you were small.
He stood up and turned back to his easel, and you did your best to focus on watching him paint and not think about how, if this went through, you’d have to move to Boston and you wouldn’t get to have this time with your brother anymore.
As expected, Steve’s talk with Joseph yielded no results when it came to your future. The only thing it seemed to have any effect on was their own relationship, Steve announcing to you that he was no longer speaking to his father the next time you saw him. You hadn’t expected anything else.
For your part, you spent the next week vacillating between going overboard preparing for your first meeting with Ransom—pouring over your folder on him, making salon appointments, shopping for a dress that would make the right impression—and pretending your problems didn’t exist. As such, the day of the dinner still snuck up on you. You were a nervous wreck.
The plan was for him to pick you up at your apartment, but an hour before he was supposed to arrive, you got a text from an unfamiliar number telling you to meet him at the restaurant instead.
So now you sat at the table, alone, in a new dress with your hair done. You’d arrived ten minutes early, and he was now 20 minutes late. You took a deep breath, staring at the empty seat across from you. He would show up. He had to.
Another ten minutes passed and, as you waived off the server for a third time, you let yourself consider what it would mean if your future husband had stood you up. You should go. It’d be pathetic to stay. And even if he did show up after you’d gone, it’d make a point. Show you had a backbone. You should definitely go.
Just as your hand began to inch toward your handbag on the table, the hostess came through, leading a tall, handsome man to your table. She stopped beside you and then ducked away. The man looked at you critically. He said your name like a question and, when you nodded, he sat down. He didn’t introduce himself, but he could only be Ransom.
He was dressed nicely in an expensive sweater and slacks, but much more casually than you were and looking around the restaurant than most of the other people there, too. And when he sat down, you could see the places in his sweater where it was threadbare or torn. You tried very hard to not take it as a sign of how he felt about this dinner, felt about you.
You cleared your throat to say something, you weren’t entirely sure what when he glanced at your glass of water. “You don’t drink?”
“No, I do,” you said, but when he smirked you realized how that sounded. “I can,” you amended, but that sounded odd too. “I mean, I don’t have anything against it. I was just waiting for you.”
He snorted. “Well, aren’t you polite?” His tone made it feel like the worst thing you could possibly be. He flagged down the server and ordered a glass of the Macallan 18, then huffed impatiently while you asked questions about their wine selection. You didn’t know how he could be half an hour late and make you feel bad for taking your time ordering.
Once you’d finally made your choice and the server left, you tried not to squirm as he gave you a once-over with his eyes. You felt disappointing without really knowing why. You tried to shrug off the feeling, but then Ransom said, “How old even are you?” with scorn in his voice.
You cleared your throat. “Twenty-four,” you tried to say with confidence.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.
You did your best not to shrink in on yourself. Maybe he was just nervous too. It was a weird situation. But, “Didn’t they tell you about me?”
He snorted again and rolled his eyes. “Gave me a whole binder. I never opened it.”
You looked down at your empty place setting, embarrassed. You’d studied every inch of what they’d given you, hoping to show him how seriously you were taking this and he couldn’t care less. “Oh,” was all you were able to say.
He grinned a little meanly. “You got one too, didn’t you? Don’t tell me you’ve memorized facts about me that you were ready to rattle off to impress me.”
“No,” you growled out. You weren’t going to let him make you feel small just for trying to show interest in the person you were going to have to spend the rest of your life with.
He swiped one hand over his mouth and chin. “My god,” he muttered, “this whole thing is fucking ridiculous.”
The waitress came back and set down your drinks. Ransom immediately took a large gulp of his scotch. You itched to do the same, but you suddenly felt like proving a point. Even if you weren’t entirely sure what that point was.
You were ready to order, but Ransom hadn’t glanced at his menu yet. Just as you were about to ask for a few more minutes, he said, “Go ahead and bring me another one of these right away,” and gestured with his drink in dismissal. She nodded and left.
Fuck it, you let yourself take a large drink of your wine. “Do you know what you’re going to have?” you asked, nodding to his menu.
He shook his head. “I have dinner plans after this.”
Heat shot through your whole body. “I thought these were the dinner plans.”
He rolled his eyes again. “Getting a head start on the nagging?” he asked, dryly. “Wow, it’s like we’re already married.”
You opened your mouth to do something, you weren’t sure what. Everything in your mind had gone white. But once again, Ransom beat you to it. “Alright, let’s get this done. You’re moving into my house. Fine. But I already have everything we need, so I expect you to pack light. I don’t need your shit cluttering up everything.”
You didn’t know what to say to that. You didn’t know how to have a conversation with him. Someone who left no room for you and seemed not to care at all about anything you had to say. And then there was the voice in your head that kept shouting about how incredibly important this dinner was to the rest of your life. And now it wasn’t even dinner. So when you opened your mouth to speak, what came out was, “I have a dog.”
He stared at you for a moment, seemingly surprised that you’d spoken at all. “What? No. Absolutely not. You’ll have to get rid of it. I hate dogs.”
You didn’t even bother to try to think through the static in your head. “She’s coming with me. I don’t care what else happens, I’m fucking bringing my dog.”
Ransom just narrowed his eyes and stared at you for a moment, then, “Fine. Just keep it away from me. And if it destroys my house, you’re getting rid of it. I’m serious.”
“She won’t,” you said, as sure of that as anything. “She’s a good girl.”
“Whatever,” he said, as the server returned with his second drink. He slid his empty glass to the end of the table, then said, “The bill,” without looking at her. As she took his empty away, he continued to you, “I don’t know why you want to deal with a dog and a baby, but…” he shrugged.
You just blinked at him, trying to catch up with the massive leap he’d just taken. “Baby? What? Who said anything about a baby?”
He laughed, loudly. “Oh my god, they didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?” you asked, harshly, panic starting to build up in your chest.
“Of course, they fucking left that to me. There’s a clause in the contract,” he said, “requiring you to get pregnant with my child within the first year.”
You stared over his shoulder, you couldn't look him in the eye, horrified and speechless. You couldn’t breathe. How were you supposed to breathe?
“You seriously didn’t read your own marriage contract?” The judgment in his tone had you shrinking in on yourself. You couldn’t help it.
“They didn’t give me any time,” you said, quietly. “They just made me sign it.”
“And you always do what you’re told, don’t you? Yeah, you look like a good girl.” He said it the same way he’d called you polite when he’d first sat down with you. Like it made you weak. Stupid. You’d never thought so before, but now you wondered if he was right.
“Fuck,” you whispered.
He chuckled humorlessly. “We agree on that,” he said. “This whole thing is fucked.”
At some point, without your notice, the server had returned with Ransom’s card and the receipt. He signed it quickly, then stood up. “Listen, now, at least, we can go back to our parents, tell them we met, chatted, got to know each other. Everything is hunky dory. And then do whatever we want for the next three weeks. Right now, I’m going to try to salvage my night. You go do,” he gestured vaguely at you, “whatever you need to do. I’ll see you at the wedding.”
And then he was gone and you were alone.
You sat in the back seat of the car on the way back to your apartment, running over every moment of your evening. You kept thinking about the way he’d looked at you, talked to you. A baby. You were supposed to have a baby with him. A child that you’d have to raise. By yourself, judging by how invested in all this he seemed to be. Forty, fifty years of him looking at you like that, talking to you like that. And a baby. You leaned forward and asked the driver to take you to your parents’ house instead.
Once you arrived, you said you needed to speak to your stepfather urgently and were shown to his study. You stood in the middle of the room, too anxious to sit down, and waited. Everyone was making you wait tonight.
Several minutes later, Joseph finally came in. “We weren’t expecting you tonight,” he said. “How did it go?”
You ignored his question, which you guessed was an answer in itself. “Please don’t make me do this,” you pleaded.
“Sweetheart,” he sighed, disappointed, and moved over to his bar, pouring himself two fingers of decanted whiskey. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“It was. It was awful. He’s– I can’t do this. Please, please don’t make me.” Your voice broke, but you couldn’t be embarrassed about it, not when you were staring down an entire lifetime with him.
“Everyone gets nervous before their wedding. You’ll be fine. This is important. To all of us.”
“It’s not nerves!” You were close to shouting, suddenly. “You weren’t there. You don’t know. There have to be other families we need things from. It doesn’t have to be this family, does it? It doesn’t have to be right now. Please, please, anything else. I’m begging you, don’t make me marry him, have a child with him.”
He chuckled lightly. “Oh, that’s what this is about. It won’t feel as scary once the baby is here. You’ll make an excellent mother.”
You just stared at him, agape. He wasn’t listening to anything you had to say. “How could you not tell me that was part of the contract? I deserved to know. I wouldn’t have signed!”
His face hardened at that. “You were naive to not expect it. Of course, children are part of this. I admit that the timing is a little fast, but Harlan insisted.”
“Joseph, please listen to me. I can’t. I can’t. Please. If you care about me at all, you won’t make me do this.”
“You’re being ridiculous. It’s done. Everything’s signed. You signed. Now,” he said and took a drink, “it’s getting late. It’s high time you went home. Hopefully, you’ll be able to calm yourself down there.” And then he left the room, ignoring you as your whole world fell apart.
As you left, you passed your mother in the hall. Neither of you said anything.
When you got home, Steve was waiting for you, having already let himself in, holding Lola in one arm. “How did it go?” he asked seriously. You shook your head and finally let the tears fall. He pulled you into his arms, smushing you against your dog, and gently guided you into your home.
Part Two
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Prepare For Takeoff
Title: Prepare For Takeoff
Characters/Pairings: soft dark!Mafia!Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 1.5k
Content Warnings: vaginal fingering, dubious existing engagement
Logistical Notes: Another piece early in the days of the I'm Your Man AU.
Author Note: I started this AU when I was at an airport, and my recent trip had me thinking of these two again, and it had me wishing I were Andy's to spoil.
↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
While you aren’t used to being chauffeured to every aspect of your life (nor did you want to get used to it, the driver and vehicle yet another element that Andy insisted on in the new life he inserted you into), you know a security checkpoint where your driver had to stop and speak to someone else is not part of the typical route back to the palatial Barber Estate. You sit up straighter in your seat, looking first to the men in the front, but neither of them give anything away, your bodyguard Shep’s face is the same stoic expression as ever, and your driver Mark only glances into the rear view mirror to meet your eyes briefly.
Your brows furrow and you look out the window. You can only see large white buildings on either side of the SUV, and the overwhelmingly industrial feel has you at a loss for guessing the where and why of your location.
That is until you reach the end of the building and the car pulls around the corner. Now you see these large white industrial walls make up the sides of a row of aircraft hangars. While your jaw doesn’t drop, your mouth opens slightly. The jaw dropping moments as a character in the life of Andy Barber are so frequent, but you are starting to control your reactions a bit more.
The SUV pulls up smoothly to the side of a private jet, sleek and black, the late afternoon sun shining off its metal sides. Mark stops the vehicle, and as Shep opens your door, you are not surprised to see you are stepping out exactly onto a long, blue carpet that leads from the SUV to the bottom of a set of white stairs. At the top of them, Andy emerges from the plane, nodding to you. You smooth down the front of your clothing and glare up at him.
“What is this?” You call up loudly.
“You know what it is.”
“Where are we going?”
“Away for the weekend. Now, don’t be difficult, sweetheart, you’re going to love this.”
You feel a sting in your eyes but quickly blink it away.
You hate this because you know he is right.
Yet again he will undoubtedly give you exactly what you want and go beyond what you could even imagine for it, but because he wants to, not because you want any of it.
That is the constant curse in this relationship.
Everything you want, but all your choices stolen from you before you can make them.
You concentrate on taking deep breaths as you ascend the staircase, mustering the strength that you will need for this. You have to armor yourself against his charm and his cunning. Every moment with him is dangerous.
“I thought it was time to take you away, make you forget the everyday. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress.”
You blink, open your mouth, then shut it again. He is the source of the stress, but you don’t trust what would happen if you said that.
He smirks, then sweeps you into a kiss that immediately sends tingles all through your body, from where his lips press insistently against yours, tongue teasing into your mouth, to the hand he plants possessively onto you hip and the other on your back, pressing you flush against him, down to your toes, legs feeling unstable as he takes your breath away. You are helpless but to cling to his shoulders and kiss him back, because your traitorous body willingly surrenders to him, damn near craves him.
He finally lets you breathe again when you tap against his chest and turn your head, gasping for air.
He kisses your cheek, then your neck just beneath your ear.
Getting your breath back, you give a small huff. “So, what? I don’t even get to pack? You just have whatever I need for the flight and when we get wherever we’re going, I’ll just arrive to a closet full of new clothes and accessories?”
“Naturally.” You can feel his smirk against your skin for a moment before he bites at your delicate flesh.
“This is insane.” You push away from him and step through the open door of the jet.
“It’s not insane,” he says, stalking close behind you.
The interior of the plane is sleek, minimal, but the flavor of the furniture and decor evoke the same feeling as the common spaces of his estate with lush leather and dark wood.
The fact that there’s furniture…
“It’s not normal.”
Hand to your back, Andy ushers you further into the plane. “You’re never going to be subjected to normal again in your life.”
“But what if I liked normal?”
He sits on a leather loveseat and pulls you down immediately next to him, nearly in his lap. He counters, “You liked needing to get to the airport early, check your bags or haul them through security with your three-ounces-or-less limit on liquids, take off your shoes, and trek through the terminals to your gate?”
You sigh and look straight ahead.
He chuckles and beckons over a gentleman who offers a tray of drinks.
“Bourbon or champagne?”
“Thank you,” Andy says, and takes a glass of the dark bourbon.
“No, thank you,” you decline.
“The captain says we are clear for take off on your word, Mr. Barber.”
Andy nods. “Wheels up then. We’ll take dinner in ninety minutes. You can leave us until that point.”
“Call if you need anything, sir.”
You hear the click of a door as the man disappears. Andy takes a slow drink, then presses the glass to your lips, forcing you to take a sip before he sets the glass aside.
You feel the jet begin to move and then turn toward the runway.
“You deserve more than normal,” Andy says, eyes on you, returning to your conversation from moments before.
“Andy…” you hedge.
“I will whisk you away anywhere in the world. I’ll give you everything you want. You’re mine to spoil. You’re going to live a beautiful life with me.”
“Andy,” you start again, but unsure how to counter.
He growls your name and yanks you abruptly into his lap. He cuts any argument you were about to launch into by biting at your lower lip and grinding you down onto his hard bulge.
You whimper and throw your head back.
Andy assaults your bared neck with heated kisses. He knows he’ll have you a pliant mess for him to slake his lust in a matter of moments.
You know it, too.
And you know he’ll overwhelm you with pleasure of your own, never a selfish lover even though every other bit of him is selfish.
His fingers slip under the fabric covering your core without hesitation, and he strokes your labia, gathering more and more of your arousal as the plane picks up speed. Slow strokes back and forth, back and forth. The pad of his forefinger circles your clit and you bite back a whimper.
“Mmm, you know I love those noises you make.” He circles your bundle of nerves again, this time with his thumb, letting two of his fingers dip just slightly into your slick channel. “Give me what I want,” he coos, coaxing with another circle, and another, and you finally break, moaning openly for him.
“That’s it, sweetheart, let me know how good I make you feel.”
He pumps his fingers full into the knuckle now, and not like anyone else you’d ever been with intimately before. It’s only been a few weeks, but Andy has taken every opportunity to become a master of your body and coax and command pleasure out of every inch of you. He knows just how much pressure to apply when fucking you with his fingers, and he pushes into that spongy spot at the front of you walls insistently, repeatedly as the jet leaves the ground, making you cry out and shake on an abrupt orgasm.
You sink forward, hanging your head on his shoulder, but it’s only the first orgasm he plans to ply from your body on this flight. He draws your left hand to his mouth, and hums as he places a kiss first against the band of your engagement ring on your finger and then into your palm, before trailing his lips to your wrist. He eases you down to the floor, and you lay back and watch as he shucks off his pants above you before descending down to sheath himself inside you next, demanding more.
And as he fucks you there, then on another of the chairs, then takes you back to the sleeping quarters for yet more, you bend to his will and his demands and his lust, overcome with everything he is and everything he makes you feel, lost in the complexity of what he’s confined you into. His spoiled and ruined sweetheart.
↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
#andy barber#andy barber smut#andy barber x reader#mafia au#chris evans characters#soft dark andy barber#I'm your man#aspen wrote something
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Ethereal
A/N: I couldn't stop thinking about living next to puppy Steve and not knowing he's cap. So here's a mini-series!
Series Masterlist
Part 2
Pairing: TWS!Steve Rogers x Neighbor!Reader
Summary: When you move into your new apartment the last thing you'd expected was the greek god living next door to you.
Warnings: Steve is a literal golden retriever, riding on a motorcycle, mutual pining (a lot), reader doesn't know Steve is Cap, alcohol consumption, being awkward, first date vibes, Steve is a cutie.
Word Count: 5300
The beautiful divider is by @firefly-graphics
When you found a cheap apartment in an old but well-kept building in Brooklyn Heights, you were relieved.
You'd been searching for a new place to live for a while, after you found out the building you'd been living in was going co-op.
You had no means to pay for that old apartment, and even if you did, you wouldn't have wanted to. It was run down, new problems seemingly appearing every day, and there was no way you would have tied yourself to that place for good.
So when you found your new apartment you were excited; the building was old, but clearly well taken care of, and it was in a safe neighborhood. You lived in Williamsburg before, so you had no problem with staying in Brooklyn. In fact, you preferred it.
It took you about an hour to get to university, but you didn't mind the travel time. You would always spend that time studying, catching up on whatever you were missing, or getting ahead of next weeks readings.
You'd also always loved riding on the train; it could be hot, and cramped, and uncomfortable, but it also provided you with a sort of peace. You enjoyed people watching, or gazing out the window with your headphones on. Riding on the train provided a forced tranquility, because you knew, no matter what, you had to spend an hour or so on there. And so it forced you to disconnect with the outside world and in turn, connect with yourself. Even if it was just for a little while.
The day you moved into your new apartment you remember a feeling of curiosity. You remember lugging your boxes up to the top floor and down the hall, unlocking your front door as your gaze moved to the door further down the hall.
Your neighbor lived at the end of the hallway, while you lived to the right. You didn't know anything about who occupied the space; the only thing you knew was that someone lived there, by the doormat placed on the floor.
The apartment didn't have a specific name attached to its mailbox, only initials, and that was both intriguing and unsettling.
S. G. R.
You've met many people in your life who value their privacy, but not even providing a name on their own mailbox seemed excessive to you. Your first thought was how much of a hassle it must be to have packages delivered - you know for a fact that your online shopping habit would severely suffer if your name wasn't properly visible on your mailbox.
You moved in with no issues, other than a bit of sweat and a few groans of exhaustion.
Within a month, you'd gotten used to living there; it was almost like you'd lived there your entire life. You'd always leave early in the morning to get to class, and you'd often arrive home after dinner time, choosing to stay on campus to study, or go out with your friends.
All in all, it was a normal apartment, and it allowed you to live a completely ordinary life.
Until that fateful day back in March.
You arrive home earlier than usual. The entire day has been a disaster; first you missed your train, resulting in you being late for class, and then you spilled your coffee down the front of your shirt as you were walking across campus. When class was over, you'd talked yourself into staying and catch up on your reading, only to realize you'd forgotten the book for the course you needed to catch up on.
With a heavy sigh, and even heavier footsteps, you trudge up the stairs to your apartment. You're cursing yourself for forgetting your book, because you know that once you're inside, your urges will get the best of you, and you'll probably end up watching TV instead of catching up on your studies.
You release another heavy sigh when you reach your floor, turning the corner in the direction of your front door. Your eyes are locked on your feet as they carry you along, your bones tired and exhausted from this utter disappointment of a day.
But then your ears perk up when you hear the familiar sound of a key sliding into a lock.
Your eyes flit up to look ahead of you, breath almost hitching when they land on a tall blonde man, his broad back hunched over slightly as he unlocks his door.
Your feet still, making you stop just a few steps from your front door. The change in movement makes the stranger ahead of you glance over his shoulder, his brows furrowing for a moment before he turns around to face you.
"Hi," he says, grazing you with a dazzling smile, "You must be my new neighbor."
His voice is deep yet gentle, matching the hypnotizing features on his face. A strong jaw, chiseled cheekbones, matched with a pair of bright blue eyes and pink, plump lips.
He's fucking ethereal.
You can practically feel your heart hammering against your ribcage as you take in his full form, eyes gazing over his 6'2 frame. Broad shoulders to match his back, curving into a narrow waist, and legs that go on for days. His short, blonde hair is a little mussed up, his eyebrows raised in a question.
He's wearing a navy blue jacket, which matches his jeans, and a white t-shirt underneath. Entirely ordinary yet painfully breathtaking.
You're not sure you've ever seen a specimen quite like him.
When he tilts his head ever so slightly, you snap out of the daze he brought you in.
"Yeah, uh, hi. I guess I am. I just moved in."
You gesture towards your front door, and the stranger nods in acknowledgement.
"I heard some ruckus," he chuckles, bright white teeth practically blinding you, "I'm sorry I didn't come around to introduce myself earlier, I've been a little preoccupied with work."
You wave a dismissive hand as you smile, "Oh, no worries. I know how it is. But I'm glad we finally met, I was starting to wonder who lived next door."
"Yeah?" He asks with a grin, "Why?"
"Because I've never seen anyone," you chuckle, "I was starting to suspect it was an investment property or something. Figured no one lived there."
The stranger laughs, the sound a bubbling melodic tune that makes your heart beat excitedly. It's a beautiful, genuine sound, that makes you feel special in a way you can't quite explain.
"Oh, I live here, don't you worry," he replies, his smile turning softer, "I've been away for a little while, but I'm back now. I did hear you move in, though, but I had to leave for work early the next day, so I didn't have time to come by and welcome you to the building."
You nod, "Okay, I see. What do you do for work?"
His brows furrow momentarily before he shrugs, "You know, I work jobs here and there. I travel a lot, though."
"You're an easy neighbor to have, then," you joke, tilting your head, "I guess I won't have to worry about you making a noise complaint."
He laughs again, the sound is practically addicting to your ears, "No, you won't have to worry about that, I promise. I usually keep to myself."
You nod and hum, holding eye contact for a moment longer before your eyes dart to your front door, "Good to know.. Well, it was really nice to meet you, uhh..?"
He smiles, hesitating for a moment before he says, "Steve. Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you too."
Two days later, you're out for drinks with your friends, excitedly telling them about the greek god living next door to you.
"I swear to god, he's fucking ethereal. Like, insane. I can't even explain it."
You take another large sip of your drink as your friends giggle.
"You have to show me a picture!" Janine says excitedly, eyes wide as she looks at you, "Come on, show us his social media!"
"That's the thing!" You exclaim, placing your drink perhaps a bit too harshly back on the table, "I tried to look him up but I couldn't find any social media accounts for him. It was so frustrating because apparently he shares a name with one of those Avenger guys, so it was practically impossible."
You take another eager sip as your friend, Melanie, narrows her eyes at you, "What do you mean he shares a name with one of the Avengers? Who?"
You wave your hand dismissively, "I don't fucking know those guys, you know that, but when I googled his name all of these articles for those guys showed up so I couldn't find anything on him. I didn't feel like sifting through all of that."
Your friends share a knowing look before Melanie leans closer to you on the table, "What did you say his name was?"
"Steve," you chirp, sipping your drink through the straw happily, "Steve Rogers."
Your friends share another look, although this one seems more shocked than before, making you look between the two of them.
"What?" You ask, watching their expressions, "What's the matter?"
"Nothing!" Janine immediately interjects, glancing quickly at Melanie before she looks back at you, "It's nothing. But that sucks, you gotta take a sneaky picture next time you're able to."
You snort, "Okay, I'll try, but I haven't seen him since we met the other day. He gets really busy with work, apparently."
"I'm sure he does..." Melanie replies, taking another sip of her drink.
After one too many cocktails, you called an uber to get back home. You're trying to stay focused as you walk up the stairs to your apartment, swaying ever so slightly with every step.
"Almost there," you mumble as you reach the final step, "God I'm tired.."
You round the corner and head towards your door, pulling your keys out of your bag.
Right as you find the right one, and struggle to slide it into the lock, your neighbors' door opens.
"Hey," a deep voice says, making you glance in its direction, "You okay?"
Your eyes find a pair of beautiful cerulean ones, your cheeks growing warm at his presence.
"Yeah," you drunkenly giggle, moving your attention back to your key as you try to slide it into the lock, "I'm fine, just need to figure out how to unlock the door.."
You hear a quiet chuckle and then approaching footsteps before Steve is standing right beside you, a large hand reaching out to cover your own.
"Here, let me help you."
He easily unlocks your door, handing the keys back to you with a smile.
"Thank you," you hiccup, smiling goofily up at him, "You didn't have to, I could have figured it out myself.. Eventually.."
"Yeah," he chuckles, smiling down at you, "But then you'd probably have spent half your night out here."
You giggle again, shaking your head, "Noooo, I would have figured it out."
"Mhmm," Steve hums, placing a strong hand on the small of your back when you stumble where you stand, "Sure. You need help getting inside?"
"No no," you immediately respond, frowning up at him seriously, "I'm a big girl, I can handle myself."
"Okay, big girl," Steve chuckles as you step over the threshold, "Just make sure to drink some water, okay? And maybe some painkillers, too."
"Will do," you grin, gripping the door handle to keep you steady, "Thank you, Steve."
"Anytime."
3 days later you're walking home from school when you notice a motorcycle parked in front of your building. You look it over for a minute, impressed by how well kept it is despite it being an older model. You don't know a lot about motorcycles, but you know enough to realize it's a Harley-Davidson and that the design is a classic.
Your dad taught you what little knowledge you possess on motorcycles since he owned a Harley himself back when you were a kid.
You hesitantly let your fingers graze over the cushioned leather seat, the material soft against your fingertips.
"This is nice," you mumble to yourself absentmindedly, brows furrowing momentarily. It's clean, practically shiny, which makes you wonder where it's usually parked. Whoever owns it must have a covered parking space for it.
Just as your fingers lift from the leather cushion, the building door opens. Your eyes flit up to the figure walking down the steps to your building, heading in your direction, and you feel a flurry of butterflies when you recognize the man approaching you.
He's wearing a brown leather jacket this time, with a grey t-shirt underneath, a pair of blue jeans to finish off the look.
You can practically see the outline of his undoubtedly defined abs through the tight t-shirt and the thought alone makes your cheeks heat up.
"Hi Steve," you say with a smile as he walks in your direction.
His face splits into a wide smile, shoving his hands into his pockets once he descends the steps and walks over to where you're standing by the bike, "Hey neighbor. Nice to see you again. How's your head?"
Haven't had any complaints so far...
You chuckle, resisting the urge to make the dirty joke that popped into your mind, a small shake of your head as you speak, "That was 3 days ago. Hangover is long gone. But thank you for helping me inside, that was nice of you."
"Of course," he beams, a bashful shrug of his shoulders, "It was nothing. What else are neighbors for, right?"
"Right," you nod, smiling shyly when your eyes flit down to the motorcycle in an effort to hide your flushing cheeks.
"You like it?" Steve asks when he notices your gaze trailing over the bike, "Just pulled it out of storage today. Figured it was time to take it for a ride, now that the weather is getting warmer."
Your eyes dart up to meet his, brows raised in surprise, "This is yours?"
"Yeah," Steve replies, patting the leather seat as if it was a horse, "I used to have a different one but I like this newer model, too. Drives like a dream."
"Of course it does," you snort, fingers lightly touching the sleek silver on the side, "It's a Soft Slim, they're spectacular. Harley does good work in general, but they certainly stepped their game up with this model."
Steve quirks a brow at you, his eyes slowly moving over your face as you continue looking at his bike, "You know motorcycles?"
You shrug, "A little bit. My dad is a Harley-Davidson enthusiast, so I know some. Not a lot, though. But I know this model. She's a beaut."
"Yeah, she is," Steve chuckles, his head tilting slightly as he looks at you, "I was just about to go for a ride. Care to join me?"
The brisk spring air breezing through your hair send shivers down your spine as you race down the almost deserted highway. Steve takes an exit, heading towards New Jersey, and you cling to him as your arms are wrapped around his waist.
He's in complete control of the bike in a way that seems almost effortless; it moves with him in every turn, and even at high speeds, you sense no hesitation in him.
It almost feels like flying.
Your arms tighten their hold a little more when the cold air nips at the bare skin on your neck, instinctively burrowing your face into his back.
He tilts his head slightly, and lifts his shoulder, seemingly inviting you to tuck your face into the crook of his neck.
You only hesitate for a moment before you bury your face in his neck, pressing your chest to his back, his warm skin heating you up almost instantly. He tilts his head more to give you proper space, leaning his back into your chest.
Your arms tighten in response, a small smile grazing your lips as you breathe in deeply. His clean and fresh scent envelopes you, making the shivers running down your back happen for a very different reason than before.
Your thighs tighten where they are on the outer side of his, holding onto him more firmly, and by all accounts, it appears he's enjoying it.
He speeds up experimentally, making you let out a small squeak before you hold onto him even tighter, and you swear you hear the melodic sound of his laugh before it's swallowed up by the wind.
Eventually Steve brings you back home, the city of Brooklyn enveloped in darkness, the lampposts on the side of the road the only thing lighting your way.
He drives into a spot in front of the building and you reluctantly unwrap your arms from his waist, sliding off the bike.
He parks the bike and gets off, standing in front of you with a soft smile on his lips. His cheeks are the faintest shade of pink, probably from the cold, and his hair is mussed up in a cute way that makes you yearn to run your fingers through it.
You smile up at him, another small shiver running down your spine, and Steve immediately notices. He shrugs his jacket off, placing it over your shoulders, "I'm sorry, I should have figured you'd get cold. I hope it wasn't too bad?"
He has no idea you've been shivering this entire time, or that your shivers are triggered by something other than the cold.
"It's okay," you respond with a warm smile, "I wasn't cold while you were driving, you're surprisingly hot."
Steve's lips lift into a goofy grin, making you immediately backtrack, "Oh my god, uh, I mean warm. You're surprisingly warm."
"I got it, don't worry," he chuckles, placing a protective hand on the small of your back before he starts guiding you in the direction of your building, "Let me walk you up."
You chuckle, walking beside him up the steps, "I don't think it counts as walking me up when you're going the same direction yourself."
He snorts and shakes his head, "Probably not. But I would have done it if I didn't live here, too."
"Such a gentleman," you muse, your fingers gripping the hem of his jacket. It smells like him, that clean, fresh scent, and you'd want to drown in that smell if you could.
"I try," he jokes, grinning at you quickly.
You reach your apartment door, and once you're standing in front of it, you slide his jacket off your shoulders, "Thank you for lending this to me. That was nice."
"Even if it was short lived," Steve responds as he takes his jacket from you, "I'm sorry I didn't give it to you before we left on the drive."
"Steve, don't worry about it," you reply earnestly, "I promise, I wasn't cold. Not until I had to unwrap myself from you, at least."
Steve's eyes lock on yours, a tension filling the small space between the two of you as you look up at him. His smile is soft, gentle, a quiet hum leaving his lips as he nods.
"I'm sorry you had to do that, then."
"It's alright," you grin teasingly, "Maybe I'll get to do it again some time."
"I would love that," Steve immediately responds, a wide smile breaking out on his lips, "For there to be a next time, I mean. Doesn't have to be a drive, either."
"No?" You tease, your head tilting as your eyes stay locked on his, "What did you have in mind?"
"A cup of coffee?" He asks, blue eyes shining in the dimly lit hallway.
"I like coffee," you smile, nodding, "I'd love to."
"It's a date," he firmly replies, his fingers fiddling with the keys in his hand, "Maybe in the next few days?"
"Sure!" You beam up at him, immediately reaching into your bag, "Let me give you my number, that might make it easier to plan."
"Oh, uh, yeah, okay," Steve responds, hands clasping over his pockets almost as if he's unsure where his phone is.
When he brings out a flip phone, you snort. "That's your phone?"
Steve's cheeks tinge pink, this time certainly not from the cold, a small nod of his head, "Yeah, I uh.. I'm not really good with technology. Needed something easy."
You chuckle, "Okay, fair enough."
You take his phone, putting your number in and sending yourself a text. "There. Now we have each others numbers. Just text me when you have time to grab that cup of coffee."
"Will do," Steve responds, lingering for a moment as he stands in front of you.
When he suddenly leans down and places a quick kiss on your cheek, your breath hitches, and you fight the urge to pull him closer.
"I had a great time," he says as he takes a few steps backwards, in the direction of his apartment, "Have a good night."
"Goodnight, Steve."
A few days pass without you running into Steve in the hallway again. It's also been very quiet, you haven't heard a peep from your neighbor, which is surprising because the walls aren't that thick. You can always hear your downstairs neighbor, especially if they're listening to music or have people over, so you're surprised you never hear anything from Steve.
No movement, no accidental run ins, no noises. Nothing. Only silence.
It makes you wonder if he's even home.
A week after your bike ride, you finally hear from him.
You're sitting on your couch, watching one of your favorite shows on TV while binging a tub of ice cream. It's Saturday night, and you weren't in the mood to go out even though your friends tried to convince you. It'd been a long week at university and the only thing you were in the mood for this weekend was to stay at home in your sweats and watch silly sitcoms to get your mind to relax.
You phone chimes just after 8pm, alerting you to a text message.
You pick up your phone while licking your spoonful of ice cream clean, your eyes flicking from the TV to your phone screen. Your brows raise in surprise when you see who it's from, a snort leaving your lips.
Steve Rogers: How's your Saturday night?
You: Oh hello there, stranger. I was starting to think perhaps you'd moved
Steve Rogers: I'm sorry, I had a work emergency I had to take care of. I've been gone for the past few days, just got back. How has your week been?
Your brows furrow at his response. What does this guy do for work?
The last time you asked, his response was pretty vague, but he obviously does something that's important enough for him to leave without notice. Often.
You: It's been alright, nothing exciting to report. Mainly just studying and classes. How's yours been?
Steve Rogers: A little rough. Had to deal with a tough project at work, but it's over now, luckily. At home licking my wounds now
You: Wounds? Literal or metaphorical?
Steve Rogers: Little of both
You blink in surprise, putting down your ice cream to be able to text quicker.
You: What? Are you hurt?
Steve Rogers: I'll be okay, I'm just tired. I'm sorry I didn't follow up on our coffee date, though. I hope you didn't lose faith in me
You: Was just about to, but then you texted, so I'll give you another chance
Steve Rogers: Yeah? When do you have time?
Steve Rogers: Are you busy right now?
Your brows raise in surprise at the double text as well as the question.
You: It's a little late for coffee, don't you think?
Steve Rogers: How about tea, then?
You manage to tidy yourself up a little bit, tossing on a tank-top instead of the oversized shirt you were wearing when there's a knock on your door.
You're still in your sweats from earlier, but you don't really mind that; he messaged you with very short notice, so he couldn't exactly be expecting you to look all dressed up.
You unlock your door before opening it, grinning up at Steve when he comes into view, "Hey there."
"Hi," Steve smiles, his hands shoved into his pockets, "Nice to see you again."
You let your eyes trail over his form; he's in a white t-shirt, one that's tight and allows you to see the firm outline of his torso (you suspect tight t-shirts are his signature, by now), and you apparently guessed right on keeping your sweats on, because he's in a pair of his own. A grey pair, to be exact.
Your eyes move up to take in the features of his face, lingering on his beautiful, baby blue eyes and pink plump lips. But then your brows instantly furrow when you notice the small mark on his cheekbone.
"Oh," you breathe out, instinctively stepping closer, and before you can even stop yourself, you reach up, letting your fingers gently touch the skin right below the mark, "Are you okay?"
You can tell Steve tenses at your touch, making you immediately remove your hand before you step back again, mumbling, "Uh, sorry, I shouldn't-"
"No, it's alright," Steve interrupts, putting up a hand to stop you, "Don't worry, I was just caught off guard. It hurts a little, but it'll go away soon. Promise."
"Okay," you reply with a small nod, smiling softly as your eyes meet his. Then you step aside, gesturing to your apartment, "Well, come on in."
Steve smiles as he walks inside, continuing further as you close the door behind him. He wanders into the open kitchen, eyes moving over the space and to the living room area.
"This is nice," he hums, placing his hands in his pockets, "I like what you did with the place."
You chuckle, "Thanks. I only buy the finest Ikea furniture."
Steve lets out a melodic laugh, following your movement when you walk into the kitchen. You reach up to pull open the cupboard as you ask, "So, what kind of tea do you like?"
You don't hear a response immediately, but you almost jump in surprise when you suddenly hear his voice from right behind you, "What kinds do you have?"
You glance over your shoulder, eyes locking with the blonde man towering over you. You smirk, "Well, you tell me. Seems like you can see better than I can."
Steve snorts, stepping closer before his attention is pulled to the inside of the cupboard. He reaches up, his chest brushing against your back when he grabs for a packet and places it on the counter in front of you, "I like this one."
You release a quiet, unsteady breath when you feel the warmth of him pressing against your back, your fingers reaching for the packet of tea.
"Black tea," you hum, picking two tea bags out of the box, "Good choice."
You slide a little to the side, reaching for two mugs in a different cupboard, still nervously aware of his close presence.
"I'm glad you think so," Steve hums, following your movement. He stands behind you again, taking the mugs for you when you stand up on your tip toes to reach them, "Did you know that was the kind of tea the British soldiers drank during World War II?"
Your brows raise in surprise, looking up at him over your shoulder, "No, I didn't. That's pretty cool."
Steve grins, nodding as he places the two mugs on the counter, "Yeah, uh, actually the British government bought out practically all the tea in Europe in order to be able to give them to the soldiers on the frontlines."
"Wow," you respond, your brows furrowing, "That's actually crazy. How could they even do that?"
You walk over to the kettle, filling it with water so you can boil it, while Steve moves to lean on your kitchen counter. He shrugs, "Guess they just decided it was worth it, to keep morale up."
"Hm," you hum, turning on the kettle before you turn to him, "That was really nice of them. I didn't think the government cared much about their soldiers, to be honest. All you ever hear about are the glory while they're away, and then those horror stories when they come back and have PTSD."
Steve's face falls a little, his hands going back into his pockets as he nods slowly, "Yeah, I guess you're right. Perhaps the British government cared more about their soldiers then they do here.."
"Yeah," you mumble, your fingers reaching for the packet to fiddle with it, "My brother was actually in the army.."
"He was?" Steve asks curiously, "For how long?"
"A long time," you sigh, "Too long. He wasn't the same when he came back home.."
"That happens," Steve replies quietly, "A lot, unfortunately."
You glance over at him, watching how his eyes are trained on the floor. You tilt your head, asking hesitantly, "Is that something you know a lot about? The army?"
"Kinda," he shrugs, offering you a small smile when he looks back up at you, "I was also in the army. I still kind of am, I guess.." He cringes a little, making you turn to directly face him.
You take a small step closer, slowly lifting your hand until your fingers are almost brushing his cheek as you hold eye contact, "Is that how you got this?"
Steve's lips part in a nervous breath when you lean closer, his hands bracing the edge of the counter as he leans on it. His baby blues hold yours, dipping his head ever so slightly until your fingertips trail over his skin.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that."
"But you're not shipped out?" You inquire, your fingers trailing down his cheek to his jaw, "You live here, and you don't go away for months at a time."
"I'm a.. different kind of soldier," he whispers, his face slowly leaning closer to yours, "But I used to be in the army."
"So, you got promoted?" You tease, your voice low. Your fingers trail down his jaw, to the column of his neck, Steve's breath hitching when the delicate touch tickles his skin.
"You could say that," he smiles softly, his eyes burning into yours intensely as he continues slowly leaning closer, "The job isn't very different, though. But I get to go home more often."
You hum, nodding slowly as your fingers curl around his neck hesitantly. You break eye contact for a moment, eyes dropping to his lips, your stomach doing a flip when his tongue darts out to lick them.
Your eyes raise up to meet his again, the hand curled around the back of his neck slowly pulling him closer until you can feel your breaths mixing.
You look up at him with wide eyes, your nerves on edge, and it's almost like your mind goes blank when he whispers, "Can I kiss you?"
You nod immediately, there's no way in hell you'd ever say no.
Steve's eyes drop to your lips, inching himself closer until they softly brush over yours, and then you let out a content sigh when he presses them firmly against your own. You pull him closer by the hand curled around his neck, one large hand landing on your waist to pull you into his chest.
Your other hand slides up his chest to his shoulder, gripping it as your lips glide over his in perfect synchronization.
You lose yourself in the softness of his lips, your unsteady breaths mixing, and you're only faintly aware when you hear the water boiling in the background.
#steve rogers#captain america#avengers#chris evans#steve#rogers#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x reader#captain america x you#captain america x reader#winter soldier#age of ultron#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers angst#steve rogers smut#the winter solider#chris evans characters#chris evans x you#chris evans x reader#avengers au#captain america au#slow burn#neighbors#neighbors au#motorcycle#neighbor#neighbor au
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𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐝: 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞.
✧.*ೃ⁀➷ pete's place | the intro | opening night | the playlist ༊*·˚
✧.* : ̗̀➛ dark!ari levinson x female!reader (non-descriptive)
✧.* : ̗̀➛ word count: 475.
✧.* : ̗̀➛ warnings: verbal humiliation, ball-sucking, references to face slapping, dirty talk, filthy ari.
✧.* : ̗̀➛ requested by: anonymous
✧.* : ̗̀➛ notes: the big one is here!! this one was really fun to write; although i do need to get better at writing dirty talk as idk i just struggle with it but that's the whole point of these little drabbles. if u have any pointers pls don't hesitate to drop them in my ask box, i always welcome help!! anyway! enjoy my ari lovin' besties!! pls lemme know what u think & check out the main masterlist if this is the first your seeing anything of this series!!
*this is an 18+ space. minors are not welcome here.
*this is a dark au. there are no happy endings here.
Ari sat, propped up by an assortment of pillows against the headboard, head tipped back; long sandy strands clung to the sweat on his brow.
Soft amber glows from the setting sun snuck in through the glass panes, covering your naked body with a fading warmth as you laid between his legs. Red lipstick smeared over your lips, cheek and chin; the same red lipstick covered Ari’s thighs in pretty kisses smudging under your fingertips as you kneaded his thighs as you lapped at the skin of his balls, letting out soft, muted moans that made Ari reply with pleased hums and chesty grunts.
Heat burnt across your cheeks and the burning remnants of Ari’s heavy palms on your thighs blended together. The hues of red smeared across your face was complimented by the muted pink of your tongue, skilfully rubbing at the underside of Ari’s balls before your lips parted to suck one slowly into your mouth.
‘’That’s it, Pup,’’ Ari groaned, slow and deep; hand stroking over your hair, his hand settling lightly on the back of your neck; the sudden softness from the heaviness of his hands earlier caused your head to spin. ‘’Such a good pup.”
You whined at the sound of his drawled praise, pleasure filled and throbbing core. Your hips humped at the sheets below you, hopelessly trying to find enough pressure to relieve the ache between your legs. Ari’s chuckle soon brought you out of your head as you peered up to find his gaze locked on you, a smirk pulled at his lips.
‘’Pathetic little Pup, humping the sheets like a bitch in heat. Live for nothin’ but to be used— nothin’ but hole,’’ Ari taunted, hand now gripping the back of your neck, drawing you closer to his sack. ‘’And you fuckin’ love it. You know you do. You’d waste days between my thighs, wouldn’t you, Pup?”
A pitiful whine escaped your throat as you were forced to lower your gaze from his intense stare, trying to sink into the sheets while keeping your mouth and tongue running over his balls.
‘’Tryna’ hide from me, Pup?’’ Ari teased, fingers finding your face to tilt your eyes back to him. ‘’Don’t go shy on me now,’’ Ari continued, teeth on show as he gleamed down at you. ‘’I know that slutty mouth can fit more than one in there; will stuff your mouth full if I have to.``
Ari’s threat made you push yourself, widening your mouth and using your fingertips to manipulate both of his heavy balls to settle against your tongue. Your eyes fluttered closed, moaning softly around the skin, spit gathering at the sides of your mouth; stuffed to the brim and overflowing with everything Ari.
‘’That’s it, get ‘em dripping, pet,’’ Ari moaned into the open air. ‘’You fuckin’ love it,’’ Ari repeated breathlessly as a hand disappeared from your hair and moved to fist at his leaking cock. “Gonna keep you there forever.”
#chris evans#ari levinson#dark!chris evans#dark!ari levinson#ari levinson smut#ari levinson x y/n#ari levinson imagine#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x female reader#ari levinson x you#ari levinson fanfiction#ari levison x reader#chris evans characters#dark chris evans fic#dark au#dark verse#pete's place#ari: pete's place#cevans#lila writes#lila's drabbles#pete's place: the drabbles
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Chapter XXI
Summary: Lloyd is disturbed when Princess has another close call. He struggles with his feelings before having an epiphany about their relationship.
Word Count: 6,839
Masterlist
Warnings: 18+ readers only. Smut, erotica level explicitness, use of nipple clamps, allusions of impact play (Lloyd threatens to spank Princess), semi-rough sex. Criminal elements including stalking, domestic violence, and murder. Major health scare requiring an emergency room visit.
Chapter XXII
You stepped out of the police station and into blinding sunlight. The moment the sun hit your eyes it felt like a thousand needles being stabbed in your retinas. You dug in your purse for a pair of sunglasses. The gradient style lenses weren’t dark enough to provide sufficient shade, so you shielded them with your hand as you scanned the parking lot. Refracted light from Jake’s glossy white Toyota 4Runner hurt your eyes, even though it was idling in the shade, under the porte-cochère.
You climbed in, hoping the vehicle’s dark windows would block the sun. Instead, the reflection off the hood was so bright that your eyes watered. With a hiss, you flipped the visor down.
Jake raised an eyebrow. “Rough day?”
“Not really, we had a great interview with Aliyah this morning, but I started getting a headache after lunch. My eyes are killing me.”
“Do you want to stop by the pharmacy?”
“I’d kill for some ibuprofen.”
In CVS, the pain relief aisle was completely stocked with everything - except ibuprofen.
Jake peered over your shoulder. “Should we try another store?”
“No. I’ll just grab something else.”
You picked up a box of Excedrin that proclaimed itself ‘extra-strength’ and flipped it over to study the label.
“What are you looking for?” Jake asked.
“I don’t know. My mother hates this stuff, she always takes ibuprofen.”
On the walk back to the car you swallowed two tablets and found that you were grateful for Jake’s presence. Since the incident in his backyard Lloyd had decided it was too risky for you to be alone anywhere that wasn’t secure. Outside of his cabin, the only places that met his security standards were the police station in Harmony and his office at Bishop & Howard. Lloyd had taken to dropping you off at the station in the mornings. In the afternoons one of the guys would drive you back to the office and deliver you directly to Lloyd’s office.
You’d agreed to the arrangement without hesitation because it was the logical, prudent course of action. Even so, you couldn’t help resenting that your freedom had been so harshly curtailed. The stalker had made you dependent on others in a way you’d never experienced before and hoped to never experience again. The rotation of bodyguards driving you back and forth between the police station and the office made you feel like a child caught in the middle of a complicated custody dispute.
Jake glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.
“Maybe we should stop by the emergency room,” he said. “You had a concussion recently and-”
“No. I’m fine. This is just a tension headache.”
You adjusted your sunglasses and tried to blink away the spots that danced in front of your eyes. Jake was still trying to persuade you to go to the ER when your throat started to ache, and then the ache became an itch. The itch spread slowly, like a persistent whisper of discomfort until you coughed and wheezed.
Your lips started tingling.
“Jake? I think… maybe we should go to the hospital.”
- - -
Six minutes later, you crossed the threshold of the Forest View Hospital emergency room. You were leaning heavily on Jake and choking on air instead of inhaling it. Your airway had constricted to a terrifyingly narrow passage that seemed to contract even further with each passing second. One look at you and the triage nurse was out of her chair. She guided you to a wheelchair while quizzing Jake about peanuts and shellfish… there was more, but your ears were ringing and you didn’t catch the rest.
A second later, a man in a white coat shoved a needle in your thigh. The injection stung, but the relief was so intense you could’ve kissed him. As the medicine coursed through your veins the feeling of suffocation gradually eased. The man in the white coat took a stethoscope and listened to your breathing.
“Not too bad,” he announced. “But we’ll need to keep you in observation for a while. I administered epinephrine to counter your allergic reaction. Can you tell me about any food or drugs you’ve consumed in the past few hours?”
You were still catching your breath, so Jake stepped forward. “She took an Excedrin about twenty minutes ago.”
Navy blue embroidery on the breast pocket of his white coat proclaimed the man as: Kennedy Knox, M.D., MSc; under his name were the words ‘Family Medicine.’ His nose was slightly crooked and he’d chosen a daring color for his footwear - the neon purple running shoes clashed with his burgundy scrubs.
Jake’s phone rang and he stepped around the curtain to answer it.
Dr. Knox noticed you were shivering and brought you a warm blanket from a glass cabinet before sitting down to take your medical history. Your voice was scratchy, but you managed to answer.
He finished typing and clicked back through his note, scanning the text. “It seems like you might have a sensitivity to aspirin. You said your mother avoids it?”
“She only uses ibuprofen and tylenol,” you confirmed.
“I’m almost certain anaphylaxis was triggered by aspirin, but until you can be tested by an allergist, avoid NSAIDs altogether. I’ll write you a referral.”
He typed another few lines into your chart.
“I see that you suffered a concussion last week?” Dr. Knox said.
“Yeah, I hit my head after getting out of the pool.”
“The Excedrin was for a headache… have you had problems with them since the injury?”
“Just today. The light started bothering me after lunch. By the time I got off work, it was a full-blown tension headache.”
Dr. Knox nodded. “Post-concussive headaches can feel a lot like tension headaches.”
He asked a few more questions and did a palpitation of your neck before picking up his prescription pad.
“Here, you can fill this at any pharmacy in the area…”
Sloppy handwriting on the note read: Pick up some very, very dark sunglasses, ASAP!
You giggled.
Knox winked.
“Doctor’s orders. They’re a must-have accessory for any fashionable concussion survivor. Think of it like wearing a scarf in Alaska.”
“I can get behind a prescription like this,” you said.
He chuckled. “Take care, and remember - no more Excedrin, no aspirin, and always read medications labels from now on.”
After signing the discharge papers you made your way down the hall. Your knees were still shaky but you could breathe. You continued until the sterile hospital atmosphere gave way to the softer, earth-toned decor of the waiting room.
Jake was standing beside Lloyd.
When your gaze clashed with Lloyd’s you almost stopped short. He looked furious, but then you noticed the wrinkle in his chin, a feature that only appeared when he was concerned. His pale eyes were like flint. You crossed to them and he opened his arms, enveloping you in a tight embrace. The weight of his hand smoothing down your back lulled you into relaxation and you wrapped your arms around his neck and laid your head on his shoulder.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Turns out I might be allergic to Aspirin.”
Lloyd sighed and squeezed your waist. His next words were directed to Jake.
“Thank you for taking care of her.”
“Don’t mention it.”
You were so exhausted that you didn’t bother listening to the rest of their conversation. It only lasted a minute or so. The whole time, Lloyd’s arms were snug around your waist and the warmth of his body seeped into yours, helping ease the residual shakiness from the epinephrine. Soon, Jake’s footsteps faded away, but Lloyd’s hold on you still didn’t relax. His hand kept stroking up and down your back. You yawned.
“Let’s get you home,” Lloyd murmured.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
He was anxious. It was an unusual condition for Lloyd, so the emotion struck him like a foreign disease, a pathogen that his immune system hadn’t been exposed to enough to mount an effective defense against. His skin prickled with hyper-awareness, his shoulder muscles were rigid and tension had gnawed a hole in the pit of his stomach.
You were asleep. He’d loaned you his jacket and you’d nestled into the makeshift pillow and nodded off just a few minutes into the drive. Lloyd snuck a glance at you, his lips compressing into a scowl. This was the second time in the space of ten days that he’d nearly lost you. His fingers clenched on the steering wheel. Wasn’t having a stalker enough? Did you need to have a life-threatening undiagnosed allergy, too?
When he pulled up to the cabin the sun was setting. You didn’t stir when he unbuckled you, so he rounded the vehicle and lifted you into his arms. Navigating the security system keypad and undoing the multiple locks on the front door with you in his arms was challenging, but he managed. By some miracle, your breathing was still deep and even when he laid you on the bed. He removed your shoes, covered you with a throw blanket and settled into the armchair by the window.
Anxiety continued to simmer in his blood. Lloyd did the breathing exercises Dr. Blair had taught him and stared out the window. He wished Nguyen would show his face. There was only one thing that would ease his mind, and it wasn’t breathing exercises.
Lloyd allowed his thoughts to turn toward violent imaginations. A normal person would’ve been horrified by the what ran through his head, but to him cruelty was the height of banality. It was something he’d been born into, a force that shaped his childhood, and then patterned his future. Violent ideas circulated in his mind without sparking the slightest flicker of emotional distress. Accountants had more passion for cash flow strategy than Lloyd did for his plans to end Shun Nguyen’s life.
It wasn’t long before his thoughts turned to more pressing issues.
He had to tell you that Nguyen was your stalker. It was his responsibility. Telling you was necessary and keeping the truth from you was wrong - he understood that very clearly. Lloyd’s teeth ground as he anticipated the impending conversation and wondered why it made him feel so awful. When had he become such a coward? As friends your communication had been seamless, but now that he was your lover, things had shifted.
You weren’t expressing yourself as freely. When you’d just been friends, you’d expressed your thoughts without hesitation, but over the past couple months, that had faded. Lloyd frowned. Why? What had prompted the breakdown in communication?
A soft groan from the bed interrupted his ponderings. You sighed, stretching, then squinted into the darkness.
“Lloyd? What time is it?”
“Just after seven-thirty.”
He crossed to the bed and sat down beside you, smoothing a hand over your hair.
“Did you sleep well?”
You adjusted the pillow. “Mmhmm.”
The words to begin the necessary conversation were right on the tip of his tongue, but then your arms curled around his neck. Lloyd was drawn into your arms and at the press of your lips, all his carefully organized thoughts scattered. His hands framed your face, thumbs sliding under your jaw to tilt your chin up. The kiss started out light, a brushing of lips, and steadily increased in pressure. When he pulled away, your eyes were dilated and you were both breathing raggedly.
“I’ve missed doing that,” you murmured, touching your swollen lips.
Lloyd groaned and kissed you deeply, enjoying your enthusiastic response. He gripped the back of your neck and held you still for a long, tender kiss, sliding his tongue against yours, then flicking and teasing, until he was rewarded by a delicate whimper of need. You gripped his shoulders and he sighed, contentment banishing the anxiety that had been riding him for the past few hours.
You mumbled something against his lips that he didn’t quite catch, but the demanding tone was clear enough. He slid his hands down from your face and gripped your waist, rubbing and squeezing at your hips in a gentle massage before moving to cradle your breasts. The distinct texture of lace was palpable through your thin blouse. He could tell it was an unlined bra by the way your puckered nipple stabbed into his palm.
You shivered and arched against his hand as you tugged him closer. Lloyd swept his thumbs over your nipples and was rewarded with a breathy moan and a delicious tremor. He groaned and allowed you to pull him down to the bed and rolled so that he was on top, straddling your hips.
His mouth never left yours. The kisses were hungry and charged with desperate need. When you began clawing at the buttons on his shirt, he undid them. Your hand sank into his chest hair, fingers twining into the sparse dusting with a purr of delight. Meanwhile, he found the fastening of your skirt, unclipped it and peeled down the zipper to access the hem of your blouse and yank it over your head.
When he saw the lacy purple bra with the front closure, he growled. You reached for the clasp but he batted your hand away.
“No.”
Your protest was silenced with a kiss and when you tried for the clasp again, he caught your wrists and raised them above your head. You whined in protest when he pinned you down, but the complaint was cut off when his tongue shoved into your mouth. He teased you with a series of thrusts and parries that elicited a soft chorus of whimpers and cries for him to enjoy before he shifted to a one handed grip on your wrists and slid his fingers under the lacy bra cups and stroked your taunt nipples.
“Oooohhh…”
Lloyd smirked. “Sensitive, Princess?”
He could feel your heartbeat hammering against your ribs. You moaned and arched when he scissored his fingers to pinch your nipple with his index and middle finger, squeezing until you gasped. Lloyd crushed his lips to yours as you undulated against him. He kissed you long and hard until you turned your head, breaking the kiss.
“Please, Lloyd, please…”
“You like it fast, don’t you, baby?”
You whined, struggling against his restraining grip. “Please…”
Lloyd chuckled. “If I let you go, you’ll start trying to undress me.”
Your pupils were blown wide and your lips were swollen from his rough kisses. Lloyd brushed his mouth lightly over yours. His smirk widened when you shuddered.
“Fuck me,” you whispered, breathless.
“Princess…” the hunger in your voice broke his self-control.
He released your wrists and unbuckled his belt. You squirmed underneath him, wiggling out of your skirt. By the time he’d gotten rid of his pants you were rolling down your thigh high stockings.
Lloyd hissed. “No, leave them on. Take off your panties unless you want me to rip them off.”
You obeyed and the second your panties were off, Lloyd moved between your legs, pressing himself against you, separated only by the thin barrier of his boxers. He felt your wetness seep through the silk and groaned.
“More, Lloyd. I need…”
He unfastened your bra and pushed it open, tweaking a pert nipple and squeezing the other breast. Your eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering as he bent to suckle at your tit. When you thrashed under him, he used his weight to hold you down as he tended to your breast. When you screamed in frustration he nipped your skin and ground his erection into your core. He could feel the scorching heat and his dick twitched, anticipating how good you’d feel wrapped around him.
“I need you inside me,” you pleaded.
“Yeah? How bad, Princess? Does it ache? Are you throbbing for me?”
You tossed your head back, making a noise that was part scream, part wail, and gyrated against him, trying to find relief.
“Someone’s naughty tonight, aren’t they? You know I’m the one who sets the pace in the bedroom, Princess. We need to work on your patience.”
You snarled, a startlingly realistic sound. Lloyd laughed and nuzzled your breasts, kissing each nipple, satisfying himself with a final suckle on each of the puckered little buds. They were still wet from his saliva but he continued to take his time and draw out your torment, enjoying the way you writhed and begged for more in disjointed, nearly unintelligible sentences.
“Fucking hell, baby. Your breasts are sensitive, aren’t they? Your pussy is gushing, you’re getting my nice silk boxers all sticky.”
You moaned, the sound faint, but raw. He recognized the pitch and knew you were getting close.
“I bet you could come just from this,” Lloyd mused, tracing the delicate tip of your breast with his tongue.
“Lloyd! Fuck, damn it…” you squirmed and fought his restraining grip.
He countered your struggles by shifting his weight to put more pressure on your hips, immobilizing you completely.
“You’re in a naughty mood tonight, Princess. I bet that aching pussy’s to blame. Ten minutes of me working on your nipples and you’re acting like an entitled brat. Let’s see what state you’re in after twenty…”
“I want you inside of me, please, please…!”
His cock thickened at your desperate cry. “You want my dick, baby?”
“Fuck me, Lloyd. I need you so bad.”
He moved his hand down to your center and stroked the delicate skin of your inner thighs, making you shiver.
“Hmmm… your thighs aren’t trembling yet. I love it when they do that. What if I gave you my fingers, Princess?”
Lloyd released your wrists and eased back, this time using both hands to caress your thighs. You keened when he ghosted his thumbs over the outer lips of your pussy and slipped them inside to spread you open, exposing your sex to his gaze.
“Let’s try that before I give you my dick, yeah? A nice round of fingering to get you warmed up?”
“I’m… warmed… up… damn it!” you were panting as he teased your clit.
He didn’t touch it directly, but took advantage of knowing the underside of your clit was your most sensitive area and stroked the vulnerable spot.
“I can see that, Princess. Your clit’s nice and puffy from grinding on my boxers, getting ‘em all messy with your pussy juice.”
He slid down to lay flat on the mattress and lowered his head to your core. For a moment, he just breathed on your clit and watched you tremble in excitement. Lloyd licked his lips, imagining the sharp flavor of you, tart and tangy on his tongue. You were sobbing, asking him to fuck you, to use his fingers, to give you his cock. It was music to his ears.
There was nothing hotter than the breathless cries of a woman desperate for pleasure. He closed his eyes and sealed his lips around your clit, listening to the sounds you made, allowing them to direct him. You were gasping, offering strained whimpers, choked moans that dissolved into senseless babble, which told him you were really, really close. When he heard the urgent litany of cries, he released your clit. You screamed and twisted as your hips chased the pleasure he’d taken away. Lloyd pinned you down with both hands, forcing you to be still.
“I thought you wanted dick, Princess? Do you? Or do you want to come on my tongue?”
Your response was incoherent. Taking pity on you, he slid a finger in your pussy. When the powerful muscles clenched around the digit, his balls tightened.
“Fuck, that’s hot. Literally - your pussy’s burning up, sweetheart. It’s throbbing already and trying to suck me in deep. Ah… good girl. That’s it. Spread your legs.”
He inserted a second finger and watched as your face creased with pleasure. You were so wet that he had no qualms about adding a third finger. The soft, spongy walls stretched to accommodate him and you keened.
“Open your eyes, Princess. Look at how good you’re taking my fingers. Your pussy’s so soft for me, fucking welcoming, isn’t she? Watch.”
Lloyd adjusted the angle, reaching past your g-spot, and probing for the deep area that would make your toes curl. The effect was instant - your breath caught, air hissed out of your lungs, and your thighs trembled. His cock was leaking in his boxers and his balls were aching, but the sight, the sounds, they were too good for him to heed the demands of his body.
He eased his fingers lower and teased your g-spot. When you were shivering, right on the brink of release, he shoved the digits deep, returning to the spot that affected you so intensely, mixing up the pleasure points so that you couldn’t get off. He was amazed at how receptive you were to the deep penetration.
Your expression was one of utter bliss, with your lips parted on a needy whine, your eyelids half-closed, and your forehead creased in rapture. When he retreated to stroke your g-spot some more your legs jerked, trying to close and protect the vulnerable area.
“Ah, ah… Princess. Naughty. Bad girl, you keep those knees apart or I’ll spank you.”
“S-s-sorry,” you gasped, tears streaming down your cheeks.
He rubbed your inner thigh, loving the way your muscles quivered under his fingers. It echoed the frantic clenching of your pussy. His thumb teased your clit and you shrieked, throwing your head back and bracing your arms behind you as your back arched off the bed. Lloyd pressed harder, rubbing your clit in firm circles. As he expected, your thighs seized, trying to push him away as the pleasure became overwhelming. He pressed your knee down and forced your legs to remain open.
You screamed, bucking against his hand. He was relentless. Your arms gave way and you crumpled to the bed, falling flat on your back.
“What’s wrong baby? Can’t handle my fingers? Do you want me to stop?”
“No! No, no, please, please, Lloyd!”
He kissed you fiercely, then eased into a slower tempo, gentling the kiss. You whimpered and clawed at his shoulders in a silent request for more. When he broke away, your eyes were filled with tears and wet tracks marred your cheeks. He kissed them and murmured.
“Poor baby. Can’t get off from me sucking your nipples, couldn’t come when I suckled your puffy little clit, and now you’re running away from my fingers. I don’t think you really want to come…”
“Please, I need you inside of me. Fuck me, damn it!”
He groaned, cock twitching, and rubbed your hip to soothe you.
“Are you gonna keep your legs open, Princess? Or will I have to take you over my knee?”
“Lloyd, don’t tease me, I can’t take anymore. I need you now. Right now!”
You broke down in tears and he drew you to his chest, kissing you as you sobbed.
“Okay, okay, it’s okay, Princess. I won’t tease you anymore.” He squeezed the fleshy part of your inner thigh. “Turn around, get on your hands and knees, and put your ass in the air.”
You scrambled to obey, going on all fours and positioning yourself like he’d requested - almost.
“I told you to put your ass in the air,” Lloyd said.
“It is!”
He realized you hadn’t understood the request. Moving behind you, he cupped your breasts and pinched your nipples, rolling them between his thumb and index finger. You pushed your hips back into his, whining. Lloyd tugged on your nipples, pulling them. You gasped and arched, lowering your chest to ease the sting. He used your nipples to guide your chest to the bed.
“That’s it,” he praised. “Put your ass up, honey. Just like that. Stretch your arms out. Reach toward the headboard.”
When you moved, your chest came off the bed. Lloyd pressed his palm between your shoulder blades and growled, “Princess…”
“What?!”
Your ass lowered and he jerked it back into position.
“Chest down, ass up,” he growled. “You stay just like this, or you’ll have a sore ass and raw nipples tomorrow morning.”
To emphasize the point, he smacked your ass lightly. You raised your hips and lowered your chest into the correct form. Lloyd traced the curve of your spine and admired the deep arch of your back.
“Now, how hard was that? Not too bad, huh? It’s easy to be a good girl. All you need to do is hold this position, sweetheart. I’ll do all the work.”
He dipped his fingers in your sex, circling your g-spot, and then sank the digits as far as he could reach. Your back arched into an even lower position at the sensation and he knew you were ready.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lloyd’s threat of giving you a sore ass and raw nipples echoed in your mind. You knew exactly what he meant by the latter because the other night you’d opened his nightstand drawer to borrow some lip balm and found the toys.
A bullet vibrator and a thick, curved stainless steel rod that you’d had to examine before realizing it was a dildo, were inside. In a small wooden box behind them, you’d found an anal plug and a fancy pair of nipple clamps. You’d slammed the drawer shut and forgotten all about borrowing his lip balm. Though you’d tried to put the matter out of your head, the nipple clamps had ignited your curiosity. You’d been wondering what they’d feel like for the past twenty-four hours.
Lloyd rubbed your lower back as he lined up your bodies. The broad head of his cock breached your opening, easily parting the slick, delicate tissues. His thrusts were slow as he invaded you inch by inch, making sure you could feel every ridge and vein. Even though you were soaked, the stretch was intense. Every part of your body was pulsating with need until the lust was a force of its own. When Lloyd eased back, you pressed your elbows into the mattress and rocked against him. His hands tightened on your waist, hips forcing you to stop.
“Lloyd,” you whimpered.
“I told you, Princess. Chest down, ass up, stay. Your chest isn’t down, is it?”
You groaned, feeling the heavy crest of his erection drag against your insides as he pulled out until just the tip was left.
“It’s not hard, is it, Princess?”
“Lloyd… don’t stop!”
You lowered your chest and extended your arms, assuming the correct position.
He leaned forward, and for a moment you thought he was going to use his body weight to pin you down, but he grabbed the handle of the nightstand drawer.
“You’re being a bad girl again. I warned you, Princess.”
You moaned at the sight of the silver nipple clamps, connected by a thin chain. Lloyd hauled you up and drew your back flush against his chest. He nuzzled your neck and rubbed the cool metal over your nipple, letting you feel it.
“What do you think, Princess? Do you want to try something new?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?” Lloyd murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.
“I want to try it.”
He squeezed your breast and guided the clamp over the nipple, opening the claw and teasing you. Goosebumps rose on your arms.
“Ready, Princess?”
You nodded and the clamp snapped shut. Pain raced straight to your core and you both groaned at the clench of your pussy.
“How does it feel?” he asked.
“It hurts!”
“Good.”
When he lifted your other breast, rolling your the puckered nipple to prepare it for its punishment, you assumed you knew what was coming. However, instead of a sharp sting, this clamp hurt worse. You lurched back, slamming into Lloyd’s chest. Immediately, you reached for the clamp, but he caught your wrist.
“No, don’t. Breathe, Princess. Deep breaths, that’s it.”
Tears swam in your eyes as he coached you. His hands stroked your body and the distraction of the calloused palms rubbing your waist and hips eased the pain. Suddenly, your breasts felt heavy and plump, despite the uncomfortable bite of the clamps.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Lloyd grunted.
You became aware of the flood between your legs and realized juices had dripped down your inner thighs. He thrust hard, seating himself deep in a single advance. This time instead of pushing your chest down, he grasped your wrists and used the leverage to force you to arch your back. His next thrust made you shudder.
“That’s a good girl,” he murmured.
His thrusts made the clamps rattle, their weight tugging on your breasts and triggering a wave of pain. You cried out.
“Easy, let me make it better.”
Lloyd reached between your legs, his fingers dipping into your folds and stroking your clit.
Instantly, the pain from your nipples faded, replaced by a fierce wave of pleasure. You clenched around him and the rough sound of male desire it elicited from Lloyd had you quivering, on edge. He rocked in and out, keeping his fingers moving on your clit to distract you from the searing pain of the clamps.
“Hold on, Princess.”
That was your only warning before he impaled himself deep, the head of his cock pressing at the entrance to your womb. You shuddered, gasping when his thrusts grew rougher and harder. Fire sizzled across your skin, the sensations racing up your spine until your entire body rippled. Lloyd’s grip on your wrists tightened as you twisted in a moment of ecstasy.
He growled. “Don’t round your back, Princess. I wanna go deep… come on, be a good girl and arch for me.”
You moaned and tried to meet his demand but your body was reacting, writhing and squirming of its own accord as he rooted himself so deep that you saw stars.
“Aaahhh! Lloyd!”
He jerked your wrists, forcing you to lower your shoulders, and jostling the clamps. You squealed and Lloyd growled in response. Your reaction seemed to spur him into action. Suddenly his deep, powerful thrusts were making the headboard rattle against the wall. It was so deep. In seconds, you were shaking on the edge of orgasm and the sensation of the nipple clamps had dulled to a pleasureable tightness.
Lloyd drew back, the width of his cock stroking over all your tender spots, before pausing at your entrance, leaving just the tip inside. You gasped as he slammed into you hard, burying himself all the way in a brutal thrust that made you scream. He shifted his hands higher, moving his grip from your wrists to just above your elbows. Held in this fashion, you were prevented from retreating or twisting away when the head of his cock ground into your g-spot.
Involuntary undulations rippled through your muscles, each invasion causing your channel to squeeze as it tried to entrap him. Each time they failed, your pussy reacted to the next thrust as a fresh chance to lock him in a vice grip. The sizzling pain from the nipple clamps acted like a conductor, carrying the sensations from your core and spreading them through your whole body. Violent waves of pleasure encompassed every muscle and nerve you possessed.
Lloyd grasped the chain that connected the nipple clamps and tugged. You screamed. He grunted, panting as he increased the pace, pounding you even harder. His teeth scraped against your shoulder and the flash of pain made you quiver. You could feel the orgasm approaching and knew it would be more powerful than anything you’d experienced before. A ripple of fear passed through your dazed mind, questioning if you could survive something so intense or if you’d disintegrate.
“That’s it, Princess. Good girl, squeezing my cock, taking me deep… ah, fuck!”
He swirled his fingers on your clit, thrusting faster, making the clamps rattle. Each impalement made you cry, until unintelligible words were all you could manage. He was rooted so deep, your nipples hurt so bad, yet at the same time, they felt so good… his fingers were tormenting your clit… you couldn’t catch your breath, it was too much…
The orgasm stole your breath. When you collapsed, Lloyd’s grip was the only thing that kept you from crushing the nipple clamps into the mattress. Your legs trembled, jerking and twisting as your muscles spasmed and pleasure turned you into its puppet. You were only vaguely aware of Lloyd’s release. You wouldn’t have noticed, except that the rush of wetness against your cervix triggered another, smaller orgasm. The second climax soothed the brutality of the first, easing your muscles from shaking into quivering. Slowly, your pussy relaxed its vise grip and your sex began pulsating with soft flutters that were as sweet as they were intense.
Lloyd rolled onto his side, taking you with him. One brawny arm curled around your waist as he wrapped himself around you like a human blanket. You whimpered, caught in the vestiges of climax still wracking your body. Lloyd held you tight and murmured soothing words that your frazzled mind couldn’t comprehend.
You felt disjoined from reality. The strongest sensation was the throbbing, molten heat, that pulsed between your legs - everything else seemed dulled and faint in comparison. You would have been content to lay boneless in Lloyd’s arms forever, but after a few moments he separated your bodies. The sticky trickle of liquid down your thigh made you stir, but physical exhaustion was stronger than discomfort. Lloyd nuzzled your shoulder.
He said something and even though you heard him, your brain just… refused to process. Then he was pulling you into his chest and arranging your legs across his thighs. His arm supported your back and your head fell limply against his neck.
“Princess… Come on, Princess. Open your eyes,” Lloyd purred, stroking your cheek.
“Tired...”
“I bet you are, but I have to take off those clamps, sweetheart.”
Your lashes fluttered. The dull throb of the nipple clamps wasn’t so unpleasant any more.
“They’re okay.”
“It’s better if I take them off now.”
“M’kay…”
You were so lost in the afterglow that you didn’t care what he did.
“This’ll hurt,” Lloyd warned, his fingers brushing the side of your breast.
Perhaps if you hadn’t been so relaxed, you would’ve been more concerned. When he opened the right clamp, you weren’t prepared. You shrieked, almost lurching out of his lap.
“Ow, ow, ow! Fuck! Fucking hell, damn it, holy shit…!”
Lloyd caught you when you tried to crawl away. He wrapped both arms around your waist and hauled you against his chest. You let him hold you, but hissed when he palmed your stinging nipple, rubbing it briskly.
“I know, it hurts. Let me rub it out.”
The sensation was intense, a blend of pleasure and pain that confused you.
“Ready for the other one?” he asked.
“No!”
“It has to come off, and it’ll hurt worse later.”
You grit your teeth.
“Fine, do it!”
His lips brushed your temple. “Deep breath… three, two, one-”
“Aaaaahh!”
Tears spilled down your cheeks.
“It’s okay,” Lloyd murmured, already stroking it, rubbing circulation back into the flesh.
He kissed your shoulder. “You did so good, Princess. Did you like the clamps? Hate them?”
“Yes.”
Lloyd chuckled.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Considering your limited sexual history, Lloyd planned to spend more time than he normally would have on aftercare. What he didn’t anticipate was that you’d snuggled into his chest and fall asleep two minutes after he’d rubbed the blood flow back into your nipples. Figuring that it was probably the thought that counted, and cuddling was still a form of aftercare, he stayed in bed and held you while you slept. It was just past eight o’clock and he wasn’t tired, but he lay there and let the sound of your steady breath relax him. He let his mind drift.
His thoughts returned to Shun Nguyen.
Lloyd’s arms tightened around you, wondering why he hadn’t seen it himself. Nguyen was walking a red flag. Why had he let you speak with him alone for the second interview? The man had direct knowledge of his girlfriend’s murder and highly credible domestic violence accusations. Lloyd had put you in a room with him anyways; now you were being stalked. You snuffled in your sleep, mumbling. Lloyd stroked the length of your spine until you settled against him. He needed to wake you up and feed you, but he didn’t have the heart to do it yet. You’d been through a lot today.
He should be more careful with you. In the dark, quiet room the weight of his mistakes, of his errors in judgment, felt closer than ever. The communication problems you were having… those were probably his fault, too. He needed to mend the rift in your friendship and earn your trust again. Granted, he couldn’t tell you that he had every intention of killing Shun Ngueyn when the opportunity presented itself. When he did, he wasn’t going to be stupid about it. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize himself or cause you distress. Thinking about your distress made him uncomfortable.
Why had he gone for the nipple clamps tonight? They were hardly a beginner friendly choice. The bullet vibrator would’ve been more appropriate, but he’d been curious to see what effect a little pain would have on your pleasure. Choosing the clamps wasn’t his only error in judgment tonight. Even if the intense orgasm that unraveled you in the end was something rare and beautiful, the position he’d put you in had been too dominating.
Lloyd tried to focus on the positives, reminding himself that you’d trusted him. You had consented to the clamps and didn’t that prove how deep your trust ran?
But he hadn’t let you bail out when the second clamp hurt. He’d pushed your limits without asking for permission. Lloyd closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. He didn’t want to take advantage of you. If he did, it would be by accident, but he needed to be careful. In the future, he had to slow down and make sure he only used toys that suited your experience level.
Guilt seared his conscience. The emotion, like anxiety, wasn’t one he usually suffered from. Feeling guilty was one of his triggers for rage, so he tried to explore the emotion and search out its roots.
You’d trusted him tonight and now he was feeling unworthy of it. The lack of communication when you’d chosen not to tell him about your stalker… that must have come from a lack of trust. You didn’t think he could remain calm and help you instead of flying off the handle. Your behavior suggested that your trust in him was more physical than emotional.
He frowned, astonished by the revelation. You were his closest friend. He trusted you with his feelings… No, that wasn’t true.
He hadn’t told you about his estrangement from Joe. He hadn’t told you about helping Elliot get into rehab or seeing his ex-girlfriend when he was in Idaho. He hadn’t told you that he had sisters or that his mother had abandoned him and left him that horrible box of cassette tapes. He hadn’t told you that his father used to lock him under the tack room floorboards in a sunken coffin. You knew a lot about him - more than anyone else did - but not enough. The root of his guilt was suddenly clear. You weren’t communicating with him because you didn’t trust him. What had seemed like a failure to communicate ran much deeper.
He hadn’t done anything to earn the level of trust he was expecting from you.
His chest tightened, compressing with each beat of his heart. He wanted to address the problem but at the same time he was afraid of making a mistake and unraveling the delicate threads of your relationship. What if those delicate threads were already fraying, and he was just now noticing it? Something had to be done. Retreating wasn’t an option. Your friendship would never be enough for him again, not after having you as his lover. At the same time, he couldn’t bear the thought of tethering you to him and stifling your freedom.
Was there a balance that accommodated both of your needs?
Claiming you as his own would be selfish. Lloyd stared at the ceiling, trying to work out what he wanted. Monogamy, a shared home, your complete, unhesitating trust - those were the desires surged to the forefront of his mind. In a word, he wanted commitment.
Commitment.
The word churned his stomach. Lloyd couldn’t help the revulsion that welled up at the idea. He couldn’t stop the revulsion anymore than he could prevent himself from yearning for it. He repeated the phrase in his mind, as if exposure could resolve his phobia.
Commitment.
Lloyd shut his eyes. He did the breathing exercises again, but this time the anxiety refused to loose its grip.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Masterlist
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Next - Chapter XXII
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The Princess - Tag List:
@denisemarieangelina @before-we-get-started @buckysteveloki-me @patzammit @badassbaker @meetmeatyourworst @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @thiskindahotkindamusic @jesgisborne @charmingprincess @amiets2 @seitmai @elle14-blog1 @chaoticsteverogers @fangirl-and-doctor-help @jesevans @openup-yourmind @kandierteveilchen @adoreyouusugar @awkwardgiraffe726 @pono-pura-vida @mysweetlittledesire @liecastillo @marantha @literaturelove @babyevansblog @lizzzaaaaaaaaaaa @thegirlnextdoorssister @ladygrey03 @cynic-spirit @rosedpetal @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @bambamwolf87 @yiiiikesmish @calwitch @peachiestevie @texmexdarling @crayongirl-linz @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @andydrysdalerogers @here4thefanfics @rogersbarber @spikeluv84 @dear-fifi
#lloyd hansen fanfiction#lloyd hansen fanfic#lloyd hansen fic#lloyd hansen smut#lloyd hansen x fem!reader#lloyd hansen x you#lloyd hansen x y/n#lloyd hansen x female reader#lloyd hansen x reader#lloyd x princess#the princess and the lawyer#the princess & the lawyer#series: the princess and the lawyer#series: the princess & the lawyer#lloyd hansen au#chris evans characters fic#chris evans characters#chris evans characters fanfic#chris evans character au#smut#18+ content#18+ minors dni
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Say My Name (Ari Levinson x f!reader)
thank you @flordeamatista for the beautiful gif !!!! I'm genuinely obsessed and so in love with it😭💕
pairing: Ari Levinson x f!reader (any race)
wc: 3.6k
warnings: soft dark vibes, unwanted physical touch, kinda yucky man vibes, ari saves the day, beefy!ari, possessiveness, smut (p in v), breeding kink, spanking, pet names [baby, princess]
summary: Your neighbor Ari has had enough of the men you bring home.
a/n: This is my first time writing for Ari, I hope I did him justice!! Please lmk what you thought <3
My masterlist
Josh holds your hand while you lead him up the stairs to your apartment. He smiles at you every time you look back, but it’s not very reassuring. The date hadn’t gone as well as you’d hoped. There’ve been no glaring red flags, but something about him is just… off.
You stop in front of your apartment, sliding the key in the lock, but you can’t help but let your eyes drift over a few feet to your neighbor’s door. Your mouth practically waters as you think about that man. He’s never said much to you, but every time you see him, all you can think about is his strong arms wrapping around you, his soft lips kissing you, his probably huge–
Josh clears his throat, and you jump a little, forced back to reality.
You unlock the door and shyly step inside, suddenly unsure of if you want him to come in. Josh doesn’t really give you time to think about it and crosses the threshold, giving you a smile that shows off his perfectly straight, blindingly white teeth.
“Thanks for inviting me back,” he says, closing the door behind him. “You know, I really like you.” Josh leans against the wall beside you, and you take a step back, trying to put some space between the two of you.
“Oh, um… thanks,” you stutter out, not sure how to respond. Josh quickly makes himself at home, dropping onto the couch and beckoning you over. He takes your hand the second you get close enough, and he tugs you down beside him, practically on his lap.
“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” Josh coos, running a hand up your back. It makes your skin crawl. You kind of feel bad; Josh hasn’t done anything wrong necessarily. The date was just bland. He didn’t seem all that interested until it was over. He’s plenty attractive, you suppose, though his personality could use some work. He was definitely better at flirting over text.
Josh’s fingers massage your shoulders a little too roughly, moving the fabric of your shirt with his actions. Your stomach turns at the feeling of him touching you. You don’t want to offend him or hurt his feelings, but you don’t want him touching you, either.
You clear your throat and stand abruptly, pushing away from Josh’s body. “Look, Josh,” you start, twisting your fingers together as you turn to face him. “You’re a great guy and all, but–”
“Come on, baby, don’t be like that.” You make a face at “baby”. You don’t like the way it sounds coming from his lips. Your neighbor called you that once and now it feels like he’s the only one allowed to say it ever again.
“Watch out, baby, wouldn’t want you bruising that pretty face of yours.”
“I think you should go home,” you tell Josh, stepping backward. Your legs hit the coffee table, trapping you in. Josh stands, clearly upset by your suggestion.
“Why’d you invite me back here if you were just gonna kick me out?” He crowds your space, and you can practically feel the irritation coming off him in waves.
“Honestly, I didn’t really invite you. You kinda invited yourself over.” Your voice is quieter than you want; you don’t sound as strong as you’d like. Josh scoffs and rolls his eyes, placing a hand on your cheek.
“You just don’t know what you want, and I’m here to show you.” Bile rises in your throat, and you act without thinking, pushing Josh as hard as you can and quickly getting far away from him. Josh recovers easily and follows you a second later.
“Please just go away,” you say, louder this time. “Really, Josh, please just go home.” Josh raises his eyebrows but keeps walking toward you, backing you against the kitchen counter.
“Now, why would I do that?”
Ari
I heard her come home with him. Josh. He’s an idiot, not at all good enough for her. Ever since she moved in, I’ve been on the verge of losing control. She’s so beautiful, ethereal, and made of light. The first day I saw her, I wanted her, but she’s quiet, reserved. My life isn’t easy, and I don’t want her to get wrapped up in all of it. All of that’s been changing.
A few months ago, she started dating. The walls in the building are thin. I hear her every time she talks herself through getting dressed for the shitty men she meets with. She tries so hard to please them, to impress them, and they always let her down.
I hear her every time she gets home and crawls into bed, and touches herself. I hear her quiet whimpers and moans.
“Please, Ari, please.”
She sounds so sweet, whispering my name as she comes undone.
Tonight, her date Josh has pushed her too far. There have been a few times when my princess’s dates have gotten too handsy, they’re overconfident and think they can talk their way into her bed, but she’s smarter than that.
Joshy here is fucking stupid. I seethe with anger as I hear my princess raise her voice at him. “Really, Josh, please just go home.”
I don’t think. I just act. My hand slides to my waistband, feeling the knife I keep holstered at all times. A moment later, I’m outside her door, reaching for her doorknob.
It’s unlocked. She didn’t even lock the door behind her. She has a lot to learn, but I will teach her. Oh, the things I will teach my beautiful little princess.
I step across the threshold, and instantly, Josh freezes. My princess stares with wide eyes between me and her date.
“What’s going on in here?” I ask, stalking toward Josh.
“Look, man, I don’t want any trouble,” he says, putting his hands up as if he’s innocent. He couldn’t be further from it. He put his hands on her, on what’s mine. He upset her. He’s made her cry.
Her tears shine so brightly against her skin, and it nearly brings me to my knees.
“It doesn’t look that way,” I say, my fingers easily finding the handle of my blade. I flick it open, the blade glinting in the light. Josh stares at the knife. He looks about ready to piss himself.
“Ari,” she whispers. It’s so quiet I almost miss it, but I don’t. I turn to look at her and feel the pull she has on me. Something deep in my chest connects me to her, and now, standing in her home, it feels even stronger.
I can only imagine what it will feel like when I hold her. Kiss her. Fuck her.
“Get away from her,” I tell Josh, pointing the tip of my knife in his direction. I’m just a few feet away. If he tries to run, he won’t get far. I find I quite like the idea of cutting him down as punishment for what he’s done, but then I look at my princess and see how scared she is.
She would never forgive me for making her endure that. “Get away from her,” I say again, practically growling.
Joshy finally makes a good decision and steps away from her, keeping his hands in the air.
I follow the man’s path, leading him toward the door, but the entire time my senses are attuned to my woman. She’s shaking where she stands, tears freely falling down her cheeks. I’ll take care of her the second this rat of a man is out of my sight.
I push Josh out the door, but he turns around abruptly, getting in my face. “Who the fuck are you, dude?” He asks incredulously.
“If you ever come here again, if you ever get close to that woman again, I’ll slit your throat. I won’t hesitate. Do you understand?” Josh stares, jaw dropping as he hears my words. He takes a deep breath and nods.
“Uh, yeah, I understand.” On that note, I slam the door in his face. His footsteps retreat a moment later.
I hear my woman take heaving, shuddering breaths behind me that snap me back to reality. I tuck my knife away and am at her side in an instant.
“Thank you, Ari,” she whispers. I stand in front of her, suddenly unsure of myself. I want to touch her, to hold her close, but I don’t want to scare her.
“Of course,” I say, trying to match her volume. My voice comes out gruff and rumbly. My princess shifts on her feet nervously. “Are you okay?” Of course she’s not okay; that was an awful question.
“It’s better now that you’re here,” she confesses, looking up at me through her wet lashes. Her cheeks are damp from her tears, but she is no longer crying. I rest my hand on her cheek, letting my thumb brush away the wetness from her skin.
She leans into my touch, seemingly comforted by my presence.
Electricity courses through my body, spurring me to hold her closer, touch her more. She is addictive, and I haven’t even gotten a taste yet.
“I would never let anything happen to you,” I whisper to her, leaning closer to her. This close, I can smell her perfume. It’s floral, the same one that lingers in the hall every time she passes through.
“I thought–” she pauses, chewing her lower lip. My thumb that had been caressing her cheek dips down, tugging her lip from between her teeth. It’s pink and slightly swollen as I rub the pad of my thumb along it.
“You thought what, princess?” I ask, reveling in the softness of her lip beneath my calloused skin. She breathes deeply when I call her princess, and I smirk.
“I thought you hadn’t even noticed me. You’re always cooped up in your apartment or at work, I guess. And I know you’re older than me, so I figured you weren’t interested. I just never thought you’d… want me.” Heat shoots down my spine. Of course I want her; I’ve wanted her from the second I saw her.
I hold her face in both my hands, relishing how soft she is, and take a breath.
“You’re right. I am older than you. I’m always working, and when I’m not working, I’m in my place. But you’re always on my mind, princess. I hear you sing to yourself while you’re cooking. I hear you talk to yourself when you’re frustrated. I hear you moan my fucking name at night while you touch yourself.” Her eyes go wide, pupils blowing.
“You– you heard me?” My grin widens, and I can’t help but chuckle at her sweet innocence.
“Yes, baby. You know how hard it’s been for me to hear you whimpering, begging for me, and not break down your door? You have no idea how much I want you. Need you.”
Her chest rises and falls quickly as heat rushes to her cheeks. She’s glowing, practically vibrating with need.
“Ari,” she mutters, mesmerized. My grin is now a full-blown smile, and I watch her carefully as I lean in to kiss her. She responds so perfectly to me, arching against my chest to close the distance between our lips.
Our height difference is noticeable, and I love the way she rises onto her toes to kiss me. She tastes sweet like candy and salty from her tears as my tongue swipes against the seam of her lips. She moans and opens for me, tangling her fingers in my hair. It’s gotten long, but I love the way her nails scratch against my scalp.
I devour her, drinking her in. I just can’t help myself. I thought I’d been addicted before, but now that she’s here in my arms, I know it’s so much more than that. To think I’ve gone so long without her…
My hands wander down her body, caressing her neck, her curves, every inch of her skin that I can reach. She responds to each touch with a whimper or a tug of my hair, egging me on.
“I need more,” I groan against her, sliding my hands down to her knees and hoisting her up onto the counter. Her ass hits the cool marble, and she shrieks at the temperature, making me chuckle. She’s wearing a pair of flowy pants that I easily pull down her body and toss onto the ground somewhere behind me.
Next, I pull her shirt over her head. My woman is a beautiful sight in just her panties and a bra, but I know she will look even more stunning naked and writhing beneath me.
My cock was already hard, but now it’s almost painful.
“Ari,” she whimpers as I step between her legs. I run my hands up her legs, squeezing the flesh of her ass before letting my fingers wander up further to her breasts. I love the way my name sounds when she says it.
“Fuck, princess.” She arches against me and urges me to tug her bra off of her. I rid her of the garment and moan at the sight of her perfect body. Her panties are gone a moment later and I devour her with my eyes.
My hands rest on her shoulders, thumbs tucked under her jaw to keep her looking at me. Her pupils are blown and her lips open as she breathes heavily. She’s so worked up and I haven’t even done anything to her yet.
“Ari,” she says again, licking her bottom lip. I lean in and kiss her hard before I tug her off the counter. Her legs wrap around my waist and she gently grinds against my abdomen, seeking friction. I bite her lip and soothe it with my tongue.
“Tell me what you want, baby,” I whisper against her lips. The layout of her apartment is the same as mine, so I already know where her bedroom is. The door is open and I take a moment to look around at her space. Gently, I place her down on the bed and grin at the thought of fucking her here. Of giving her a new memory to touch herself to.
“I want you, Ari,” she whispers, looking so sweet and innocent on her bed. I cock my head, resting my hands on my hips. She sheepishly looks away but I kneel down and force her to look at me again. She takes a big breath before continuing. “I want you inside me, Ari. I need you.”
The fact that I don’t immediately rip my clothes off and pounce on her is a testament to my self-control, but she whittles it away with the breathy moan she ends the sentence with.
I pull my belt off and start to unbutton my pants, loving the way her eyes follow each movement. When I step out of my jeans and pull my boxers down, my princess practically drools. I laugh at her expression, it goes straight to my ego.
“You think you can handle it princess?” I ask, fisting the head of my cock. She nods, in a daze, and crawls toward me. Her fingers wrap around the base of my cock and I bite back a moan when I feel how soft her skin is. She works her hand up and down, replacing my hand with her own, and swipes her tongue over the head gingerly.
“Yes, Ari,” she tells me, sucking me into her hot mouth. I run my fingers through her hair, letting her take me at her own pace. I let her control this moment, knowing that soon all she’ll want is to lose control. She hums around my cock and it nearly sends me over the edge.
Even though I don’t want to leave the heat of her mouth, I gently push her off me and guide her onto her back. I kneel between her legs and litter kisses along the insides of her thighs. Her fingers twist in my hair as she tries to tug me toward her center, where she wants me most.
I bite the flesh of her thigh before I wrap my lips around her clit. She moans loudly, legs trapping my head. I smile against her pussy as I taste her, my tongue darting out to lap up everything she gives me. I wrap my arms around her legs and hold her tightly, not wanting to let her escape from my grip. She wiggles her hips and grips the sheets tightly with her fingers as I work her up and up.
I want her to come more than I want to breathe.
She chants my name like a prayer, each time breathier and higher than the last, as she approaches her climax. She pulls my hair harshly, but the bite of pain just fuels me to bring her over the edge.
“Ari!” She shouts as she comes, grinding against my tongue. I don’t want to stop, but I pull back when she starts to whine with sensitivity.
“You’re so perfect, princess,” I tell her, kissing up her abdomen. I wrap my lips around one of her taut nipples and suck it into my mouth. Her fingers scrape up my back and tug at my hair. “So fucking perfect.”
I grind against her, my cock slipping through her center and knocking her clit. She shudders beneath me as I give her a taste of what’s to come.
“Ari,” her voice is low and raspy.
“You want me to fuck you baby?” I ask, teasingly, as I give her other breast some much needed attention. “You want me to make you feel good?” She nods quickly, whimpering.
“Please, Ari,” she groans. “Please.” I line my cock up with her entrance and slide in, inch by inch, making her feel all of it. Her hands grip my shoulders and her eyes screw shut as I stretch her. She’s so fucking tight it feels like I’m suffocating.
“You’re squeezing me so good, princess,” I tell her, dropping my head to the crook of her neck. When I’m fully inside her, I take a second to let her feel how deep I am inside of her. I slide one of my hands between us and press on her lower belly, adding pressure.
“Oh my god,” she whimpers. I grin against her skin as I pull nearly all the way out. I thrust into her, hard and fast, barely giving her time to breathe. I set a brutal pace, one that sends electricity shooting down my spine.
She clings to me, taking what I give her. She loses herself to me, lets me use her as I please. She’s more perfect than I ever could have imagined.
“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” I moan, biting her shoulder, “Fucking made for me.”
I fuck her like it’s the last thing I’ll ever do. I fuck her like she’s killing me.
My beautiful princess writhes beneath me and I pull back, turning her over. She lifts her hips in the air, arching her back to show off her perfect body, and I moan at the sight. She will be the death of me. Such a sweet death, that would be.
I run my hands over the globes of her ass and smack the right side. She jolts below me but I see the smile that flits over her lips. I soothe the ache before smacking the other side. She moans, but I want more than that.
I spank her again. “Say my name,” I grunt, thrusting my cock between her cheeks. I ache to be inside of her, but I need her to work for it.
She wiggles her ass and I give her two more slaps. “Say my name.”
“Ari,” she whispers, gripping the sheets below her. Her brow is furrowed, eyes screwed shut.
I slip my cock into her and thrust all the way in, hitting a new spot deep inside of her. She sucks in a tight breath, squeezing me tighter. “Ari,” she moans.
The way I fuck her is desperate, it gives away how much I fucking need her, how much I crave her.
“Say my name,” I tell her, punctuating each word with a deep thrust. She moans my name over and over again, and each time she says it I spank her.
We’re both close to finishing, both on the edge of ecstasy.
I grip her hips and drive into her harshly, loving the way my princess goes limp below me. The only thing holding her up is my hold on her hips.
“Fuck, baby, I need you to come one more time.” She nods and I watch one of her hands disappear between her legs.
“Please come inside me, Ari,” she whispers, burying her face in the bed. Fuck.
“Gonna fucking fill you up, princess,” I grunt, picking up my pace. “Gonna fuck a baby into your pretty pussy.” My words push her over the edge, and I feel her clench around me. She bucks against me and I hold her hips tightly to me.
I come hard, filling her just like I promised to. Every muscle in my body tightens, and the only thing that relaxes me is my princess’s soft breaths as she comes down from her high.
Together, we collapse against the bed, and I pull her into my chest. My cock is still semi-hard inside of her, but I have no intention of pulling out. Not right now, not when she’s so soft against me.
“You did so perfect for me,” I whisper, nudging my nose against her ear. “So perfect, princess.” She settles in, melting into my embrace, and I take it all in.
I’m never letting another man touch her, not now that I’ve felt her, tasted her. Fucked her.
She’s all mine.
Forever.
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𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒓’𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒏
hello, I want to thank @foxyprincessworld for inspiring me to write this.
connected to fairytale
summary - it has been a while since meeting ari in the woods, and while he goes out to gather food for you two, you manage to get yourself stuck.
warning - smut, inter-species, tiny fairy, stuck, slight fingering, creampie.
18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
Ari had gone out to gather some berries and vegetables from your little garden outside the cabin, ensuring you’d be stocked up for the rapidly approaching winter. While he was out picking, you were fluttering around the house, ensuring things were clean and neat. Since you met Ari that fateful night, becoming his partner, the cabin also became your home.
You had been cleaning all day in your human form, making sure you could cut the cleaning time in half with your size before finding a spot that no large thing could reach. You wave your hand, allowing your magic to dance over you and shrink you into your fairy form. You fly over to the area, noticing through the small hole that it has become dirty. You knew Ari didn’t care about these things, but you did. So, you began to clean, softly groaning as you kept missing a few spots, pulling yourself further into the tiny hole, your hips catching onto the sides. You wiggle, huffing when you realise that you are stuck. “Oh no… I do hope Ari gets back soon.” You let out a cute little sneeze as the dust tickles your nose.
Ari grins at the basket in his hands, loving that it’s filled to the brim and that he can show you what he’s managed to gather. He heads into the cabin, setting down the basket on the table and then looks around confused, wondering where you are as you usually came to greet him. “Fairy? Bear here!” He grunts, scrunching his nose. “Little Fairy?!” Ari begins to walk deeper into the house, becoming worried that something may have happened to you.
“I’m here, Bear. I’m okay. I’m just stuck...” You sigh and allow magic to flow through you, appearing before your man.
Ari stares at the bright ball, following it as it slowly leads him to where you are stuck. The ball disappears when Ari stops where you are, and his eyes widen. “Oh, Fairy! How?” He can’t deny that his cock twitches when his eyes land on your exposed arse, your dress lifted from wiggling. “Stuck?” You still weren’t able to teach him how to speak proper sentences, but you found it endearing with his short answers. Knowing he tries so hard, his face always scrunches up, trying to find the right things to say, and the thing you love most about him is even though it becomes hard for him sometimes, he never gives up.
“Yeah, Bear. I’m stuck, and my magic cannot get me out of this one.” You pout, not noticing that the more you wiggle, the more that becomes exposed, causing the giant bear behind you to become aroused. “Could you please help me?”
Ari nods, too preoccupied with how your arse jiggles and your sweet honey pot glistens. He licks his lips at the thought of honey and how delicious you taste. “Help after,” Ari growls out, quickly ridding himself free from his pants and gripping his thick, monstrous cock. He begins to stroke it, grunting as pre-cum leaks from his angry tip.
“What? Ari, what do you mean after? Bear?” He ignores you, too lost in his mind now. You softly squeak as his finger connects with your dripping cunt. You now understand what is happening and allow your magic to wash over you. “You can enter, Bear.” You whimper when he pushes his thick finger inside, stretching you and curling it, ensuring you are wet enough to take him.
“Okay?”
“Okay.” Your head falls forward as he pulls his finger out and replaces it with his member. His tip stretches you wide as Ari pushes in. “Oh, god…” He rests his hands against the wood, fucking into you harder and faster, enjoying how your tight walls squeeze him.
“Not god.” Ari growls, fucking into you harder. “I Bear!” Your tiny body rocks back and forth, and your eyes roll back as the pleasure intensifies. Your walls pulsate like crazy around Ari, causing a groan to slip out. “My Fairy!” Your arousal builds, leaking alongside his thick base, coating him and creating a white creamy ring. “So pretty and tiny.” He hums, staring down at your stretched-out cunt with a dazed look, entranced by how hot it looks.
Your fingers curl, nails digging into your palm. “B–bear! I’m going to–” You cut yourself off with a strangled moan. Your vision becomes white as your walls squeeze around him, and your juices squirt out of you. You fall limp, exhaustion hitting you. Ari continues to thrust into you, throwing his head back as his balls tighten, cock twitching. He releases thick amounts of cum into you, coating your walls.
Once Ari empties himself, his cock softens, and he slowly pulls out of you. “Bear, help now.” He grumbles, wiping off the sweat on his forehead before punching the wood, snapping it enough to rip it away and pull you out of the tiny hole. He lies you on the palm of his hand, looking down at you with a soft look, “Fairy, okay?”
You snuggle into his palm, looking up at him with a sleepy smile. “I’m okay, Bear. Thank you.” You give him a soft tap and sigh as he moves you to the chair. Your hand waves, and you feel your body slowly grow, allowing you to become human-sized. You stretch, kissing Ari’s palm as he rests it on your cheek. “How did your picking go, Bear?”
The smile on his face makes you think he’d be able to brighten up a room with how bright and gorgeous it is. Ari quickly moves over to the basket and brings it back to you, showing you the many things he picked. You smile, eyes dancing around the many different colours. “You did wonderful, Bear! I could maybe make some soup for dinner and a pie for dessert.” You slowly stand, legs feeling like jelly.
Ari places the basket back down and pulls you into him by the hips. He looks down at you with such love and adoration, like he cannot believe he has you in his life. “Bear love Fairy… S–so much.” He wraps an arm around your waist while his hand cups your cheek, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss on your lips. “Pretty Fairy.”
You smile, eyes becoming clouded with love. “I love you too, Bear, so much. My big handsome bear.” Your hand rests flat on his chest, and the other cups his cheek, stroking the soft beard underneath before moving up to scratch between his cute bear ears. “Why don’t you get some rest? You’ve been working so hard lately.” Your lashes flutter as you continue to stare up at him. “I’ll prepare dinner, okay?”
Ari shakes his head, huffing. He peppers kisses against your face, smiling at how beautiful you look. “I help.”
That night you and Ari make dinner, and as that is cooking, he helps you prepare dessert. You couldn’t have wished for anything better. He’d wrap you in his arms as you made the food before pulling you over to the couch, holding you against him while you both waited for dinner. Your hand rested against your stomach, knowing that when you finally told the news to Ari, he would be so happy. You’d finally have everything you had ever wished for.
thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
#imyourbratzdollwork#chris evans#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans characters#chris evans x female reader#chris evans x reader#chris evans drabble#ari levinson imagine#ari levinson#ari levinson angst#ari levinson fanfic#ari levinson fanfiction#ari levinson fic#ari levinson fluff#ari levinson x fem!reader#ari levinson x female reader#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x y/n#ari levinson x you#ari levinson au#ari levinson one shot#werebear ari x fairy reader#werebear ari levinson#chris evans angst#chris evans blurb#chris evans character#chris evans fan fic#chris evans fan fiction#chris evans fandom#chris evans fanfic
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Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [4]
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: 4,609
A/N: omg i’m back from the dead with an update, lol. thank you all for being patient!! i really hope you all enjoy this next installment. i think it’s pretty safe to say… the shit is hitting the fan. mind the warnings! divider by @firefly-graphics
You sleep so fitfully it wakes both you and Ransom, your husband blinking blearily at you in the dark as he asks if you’re okay.
“I’m fine,” you mutter, turning over onto your side with a frustrated sigh. A quick glance at the digital clock on the bedside table tells you it’s after four in the morning. The last you looked, it had been just after one-thirty, and you aren’t really sure where the time’s gone. You can’t get comfortable, and though the pills normally make you drowsy, you find yourself frustratingly awake. Ransom mumbles something you don’t really catch before settling back down again.
With a huff, you slide out from underneath the covers, and the tile flooring is cool on your feet. If you can’t sleep, you might as well walk. You pull a hoodie out of the dresser, and slip from the room. You squint into the darkened living room, and sigh with relief when you find no one there. On your way past, you sneak a piece of fruit from the refilled bowl on the counter, peeling the banana on your way out the door.
You immediately feel better outside, taking a deep breath. The air is tinged with salt from the sea, and you suck down grateful lungfuls of it, sighing. You don’t know how to explain your drop in mood after dinner, excepting maybe hormones. Either that, or—
No. You shake yourself. You’re not going to think about it. Not going to give that tiny, ridiculous seed any leeway to sprout. Besides, you have more pressing things to be concerned about—like the fact that you’ve already pregnancy’d out of your swimsuit. What you had thought was gas upon packing your bikini a few days ago is now clearly something else. You’re just on the cusp of two months along now, and you supposed—rather foolishly, apparently—that you would not yet be showing.
You glare at the slight protrusion and take another bite of your banana, all while getting the distinct feeling that your belly was glaring right back at you.
“You’re supposed to be working with me here, kid,” you mutter. You know that part of the purpose of this trip is to spring the news, but you don’t want to hop on the train to grandparent-town before you and Ransom are ready. Though it’s just a bump, you rub your belly somewhat absently as you stare down at the ocean.
“Mind if I join you?” Lloyd sounds like Lloyd when he speaks. You turn in the chair to look at him. He raises an eyebrow. You want to say no—and you can tell he knows it too.
“No,” you say after a moment, biting back the put upon sigh that threatens to escape right after it. Try to get along. Try for Ransom. “Go ahead.” He settles himself in one of the other patio chairs, before raising an eyebrow.
“Having trouble sleeping?” He asks, and you nod with a grimace.
“Um, yeah.” You nod, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I think it’s, well. You know.” You point at your stomach, and Lloyd laughs.
“Kid keeping you up already? That was fast.” He gestures down at the slight swell, and even though it’s hidden by your t-shirt, you get the feeling he might have noticed it before you did. “I figured they had to be out of the womb for that.” You laugh in spite of yourself, and the sound surprises both of you. You aren’t used to Lloyd being funny. Well, funny to you.
“Yeah,” you say. “Me too.”
“Have you thought of any names yet?” He asks. You have, privately. Ransom had said he didn’t want to pick a name too early—how can we name a kid we haven’t met, Sweetheart— but you can’t help it, looking up baby name lists in secret, going through each letter section and writing down the ones you like in the notes app on your phone.
“What, did Ransom not tell you?” You say saltily. “We’re waiting.” Lloyd rolls his eyes.
“Yes, but that’s not what I asked. I asked if you thought of any.” Your head snaps up, and you can’t help but look at him, surprised. Lloyd’s observant, you know that’s a quality both he and Ransom share, but you can’t help but be shocked at the depth of said observations.
I didn’t know he knew me so well.
The three of you had known each other since college, of course, but being that you spent most of your time with Ransom—and that hadn’t changed since you’d gotten married—you hadn’t realized Lloyd had had as much time to observe you as he apparently had.
“Well, yes,” you admit after a moment, biting your lip as an embarrassed smile blossoms on your face. “I guess I’ve… thought of a few.” Lloyd smiles and leans in conspiratorially.
“You want to share with the class?”
You narrow your eyes. “Why? So you can run and tell Ransom I didn’t?” Lloyd scoffs, and has the gall to look offended.
“Me? You wound me, Princess. I would never tell tales about something told to me in confidence.” He holds up his right hand and crosses his fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
“You never were a boy scout.” You say flatly, and Lloyd laughs.
“Fine. Agent’s honor, then.” He stares at you imploringly, and with no small amount of hesitance, you fish your phone out of the pocket of your shorts and pull up the tab.
“Well, I… I have them separated, you know. Boy names, girl names, neutral names, I’m sure you get it.”
“Start with the boys.” Lloyd leans back in his chair, his hands behind his head. He reminds of you of Ransom just then, and guilt fills your stomach with cold lead. This is a conversation you should be having with your husband, the father of your child, first and foremost. Not his brother. You swallow thickly.
“Maybe… maybe I should wait for Ransom,” you say guiltily, but Lloyd waves his hand at you, dismissing your concerns.
“Come on, Princess. It’s not like you’re picking now, right?” You nod reluctantly. “Right. We’re family now, aren’t we?” It’s tempting—you’ve been dying to talk names with Ransom. But with him being stuck on waiting until the baby actually comes to discuss it—at least for now—you’ve been shit out of luck.
“He’s my husband Lloyd. It’s a little different.” You reply, and he raises an eyebrow.
“Is it?” He hums, tapping a finger on the wide arm of the chair. His signet rings clack dully against the wood as he cocks his head at you. Your face heats, and you don’t really know why.
“Y-yes,” you say, forcing a laugh. “Very.”
The way he says family makes you shudder, like he wants to say something else entirely—you just don’t know what. Ransom would say you were being ridiculous, looking for something that isn’t there. He did want me to get closer to Lloyd…
“I guess you’re right, though,” You say as you glance back down at the app. “About, um. Family.” Resigned, you scroll down to the first name. “I really like Harlan,” you begin, and Lloyd laughs.
“After the old geezer? God, Ransom’ll love that. Keep going.” You’re pleasantly surprised at how enthused you feel at his approval—perhaps that means Ransom will like them too. Heartened, you continue.
“Oliver, I really like Oliver. And Devin.”
“Devin’s not bad.”
You run through the list, finding it shockingly easy to talk to Lloyd. You reason that it’s because he’s not showing off, or parading something expensive around in front of you with that weird, knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth. When you run out of names, the two of you sit in silence for a while, watching the dark water.
“I think Ransom will like your list.” Lloyd says after a lengthy silence. “They’re good names.”
“Thanks.” The sky is just barely beginning to lighten at the edges. How long have I been sitting out here? You stand up hurriedly, stretching. “I should, um. Head inside and try to get some sleep before everyone gets up,” you say, shuffling awkwardly between his chair and yours to get to the door behind you. Lloyd makes an approving noise low in his throat.
“Yeah, you need your baby-sleep,” he says, and when you look back at him, he winks. “You have a good night, Princess.” Again, you feel like he wants to say something else with the nickname, like it has an unspoken connotation you don’t know.
“Um, yeah,” you say, turning to avoid his gaze as you shuffle back inside. “You too.”
—
You wake mid-morning, your stomach churning as you race to the bathroom, a hand clapped tightly over your mouth. Acid burns your throat as you empty your after-midnight snack into the bowl, groaning. You lean back against the tub, the porcelain thankfully cool against your back through your t-shirt. It feels good against your heated skin.
You grimace at the foul taste in your mouth as you get up, leaning hard against the sink as you splash water on your face and rinse the bile from your tongue. You’re glad Ransom’s not there—his doting is becoming exhausting, especially now that Lloyd is doing it too. Their constant overbearing presence is enough to make you glad you’d woken up alone. The shower is still wet from Ransom’s turn in it, the stone flooring in the stand-up shower warm to the touch.
The villa’s bathroom is as luxurious as the rest of it, equipped with a jacuzzi tub in the corner opposite the shower. The water is perfect when you step in, and you stand there, absently enjoying the feel of it. The sound of a knock startles you, and you lean your head around the foggy glass divider that separates the shower from the rest of the bathroom.
“Ransom?”
Your husband pokes his head into the bathroom.
“Oh good,” he says, stepping inside. “You’re up. I know you had trouble sleeping last night.” There’s a sympathetic note to his voice. “I’m sorry.” You duck back around the partition, shivering at the cool air that gusts over you with his entrance. He crosses the room with long, purposeful strides to poke his head into the shower. Ransom pays no mind to the water as he kisses your cheek, worried little frown working its way onto his lips.
“Are you okay, Sweetheart?”
You shrug, leaning back into the spray with a sigh. “I’m just tired,” you say, and he nods, pressing another kiss to your forehead. You’re half expecting him to make a joke about you being tired on vacation, but he doesn’t, his eyes dropping down to the swelling curve of your belly.
“Well, you’re baking a person in there,” he replies with a smile. “It makes sense that you’d be tired.”
You make a face, and he laughs. “Still.” You run wet hands through your dripping curls, massaging your scalp with the tips of your fingers. “Ugh, what time is it, anyway?”
“Almost time for lunch,” Ransom says, and you can see his silhouette through the frosted glass as he reaches for the sprayable sunscreen on the bathroom counter. “That’s why I came to get you, I figured you might be getting hungry.” It’s true that your stomach is painfully empty. “And, you know, Linda and Richard are here.”
You groan, smacking your palm to your forehead with a wet clap. “Oh my God. I’m sorry, I totally forgot they were getting in today.” Great. You and Linda haven’t exactly been close—her gin-doused toast at your wedding had been more of a lament over the loss of her son than a celebration of your union. In fact, the only person in a worse mood at the reception than Linda was—
Lloyd.
“It’s okay. They’re settling in, getting all unpacked, and besides, I told Linda you weren’t feeling well.” You swallow your retort as you turn off the water and force a smile. You know your mother-in-law well enough to know she had most definitely taken your absence as a personal affront. Despite your attempts to deepen the relationship, she’d remained aloof, barely tolerating your presence at the few family events you were actually invited to before the wedding, and enduring your frequent presence after said nuptials with simmering contempt.
In fact, you were surprised that she was even coming at all, all things considered. Ransom seems to notice the look on your face and he scoffs, reaching forward to tap the tip of your nose with one finger.
“Don’t be like that.”
“Be like what? I didn’t even say anything,” you grumble, grabbing your towel and shimmying past him. “Besides, it doesn’t matter what I’m like, your mother hates me.” Ransom scowls at you as you plant yourself on the counter, rubbing lotion and sunscreen into your dewy, post shower skin.
“She doesn’t hate you.” You fix him with a look, and Ransom holds his hands up placatingly. “She doesn’t. She just… she’s… protective.” You raise an eyebrow as you stare at him, pressing your lips into a firm line. “Look, all of that stuff aside, she’s here now, and I think she’s really trying to meet us halfway. And I know she’s going to be especially excited about…” He trails off as he rests a hand on the swell of your belly. When you don’t respond, he pouts a little, sticking his lower lip out until it trembles.
“I did it for your father,” he reminds you, and you sigh, throwing your hands up.
“Fine,” you relent. You grimace at Ransom in the mirror, and he pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your wet hair. “But I’m doing the announcement. You’re riding high on your locket gift, you gotta give me something.” You sigh, and he laughs. It’s infectious, and you can’t help but smile.
“Deal.” Ransom kisses your cheek. “Come on, let’s get some breakfast in you two.”
—
Breakfast—brunch, really—is served on the beach. You’re not sure when the tables had been set up, but they’re laden with fresh fruit, waffles, oatmeal, bacon—too many things to count. The anxiety that grips you at the sight of the small crowd gathered there is almost enough to make you turn around, to tell your husband to shove his deal, and return to the safety of your hotel room, but you swallow the urge. As if he’s privy to your thoughts, Ransom squeezes your hand affectionately.
“Don’t worry about it, Sweetheart.” He whispers, one hand on your back as he helps you down the stairs and into the sand. “It’s gonna be like cuddling a basket full of kittens, you’ll see.” You find your mother-in-law in the crowd, her lips pressed thin and brow furrowed as if she’s already displeased about something, despite the fact that they’d only just arrived.
Maybe, if one of those kittens is a grizzly bear.
You offer your husband a strained smile.
“Thanks, Ran.” You make your way across the warm sand, dreading every step.
“Look who’s up!” Your father is the first to see you, waving as he stands up from the table. He claps Ransom on the back vigorously. “Glad you could join us. This one wouldn’t let us touch a thing till you all got here.” He jerks his thumb at Lloyd. He grins at you over your father’s shoulder.
“I thought Sleeping Beauty would appreciate us waiting.” You don’t know why, but you feel guilty about your midnight conversation with your brother-in-law, like you’d crossed into unfamiliar territory. You offer him a strained smile.
“Thanks.”
You make your rounds, greeting your family as you apologize for your tardiness. Your brother hugs you warmly.
“Look at this spread,” he says, gesturing at the table. “Your in-laws go all out.”
“Lloyd doesn’t do anything halfway,” you laugh dryly. “I’m just happy you’re here.” You’re reminded of how intense he’s been this entire trip, how focused he is on ensuring everything goes well—almost like he’s the one trying impress his in-laws, and not Ransom. You spot Linda, deep in conversation with your mother, and as you grimace as Ransom steers you in her direction. When she sees you, her tight mouth curves into what you assume is meant to be a smile.
“And I—Oh! There you are.” She hugs Ransom, pulling him tightly against her chest. Your husband had told you early on that his mother was not the most… publicly affectionate of people, and as she pulls him but wonder who the show is for—you, or your parents. “I’m so happy to see you both.” She greets you in a more muted fashion, but you are still unprepared for her over-familiar embrace. It’s a far cry from the last time you’d seen her, coldly wishing you a “Merry Christmas” over a pack of wholesale department store socks.
You try to smile anyway, awkwardly fitting your arms around her shoulders.
“Its, um, it’s good to see you too?” You curse inwardly at yourself for making it sound like a question, but Linda either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care as she regards you warmly.
“Lloyd’s told me you all have been having a ball,” Linda laughs, clapping her hands excitedly. “I love that.” You nod stiffly, unsure of what to say.
“Um. Yeah. It’s been lovely.”
“I was just so excited to come, you know family is everything.” She nods sagely, as if dispensing priceless advice, instead of parroting what Lloyd’s been saying to you for four days straight. tWhen it comes down to it, it’s really all we have.”
“I, um. I couldn’t agree more.” You jump a little as Ransom rests his arm around your shoulders, but quickly lean into the reassurance of his touch. “Thanks for coming.”
“We couldn’t be happier,” Ransom replies, leapfrogging effortlessly off of your awkward input. “In fact, we’re so happy all of you could come.” He speaks louder, and you swallow thickly, knowing where he’s leading you. Ransom looks to you pointedly, and suddenly, despite your earlier determination, you find yourself struggling to speak.
“I—um, yes. God, sorry. I’m not good at speeches, you guys know that,” you reply, a self-deprecating little smile worming its way onto your lips. “I’m just, um. I’m really thankful you could all be here. Blending families is never easy.” You look down at your feet. “But I’m so glad we’re all trying. My parents told me that it takes a village to raise a child, so… hopefully I’ve found my village.” You rest a hand on your belly as you peek at your family through your lashes.
Oh no. No, they’re all angry, they—
“Oh my GOD!” Your mother shrieks, before bursting into tears as she charges forward, hugging you tightly. She places her hand over your own, wiping messily at her face with the other. “You think you could have buried the lead any deeper?!” She squats down until she’s face to face with your belly. “Hello in there!”
“Oh my God, Mom—” Your father’s embrace is tighter than ever, and you can feel his happy tears soaking into your hair. “Dad, you’ll kill us both like this,” you wheeze, and he releases you with a cough, wiping nonchalantly at his wet eyes. Linda hugs you again, pressing lipstick-stained kisses to your cheeks as she babbles about how happy she is to be a grandmother, and you bear it with as much patience as you can.
Lloyd clears his throat, holding up both a bottle of champagne and several flutes.
“A toast, maybe?” He asks, before popping the cork. As he’s pouring, he winks at you. “Sorry Princess. None for you.” You return his smile thinly. Lloyd finishes filling the glasses, and your families grab them hurriedly as he lifts his own. Lloyd’s eyes find yours.
“To blending families.”
The words seem to echo in your ears uncomfortably. You mumble your agreement as you look away, twisting your wedding ring with nervous fingers. It lingers in your mind even as you try to dismiss it. Your father clears his throat.
“Now can we eat?”
You’re careful of your queasy stomach, picking at a few slices of toast along with a few mouthfuls of fresh fruit. As the rest of your family socializes, you wander down to the water, standing with your feet in the surf as you eat.
“I just wanted to say congrats again.” Linda repeats herself as she comes to stand next to you. “I really can’t tell you how happy I am.”
“Thank you,” you reply with a stiff nod. “We’re… we’re really excited too.”
“To see my boys be family again… It’s worth anything.”
For a moment you’re confused. “I mean, babies do bring families together,” you say, your brows furrowing. Linda shakes her head.
“You don’t understand. I mean, how could you? You tore them apart without even thinking twice about it. But this is a new chapter for you—for all of us. I think it’s going to be wonderful.”
You scoff disbelievingly. “I didn’t ‘tear your family apart’,” you reply sharply. “You disagreeing with Ransom’s choices—you know what? I really don’t want to argue right now.” You say, smiling tightly. “Thank you for coming. Really.” You ball your hands into tight fists around the rim of your paper plate as you march back toward the table. You toss the plate into the trash with more force than necessary. Ransom rests a worried hand on your shoulder.
“Hey are you—”
“I’m going for a walk.” You grit the words out through your clenched teeth. “I just need a couple of minutes.” Ransom moves to follow you, but you shake your head. “Alone.” You aren’t in the mood to hear him defend his mother, not today. He watches you silently as you about-face, storming off down the beach.
You march steadily until you can no longer hear the sounds of music or conversation, following the shoreline until your family are just vaguely people-shaped specks against the sand. There are more rocks on this side of the little cove, and you pick your way carefully across their slick surfaces as you walk. You bend down to sift through the wet sand for a couple of small stones, and you toss them angrily into the water one by one.
“Family,” you mutter, watching a rock skip across the water’s surface twice before throwing another one. “Maybe that’s where he fucking gets it.” Ransom’s heavy sigh makes you turn, slipping a little on the rocks.
“Careful, don’t want you falling and hurting that pretty head. I need you to tell me where who’s getting what.”
You turn to glare at him sharply. “I told you I needed some space.”
“I gave you some,” he replies, smiling amusedly. “I waited a whole ten minutes before I followed you out here.” You scowl at your husband, before turning back to the water, hurling another stone into the shallow water with a satisfying plop. “Come on, Sweetheart. Talk to me. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”
You release an exasperated breath as he makes his way over to you.
“You know what’s up, Ransom.” You fix him with a tired look over your shoulder. “Your mother loves to hate me.”
“I know.” His soft reply takes the wind out of you, leaving you sputtering at his admission.
“I—what?”
“I know. I know she doesn’t like you, Sweetheart. Everything changed after we got married, and… it was hard for her. And for Lloyd.” You roll your eyes at his brother’s mention.
“Lloyd? Please.” You roll your eyes. “So what, he had a little crush on me from before you and I got together. It’s been years.”
“It was more than a little crush.”
“Oh my God, Ran. So what? That makes it okay for her to make me miserable every time I see her?” You moan, throwing your hands up. Ransom catches them, placing them gently back down by your sides before he pulls you to his chest. He smells good—familiar.
“No, no it doesn’t.” He presses a kiss into your hair. “It doesn’t make it okay.” It feels silly to cry over something as minuscule as this, but you can’t help it, frustrated tears filling your eyes as you press your face into your husband’s shirt. He strokes your back quietly as you sob, rubbing soothing circles into your skin until you run out of tears.
“Stupid pregnancy hormones,” you sniff, drawing the back of your hand roughly across your face.
“Is that what we’re blaming for this?” Ransom asks amusedly, and you swat at him, still sniffling even as a small smile plays at the corners of your mouth.
“Yes.” You nod stoutly. “Get ready for that for the next nine months.”
Ransom laughs. “Noted.” He leans down to kiss you, and you let him, sinking gratefully into his arms. He doesn’t stop, though, nipping at your lower lip as he hums with pleasure. You giggle against his mouth as Ransom’s hands find your hips, squeezing them. There are plenty of large boulders sticking out of the sand, and Ransom takes full advantage, walking you backward until you’re pressed against one. You hiss as the cold, wet stone meets your skin, but it’s easy to ignore it as your husband kisses his way down your jaw.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” Ransom mumbles, making quick work of the buttons on your shirt. The bikini top you’re wearing underneath is quickly pushed up to allow Ransom to roll your puffy nipples between his eager fingers. He deftly undoes the button on your shorts, and you let him tug them down one leg before he lifts the other, wrapping it around his hip.
You whine as he tugs aside your swimsuit bottoms, his thick fingers stroking gently at your already damp folds.
“Already wet, Princess,” he says with a sultry chuckle. “Gonna blame the pregnancy hormones for that, too?” He drags his thumb through your slick folds, and you stare up at him, your hips twitching as you whine. He grins at you, before popping his wet thumb into his mouth.
Princess. You don’t know why it gives you pause, your cottony thoughts slow to connect the dots as he grinds the heel of his palm against your swelling clit. He’s hard already, his cock pressing hard into the soft meat of your thigh, throbbing.
“Fuck—wait, Ran—” He kisses you again, sweeping your words away with the sweet press of his tongue. Princess.
“Don’t wanna wait,” he growls against your lips, and you feel him fumble between your bodies for a moment before his bare cock slides against you. You can’t help but moan at the feel of it, the thick tip of him pressing enticingly against your entrance. The stretch and burn of his entry is delicious, and for a moment you’re entirely wordless, staring down the line of your own body as he forces you open.
“Fuck, Princess, can’t get over how tight you are—”
Your eyes widen as he bottoms out, the sharp chords of pleasure cut short as fear takes their place. You stare up at him as terror curdles the desire growing in your belly, his name a fearful whisper on your lips.
“Lloyd?”
He grins, pulling out slow before sinking back in to the hilt.
“Aw, Princess,” he says, rolling his hips into yours with heavy, languorous strokes. “What gave it away?”
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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 characters#chris evans fanfiction#ransom drysdale imagine#lloyd hansen imagine#ransom drysdale smut#lloyd hansen smut#ransom drysdale x reader#lloyd hansen x reader#ransom drysdale x you#lloyd hansen x you#ransom drysdale x y/n#lloyd hansen x y/n#lloyd hansen#ransom drysdale#darkfic#dark au#smut#boxofbonesfic
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With Your Touch Masterlist
You were supposed to be living a normal life. Perfect boyfriend, just graduated college, and ready to start your new life. Until you met him. Brooding and imposing unless his daughter is around. You knew nothing about babies, but he knew less. Tension builds, feelings flare up, but are they just because he looks extremely sexy when he's soft? Could it be because you are falling for this princess of a baby girl before him? Is it because when he's in town you're too close? The money is good, and yet his attention is better.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
A/N: this story will include themes of age gap, forced au pair, close proximity, jealousy, obsession, possessiveness, alluded canon level violence, soft Lloyd, voyeurism, self gratification, pining, and more. Read ALL warnings before each part. And as always, minors DNI
#au pair au#lloyd hansen#lloyd hansen x reader#lloyd hansen x fem!reader#lloyd hansen x female reader#lloyd hansen x you#lloyd hansen x y/n#lloyd x dolly#babysitter au#chris evans#chris evans character#the gray man
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