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#lloyd hansen imagine
imyourbratzdoll · 8 months
Note
Can I please request best friends, dad!Lloyd, finding you masturbating in his bed!! Maybe include some toys+squirting?? Thnnnx!! Love your blog💘💘
hey honey, thank you so much!
summary - you've been pining over your best friend's dad and decide to take your chance, knowing he's out and your best friend is asleep, you be a little bit naughty and touch yourself on his bed, not knowing he's coming home early.
warning - smut, masturbating, voyeurism, squirting.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips
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You were sneaky, waiting until your best friend fell asleep so you could sneak out of her room. You’ve hung around enough to know that her father works late, only coming home early in the morning, sometimes covered in blood. You had a slight crush on the man. I mean, could you really be blamed? Wearing your tiny white nightie as you head toward Mr Hansen’s room, you sneak inside, not bothering to close the door as your friend sleeps deeply. 
Your trusty toy tucked into your hand, with your free hand, you drag it along his sheets, sighing as they are so soft. You get wet just thinking about Lloyd lying naked between the sheets, stroking his thick member. You whimper, crawling onto the bed and lying down. You moan as your body relaxes. Your eyes slip closed, and your fingers skim your nipples. They slowly slide down your body, landing between your legs and circling your puffy clit. 
You blindly turn your toy on, placing it directly onto your clit, causing soft mewls to escape your lips. Your mind begins to drift off thinking of Lloyd, imagining him walking in on you, degrading you, until he finally flips you around and thrusts into you. You are so caught up in pleasure that you don’t hear Lloyd arriving home earlier than usual or entering the house and making his way to his room. You don’t even notice him leaning against the doorway, and you whine as you arch your back, grinding down onto the toy. “Oh, Mr Hansen.”
Lloyd crosses his arms as he watches you with a smirk and clears his throat. His smirk grows when your eyes fly open, and you freeze, mouth opening and closing as you try and find an excuse for why you are in his bed, touching yourself. “Well, sweetheart. If I had known this is what I would’ve been coming home to, I would’ve come home much faster.” His eyes slowly move down your body, licking his lips when they land on the soaked toy between your legs. Lloyd waves his hand. “Don’t stop on my account, please. Continue.”
“M–mr Hans–” He cuts you off with a raised brow. You feel your body heat up and your cunt throb as he stares you down. You gasp as you press the toy harder against your clit, and your legs fall open, giving Lloyd a better view. 
“Mm, that’s right, pretty girl. Get off in my bed. I bet you wouldn’t even be able to stop even if my daughter woke.” He smirks, making his way over and sitting close to you on the bed, causing your mind to go fuzzy from his scent alone. You throb when he touches your thigh, stroking it as his gaze sticks to the toy between your legs. “You’re such a naughty girl, pining over your best friend’s dad… Hmm.” You look at him with wide eyes, mouth falling open and eyes crossing. “You thought I didn’t notice? It’s quite flattering, pumpkin. Why do you think I walked around half-naked? Or brushed up against you.” Lloyd smirks, stroking your cheek before gripping your chin and resting his thumb on your plump bottom lip. “Are you going to cum for me? Make a mess on my sheets?” 
You whine, nodding. Lloyd groans when your lips wrap around his thumb, and you begin to suck, staring up at him with wide innocent eyes. Your walls pulsate, and your clit throbs, toes curling as your end approaches. “Mr Hansen!” Your back arches, and your juices squirt out of you, tiring your body and causing you to sag into the bed. Your eyes flutter, the toy falling limp between your legs. “I–I’m sorry…” You realise what you have done and try to get up, but Lloyd stops you.
“Don’t be sorry, pumpkin. That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Lloyd grabs the toy, feeling his cock stir with how wet it is and holds it up, watching with a smirk as your juices create a string. “Naughty, naughty girl. Look at the mess you’ve made.” You watch with wide eyes as he licks up your arousal before throwing the toy aside and climbing on top of you. “Just because you’ve had your fun, sweetness, doesn’t mean you can leave. You don’t want to leave without letting me pump you full, right?” 
You shake your head, feeling your cunt throb in anticipation. Your fantasy was finally coming true.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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babyjakes · 4 months
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a diamond's gotta shine.
〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
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event | kinkmas 2023
prompt | toys
pairing | soft!daddy!lloyd hansen x little!reader
warnings | ddlg (daddy!lloyd, little!reader.) super soft!daddy!lloyd, just how we like him! butt plug (and me not knowing shit about luxury brands lol.) reader has an oral fixation; sucking and licking. anal prep/fingering/stretching. clit rubbing <3. mostly praise and encouragement. an orgasm as reward, yay!! implied aftercare. err hints at exhibitionism later? idk just to be safe.
word count | 1,425
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an | this wasn't really the plan for this prompt originally, but i woke up today and decided i wanted a fic of lloyd gifting reader a luxury butt plug so we're just rolling with it lol. this one's dedicated to my sweet sweet angel sabby @hansensgirl hope you're well bby, and happy holidays to you!! <33
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"C'mon, princess. Up on my desk."
Lloyd was gently nudging you toward the large surface, which he had suspiciously cleared off from its usual state of mild disarray. You lifted a curious brow at the broad man, earning a pearly grin as he gently stepped in to sweep you up in his arms. Lifting you effortlessly onto the desktop, he set you down with care, as if you were the most delicate and precious thing in the world. He trailed a playful hand up your thigh, fingertips teasing at your skin through the silky fabric of your nylons. "Daddy," you hummed eagerly, letting out a soft squeak as he gently pinched at your tender flesh.
"Panties off, baby. Lay back for me," Lloyd instructed steadily. And he sure as hell didn't have to ask twice.
As you moved quickly to remove and discard your hose and panties, you couldn't help but try to sneak a peek at what your daddy was up to as he made his way to the other side of the desk, opening up a drawer and pulling something out discreetly. He then strode over to one of the couches in the middle of his office, grabbing a few throw pillows before returning to you. "Here you go, angel. Let's get you nice and comfy," he murmured, propping you up with the pillows supporting your back.
"Daddy," you whined again, a hint of neediness now present in your voice. Lloyd smiled as he brought up the gift to finally show you; the contents of his hands made you gasp. A beautiful plug, shiny gold, with a stunning ring of crystals embedded along the base. "Oh Daddy," you breathed, unable to take your eyes off the glittering piece.
"Genuine Winstons," Lloyd told you proudly, taking a small bottle of lube from his pocket and placing it on the desk beside you. "Only the best for my princess, of course."
"So pretty, Daddy," you remained in awe, earning a loving chuckle from the man as he watched you be entranced by the gift.
"I'm glad you think so, sweetheart. Now be a good girl and open up for Daddy, need you to get this nice and wet for me while I'm prepping you." He teased the tip of the plug against your glossy lips, guiding one of your hands up to hold the base. You sucked and licked happily at the metal's impressive curve as Lloyd got to work between your legs.
He parted your feet, bending your knees up to lie at either side of you as your dress slipped up easily in cooperation with his efforts. Pausing, he took a moment to revel in the sight of you. His gaze fell to your perfect folds as they sat before him on display. With a low hum of approval, he brought a gentle hand up to smear your wetness around teasingly. "Look at you, already getting wet for Daddy. That's my good girl," he smiled as he brought a finger down to begin gently prodding at your tighter little hole.
Still working the toy you'd been given between your pouty lips, you let out a whimper at your daddy's tentative nudges. You gasped softly at the feeling of a cold glob of lube being dripped onto you. Heat rose up through your cheeks in slight humiliation as the slippery mess was worked thoroughly over your puckered rosebud. "Okay baby," Lloyd hummed encouragingly, "time to open up this pretty little hole. Are you gonna be good for Daddy and take it?" You offered the sweetest nod you could manage, earning a beaming grin from the mustached man. "Of course you are. My sweet little girl," he crooned lovingly, giving no further warning before starting to push his first digit past your difficult outer ring.
You squirmed gently, big pleading eyes looking up at Lloyd as you let out a weak whine. "Hmmph... Daddy..." your voice wobbled.
The tall man brought his unused arm up to stroke back your hair in a calming manner. Furrowing his brow in gentle concern, he did his best to soothe you. "Shhh, my love," he cooed as his large finger worked up to the first knuckle, then the second, gradually stretching out your sensitive walls. "That's it, see? Nice and gentle. Look so pretty like this, taking Daddy's fingers up your sweet little bottom. My pretty girl," he kissed your forehead, holding you steady as he began introducing a second finger.
It was a slow, steady process; Lloyd knew that it had to be. He rarely played with you like this, mostly due to how much you struggled to take anything up your poor little ass. But he hoped that getting you a toy like this might help you adjust to the unfamiliar sensations; you had discussed prior that you'd like to do some proper anal training and play. Needless to say, you both felt this was the perfect first step in that endeavor.
Once you were comfortably and confidently taking two fingers, Lloyd finally felt ready to transition you over to your shiny new toy. "That's it, sweetheart. Fuck, so perfect for me," he was chuckling as your hips bucked up to meet his hand, his digits driving steadily into you. Much of the initial discomfort was gone, replaced with the most deliciously sinful burn blooming in the base of your tummy. Your eyes were shining with pride as you looked up hopefully at your daddy. Kissing your forehead again, Lloyd nodded as he slowed his fingers to a stop, retrieving the now-soaking plug from your drooling lips.
"Okay princess. Here we go-" You hummed eagerly as the tip of the gold bulb was rubbed up against your slippery opening. Lloyd surprised you a bit by bringing his free hand up to gently dip into your leaking pussy; much to your daddy's delight, you had made quite the mess during his generous preparation period. He dragged his fingertips up further, liberally smearing your glistening arousal over your clit to coax the tiny pearl out from under its protective hood with his expert touch. Your knees were trembling as he began working the nub in steady circles, while finally beginning to ease the large plug up into your awaiting walls.
"O-oh my- Daddy," you mewled as the warm, slick piece of metal stretched you out across its broad curvature. At its widest circumference, the object's insertion was bordering on painful. Lloyd's eyes never left you as he did his best to rub your clit faster, hoping the added stimulation would help ease the burn.
"Almost there baby, almost there," he promised, letting out a breath of relief in tandem with your own as you finally made it past the peak, the rest of the toy slipping perfectly into its place with little effort. As the glittering base nestled itself between your smooth cheeks, Lloyd looked on in pleasure and pride. "There," he hummed lowly, gently giving the center a few taps, earning the sweetest little whimpers from you. "What do you think, angel? Has someone earned an orgasm?"
His pace was quickening over your clit before you could even process his words. Hands flying down to grip the edges of the desk below you, you nodded desperately. "Y-yes Daddy, please Daddy!"
Your daddy smiled as he continued his steady rubbing, finding your sweet spot with ease. It wasn't long before you were reaching up to cling to his sturdy arm, your breaths stuttering as you chased your release. "That's it, baby. Go ahead and come for me. Been such a brave girl for Daddy," the man allowed, nodding as your high ripped through you.
"Daddy, o-oh Daddy! Aahhh-" you cried, the plug lurching within you as your poor little cunt clenched down on nothing. You were carried lovingly through your high, Lloyd's fingers only slowing as your spasms and contractions finally began to cease.
"That's my girl," he murmured gently, reaching up to brush your hair back out of your face as he gave your pussy and puffy button a few playful pats. "Now what d'you say we get you cleaned up, huh princess?" You were too weak to respond, only managing a lazy nod as you slumped against the pillows behind you, struggling to catch your breath.
He moved from your side momentarily to grab a cloth from one of the desk drawers. "Oh, but sweetheart- the toy stays in," he informed you with a wink. "We're having guests over later; Daddy wants his pretty girl to shine."
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dungeonpuppykai · 9 months
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Summary: It was meant to be a light hearted joke when Y/n had declared that she and Lloyd were married after he had put his insignia band in her ring finger. Little did the younger one know, the humour had not been mutual. 
Pairing: Mafia Ex-Boyfriend Lloyd Hansen | Naive!Reader.
Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Lloyd Hansen. This story contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact.
Warning(s): Noncon/dubcon, Lloyd, gun play, dacryphilia, fear kink, age gap, house wife kink, husband kink, wife kink, slight breeding kink, boot riding, degradation, humiliation, dumbification, probably misogyny, pet names. The reader also pees herself out of fear. 
Note: English is not my first language but whoring is and so this came to me when I was literally half asleep at like 6 in the morning. Please be nice or don't say anything. Feedback (that isn't straight up hate) is always much appreciated!
MASTERLIST 
"Hey, baby sunshine" the near slur in his words caused her eyes to roll. 
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"God, hold your horses, I am coming!" Y/n yelled at the door in annoyance as she trudged her tired feet to it. "Hold your horses!" She had had a long day so she couldn't be bothered with the peep hole, clicking the locks open as she prepared herself for the crazy lady that lived across the hall since no one else could rival how she could bang doors. It didn't help that she seemed to have a personal vendetta against the young female. "Wha-" her words locked up in her throat at the sight that awaited her behind the door. 
Come on. 
Not this again. 
Could this day end already?
"What do you want, Lloyd?" Raising an eyebrow at her ex to express her annoyance with the unexpected visit, the female crossed her arms over her chest as she awaited a response. 
"Can I come in?" 
"Can you?" The sadist pulled the saddest eyes he could and coupled it with a kicked puppy expression. Though the girl knew he was anything but. 
"Come on, bunny. We had a life" Lloyd tried his best persuasive tone that did not do anything for him since the only way he knew to talk was his commanding and authoritative usual. 
Always expecting obedience. 
"Correct, Lloyd. We had a life" she stepped back and wrapped her arms along the edge of the door. "And it's over" his foot stuck between it and the frame to restrict it from closing. The female sighed as she looked up at him with tired and pleading eyes. "Leave." 
"Five minutes?" If it weren't Y/n giving him the attitude -that he frankly could not fathom why she was-, he was sure he had already pushed them to their knees, broken them into submission and probably put them out of their misery. 
He could never lay an ill spirited finger on her. 
Not his little sunshine, no. 
Everything Lloyd did ever since meeting her was for them.
For her good.
Whether she liked it or not. 
"Lloyd." Her tone was clipped. 
"I am not leaving here until you do" the determination in his voice was clear. 
In the year she had dated him, Y/n knew he could be awfully stubborn if he really put his foot down. 
"Five minutes." She couldn't help but sigh after the warning before leaving the door for him to enter and walking to the living room to plop on one of the couches. 
Lloyd snorted as he took a seat besides her, causing the female to uncomfortably scoot over. 
"So, what? Now your husband is so bad that you won't even offer him a glass of water when he comes home?" I fucking knew it. The moment he wormed his way into her walls and got what he wanted, he was back to that taunting and cocky default tone of his. 
"What the hell are you on about, now?" Y/n turned to look at him, confused. "What is this new–"
"This," she nearly jumped when he reached for her hand and pulled it out of its lock over her chest, propping one digit under her ring finger to make it stand out amongst the others even more. "Remember this?" His insignia ring twinkled under the lights. 
Fuck. 
Wearing it had become such a habit that she hadn't even noticed it in the past week that had followed the break up after the girl had accidentally watched a footage of him torturing– no, tormenting a suspect when looking for something on the computer in his study. Though Y/n used the unit often, it was an established rule to not access his work files and folders but this one had been on the desktop. The date showed that it was recent. 
Betrayal had filled her veins as she had watched it with wide eyes in horror. Lloyd had told her that he was a businessman that funded government operations hence the mysterious agents that visited him in his study every once in a while. But this, it changed everything. 
Not only was he a liar, but the video showed how sadistic and brutal he was. Y/n could almost not recognize the man enjoying the pain he was inflicting on the bound man begging for mercy. 
She could not live with a man like that. 
It was horrifying to think that she had been doing so for over a year at that point. 
Memories flooded her brain as she looked up in his deep blue eyes, fear filling her senses the more his grip on her hand tightened.
Placing the massive bowl of nachos away that Y/n had failed to finish besides them, she wiped her fingers on one of the napkins on the table in front of her and Lloyd in the fancy entertainment room that he had in his mansion. She shook her head at the bowl as she leaned back against his chest and let him wrap his built arms around her form, perching his chin on the top of her head as he watched the movie that was playing on the huge screen in front of them. 
She had told him that she liked to eat nachos while watching movies. So he had the house help prepare an entire pots' worth for her. And now at least half remained. The girl sighed and finally looked away from the delicious bowl and onto the screen. But it was some old movie that Lloyd swore was a masterpiece but she couldn't really understand the hype. 
Her eyes travelled down to his thick arms now, fingers tracing the bulging veins. The action caused the male to press a kiss to her head which resulted in a surge of hundreds of butterflies in her stomach. 
Y/n's lips quirked up as she felt the ring he wore on his pinky finger now, toying with it for a bit before she pulled it off his finger and put it on hers with a mischievous smile. 
"What?" Her lips pouted as she furrowed her eyebrows. It didn't fit her smallest finger like his. She jabbed it back and forth to try and make it fit somehow but the ring hung loosely near her knuckle. "Ugh!"
"Your finger is smaller than Daddy's, baby" Lloyd's mustache tickled the shell of her ear as he took her hands in his and pulled the ring off. "Must be because you're such a tiny little bunny compared to him" she blushed and bit her lip. 
He loved to make her feel the smallest he could. 
"There we go, all fit and pretty" he pressed a kiss to her temple after sliding it on her ring finger where the ring locked comfortably against her skin almost as though they were meant for each other. 
"Oopsie!" Y/n giggled as she tilted her head back to look at him. "We are married now!" 
Lloyd had an amused smile on his face. "Nothing oopsie about that, little bunny" and he sealed it with a kiss. 
"Agreed." The younger blushed harder as she giggled again due to how his mustache tickled her upper lip. 
"That was then." Y/n replied back coldly as she pulled her hands from his. "Now is now. And it's different." Trying her best to suppress the shudder threatening to break its way into her voice, she went to pull the ring off. "You-"
"Don't." His darkening eyes locked on her fingers and tone became one of warning. "Y/n Y/L/N, do not." 
Who did he think he was? Her lips turned into a firm line as she ripped the ring off her finger angrily. 
"You lied to me- LLOYD!" Before the jewellery could completely come off her finger, the man had pounced onto her. "STOP! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE NOW!" Terror filled her body as she realized that her strength was no match to his. 
Lloyd calmly pushed the ring back down on her finger. "Would you calm the fuck down already?" His tone was one that he had never used with her before. Cold droplets of sweat trickled down her back.
It was similar to the one he had been using in the video. 
"P- Please." 
"You didn't even give me a chance, sunshine. Good wives don't do that" his eyes were crazed as he caressed her fingers with no regard to her visibly upset state. "You just up and left with a silly little note while I was on the other side of the world working so hard for us and our future family like a loving husband." He sounded cross but still kissed the ring. 
"You lied to me" Y/n could only whisper back, the only man she could see in front of her the one from the video. 
"For us." His eyes finally flickered up to meet hers. "It was for your own good, bunny." When she tried to struggle, his jaw clenched and he pulled her into him before grabbing her by the jaw. His patience was wearing thin. How dare she? "And I would really appreciate it if you quit acting like I am some amateur criminal. I work for the government and I am an agent." Inching her face closer to his, he brushed their noses together before pecking her lips. "And a damn good one at that."
"No." He chuckled.
"No?" Lloyd went to pull something out of his back pocket. "You see, bunny. Dumb little wives such as you are too small to know anything wise to make decisions for themselves." Her body stilled when a bloody pistol came into her view. His other hand still held her by the jaw. "They need their husbands to show them the way. Regulate them with rules. Protect them under their wings." A strangled cry escaped the girl when he thought the barrel to her lips. 
"Good little wives don't worry about anything other than keeping the house warm and clean for their man while he takes care of the rest. They are supportive and obedient." Her teeth started to chatter when he caressed her cheek with the weapon. "I thought you were a good wife too. But the little antic you pulled last week proved that there is much training ahead of you." Y/n could not recognize the man in front of her. 
He was the polar opposite of the one she had lived with and loved for a whole year. 
"L- Lloyd…"
"Yes, sunshine?" The male looked perfectly comfortable. 
"Y- You're scaring me" hot tears spilled from her eyes. 
"It is for your own good, little bunny." The tip of the gun traced the shape of her lips now. "You need to learn your place here. You want the truth, right? I will not only tell you but I'll show you it." A whimper escaped her as she silently cried in disbelief. Her tears did not seem to move him in the slightest. 
"Kiss it" Lloyd's demand caused her heart rate to thunder faster. The barrel pressed against her lips. "Show me that you are a trusting and obedient wife who trusts her husband with her safety and wellbeing." The female's body jumped when he thrusted the cold metal against her sealed mouth. "Do it."
Y/n trembled as her hands hung uselessly at her sides. The girl didn't know much about weapons but she knew nothing was faster than a bullet. Although it was something about his mannerisms that indicated that he wouldn't actually pull it. The happy memories of their past resurfaced. He had never hurt her after all.
"Come on" he tried to pry open her mouth with the tip. "Don't make this any worse for yourself than you already have, sunshine." The darkness in his warning had her open her mouth and finally conform to his wishes by pressing a shaky kiss to the weapon.
Lloyd smiled as his dark blue eyes flickered to her luscious lips and then to her teary eyes. "Ah," her eyes widened when he took her slightly parted lips as an invitation to push the barrel of the gun inside her mouth. Y/n tried to back away, the man restricted her from doing so by grabbing her by the throat with his other hand. "You always did look the prettiest when you were crying for me" now his eyes sickeningly travelled down her neck and over the valley of her boobs that was visible from the loose t-shirt that she was wearing, then they went down her stomach and onto the shorts that were increasingly becoming damp from the middle, a hot liquid oozing past the fabric. 
The male threw his head back and laughed out loud. "Oh, bunny. Look at you pissing yourself like a scared little mutt!" Her already red and distressed face now burnt even hotter as the stretch that the gun was causing produced a pang of pain in her jaw. "See? This is why you need your husband to protect you. Because you are so small and helpless on your own… right?" His fingers tightened around her throat as he slowly rocked the barrel in and out of her mouth. "Hm?" The girl slowly nodded in response as she realized there was no way out of this. 
Lloyd sighed as he released her air duct but kept his fingers around her throat still, scanning her face and her body. "This is how long it would have taken us to sort it out, bunny. But you had to go ahead and make it hard for the both of us." Taking the weapon out of her mouth, he caressed one of her cheeks with the barrel. "You know I never did like punishing you" but the man in the video definitely would. 
"P- Please… Please…" Y/n whispered pleadingly. "Please…" 
"You ready to be a good girl for me again?" It was the love in his tone and sheer disregard for her horror stricken state that proved that this man, indeed, was the one from the video. 
She had no choice but to nod. "Y- Yes…" Just don't hurt me. 
"Yes, what?" 
"Yes… Daddy" he snorted and shook his head before nodding towards the ring glinting in her finger. 
"What's that make me?" She whimpered as a hiccup trembled its way out of her. 
"... H- Husband…" 
"Good girl…" Pulling her closer, he pressed his lips to hers in a rewarding manner -ever the narcissist- before continuing. "You are to call me that or hubby from now on, okay? The only exception will be Daddy. No using my name. Good little wives show respect." He dangled her body left and right by the throat. "Is that understood? Or does your tiny wife brain need me to explain it some more?" 
"I- I understand" she clenched her jaw when he raised an eyebrow at her. "... H- Hubby…" 
"Hmmm" Lloyd lazily eye fucked her again, unbothered by the fact that she had pissed herself a few minutes prior. He was used to much worse. "Now show me what's mine. Tsk, these clothes do nothing for you, bunny. Besides, you know you're only allowed to wear my shirts for pjs, what is this?" Moving her in front of him on the floor, he leaned back. "Tsk, tsk, bunny. I didn't think it was necessary since you used to behave so well but now I am positive that you need proper training." The man shook his head because even he knew that training with him was no easy thing. He had broken many little girls and boys while doing so. 
Though none had kept him drawn for this long. 
They eventually bored him out. 
Lloyd had never wanted to put any of them in a pretty dress and fill their tummies with his babies to have them waddle around his kitchen.
Y/n was different. 
"I don't have all day for this, sunshine." The girl hung her head low as she trembled under his piercing gaze, fingers grabbing the gem of the oversized shirt before she pulled it off. "Hmmm… my favorite fuck handles" the sight caused the male's cock to harden as he reached for her breasts and felt them both in turns, squeezing and spanking them before teasing her erecting nipples. "Fuck, sunshine. I missed you so much." Y/n blinked through her tears as she slid her wet shorts off her legs next, the reminder of the cause of the dampness making her face burn in embarrassment. 
"Hmmm. Look at how pretty you look, baby. All submissive and mum for me." Pulling her closer by a pinch on one of her nipples, he started to stroke her cheek with the gun again. The terror in her eyes whenever he did so thrilled him. "This is your true place. Good and pretty for me on your knees. Your only purpose is to keep me happy and my balls empty." The degrading words burnt her face. A chill ran down her back upon realization. The filthy and humiliating words he used to utter during their passionate episodes weren't just nothings. He actually meant every one of them. 
This was proof. 
"You do that, you'll be the happiest and most protected little wife in the whole world." Lloyd pushed the barrel back in her mouth and one of his boot clad feet between her lungs. Y/n whimpered in response. 
"Remember how much you used to love to suck my cock? Sometimes that was all you wanted to do for hours at a time" his foot teased her damp folds. "You remember, don't you?" The ruthless twist of a nipple had her nodding as her back arched in pain. "It's a pity that you can't have it anymore since you've become such a misbehaving little girl just because work took a bit longer than expected" in his world, whatever he said was the truth. "But since I am such a caring husband and I know how much you love sucking cock…" Her stomach twisted from how he was rubbing the top of his foot against her pussy as he thrusted the barrel in and out of her mouth. 
She tried to mumble his name through the mouthful to plead but the man refused to acknowledge any of it. 
"I have always loved you just the way you are but I really think you should learn to be more grateful, you know? Because look at me…" When Lloyd kept on the pretense that he couldn't hear her pleas and instead reached the back of her throat with the gun, Y/n hurriedly started to bob her up back and forth. "You betrayed me, you left me without giving me a chance to explain myself and then refused to let me in like you are big enough to make any decisions, yet I am treating you so well. Doesn't this call for appreciation and respect for your husband?" The female whimpered against the weapon, feeling heat form between her hips as they started to sway along his foot. 
"God, Y/n," he chuckled deeply, pearly white teeth coming out on full display. "You're such a pathetic cockwhore. Sucking a gun that can go off any second while fucking yourself on my shoe like a horn bunny." The man reached for her hair now, fingers snaking through a handful of the pieces on the top of her head before he gave a humiliating jerk to it, eliciting a gasp out of the female who was confused, scared, shivering and aroused all at the same time. "This is where you belong, sunshine; at my mercy between my legs. Your only job is to worship me because your little brain is too small to do anything else… right?" Lloyd forced her to nod her head by the hold he had on her hair. "Right?" He drew his words out tauntingly before nodding himself. "Atta girl." 
Sense was starting to desert a moaning and sobbing Y/n as she struggled to decide whether this was scaring her or exciting her. As the knots in her stomach tightened, her insides churned but pussy clenched at the thought that maybe it was both. The danger, the fear, the loss of power coupled with the stretch in her mouth and stimulation against her folds was clouding up her head. 
It was Lloyd after all.
He wouldn't actually hurt her. 
… Right? 
Her conscience trembled its way out and away from her along with the moans she was letting out, the burn of the leather of his shoe against the skin of her pussy lips adding to the pleasure as she stared at him with teary eyes, hands now holding onto his legs for support as she felt a spinning building up behind her eyes. 
It has been so long. 
God. He smells like himself. 
… So good.
When her eyebrows scrunched up and lips pouted in a similar way, a very turned on Lloyd opened his mouth to speak. "You wanna cum for your hubby like a good little cock whore wife, bunny?" Fuck. She looked so fragile and… scared. The tears just added to the appeal. "So needy, aren't you? Crying these pretty tears for him?" Y/n nodded before she could dwell over the rights and wrongs. "Do you deserve it?" He tugged her head back by the hair he still had a firm hold on. Her fingers tightened around his legs and nails dug into his pants as whined pleadingly, rocking herself against him faster and faster. 
"You do?" Lloyd strictly questioned in disbelief when she dared to nod although he knew it was out of desperation. No worries. A good old fashioned wife spanking would fix it. "Cum, then" he could torment her about it later, right now he needed her as vulnerable as he possibly could. It was the perfect state to brand something into someone; the process of building them back up with modifications of his liking after breaking them down completely. 
Y/n closed her mouth around the gun and sucked at it as she moaned loudly while her eyes fluttered close, cheeks hollowing to endure the intensity of the orgasm as her bodily needs had not been taken care of in a while. The girl's back arched as her thighs that he loved to bite and suck at shook from the violent surge of pleasure bolting through her whole body.
"Someone's forgotten all their manners, hm?" Y/n panted and shuddered as she looked at him through her lust drunken eyes, brain scattered. 
"T- Thank you… h- hubby" it was only when Lloyd raised a warning eyebrow did she muster up the response he had taught her a while back. Her hips moved slower now. 
"Good bunny." Finally unplugging her mouth and setting the weapon aside, the man cupped both sides of her very hot and red tear stained face as he pulled her closer and off his foot now. A snort escaped him when Y/n whined under her breath from the loss of the warmth between her legs.
"Now, you saw that video and thought that I just go around doing that to people?" He actually did go around doing just that. "And that I'd do it to you? My lovely little sunshine?" The younger whimpered as she softly pouted, feeling small and dumb. "Why? Have I ever hurt you? Did this very loaded gun go off throughout the whole episode even though it very easily could have?" His words sounded just and right. "If I wanted to, I could have very easily messed you up at any given time, bunny." Even his condescending tone didn't bother her fucked out and fear numbed mind that could only think about how nice he smelt. "But why would I? You're just my harmless little dumb cock warming bunny wife, aren't you?"
"I… I am sorry, h- hubby…" I should have given him a chance to explain. He has never hurt me. Hubby always says that whatever he does, he does it for us. 
Lloyd sighed, an expression of benevolence on his handsome face as his thumbs caressed her cheeks. "It's alright, bunny. I should have known better. Silly little pea brain wives can't be left unattended for too long. They need constant monitoring and guidance, right?" The degrading words were spoken so lovingly that the girl given her state could not even be blamed. Small silver patches and strands in his mustache and hair that were otherwise barely noticeable glinted in the lights at this proximity. 
"... Y- Yes, hubby…" Y/n's mind was blank as she leaned into his chest and closed her eyes, finally breathing in a huge whiff of his scent. 
She felt shuffling around her but she didn't bother to open her eyes. Her body was taken care of and warm tucked into his; protected. How foolish she had been! Lloyd would never hurt her! He was her hubby! 
Whether this resolution would remain branded in her mind or give way to better sense the next morning was a mystery for now. 
The man took his jacket off and wrapped her nude form in it before one of his strong arms hooked under her ass and he swung her body over his shoulder, standing up. 
"Huh?" Lloyd tucked the gun behind him in its holster. "W- What?" 
"We are going home, baby" a harsh smack on Y/n's ass accompanied his words before he headed for the door. "Tsk, silly little bunny wife. Needs husband to teach her everything."
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1K notes · View notes
boxofbonesfic · 9 months
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Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [5]
Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader
Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why. 
Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!
Word Count: 3,761
A/N: i cannot wait to see what you all think of this latest development! please drop by my ask with thoughts or comments, and as always, thanks everyone for your patience! ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics​
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To your absolute horror, Lloyd doesn’t stop. You’re dizzy, both from the realization and the even, steady grind of his hips. It’s terribly familiar, the way he touches you—like it’s not the first time. Your stomach rolls as an anguished wail tears from your lips at the thought, because it’s the same one you’ve been shoving down, burying underneath every single other thing you can think of, because it couldn’t be true. Ransom wouldn’t do that you, he wouldn’t—
But he has.
Lloyd clucks his tongue at you, and reaches forward to cup your face. “You can scream, Princess.” He grins. “I know you can’t keep quiet anyway.” His words turn your stomach. Your arms, previously paralyzed at your sides, come up to push frantically at his face and chest as you curse. 
“Get the fuck off me, Lloyd!” You scream, but he doesn’t move—doesn’t even falter as he continues to rut into your shamefully wet cunt. He doesn’t budge, like your blows don’t even hurt. It makes you even more panicked, your eyes growing wide as you sob. Frantically, you scream for your husband, your voice swallowed by the crashing surf. 
“Ransom—! Ran—” Lloyd silences you with a kiss, swallowing your fear as he presses his lips to yours. Your shock allows him entry, sweeping his tongue into your mouth as you squirm beneath him. Lloyd catches your arms easily, forcing them back against the rock behind you.
“What’s the worst part, Princess?” He asks mockingly, his amused chuckle puffing against your lips. “That it’s me? Or that you liked it? That you always liked it?” You don’t want it to be true, shaking your head as you stare at him with tear-filled eyes. He nods in response, as slow and deliberate as his thrusts. Your stomach churns with the combination of this forbidden knowledge and the unwanted pleasure that creeps up your spine. 
He knows your body, that much is obvious. You don’t know how you didn’t see it before, a hundred thousand puzzle pieces falling perfectly into place as your life crumbles around them. Lloyd holds you like Ransom, kisses you like Ransom—
Or does Ransom kiss you like Lloyd?
He plays your body perfectly, like you’re an instrument he’s already  mastered.  Even as your head swims, the thick weight of his cock drawing pleasure from you even as you fight against it. You can hear it, how wet you are, how much your traitorous body is enjoying Lloyd. It’s maddening, the way you clench and quake beneath him, struggling ineffectually against pleasure you don’t want. He transfers both your wrists to one hand, using the other to cup your chin. 
“It’s really not as bad as you think,” he coos, dragging his thumb through your tears. He kisses you again, painfully softly. “I know what you like.” Lloyd’s fingers taste like the sea as he draws them across your trembling lips. “I know what you hate.” He traces circles around your puffy nipples, before painting stripes of salt-water down your belly. He spreads your lips wider with two fingers and draws those same circles around your clit. 
“I hate you!” You grit through clenched teeth, through your furious, shameful tears. Lloyd clucks his tongue, before leaning down to nose at the skin of your throat. 
“No you don’t, Princess. You love Ransom—so you love me. We’re the same, baby-doll.” He leans up, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Don’t you get that yet?” You don’t want it to be true, it can’t be, they’re so different—but even as you think it, you know he’s not lying. You’re reeling, the stretch-burn, the raw pleasure of him inside you, the knowledge that he’s been there before—
You wail as you cum, staring unseeingly at the sky. Lloyd doesn’t even give you the courtesy of slowing down, instead fucking you steadily through it with his cock and fingers buried in your cunt. He carries you, unwilling, from one height to the next, twitching and pleading. When he finally pulls his fingers from your soaked folds, he sucks them clean. 
“Love you so much, Princess,” he groans, rocking his hips steadily into yours as you mewl miserably. “I can wait for you to know you love me too.” His fingers press the skin of your hips like Ransom’s. Lloyd sucks your bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth with a growl. He holds you still while he empties into you. As he pants against your mouth, he grins. 
“Feels good not to have to pretend.” 
“Get off me.” You hiss at him, glaring at him with red-rimmed eyes. This time, he listens. He pulls out of you with an appreciative hum, stopping briefly to admire the slick, sticky mess he’s made. You pull your swimsuit down roughly, tugging your shirt tightly around yourself like a shield while you grab your now soaked shorts from the water, and begin to struggle into them. 
“Let me—”
“Don’t fucking touch me!” You shriek, jumping further backwards into the surf. You slip on the rocks, barely remaining upright as you scramble away. “Y-you don’t touch me!” You brandish a slick rock in your hand as threateningly as you can. “I—I’m going to tell Ransom, an-and—”
The look he gives you is almost pitying. “Oh Princess. Go on and tell him.” He nods at you with a sick smile. “Tell me what he says.” Lloyd holds his hands up as you retreat, giving him as wide a berth as you an as you circle back to shore. He doesn’t follow you, watching as you stumble across the sand.  You head into the trees and underbrush ringing the beach, fleeing your brother-in-law’s gaze. You know the general direction of the hotel, and you head that way, opting not to go back to the party. 
The party. Your stomach turns as you think of it now, Linda’s words holding fresh meaning now. Did she know? Did Ransom? The entire idea was so ludicrous you could scarcely believe it was really happening—but it was. It had. The evidence of Lloyd’s transgression was smeared between your salt-stained thighs. You want to vomit, and so you do, leaning against a tree as you heave into the sand. 
“Sweetheart?” 
You look up, your eyes wild. It’s Ransom—or Lloyd. You don’t know, now, torn between wanting to rush into his arms, or turn and run. You simply stare at him distrustfully, mirroring his step forward with one back, maintaining the distance between you with careful precision. 
“Baby, what’s wrong? You just wandered off, and—”
“Are you Lloyd?” You ask sharply, swallowing the desire to respond to his concern. You can’t trust your own eyes now, not anymore, and you don’t want to get close enough to verify. 
Ransom stares at you confusedly. 
“No? Why would you ask me that? Did something happen?” He takes another step closer, his arms outstretched placatingly. There’s true worry on his face as he takes in your wretched state, your open shirt and wet shorts, dirty feet and missing shoes. “Baby, did something happen?” He asks again, slower and more deliberate. You want to believe him, this man wearing your husband’s wedding ring, staring at you with the same eyes as the man you’d run away from. 
“Tell me something about the fountain.” 
“The what?” 
“The fountain!” You shrill hoarsely. “The fountain, from—”
“The one in the village,” Ransom finishes. “With the messed up tiles.” 
This time, you can’t stop yourself from rushing into his arms, sobbing. 
“I—Lloyd, he—” The words won’t come out between your hiccoughing sobs, and you settle for burying your face in his chest as Ransom wraps his arms around you. He holds you tightly, pressing you to his body as you wail. The truth sticks in your throat like taffy as you tangle your fingers in his shirt, tears soaking into the expensive fabric. 
“It’s okay, Sweetheart.” His voice is soothing. “I’m here. I got you, okay? I got you.” He doesn’t rush you, waiting until the tears slow to press a kiss into your hair. “You don’t have to talk right now. Let’s get you back to the room, okay?”
Ransom practically carries you through the underbrush, emerging near the  long stairwell up from the beach. Your family—and his—are still down at the party, but you barely spare them a glance as you stagger up the sandy concrete steps. Before long, the ringing in your ears blocks out the music anyway, and all you can think about is Lloyd’s response to your threat. 
Go on and tell him. Tell me what he says.  
Lloyd is nowhere to be seen as you enter the villa, and you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You didn’t even realize you’d been watching for him, waiting for him to appear like he always did—but he doesn’t. You’re relieved as Ransom leads you back into the bedroom and closes the door behind you. For a moment, you’re not sure what to do with yourself, standing blankly by the door while Ransom watches you helplessly. 
“Sweetheart… can you tell me?” He asks, resting his hands on your shoulders. You flinch at his touch instead of leaning into it, and pain flashes briefly across your face. Somehow, you are hesitant to name the shape of the monster that haunts you even now, like Lloyd had cursed your jaw to stick. With difficulty, your force it open. 
“He—he pretended… he was you. And… we… I didn’t know, Ran, I didn’t know it wasn’t you,” you babble, tears forming in your red, glassy eyes. You’re expecting to see his face crease with disgust at the part you won’t say out loud, but it doesn’t. Ransom’s silent, his face scrunching first with disappointment and then anger. You can tell he’s looking for an outlet, and he settles on routine. 
“Did you take your vitamins, Sweetheart?” He replies, a worried hand on your belly. “Does anything… hurt?” You shake your head. 
“N-no.” Ransom turns to the dresser, grabbing the bottles and shaking out your pills one by one. You take them, shuffling into the suite’s bathroom. You  a cup cool water from the faucet and bring it to your lips, swallowing them down with a grimace. 
“Let’s get you a bath, Baby.”
You nod wordlessly.
Ransom helps you get undressed, and you watch his jaw tic at Lloyd’s drying cum on your thighs. He fills the whirlpool tub with hot water, and you shift uncomfortably from foot to foot as you watch him. When it’s full, he helps you into it before splashing into the water himself. He sits on the back side of the tub with you between his knees, reaching down to hold you as you sink into the water. 
You lean back against your husband, fresh tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. I want to wake up now. There’s little you wouldn’t give to open your eyes and find yourself on the beach, this terrible nightmare broken. But when you do open your eyes, you’re still in the bathroom, your husband’s hands rubbing soothing circles into your skin as you wash away the evidence of his brother’s sin. 
“Oh Sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I… I don’t know what to say.” He strokes your hair as he speaks to you softly, gently, like he’s soothing an animal. “Lloyd’s a lot of things. Impatient, being chiefest among them.” You freeze, the air seeming to flow right out of your lungs—out of the whole room. The dripping of the faucet is as loud as thunder. 
“W-what?”
“I didn’t want you to find out like this, Sweetheart, believe me.” You wrench yourself away from him, water sloshing over the sides of the tub as you stare at your husband in disbelief. It feels like reality is crumbling to nothing as you  watch, bleached into dust by the brightness of his sad smile. It’s all you can see. 
“N-no, no no no no—” He reaches for you, and you slap his had away, tripping as you scramble out of the tub. “You knew.” You moan, bile rising in your throat as you wrap a towel around yourself. “You—you always knew.” Ransom rises from the lip of the tub and steps out onto the tile. You want to vomit, but there’s nothing left to bring up as you dry-heave into the sink. 
“Sweetheart, I need you to calm down, this stress isn’t good for the baby.”
“The baby—” You let out a despairing little laugh. “How long, Ransom?” You ask him hoarsely. “How long have you been letting this happen?” Finally, your husband has the decency to look ashamed. 
“Does it matter?”
“Yes!” You scream, pounding a fist against the counter. “Yes it fucking matters!”
“I think before New Years, last year.” 
“A—a year?” You choke out the words as you clutch your belly with a shaking hand. The baby—you don’t even know if it’s Ransom’s. You feel dirty, despite having bathed. Deeper than your skin, like something inside is tainted, rotten. You want to crawl out of it, leave it behind like a shell. Perhaps then you might be able to draw enough air into your tight lungs to be able to do more than sputter your husband’s words back at him in abject disbelief. 
You don’t want to relive the last year and a half but you can’t help it, flipping through the moments like flash cards as you try to pinpoint every transgression, every lie. For every possible memory that feels wrong, there are dozens of blank spaces, empty places where recollection should be. Your husband had poked his finger through the thin saran wrap of your memories, and you hadn’t even realized it was happening. 
Ransom reaches forward to rest a hand on your back and you shove him so hard he stumbles, your eyes wild. 
“Don’t touch me. You—you will never touch me again.” You hiss, the words ragged. Ransom scowls at you as you storm out of the bathroom, the towel still clutched against your heaving chest. You can barely hear anything over the sound of your own ragged breathing and the thundering of your heart. They’d been switching off for over a year, and you hadn’t even noticed. Sickness and shame twine in your gut as you snatch the clothes in the closet off their hangers, throwing them into your open suitcase without bothering to fold them.
“Sweetheart, don’t be rash. The baby—”
“Will not even know your name.” You don’t look at Ransom—you can’t. You feel like you don’t even know him, and you can’t help but wonder if you ever did. He’d known—hell, maybe he’d even participated in Lloyd’s sick games. The man you’d thought you married would never have stood for that. You grit your teeth as Ransom scoffs amusedly behind you. 
“You’re just going to pack your suitcase and go, is that it?” There’s a cruel edge to his voice you don’t recognize—it makes him sound like Lloyd. “Baby I’m just trying to give you what you want.” You glare at him over your shoulder before returning to packing, refusing to even entertain the discussion. You push past him to get to the dresser, pulling out the rest of your things. 
“You’re not thinking clearly, and I think if you really stopped and gave it some thought, you’d realize you’re making a mistake.” 
“Oh, I’m the one making the mistake?” You can’t help but turn to spit venom over your shoulder. “You and your brother took turns on me like a fucking carnival ride, but I’m making a mistake?”
“You wanted a big family, a stable family. One nobody could touch—”
“You’re sick.” You swallow against the bitter acid in your throat. “How can you try to make this okay? I—I never want to see you again. Ever. I—I really, truly mean that.” The needle inside you continues to swing between rage and abject horror as you dress yourself, practically shoving your limbs into the most convenient pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Your head buzzes with the turmoil of it all, practically full to bursting. Your passport is still in the bedside table, and you make sure you grab it, shoving it into your pocket before throwing open the bedroom door. 
It’s hard to breathe around the ache in your chest as you drag your heavy suitcase down the hallway, trying to ignore the sound of your husband behind you. You’re bordering on hysteria, frantic tears and snot running down your face as you flee your husband’s placating words. That’s probably the most maddening part of it—how he continues to parse out the words slowly, patiently, like he’s waiting for you to realize how sensible he’s being. You’re about ten seconds away from clapping your hands over your ears like a child, so you don’t have to hear him anymore
“Sweetheart, let’s talk about this.” Ransom calls after you. You stagger against the wall as your knees tremble, but you force yourself through it. Your heart is beating wildly, your palms clammy as you look back at your husband. You don’t expect to see him smiling. “You’re not being rational, baby.” 
You don’t even know how to respond. The only words that seem to come to mind are insults, curses; the violent ills you’re currently wishing on your husband and his family. You can’t listen to him—it’s only going to make you more enraged. You already feel like your heart is about to beat out of your chest, as you gulp down ragged breaths, your vision swimming. You rest a hand against the kitchen island, your whole body throbbing hotly with your pulse. 
“Shut the fuck up, Ransom,” you pant. “You can’t spin this.” 
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” He ignores your acid glare, leaning forward to curl a lock of your hair around his finger. You push him away, but the movement is clumsy, your hand swinging bonelessly at the end of your arm. “You know how persuasive I can be.”
“You’re really just like him.” It slips out before you can stop it as you shake your head in astonishment. 
“Oh what, you just figure that out?” Ransom’s voice is mockingly soft. “It took you long enough.”
You slap him. 
The sound of it is loud and sharp, and Ransom’s head actually turns with the force of it, your husband stumbling back a few steps. It was his surprise that had allowed it—you and Ransom had never struck each other, not counting the playful smacks he delivered in the bedroom. For a moment he stays like that, frozen, before slowly turning to look at you. Your wedding ring had split his lip, and you watch as he draws his thumb across it smearing the bright line of crimson across his mouth. 
“You’re starting to piss me off, Sweetheart.” His hand clamps so tightly around your wrist that it hurts, and you yelp, pushing uselessly at his chest. Ransom had never been violent with you, never even given you reason to suspect he would raise a hand to you, but as he bends you over the kitchen island, you feel fear. Your husband twists your arms behind your back, ignoring your pained whimper when he squeezes too tight. 
This—this isn’t happening. It’s not. My family is here, my, my father—
You wail, the sound muffled by the marble countertop and your tears, salt and snot running onto the counter beneath your cheek. 
“Just let me go, Ransom—”
“Oh Baby we are way past that.” The kiss he presses into your hair makes nausea churn in your belly, and you let out another sob. “I put a ring on that—where’s your finger, baby, let me see—ah! There it is.” Ransom holds your hand up, his fingers digging into the meat of your palm. “On that finger,” he continues, tapping the diamond with his fingernail. “Till death do us part, Sweetheart, that’s what we said. That’s what you promised me—and Lloyd.” 
 “You’re crazy—” The words stick in your throat as your vision tunnels. I feel sick. You do, your stomach churning as your heartbeat thunders in your ringing ears. 
“Wha-you do’t me?” The words are like bubblegum in your mouth as your husband chuckles softly. 
“You didn’t really think those were all vitamins, did you?” Your eyes widen with horror as you begin to struggle again, flailing your uncoordinated limbs as you try to force Ransom off of you. “Now don’t worry, it’s nothing that could hurt the baby,” he says reassuringly, as if that is your only cause for concern. 
“Noo,” you moan, wriggling feebly beneath him as you feel yourself recede further and further into your body. “Don’ wannit.”
“I know, Sweetheart. But what you want isn’t good for the family,” he says, stroking a gentle finger over the curve of your cheek. “You want to run, too run from what we’re trying to build with you. For you,” Ransom releases you as the sound of nearby voices reach your buzzing ears. “I’m not going to let that happen.” 
He steps away from you as Nathalie bursts through the door, holding a champagne bottle by the neck as she dances to music blaring from her phone speakers. 
“There you are, chica, we were looking—mom! Dad! She’s in here! I thought you—are you okay?” She sets the bottle down on the small table to the right of the sliding door. She rushes over to you, looping one limp arm around your shoulders as concern sets into the lines of her face. “Jesus, I—Ransom! What’s wrong with her?!”
Your husband appears in your tunnel-vision, carding a worried hand through his hair. 
“Thank fucking Christ, Nathalie—I was just going to text you. I think she’s having a reaction to something, I don’t know—” 
“Nn-Nat don-bel—eev ‘m,” your warning slurs together into an unintelligible soup as your head lolls. Nathalie tries to stand you up against the counter, and dimly you are aware of her calling for your parents, her voice muffled like she’s talking underwater. 
Lloyd—or is it Ransom?—lays you down on the countertop, his grinning face looming over you as your vision narrows down to a pinprick, the concern in his voice at complete odds with the grin on his face.
“Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.”
to be continued…
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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. ❤️
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lilacevans · 3 months
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𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑖 𝑑𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑠𝑘… 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑓𝑢𝑐𝑘 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜?
— lila’s secret project🤎
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labella420 · 7 months
Note
When you show Lloyd a new kink/position you want to try
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Hopefully this is the start of my muse coming back!
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Starring: Lloyd Hansen x Fem!Reader
Summary: You finally show Lloyd the kink that’s caught your interest.
Warnings: 18+Only. No minors! D/s undertones. Porn. Allusion to unprotected sex. Toys. Anal play. Hints at double penetration. Enjoy!
Word Count: 586
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Lloyd takes a big bite of an apple as he watches the tablet screen in front of him. The longer he goes without saying a word makes your anxiety spike and embarrassment creep up the back of your neck.
You’d finally built up the courage to show Lloyd what you’ve gotten off to on lonely nights he’s on missions when he’s given you the rare permission to cum. Having not watched a lot of porn before you met, he introduced you to a few clips that were his favorite, encouraging you to indulge any curiosities you kept locked away in secret.
The sound of skin slapping through the tiny speakers is deafening as Lloyd sets the tablet on the table, the scene of a woman sandwiched between two men, her holes filled with cock makes fire rise in your cheeks. Wringing your hands as Lloyd stands and tosses the rest of the apple into the trash, you wish he would say something, anything, to break the silent tension.
Drawing in a deep breath you part your lips to speak when he suddenly hoists you over his shoulder marching in the direction of your bedroom. Tossing you on your bed you bounce into your sea of pillows, anticipation building in your gut.
Lloyd rummages through your panty drawer, pulling out the pink dildo and small bottle of lube you swore he knew nothing about. Slapping the silicone toy against his palm he slowly stalks to the edge of the bed, his looming presence pierced only by his lips curled into a devilish smile.
“Oh pumpkin, you naughty little slut.” He chuckles, tossing the items on the bed and pulling you to the edge with his other hand. Shivering as his fingers trace patterns in your inner thighs, your clit throbs against your soaked panties.
“Bad, bad girl.” He slides his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and panties, peeling both garments down your legs and discarding them on the floor. “Look at that..” His voice trails off, as you allow your legs to fall open, giving Lloyd a front row seat view of your glistening folds.
“Daddy, please!” You plead when his thumb finds your clit and strokes small circles around the sensitive button. You love and hate when he teases you, today being that latter. Your cunt is throbbing and a trickle of your juices is sliding down between your crack. You wish he’d just fuck you already!
Grabbing your ankles and flipping you on tummy you put your knees underneath you and arch your back spread your thighs, opening yourself up to the thirsty man behind you. The soft clink of his belt reaches your ears, and a whimper escapes from your lips when you feel him take his place behind you, a cool glob of lube hitting your asshole as his cock rests at your slit.
“You’re mine, pumpkin. You know I’d never share you.” Lloyd half scolds as he slowly slides into your cunt, his thumb slowly penetrating your rosebud. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.” He gives you long slow strokes, his thumb keeping time with his cock as he fills you.
“But I am curious. You can barely take me back here.” He husks, pulling his digit from your ass. He pauses to squirt more lube, ensuring that your opening is nice and slick. You gasp when you feel the fat head of the dildo pushing against your tight hole.
“It’s ok pumpkin, I’ll make us both fit.”
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biteofcherry · 25 days
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Thot of the day:
Most people didn't even have the guts to look him straight in the eye. Much less to take a stand against his rule.
Yet here you were.
Wearing only a lace set, with your skin shimmering with golden dust and sweat; you stood proudly in front of Lloyd Hansen himself.
Not once did you look away from him, not even when the pathetic scum of a client rambled his complaints to Lloyd. He was disgusting back in the private room and even more so now, as he spread himself on the couch like he owned the place.
He didn't. And you knew that soon enough - no matter what Lloyd's decision regarding your case would be - the man was going to be taught a lesson.
Because no one should feel equal to Lloyd, especially not on his turf. Not in his club.
As the douchebag spilled his annoying complaints, Lloyd's eyes were focused on you.
At first it was a sharp glare, which would make many cower back in fear. Then he scanned you head to toe, a glimmer of interest softening his lethal look.
The scumbag kept talking when Lloyd suddenly lifted his hand in a silencing gesture. The man tried to talk past it, but one hiss from Lloyd shut him up immediately.
Lloyd nodded at you.
"You work for me, Sunshine." He reminded you. "I expect best performance from my employees. Why do I have to suffer a migraine from this idiot's complaints about your duties?"
"I do work for you," you replied, coolly. "I dance on the stage. I give private dances. I strip, if a client pays extra. But I won't let anyone grope me. Nor will I agree to any of the sleazy demands he made."
Lloyd seemed more curious than angry. He tilted his head slightly to the side, his eyes shifting to your cleavage and back to your face.
"Why not?" He asked.
"Because I work for you and you haven't agreed to it."
Corner of Lloyd's mouth curved up in a smirk, which then spread into a full, shark-like grin.
"You're a smart-ass, aren't you Sunshine?" He chuckled.
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charnelhouse · 2 years
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only the lonely
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Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader x Six (Court Gentry) Wordcount: 6.6+K Warnings: smut. threesome. LLoyd is a possessive dick and lashes out. He uses derogatory words, but i shaved off his stache so who really wins in all this? Six is probably OOC, but we live fast and loose with them rules, baby! Summary: "Sociopathic tendencies. Keyword, there. Doesn’t mean there aren't a few people I’d die for if necessary.”  A/N: For this to work, I erased the whole little kidnapped girl storyline. So just pretend the boys are fighting in that maze for their own egos. In a diff world, I feel like they'd respect each other to a degree and if you remove the kidnapped aspect, it probably could be valid.
They’re both near death when you practically drag them into the getaway vehicle. Significant damage. Shallow breathing. Lloyd is missing a few fingers, and when you wrap your arm around Six’s waist, his shirt squishes wetly. There’s way too much blood. It sticks to your cheek as you help him into the car.
They can't die. It would ruin everything.
You’ve got a boss who wants their skills, and he gave you the task of hiring them. For the last few months, you've been forced to wait for the right opportunity to strike. It soon becomes clear that a rare and likely impossible series of events must happen for them to even consider the offer.
But - happen it does. In fact, it falls into your lap.
They're in Croatia and on opposite ends of the same mission. A mission that has steadily gone south and has now hit rock bottom.
Your informants fill you in on where these two are headed. Scapegoats. The CIA has fucked themselves so severely that there isn't a single solution that isn't paper-thin. Lloyd Hansen and Sierra Six are as good as dead. Rats in a cage.
Well - now they're tucked into the back of your car like a pack of sardines. Both too big to fit.
Lloyd is paler than usual - his milk-white skin gray and sallow, and his big blue eyes are having trouble focusing. Six - Court - is just as bad, his head rolling forward as he tries to lift himself upright in the backseat.
“What is this?” he mutters the second you slip behind the wheel.
“In a nutshell? CIA is coming, and they plan on getting rid of both of you.” You twist around in your seat to level them with your best authoritative stare. “So you either get cool with each other real fast, or you go back out there and die.”
“That’s a real Sophie’s choice, baby,” Lloyd remarks dryly. He’s leaning forward, unable to press his back to the leather. He regards you with a kind of wonder, subtle recognition, though he’s probably dizzy from blood-loss.
It’s been a long time, Lloyd.
Silent as the grave, Six holds your gaze. His fingers tremble on his thigh and there’s no hope in securing a seat belt around him. The car's interior already reeks of blood and burnt flesh. 
“It’ll be unmarked graves, and you’ll both take the fall for this shit-fire.” You glance at Lloyd. “You really wanna be buried with that stache?”
“God,” Lloyd groans as he spits out a thick glob of blood that hits the window and drips down slow as molasses. “You’re such a cunt.”
Six socks Lloyd in the chest, and he chokes, sputters, and then yells when he accidentally falls against the seat and irritates the charred flesh of his back. “She’s saving our asses, you fucking shithead.”
“Standing up for her? Didn’t peg you as the chivalrous type. Good luck getting in that snatch because it’s next to impossible.”
You jerk a finger in Lloyd’s direction. “You would use snatch, you fucking troglodyte.”
“Nice word of the day, babe. I’m so proud of you.”
 “Jesus,” Six hisses. “Just shut up so we can get out of here. I’d really like to stop bleeding out right now.”
He nods at you. “Let’s go. We’ll figure out the rest later.” He shuts his eyes and drops his skull against the headrest. “We can murder this guy and leave him on the side of the road if he complains.”
Lloyd scowls but says nothing else. Seemingly deflated, he hunches forward, curling his mutilated hand against his chest. 
Dawn light, pink as a grapefruit, filters into the car, shoving both men into stark relief. They look touched by death. It’s jarring. Two living legends are going cold in the backseat of a shitty rental. As the air fills with the whir of helicopter blades and the scream of sirens, you hit the gas.
***
This is how it starts. You bring in crooked doctors who are paid under the table. They deliver top-notch medical supplies and sew up what they can. The men will have to be flown out of here. They’ll need surgery, but first, they must accept the terms.
Six will be easy. Fitzroy is gone. He’ll require cash to stay below ground. He’s been doing the CIA’s dirty work for years and this offer is practically the same thing with even less rules. This is what he knows.
Lloyd will be difficult. He’s too arrogant and unpredictable and has always been his own boss. But, his connections are tapped. His options are limited. He’s got nothing, now, that the CIA would rather bury than use him.
You explain it simply. It’s private sector work. Not above board. The money will be better than anything either of them has gotten, and your boss will keep them safe. No government intervention. No CIA. They’re already dead. Dust in the wind. 
“What’s the catch?” Six asks as he idly watches one of the medics sew an ugly knife wound across his chest.
“We work as a team,” you reply smoothly. “These jobs will always require more than one person, so it shouldn’t be an issue.” Your eyes dart to Lloyd, who is staring down at his wrapped hand. You can see it. He’s been knocked down a peg, slightly humbled by the fact that he got his ass handed to him by Six. “I just need to make sure your egos can handle it.”
“I don’t even know who your boss is,” Six says. “I don’t even know who you are.”
“Agent 33,” Lloyd interjects quietly, his gaze still trained on his hand. “Remember Vienna?”
Six’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “That was you?”
Vienna. The memory ripples through you, and you can still feel the shard of metal in your thigh, lake water in your throat. The dozens dead and how you had done all of it because you were ordered to. One-hundred bodies to save a thousand. Your mouth gets suddenly dry.
“That was her,” Lloyd confirms as he finally looks up. His expression is completely unreadable. “I hadn’t seen you since I got kicked, but it tickled me when Denny said you went ghost on him after that shit in Istanbul. Knew you were just as depraved as me.”
For a moment, the unmistakable feeling of blood is on your hands. The stickiness of it itches. You went into the private sector because it was easy. You no longer had to wait for the government to give you permission when difficult choices had to be made. You weren’t strangled by all the red tape. You weren’t blamed for things beyond your control. There’s a scar under your breast that still throbs.
“I was recruited,” you explain. “Exactly what I’m doing here.” You cross your arms over your chest. “You have nowhere to go. My boss will protect you. You don’t need to know their name. You don’t need to know their mission statement. I went in blind, and I don’t regret it.”
Lloyd's jaw clicks, his nostrils flaring with barely contained hostility as he takes a moment. He’s caught, and he knows it. He’s stuck to a spiderweb. You picture spreading his arms out and nailing his hands to a glass slab. Let me pull you open, Hansen. “Whatever,” he finally growls. “I can hand you my bank account number later. I need a plastic surgeon to fix the fucking skin on my back.”
Six doesn’t give you a verbal answer, but he does tip his head at you. It’s enough.
***
The first mission is a shit show. Six (because he hates Court) and Lloyd crash into each other with alarming regularity. They argue and bristle, Lloyd is too loud, and Six isn’t loud enough. There is snag after snag and it’s because they won’t just listen. It’s a fuck-up, but you complete the mission and get the money. There’s blood in your hair as you drag yourself into a shower, and refuse to speak to them for three days.
By the fifth mission, they’re on even ground. There are splinters in the foundation, but it’s working. You have to appeal to their strengths. You have to butter up both of them, especially Lloyd, but that’s no surprise.
You want to win, right? Do you want to be the fucking best? We’re ghosts. We need to be wraiths in the night. We don’t do things messy. If you get us in a tight spot, Lloyd, then we are all fucked.
Fine - Fuck - you’re such a bitch. 
No, I’m not. You’re just a fucking baby.
Can you two relax? Jesus.
Like you’re any better? You’re a bleeding heart, Gentry. It’s embarrassing.
***
“You need to shave that mustache,” you tell Lloyd plainly. They’re in the new hideout. A place where the three can lay low when they have several assignments on the docket. It’s isolated in the French countryside. All flecked white paint and a farmhouse flair. The garden is wild with lavender, and Loyd grills big slabs of meat that get delivered from the local butcher.
“Since when?”
“You stand out like that,” you reply. “Everyone looks at you and not in a good way.”
Six snorts before trying to mask it by shoving a spoonful of sorbet into his mouth. Lloyd pouts for an hour, but he doesn’t refuse you. 
Later, you find him in the bathroom, hovering over the sink with the razor in his hands. “Get on the toilet,” you order as you step inside. The tile is cold under your feet. They need to crank the heat up in this place. Autumn has come early. The sky was purple-blue as the bruises on Lloyd’s biceps. He got into a fight with a giant Russian in Croatia and nearly had his spine snapped.
He shoots you a sidelong glance. “You’re going to cut me.”
“I flayed a dude once without killing him.” His eyes widen.
“I just got hard,” he groans, cupping his crotch. You ignore him and gesture to the toilet. 
“Sit.”
He does. 
You’re careful and slow as you work. You stand between his knees in your pajama shorts and tank top, and his fingertips skate across the side of your leg. His other hand is still screwed, bandaged within an inch of its life, but he’s working with it. Adapting. He stares at you as his features go slack - softened by the warm bathroom light. His eyelids droop, and his full lips part, but he doesn’t move an inch. You feel as if you’ve tamed a giant, lazy cat. When you gingerly tilt his head up, thumb caressing the hinge of his jaw, he makes a soft, low noise in his throat. His fingers skim the edge of your shorts, but he doesn’t push it. 
After all, you have a razor at his throat.
You wipe away the shaving cream when it's done and smirk down at him.
“Look,” you tease. “There’s the dude I met all those years ago.”
His lips split into a devastating half-smile. His teeth are white and shiny, and he is too good-looking. “Keep talking,” he urges. “You definitely wanted to fuck me then.”
“Hmm,” you tap your chin. “I did, but Marie told me you were a terrible lay. Totally selfish, which is really on brand.”
He scoffs. “I didn’t put an effort in with Marie. She’d been begging for my dick for months. You…well…” He lowers his voice to something ragged, and his breath puffs against the bare skin between the band of your sleep shorts and your top. His hungry eyes flit back to yours, and he squeezes your knees. “I’d eat your pussy until you begged me to stop.”
The place between your thighs flickers. Heat in your stomach begins to expand, blossoming throughout your body. Even your face grows warm, and Lloyd can tell. He’s reading you, his pink tongue sweeping over his spit-slick lower lip. With the razor still in your hands, you cradle his jaw and lean down. His brow lifts an inch in surprise, but a second before your mouths meet, you dart to the side and press it to his ear.
“Baby,” you whisper. “I’d fuck Six before I fuck you.”
You abruptly pull away, ease out from between the trap of his legs, and toss his razor in the sink. The sound of steel and polished wood bouncing off porcelain reverberates throughout the tiny room, and Lloyd doesn’t even blink. He’s staring at you as if you’d just slapped him.
In your own way, maybe you had.
***
Six is easy. He’s a man of very few words, and his entire work ethic is high-speed, low drag. Still, he can be entertaining when he wants to be. He’s slightly awkward when he tries to relate to you in any way that isn’t killing people. You know his background. You know how he was raised and where he’s been, so Six is barely even a fully functioning human. More machine than anything else. You don’t think he has a favorite movie or tv show. He’s a blank slate that you can’t seem to dent or leave your fingerprints on.
“Can’t believe you got Hansen to shave,” he remarks slyly. You’re sharing coffee next to the Arc de Triomphe, waiting for a drop-off not far from the cafe. “How’d you do it?”
“Promised I’d blow him.”
Six chokes on his coffee, and you laugh. “I’m kidding, but that probably would have worked, too.”
“He does have a hard-on for you,” he observes, his tone almost thoughtful. “It’s a little creepy.”
“He just likes what he can’t have.”
“That seems pretty accurate for him.”
You lean back in your chair, observing Six’s body language. His baseball cap pulled low, his sharp chin and honey-dark stubble revealed in flashes. He doesn’t look like a Court.
You’d heard about Six before you ever met him. The Gray Man. The man who existed outside the fold. You want to ask him questions, bug him about his scars. You want to compare stories. 
Suddenly, he shifts forward, lifting his arm to dab foam from the corner of your mouth. Just as quickly, he pulls away as if realizing what he’d done. “Sorry - I just - you had -”
“You’re fine, Six,” you reassure him, hiding a smile. “Thanks.”
***
Lloyd doesn’t necessarily hate Court Fucking Gentry. The man has dived out of a torpedoing airplane without a parachute. Yeah - he heard about that one. 
Lloyd read his file when he was given Operation Kill Ken. There’s stuff there. There’s some fat within all that gristle. Abusive father. Prison. Six doesn’t fuck around and, quite frankly, the man has more street cred than Lloyd will ever be able to touch. Lloyd went to an Ivy League for football. He wears loafers and cashmere. He’d skirted above the law until everything went ass-up in Croatia. 
But, shitty dads? He gets that one. 
He wasn’t lying when he said they could have been friends. The only issue he can see is that Six really doesn’t offer himself up. He seemingly does not know how to function as a person. He eats. He sleeps. He fucks (Lloyd hopes). He murders with style using the weirdest shit: pens, scissors, a well-placed shoelace. 
Lloyd has a very begrudging admiration for the guy. It kind of pains him that the only thing Six really seems all that interested in is 33. His little eyes brighten the second you speak to him or touch his shoulder or praise him for a job well done.
Meanwhile, you pretty much knock Lloyd upside the head whether you’re congratulating him or chastising him. It doesn’t matter. He isn’t jealous. Not really. 
Right?
***
The blast nearly takes you out. You manage to curse and roll out of the way before it explodes, but it does the job. Your ears ring. The world swirls in a black-red shriek. There’s a distant pain in your side, and your fingers are wet, your pants are soaked. You see blood. You may have broken something internally. The light is receding, and you can’t see what’s wrong with your stomach.  It’s difficult to breathe. Somewhere in the fog, you hear your name.
Not 33, but your name.
It’s Lloyd. He’s rushing toward you.
“Hey, hey.” He pats your cheek gently; his hand fits around your throat as he holds your head up. Opening your eyes, you see how close he is. There’s the thick stubble across his jaw, around his generous mouth. His lashes are long as pen strokes. He has crow’s feet now. His eyes blue with a hint of green. Mossy pond water. His thumb strokes your lower lip, wiping away the blood.
“There she is,” he murmurs. “You took a hit, Pumpkin, but Six is coming. We’ll get you out.”
You blink at him for a moment before your mouth twitches into a smile. He frowns. “What is it?” 
“You said we’ll….”
He scowls. “Don’t get too excited, duchess.” 
You blink the dust out of your eyes. Your heart rumbles in your chest. “I-I can’t…”
You can’t breathe. You want to tell him this, but the words are rattling behind your tongue. You’re drowning.
His expressions shifts into something nervous, deeply concerned. “What? Where does it hurt? Fuck - there’s a lot of blood.”
His eyes catalogue every piece of you, but when they move lower, he blanches. He goes quiet.
You feel like you’re falling, drifting out into a warm sea. There’s salt in your nose and tongue, and Vienna never happened. 
He slaps you lightly again. Shakes you until your teeth click. Don’t you fucking dare. Do. Not.
It’s dark.
“Shit,” he growls before shouting for Six.
***
From your doorway, Lloyd regards you with bewilderment. He doesn’t like this. He doesn’t like the very real shudder he felt when you got ripped open by a stray grenade. 
“She’ll live,” Six tells him as the doctors work overtime. “The boss went haywire, apparently flying in the best of the best.”
“It’s weird.”
“What is?”
“This boss,” Lloyd muses, scratching his beard. It’s all grown in, and he’s not going to ruminate over the fact that he may have done it for 33. “He’s got something personal with her.”
“We don’t ask questions,” Six reminds him as he leans against the wall. Lloyd’s eye catches the deep scar etched into Court’s bicep. It zigs zags until it disappears beneath his shirt sleeve. “But you knew her before this?”
“I met her in college,” 
“Harvard?”
“Yale, actually. She was at Yale.”
He recalls the specific memory in vivid color. It had been the Yale vs. Harvard Game, and he’d been starting. He’d lost, which had been expected, but still hurt. He’d gone to drown his sorrows at some frat house party, and he’d run into you. Drunk and pretty and lost. 
He hadn’t fucked you, of course. But he let you sleep in his bed, right up against his chest. Fully-clothed. In the morning, you’d been so embarrassed that you bought him breakfast, and it ran from there. You were friends. You were also smarter than him, which got him hard. He confided in you about his shit childhood while you shared your own ugly past. Very. Very. Lifetime.
After they were recruited junior year, they ultimately drew away from each other. Different assignments. Different training. Still - the CIA had inevitably carved them both into stone. Zero morals. Hard choices. They were soldiers.  
No impulse control. Unsanctioned torture. More kills than the entire Mossad. 
He stares at your body. You look tiny - sunken and broken and drained. Lloyd really thought there was no softness left in him. No warmth. 
“Should I leave you two alone?” Six asks, and Lloyd startles. He whips his head around to pin the blonde with an icy glare.
“Sit on my fucking face, Court.”
***
Something is going on between you and Lloyd. Six can feel it as the tension mounts. They’re in another safe house in Australia. The sun has bleached his hair and given Lloyd some much-needed color. 
You’re in better shape than a month ago when you’d gotten wrecked in Nice. Your blood had stained his hands. He’d cupped your insides, and, for a moment, he’d been upset.
Disturbed. Sad.
“C’mon,” he had encouraged, teetering toward the edge of panic. “C’mon - eyes up. It’s a scratch.” But your eyes had remained shut and didn’t open for three days. 
In the weeks following the incident, Lloyd goes out of his way for you. He displays these small gestures of affection like when he opens your door and helps you out of the car, when he reloads your gun, or when he makes you coffee and purposefully doesn’t bring Six any. 
What am I doing here? Six asks himself this nightly, and the answer is always right behind it.
Because you have no other options. You have jack shit, and this has always been your life. 
It doesn’t help that he kind of likes 33. You’re cracked in certain places, but you’re just as skilled as he is. Incredible strategist. Unreal sniper capabilities. Artistic with a knife. Beautiful in a conflicting fashion. Sometimes he sees you as the girl next door, familiar and tender as caramel popcorn at a baseball game. Sometimes he sees you as a tropical storm, full of heat and difficult to grasp. Sometimes he sees you as the stars above, cold, unfeeling, and far away. 
Today, they’re sitting in an old jeep. You and Six are waiting for Lloyd to return from stealing back an asset another team lost. It’s some hard drive in a lab, which is very on the nose for their line of work. Six prefers the mercenary stuff. He doesn’t like having to carry valuables.
The air tastes like rain even though the sun is burning Six’s scalp. The AC puffs and spits, but he’s still sweating down to his ass. 
He watches you tap your fingers against the wheel. It’s been three hours of twiddling their thumbs. They’ve covered every topic imaginable before they just resigned themselves to this silence. 
He thinks of the tension between you and Lloyd. Out of his own sick curiosity, he wants to puncture it. 
“Did you and Lloyd ever fuck?” It slips out of his mouth before he can stop it, and you whirl around to look at him. Your lips part in surprise. 
“What?”
“Sorry,” he smiles. “I meant to say - did you guys ever hook up?”
“Because that’s so much better. Real subtle.”
“I’m a subtle guy.”
“Didn’t you already ask this?”
“C’mon,” he presses. “I see the way he looks at you. I know you guys knew each other in college.”
In fact, you never really told him anything. You said Lloyd wanted what he couldn’t have and didn’t expand on it. Lloyd had been incredibly aloof about your past, and Six didn’t know why he even cared this much. In truth, he’d never been part of a team before. He’d never had partners or anyone to relate to and live with. Yeah - he didn’t like Lloyd, but the guy got the job done. Hansen had seemingly calmed down, and most of Six’s ego thought it was because he’d kicked the guy’s ass. Brought him down to size. 
“We didn’t,” you reply as you cut him a sharp glance. Your eyes glisten in the sun, and he swallows. “We met in college and were friends, and we stayed that way.”
“How come?”
“Because fucking him is like the surefire way to get him to never speak to you again.”
Oh. 
So, maybe, you did care. 
“You know what’s funny?” you continue. “I told him I’d screw you before I screwed him.”
Caught off guard, Six chokes on his own spit. He smacks his fist against his chest to clear the shock. You’re staring at him, lips curled into a devious grin bordering on seduction, and - how did this happen? He hasn’t had sex in months. Maybe, since Bangkok? He’s positive Lloyd goes out most nights to find something to take the edge off. Drown his frustration in some poor chick who isn’t you.
Six feels himself twitch. His dark jeans are too snug, and he isn’t sure what to do.
“Me? Wow,” he replies, laughing a little. “Thanks for the opportunity.”
Your expression is thoughtful. Your lovely eyes drift over his face as if you’re taking stock. Do I do this? I should just fucking do this. He leans forward, leaving a breath between them. The AC creaks. The car’s engine ticks. It’s too hot, but his palm finds your cheek, and you let him tilt your head.
Your lips are soft as he meets them. Your tongue coaxes his mouth apart, and it’s tender. This kiss. This moment between them that he didn’t expect. Your hands slide into his hair, arms winding around his neck. You’re in his lap, and this is dangerous, cutting it close. They’re supposed to be on guard.
He can’t release you. He doesn’t want to. He’s lifting his hips as you grind down against him. There are the wet noises of their lips and tongues colliding. You’re making these muffled whimpers that are knocking him flat. He feels like he’s back in high school. All of his lovers have been nameless, faceless people across the world. Sex in alleys or dark rooms or between the shadows. Paid or unpaid. 
He knows you. You’re not a stranger. They’ve spent months together. He can tell anyone how you like your eggs, how fruit-scented candles make your nose wrinkle, or what you look like handling an RPL-20. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Reflexively, Six snatches his gun and aims it at the window, only to find Lloyd there. He is glowering; an M320 casually slung over his shoulder.
You scramble off Six and end up falling back against the dash. Your hand flies to your side where you’d been wounded in Nice. The stitches still raw.
“Fuck,” you hiss and then shoot Lloyd an apologetic look. “Lloyd-”
“Don’t,” he snaps before ripping the car door open and sliding into the backseat.
Silently, you disentangle yourself from Six’s lap and get behind the wheel. 
It’s a fucking awkward ride home.
***
Your subconscious must hate your ass because you haven’t been sleeping. It’s a nightmare - Vienna - and you wake up with tears on your cheeks. Your nose is stuffed, and your throat is sore. 
There’s movement in the corner of your room, and you yank your gun from beneath your pillow. Clicking off the safety and aiming.
“Hey,” Six’s calm voice fills the space. “You were screaming.”
Shit. Shit. 
Heat erupts under your skin. “How loud?”
“I mean, I was down the hall in a dead sleep.”
You groan, dropping the gun onto your side table before shoving your face into your pillow. “Did Lloyd hear?” It comes out muffled, but Six catches it. You feel the bed dip under his weight, his hand finding your knee over the covers. 
“He went into town. Hasn’t come back.”
“Figures.”
“You want to talk about it.”
“Do you ever want to talk about it?”
“You got me there.”
You flip onto your back so you can look at him. Through the gauzy curtains of their bungalow, the moon bounces off his golden hair. You realize he’s not wearing a shirt, and you can see the ugly knotted flesh of pink scar tissue that covers his shoulders and bicep.
“Regret is pointless,” you mutter. “It’s a weakness.”
You’re fairly certain Lloyd told you that once after he burned his mark alive. But that had been back in the CIA.
Six nods, humming in agreement. His hand slides up your leg before sliding back down. He does this - just this - and your body begins to respond. There’s another twinge of guilt in your belly. When he saw you straddling Six, Lloyd’s expression had been wrecked. You know he’s furious. He’s probably taking it out on some poor soul. He’s probably fucking someone else. 
Beneath the cover of darkness, you can blatantly study Six. It’s an alien feeling. You have a softness for him. He’s completely different from Lloyd, yet he is just as dangerous. He slaughters swiftly and hopes that they deserve it. There’s a swagger about him that he doesn’t intend. He’s dry. He’s sarcastic in the direst of moments. There’s a piece of you wanting to turn him over, shake him, and see what spills out.
“Court,” you murmur, unsure what he wants. 
“Don’t call me that,” he chastises as he begins to make his way up the bed. He’s shaken his identity off. He’s gray - he’s nothing - he’s just air. He hovers above you, planting his arm beside your head so he can bear his weight. You touch the ridge of the scar that rides his shoulder before your palm slides to his heart. It’s beating fast - a thump thump thump that echoes in the silence. 
“You’re not nothing, Six,” you tell him, and you can’t see his eyes, but he does drop his head and captures your mouth in a kiss that vibrates through your skull. He’s ripping your blankets away; he’s wedging himself between your legs, rucking his boxers down. You grasp his cock, pump him once and then twice before he’s already pushing inside you. You gasp - fingernails breaking the skin at the nape of his neck. He groans - circling his hips, testing the waters before he lazily draws back and thrusts forward. The bed squeaks. The headboard knocks against the wall. 
He threads his calloused fingers through yours and shoves your hand into the mattress. He pins you beneath him, taking you in long, agonizing strokes. You moan against his tongue as he licks the cup of your mouth. He peppers kisses across your cheeks and brow as he fucks you. A snapshot of something sweet compared to how hard his pace is.
The nightmare fades - disintegrates into nothing. You swear you hear the front door open.
“No regrets, right?” Six reminds you as he throws your legs over his shoulders and sinks deeper. He’s sitting back on his heels, head cocked as he admires you splayed before him and then the place he’s disappearing inside you. He’s incredibly built, thicker than Lloyd and you wouldn’t expect it with his ugly zip-ups and old t-shirts. His thumb finds your clit. “Tell me.”
“No regrets.” He presses down. 
***
When Six sees Lloyd the next morning, it becomes apparent that he wants to peel his face-skin from his bones. His eyes are slits. His mouth flattened to a firm line as the muscle in his jaw pops. He cracks his neck and cleans his guns on the outdoor patio. He says nothing, but it’s obvious.
He definitely heard them.
Six shrugs it off. It is what it is. He can’t help it. It happened - kind of rolled together. Like calling to like. You can’t keep adrenaline-soaked mercenaries in a tiny house for months and months with no outlet. 
Also - yeah - he may kind of like you. He likes you because you’re so hard. You sink your heels into the ground and don’t budge. Remorse will get you killed. Grief. Fear. Stay cold and distant and turn off all your compassion and you're good.
The thing was - Six was positive you couldn't. You hesitated on certain missions when it came to civilian interference. It was Lloyd who took those shots for you. It was Lloyd who would gently push you out of the way and claim that kill.
Six is shaken from his thoughts when he hears your feet pad down the hallway.
“Um - hi,” you mumble as you hastily step into the kitchen. 
You’re just as lovely in the morning as you are at night. You busy yourself by making eggs. When Lloyd’s head is turned toward the sun, Six darts from his chair and touches your hip, he seals his chest to your back and pins you to the sink. 
“Morning,” His voice is low, thick from lack of sleep. Your ass presses back against him and all his blood runs south. Fuck. 
When he tries to catch your eyes in the reflection over the faucet, you duck your gaze and accidentally drop an egg onto the floor. He isn’t sure how someone who has beheaded a person can be so coy and yet. 
“Meet me in your room,” he murmurs as he slips his fingertips over the nape of your neck. You shudder, before silently tossing the pan into the sink with its runny, half-congealed eggs and darting back to your bed. 
Six grins before he realizes that Lloyd is once again looking into the kitchen. The gun is forgotten on the table beside him as he leans back in his chair. He’s staring at the space you just vacated. His expression is not exactly angry, but puzzled. A little sad. 
For a moment, Six pities him. 
***
You hear Lloyd before you see him. His steps are heavy as they vibrate through the hallway of the house. It’s been a week. He hasn’t spoken to you due to Six constantly hovering at your side. Lloyd’s anger flourishes; it is palpable.
Of course, he reigns fire once Six is out on a mission.
When Hansen finally spots you, his lips peel apart into a blinding grin. “Fucking finally,” he crows as he strides toward you. You stumble backward, hitting the wall. You curse yourself for giving a shit about this, but you don’t know what to say. 
When Lloyd reaches you, his good hand curls around your throat. He thrusts his thigh between your legs and holds you there like a rag doll. His mouth is a millimeter from yours. His lower lip brushes your top one; his breath warm against your face. “Jesus, that fucking guy is like a god damn insect,” he snarls. “Wouldn’t even give me a moment with you. Has he staked his claim already? Covered you in his fucking come or something? I heard all the noises he made while he was inside you. How good was it?”
You blink at him. He’s not choking you, but the pressure of his thumb against your windpipe is uncomfortable. “Lloyd-”
He drives his thigh harder against your cunt, the muscle of it right up at your heat. “Tell me, duchess. I want to know.”
“It-it was good.”
He cocks his head, his blue eyes too bright under the hallway lights. He looks a brush manic, and you find yourself gripping his shoulders, trying to ground him. He’s upset. He’s not just angry. He’s sad.
“Not me, huh?” he asks, eyebrows lifting. “Is it the hand? Probably can’t ruin you the way I want to, but I could try.”
You frown. “It’s not your hand, Lloyd. Don’t be ridiculous.”
His thumb finds purchase under your jaw. He pushes it in a little. You gasp. “Hansen - you - you were in town fucking someone else - I - I don’t know what you want -”
“No,” he growls. “It was always going to be him. You told me yourself.”
“Let me go for one fucking second, you fucker.”
“No.”
You shoot your hand up and twist his ear violently to the side. He stumbles backward, hissing in pain. “Oh, you fucking bitch-”
You point your finger at him. “No - just no - chill out so I can explain.”
He straightens, his eyes narrowing to slits. He’s flushed with rage, his chest hitching. You’ve never seen him this emotional. His anger is usually a cold thing - winding up before it explodes, and then it burns out. 
“I fuck you, and you’ll get bored,” you accuse. “You have no impulse control, Hansen. You get obsessed, and then you forget why you were obsessed in the first place. No offense, but I don’t feel like being another notch on your bedpost, especially because we’re partners.”
He frowns. “You wouldn’t be.”
“I’ve seen you do it to every girl you’ve ever had.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. His remaining scarred fingers curl beneath his bicep. “Every girl isn’t you.”
Huh.
He rolls his eyes. “Jesus, princess,” He clicks his tongue. “For someone so skilled at spec ops, you’re fucking hopeless in the body language department. Do you think I would have spent this much time with you if I didn’t care? I’m not counting the last few months because you pretty much railroaded me into this, but I’m talking college, before the CIA.” He points to you and then to himself. “You and me? We’re the same. Granted - you may have a dash more empathy, but I knew who you were when we met, and I liked it.”
You stare at him - stunned. 
“Vienna?” His expression softens. “Yeah - I knew what you had to do and why you did it. I know you made the tough choice because you were the only one capable of it. You were trained to compartmentalize and toss out the rest. I fucking hate to say it, but Six is the same. It’s the job.”
“Those - those aren’t great qualities to want in a girlfriend.”
He snorts. “I care about you. I like you. A lot. I can spell it out. I can send you a card or flowers or fuck you into next week, but that is the truth. The rest means dick to me.”
You stumbling over your words. “You - you don’t like anyone. It’s literally in your file. Sociopathic tendencies.”
He smirks, and it only highlights his handsomeness. “Sociopathic tendencies. Keyword, there. Doesn’t mean there aren't a few people I’d die for if necessary.” 
“I don’t believe you.” 
You really couldn’t. All the stories you’d heard about Lloyd painted him as a complete narcissist. He cared about money and being better than anyone else. He liked pain. He liked winning. He couldn’t be collared.
He’d followed your career, though. He understood why you did the things you did. Here he was - unfurling for you, baring himself and declaring that everything you hate about who you are is alright in his book. 
“Then let me show you,” he replies urgently. He steps back into your space, his hands finding your hips. He lowers his head, his gaze trained on yours as the corner of his mouth quirks. You’re chest to chest, and he’s wearing one of those ridiculous soft-knit collared shirts that cost hundreds. 
Slowly he grips the backs of your thighs and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, hooking your ankles right over his perfect ass. Your spine brushes up the wall, and you cradle his face, thumb rubbing over his cheekbone. “I mean, I shaved the stache for you,” he teases as he ruts against your lace covered pussy. You reach down between you, unbuckling his belt and pulling him out. It’s a slow, methodical dance. His eyes don’t leave yours, and he doesn’t prep you or lick you open; he just lets you hitch your panties to the side and guide him into your sex.
“Oh,” you gasp. “Oh - fuck -”
He shudders, breath warm against your mouth. He saws his hips, easing out until it's only the tip before shoving himself forward. He’s bigger than you expected. It kind of hurts, but he quickens his pace and you forget. It burns and throbs and lights up your blood.
“Come on, duchess,” he drawls. “Kiss me.”
You do, tongue plunging behind his teeth as you fist his hair. At some point, you both fall over, and then he’s forced onto his back, and you're on top. You ride him, the skirt of your cotton sun dress flowing over his thighs. His hand is on your ass, while you reach for the other one. He gives it to you cautiously, but you coax him - praise him - tell him it’s okay. You grasp his wrist and tug the mutilated fingers up, threading them with your own, pressing your lips to the ones that remain. That seems to do something. His eyes widen, his brow lifts, and he groans. He plants his feet and fucks up into you. He leads a messy rhythm, and you respond to it, bouncing, clenching, and circling your pelvis to meet every punch of his cock. 
His head falls back against the floor. “Jesus fucking christ, baby,” he rumbles. “You’ve got a tight pussy.” You rock down into him, rubbing exactly where you need to, right against his pelvic bone. You’re close, and he’s so hard that his length is pulsing inside you. He’s at his end just as you skate over yours. He sits up, his hand grasping the nape of your neck as he forces you to his mouth for a clumsy kiss. He flips you onto your back, burying himself to the hilt before you can mourn his loss. One final drag of his cock as your walls flutter and clutch, and then it’s over. He collapses on top of you, his mouth wetly smearing your cheek before he drops his face into your neck.
“You’re perfect,” he husks. “I’m getting hard again.”
You punch the side of his arm and try to haul him off you, but he’s too heavy. Finally, he relents. He rolls onto his side and slaps your ass. “Well, that was great, honey,” he jokes. “Now - I’m off to fuck someone else.”
“I hate you.”
“Nah.”
***
“Judging by the text I got from Lloyd, I take it you guys made up.”
You go rigid at the stove. You’re stirring a pot of soup you threw together and Six is sitting at the table. Casual. Quiet. Perfectly normal. You feel on the spot. There’s still the intense ache between your legs. You’re raw and swollen. Lloyd had licked his own come out of your pussy before fucking you a second time.
“What-what did it say?”
You hear Six unlock his phone before loudly reading. “Hey fuck face! 33 and I will now be regularly having wild animal sex. We should probably figure out a sched. PS. I ate her out on your bed.”
You whirl around. “He did not.”
Six’s mouth quirks. “But you guys did everything else?”
You wring your hands before you glide toward him. He opens his arms, and you sit on his lap. It’s familiar - it feels normal. “Lloyd and I are….” You search for the word and come up empty.
“Complicated?” Six offers. 
“Yeah,” you reply. “And weird. We - we have a lot in common, and he knew me. Before the CIA…before all of this…” You gesture around you. “He knew me when I wasn’t so fucked up.” You sigh, rubbing the place between your brows before finishing. “We have something.”
Six nods in that particular way he has. He’s not angry, just resigned. You touch his cheek. “You and I have something, too.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “So what? You want us to share.”
“If you’re able.”
“Does Lloyd even know how to share?”
“We could teach him.”
***
In a way, they’re orphans. Lost. Touching in the dark. Lloyd’s mouth burns against yours as Six buries his face between your legs. “Let go,” Lloyd orders. “Relax, duchess. Let him eat you out.”
You arch when Six sucks your clit, and Lloyd drops his head to lick your nipple. He massages the other breast as he noses your cheek. “You need more?”
“Yeah?” you breathe. “Yes.”
“Mmmkay,” he croons before fisting Six’s hair and shoving his face deeper against your cunt. Six groans, the muscles in his back undulating as his fingertips bruise the undersides of your thighs. The only time Six listens to Lloyd is when he’s in bed with you.
“Fuck,” Lloyd rumbles. “That’s so hot. Who would have thought I’d have a cuck kink?”
Your hips buck up against Six’s face, and he responds by pushing two of his fingers into you. Your stomach flips, and Lloyd steels his arm around your waist. He holds you down as he watches Six crack you open, flattening his tongue from hole to clit.
“Bunny,” Hansen murmurs, his beard scraping your throat. “You’re soaking Court’s face.”
You can feel Six bristle at the name, but he doesn’t let up. He continues to work you over. He’s thorough in all aspects of his life.
Lloyd’s touch falls from Six’s hair to his shoulders; it strokes the deep, etched line of his scars that wrap around his body. You’re riveted - gaze following the path his hand takes as he just feels Six’s marked flesh. Lloyd’s other hand traces your scars, the few fingers that remain slide along your stomach where the bomb split you near in half. In the dim light of his bedroom, your eyes find Lloyd’s, and he reaches between you and Six, boldly caressing exactly where Six is dipping his tongue. 
You shudder. 
“How many scars do you think we have?” Lloyd marvels just as you climax, hips rolling against Six’s face as he anchors you to the bed. Lloyd’s question hangs between you, and you can’t tell if he’s being serious. “I mean, it’s kind of wild,” he grins as he drops his head to kiss your stomach. “We’re still all incredibly good-looking.”
Despite himself, Six laughs. 
Part Two
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hansensgirl · 1 year
Text
𖦹 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 (☠︎)
summary. — A HARV(AMPIRE)ARD LEGACY — mr. hansen has a mess for you, and as his maid, you have no choice but to clean it up.
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pairings. — dark!boss!Lloyd Hansen x maid!fem!reader.
warnings. — DUBCON, dark themes, coercion, manipulation, boss/employee, perversion, smut, Sir kink, balls in mouth, male masturbation, (f) grinding on a shoe, degradation, mild praise, pet names (sweetheart), mentions of licking a shoe, dirty talk, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!
word count. — 1.4k
author’s note. — the purgatory’s masterlist. posting order is the chronological order in this au. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY! @hansensfics
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The way Mr. Hansen whispers your name is a harsh contrast from when he shouted it a few moments before, telling you to come to his office and help him out with something. As his maid, you rushed your way over to his room as soon as you could. 
“That’s it—there you go, slut,” he grunts, left hand pushing your head further towards his balls and his other fists his cock. Beads of pre-cum leak from his tip, dripping down the side of his shaft to his sack, where you drink it all up. “What a fucking cockwhore.”
Lloyd strokes his dick as you enthusiastically lap at his balls with your tongue. He keeps his gaze trained on you, admiring the glazed-over look on your face and your desperation to help your boss out. “Good girl. Always knew you’d love suckin’ on my balls, bitch.”
His foot wiggles side to side just a little bit, but it’s enough to have you whining even louder. Your hips gyrate as you heed one of sir’s orders—rub that cunt on my foot, sweetheart. The leather shines with your slick, not polish. The tip of the loafer nudges at your drooling fuckhole, arousal making a mess everywhere.
“Look at that… My cock’s bigger than your fuckin’ face, sweetheart,” Lloyd chuckles, the size difference making him throb in his hand. Or is that from the vibrations your lewd sounds are causing? “My god...”
You slobber all over his sack, trying to fit both of his balls in your mouth because you figure it’ll make the pleasure come in tenfold for him. It’s amusing to your boss—how much of a slut you are for him. He doesn’t even have to ask you to do better—in fact, he may have to tell you to take it easy, or else you’re going to choke.
But maybe Lloyd wants to see you gag and sputter while you try to take more of his sack into your mouth. You suck on his balls with the perfect amount of determination. Your eyebrows are raised slightly, and you drag your tongue against the heavy skin.
“Such a dirty little girl. Sucking on my fat balls and humping my foot like a bitch in heat. You’re lucky you’re cute, even if you look pathetic,” Lloyd spits, cock glistening as he catches some of his pre-cum and uses it as lube. “Bet you can barely think straight down there. Just focused on making me feel good.”
You hum against his sack, and Lloyd curses loudly from the sensation. If he had known you’d be such an eager little thing, he’d have shoved his balls into your mouth way earlier. 
While your boss’s hand glides on his shaft, your pussy rubs against his shoe with equal ease. The nerves on your clit are alight with a pleasurable fire that spreads heat through your entire body. You alternate between kissing, licking, and sucking lightly. 
The pop that resounds when you let go makes you whine—and you quickly try and get him back in your mouth. “Atta girl. I might as well give you a promotion with the way you’re working so hard for my cum.”
It’s almost as if you lose control of your movements, too caught up in making Lloyd feel good. Your hips come to a halt, but when he immediately squeezes your neck, you resume your quick, needy humping.
“But it doesn’t matter, does it? You were my slut since day one, sweetheart,” he grunts before pulling you away from his crotch. He slows down the pace at which he fucks his hand. Lloyd leans down a bit, tilting your head back and he squints his eyes. “Pretty, pretty girl… You’re all ruined, baby. You don’t care, do you? You just want to please Mr. Hansen.”
He watches you carefully, admiring your tears and spit-covered mouth. The tinted lip gloss he applied for you when you arrived is all smeared, and even its remnants are gone with the way you’re all messy. Strings of saliva keep you connected to his cock, and you try to move forward and resume playing with his balls.
“Nuh-uh-uh. Good sluts like you don’t call the shots. I do. And you’re my good little whore, aren’t you, baby?” Lloyd questions, shifting his foot against to make you cry out softly. “Uh-huh. ‘M your good little wh– whore, Sir,” you repeat, learnt from the other men in your life. 
“That’s right, sweetheart. You want my cock so badly, don’t you? Just wanna get that slut-mouth on my balls and slobber all over them, hm?” Mr. Hansen further prods. You make the arms you’ve got wrapped around his calf even tighter, wanting to be close to him in some way. Too out of breath, you simply nod your head. 
“Poor thing. You’re addicted to cock, aren’t you?” 
Again, you nod your head. Lloyd coos at you. “Can barely go without it—always begging for it. Is that why you’re such a cocktease? Making me so hard all the damn time.”
He pulls you back towards his cock, but he tells you to pick up the pace before that. “Can’t wait to see you come all over my shoes, sweetheart. These are expensive, y’know, and I’d hate to have to get another pair…”
Your body moves at a pace that tries to rival your mouth. You suck on one of his balls, and you use one of your hands to cradle the other, stroking it lightly. You try to give both equal attention, but it’s hard as your climax begins to rise.
The noises you make are louder and more pathetic, moans causing vibrations that bring Lloyd closer to his own release. Your mouth parts as wide as it can and you try to take his entire sack again. 
Mr. Hansen says all kinds of dirty, mean things about your desperation. Things that your step dad said when he learned about it, but in contrast, Ari soothed the burn of his words immediately.
Lloyd doesn’t.
“C’mon. Make a mess on my shoe, sweetheart. Cover it in your cream, baby,” he urges, and on his demand, your body seizes before thrashing as much as the lack of space lets you. “Good girl—good whore,” Lloyd marvels, watching as your eyes squeeze shut.
Though your cunt is spasming on his foot, your mouth doesn’t relent. Your clit throbs and jolts are sent throughout your body when you try to ride out your orgasm, unable to handle the feeling. It’s adorable, really. 
Usually, it’s someone else who’s torturing your itty bitty cunt. And when you (try to) run away, they manage to pull you back and bully your pussy even more. Lloyd’s mean—quite possibly meaner than Daddy or Ransom. So it’s odd to be granted such freedom to just stop when he is the most likely—most obvious, person to make you keep going.
“Aw, poor baby… That little snatch can’t handle a li’l bit of rubbin’? How cute,” Mr. Hansen coos, and he picks up the pace of his hand. The older man is close, groans and growls rumbling in his chest. “If you didn’t have my balls stuffed in your pretty mouth, I’d make you keep going ‘till you’re squirting all over my shoe.”
You whimper—he’s just like them. The men who bring you to the land of pleasure and make you tread on the line of pain that you can’t get enough of. Even when you’re crying and begging you still take it like a good girl.
“Either way, you’re still gonna clean up after yourself, right, sweetheart?” he roughly questions, eyebrows furrowing slightly. With one of his heavy balls in your mouth, you nod your head and lick at the skin like it’s your favourite popsicle. “Good girl. Gonna lick it all up for me, shine my shoe with that cock-loving mouth.”
Before you can even say or think of anything, Lloyd pulls you away from his sack and moves you upwards. He shoves the bulbous head of his cock into your mouth, and the musky taste of his balls is dulled away from the saltiness of his cum.
Ribbons of spunk shoot into your mouth and fill it up. It’s almost neverending with the way he’s emptying his seed. Afraid of ruining the moment for him, you swallow like how Stevie taught you. Lloyd sighs softly when your lips and cheeks tighten around him slightly.
“Shit… Such a talented little mouth. And an eager whore, too,” your boss whispers, locking eyes with your doe-like ones. He pulls you off gently, cock sensitive yet still hard. “How about you put it to use and make my shoe look all brand new? That’s what maids are for, anyway.”
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3 Billion Divorce - Lloyd Hansen Series (Completed)
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Character: Lloyd HansenxFem!Richreader
Summary: Reader became a rich heiress after her grandfather chose her as his successor. This reason was enough to make her relatives want her gone. Our reader is a fighter; when she finds a chance, she offers a fake marriage proposal to a sociopath mercenary. 
Words Count: 1750
A/N: Finally, I'm back. Never thought that I could make a post with Lloyd. It's been a while since the last time I posted. Hope you like it. Feedback and Reblogged are appreciated. Thank you!!!
The Italic font shows a flashback scene.
Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist
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Sometimes, simple things like waking up from a good sleep and having a coffee in the morning sound easy. To you, it sounds impossible. 
Because of everyday… 
Dangers always come to you. You must pay this price when you accept your grandfather's will. 
Four years ago,
Your grandfather wrote your name on his will to become his successor and owner of all his assets. But you have to be 35 years old before you get everything.
After the lawyer revealed the will, your relatives wanted you dead, so the grandfather's money would go to charity, and they could use it. 
Since then, your quiet life has turned to hell. 
Your relatives have hired multiple killers and assassins to kill you or make it look like a suicide. It's been four years of living like this. 
And there's only one more year left, the chasing getting more intense that you can't bear it anymore. 
Like today, you’ve been hiding in the back seat inside your car because a black Cadillac has been chasing you all day.
“I had enough with everyone who wanted me to die. What a family huh? They were born as elites but they’re monsters.”
Your old bodyguard Jimmy, an ex-Navy hired to protect you who was busy shooting the other car, said, "Y/N. To beat a monster, you have to make yourself a monster."
His words got you thinking. You want revenge on your relatives, but you don't have the ability since they have already bribed the police and judges. You are already powerless; the only person who always stays beside you is your old bodyguard. 
Before you could even get any idea, another car appeared from nowhere and hit yours.
“Jimmy!” You screamed the name that protected you before you lost consciousness.  
When you woke up, you already being tied down on the chair.
You look at your surrounding where you got kidnapped. It’s different than usual. Usually, it’s a dark basement with a horrible smell. 
But right now, you’re inside a nice room with a marble floor and Roman pillar. There’s also Renaissance painting and sculpture.  It seems like you’re in a mansion or something like that. 
The door suddenly opens, making you nervous because you are mentally unprepared to meet someone who will kill you. 
A group of men who wear bulletproof come inside the room. Lastly, a man who wears a black turtleneck and light brown pants. But you can see everything he wears is from a luxury brand. 
He leaned down and smiled at you. 
"Hello Princess, my name is Lloyd Hansen. Welcome to my home”. His voice was low and deep. 
‘His mustache looks ridiculous.’ You thought. 
His hand grabbed a screen tablet to show you the money that had been transferred.
“Someone really wants you dead. Look at the money they gave me. This is the biggest payment that I have received." You could feel the joy when he explained while you have a life crisis.
You wonder how much your relatives pay to make you go. When you saw the number… 
Ooh, it made you fume with rage. 
40 Million Dollars?!
Your life is only worth 40 Million?! 
With all the money you will get from your grandfather, your life is worth more than 40 Million. 
‘You have to make yourself a monster.’ You remembered those sentences from Jimmy. 
That gave you an idea. 
This man Lloyd Hansen, you could use him to be the monster to finish all relatives that want you dead.
"Mr. Hansen, I  don't want to die."
He nodded. "Me too sweetheart. But I've already got the money. They really want you to be gone quickly. Such a shame."
"If I gave you a proposal to make you richer, would you listen to my offer?"
Lloyd tapped his watch. "You have 3 minutes, sunshine."
“First of all, are you single Mr.Hansen?”
Lloyd let out a big laugh. 
But you didn’t laugh; you studied his character. After spending time with your bodyguard Jimmy, he taught you how to read people. You figure this man Lloyd is a sociopath, and seeing him acting childish like this, you take a bet that he is still single. 
With this, you took a chance and gathered your confidence. “I assume you are, that made my plan easier.”
You took a moment before offering the proposal because he would end your life if he didn’t like it.
"3 Billion Dollars."
'WHAT!' His soldier gasped when they heard the number.
Your offer got the attention, "I will give you 3 billion, but I want you to do something for me."
Even Lloyd never expected that. He did a background check on you. 
You’ve been trying to stay alive for 4 years. That's when he knew you're an extraordinary woman.  
One of his soldiers steps in, "I volunteer Miss Y/N."
Before you could see who it was, Lloyd had already shot him.
He smiled. "I could swim in that money, what can I do for you?"
"Marry me."
Lloyd's brain circuit stopped for a second. He laughed again, but he stopped when he saw you being serious.
"I didn't expect I would get proposed like this."
"You know I'm a rich heiress, and I will get my money next year. While waiting, I need someone to protect me and keep me alive. After that we will get a divorce and you will get other 2 billions. Right now, I could give you 1 billion. What do you think?"
There was a moment of silence. You could only hear the clock ticking. After he hears your offer, Lloyd turns his back and looks at the big French window. You couldn't see his expression. 
Suddenly he turns around and walks towards you. Lloyd got on his knees and grabbed your hand. "You got yourself a husband, Mrs. Hansen."
'Yeah, you caught a monster.'
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-One year later-
Lloyd arrived at your company and saw your bodyguard, Jimmy. Lloyd clicked his tongue. “Where’s my wife?” Jimmy pointed to the door behind him.
Lloyd pushed the door and saw you look busy signing some documents, not glancing at him. 
He told your secretary, who was already scared, "Get out shithead."
After your secretary left, he turned around and saw you had crossed your arms while looking at him. Ooh, so you’ve been waiting. 
He always loves your confidence. This trait must be one reason your grandfather chose you as the successor. 
Lloyd smashed a piece of paper on your table. "What the fuck is this?"
"It's a divorce paper."
"Yeah, and you didn't even think to discuss it with me first ?"
"It's been a year Lloyd, we made a deal. Remember?"
It made Lloyd silent. 
Of course, he remembered. 
Lloyd wishes he could stop the time.
After he agreed to marry you, his life became more exciting. 
Lloyd always dealt with different hitmen, politicians who wanted to steal your assets, assassins, and taking revenge on your relatives who wished you were dead. 
With the 1 billion, he could get all the resources and finish his job quickly and quietly. He got new clients every day. 
But most of all, Lloyd cherished the time spent with you. He loves every moment. You have a sharp mouth, don't take No for an answer; he likes it when you act like a boss to him. He wants to obey your order. 
And… 
The sex was also excellent. You weren't tempted at first. But who can't resist the charm of Lloyd Hansen? At first, it was just pretending to act like husband and wife. Give each other kisses on the cheeks, then move to the next step because of the alcohol effect that leads to sleeping together. 
When you fell asleep on his chest, his fingers brushed your hair. You gave him a soft kiss on his forehead; it made him like a teenager who was drunk in love. 
You were there every time he got hurt. You hired the best doctor to treat him. No one ever does that to him. He knew because you needed him to stay alive. But when he saw you holding his hand while he was bleeding, Lloyd knew you cared for him. 
He likes having you near him and can't bear letting you go. 
Lloyd realised his feelings when Jimmy came and gave him the brown envelope. 
Lloyd knew what was inside the paper, so he ignored it. But that damn envelope keeps coming after you get the inheritance and you have left the house that you two shared.  He felt like a used rag that you could just throw away. 
He can’t imagine seeing you being single, and another man will try to pursue you. 
"If you sign it today, the other 2 billion will be transferred to your account."
"I don't want to."
"6 billion then."
Lloyd's hand touches his left chest.
"What hurts me more is that you have the money and could finish this as soon as possible."
Then both of you will be strangers; NO, he didn't want that. 
"After you use my body, you throw me away? You hurt my feelings sunshine."
You walk away from your table to stand in front of him. 
"Lloyd, that's part of our deal. You protect me and I owe you one.” 
You couldn’t believe he’s the same man who wants to kill you, and now he’s begging you not to leave him.
“And I paid my debt with money that I promised."
He sighed and said, "I do love money."
Lloyd held your hand that still wore the wedding ring; he rubbed it gently. 
"But my dear wife, I love you more."
Your breath hitched when you heard his sudden confession. You were stunned to speak. 
Lloyd grabbed your chin and gave you a passionate kiss. "I won't let this marriage end with divorce." 
Lloyd kissed your forehead before he left you. Before he reached the door, he saw from the mirror your reflection. Your fingers touch your lips. At that moment, he knew you shared the same feelings. He will give you an offer that you can’t resist. 
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A/N : This Series has Completed.
Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist
buy me ko-fi
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justalonelyslytherin · 11 months
Text
Happy Father's Day - Lloyd Hansen
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Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x female Reader
Warnings: cursing, violence, gun handling and shooting, death, blood, insinuation/mention of hurting and/or killing a child
Wordcount: 3.9k
If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I don’t allow for my content to be copied, translated, or reposted on other websites/apps. Please don’t steal my work.
A/N: Another one of the longer ones in this series. Writing Lloyd was so much fun. And I really enjoyed this scenario and the open end, if Reader and Lloyd will get along or not. Part of the ‘Happy Father’s Day’ series. Dividers by the fantastic @/firefly-graphics
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Footsteps echoed through the empty hall, drawing nearer until the door swung open. A figure walked into the office.
“You are late.” 
Carmichael, who had been sitting in his chair and watching the arriving car through the dimmed window, turned around.
“Yeah well, I didn’t want to be here.”
“It’ll be worth your expenditure.”
“You better be paying me good for this. Summoning me here, you are becoming flamboyant. I could be otherwise entertained.”
“As always. You should know better of me.” Carmichael pursed his lips, glancing at the other man over his glasses. “This one is a special mission.”
“Are you finally getting rid of Susan, that frigid bitch?”
“No. But similar. I wanted to see your reaction myself.”
“And once you're finished we’ll have a drink together. Like the good old times.”
Lloyd raised an eyebrow as Carmichael opened a drawer. Withdrawing the file in an exaggerated motion, he held it in the air. It was inconspicuous. Like any other file the CIA used on their targets.
With a heavy thud it landed on the dark wooden desk, the noise reverberated through the dim office. Licking his lips and cocking his hip out, Lloyd took a lazy step forward. He swiped the file up in one smooth motion. Opening it, he was greeted with a picture. 
Lloyd’s grip tightened around the file, the etches crinkling. His jaw ticked, square, and ready to snap as he eyed the contents.
“Her?” He asked after a tense, long silence. 
“Her,” Carmichael confirmed. He leaned forward in his seat, elbows placed on the edge of the desk, “I want her disposed of.”
“Any particular reason?” Lloyd lilted lazily, eyes dragging over the file towards the other man. He didn’t need to read the print, he had committed it to memory a long time ago.
“None that should matter to you. I thought you might like to do it yourself. Since you two have…history.”
Huffing he let the file drop onto the desk, the smack reverberated through the office. A devilish, hungry grin spread over Lloyd’s lips. 
“It’ll be my pleasure.”
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Today had felt like an ordinary day to her, but if she knew one thing it was that there were no ordinary days. 
There were quiet days and then there were hectic days. There were days when everything went according to plan and days when everything went wrong. There were days in which she’d been safe and days in which she’d nearly died.
The latter ones were now few and far between. Once it was her day-to-day, her nine-to-five. It was behind her now for most of it.
But as a seasoned agent, she should have known nothing ever truly stayed gone and that especially as someone in the intelligence industry there was no such simple thing as retirement. 
Dying was your retirement.
The house was quiet when she arrived home. Something wasn’t right. It felt deadly quiet, not even the usual noise from the neighbors or cars passing over the street was there. It was too quiet. 
Her days in the field might have laid behind her but her instincts were still as sharp. And so was her habit of still carrying a weapon with her at all times. As silently as she could, she put her purse beside the front door, moving slowly and carefully. Squatting, she drew her gun from inside the bag.
The entryway was clear and so was the office she never used. When she walked through the living room, clearing it as well, gaze moving into the adjacent, open kitchen she froze. Halfway hidden behind the kitchen counter lay a body on the floor. Rosa. Her household help. Face down, in a puddle of her own blood, unmoving. 
Rushing over, there was nothing she still could have done for the nice lady she’d become friends with. She wasn’t long dead, body and blood felt warm.
Then she heard it. A creek. Snapping her head towards the ceiling she listened. When another creek sounded, she bounded to the stairs. Taking two steps at a time she rushed up. 
On the second level, she ignored most of the doors, bypassing clearing each room in favor of getting to the most important of it all. At the far end of the hallway was a cream-colored door, opened just a slit. A soft melody played, faintly echoing through the hallway. She’d closed that door just before she left the house.
The door swung open, barely stopping before it hit the wall as she barged in, gun drawn high. She pointed the barrel at the figure standing on the other side of the room, looming above a baby bed.
“Hands up where I can see them and step the fuck away from the cradle!” Her voice was firm but there was the hint of a shake looming close. 
The figure stayed relaxed, slowly raising his hands. There was a big gun in his right hand, making her grit her teeth as her heart dropped. Hopefully, she wasn’t too late already. Please, don’t let her be too late. Her grip around her gun tightened as the person turned around. 
Shock coursed through her, almost making her forget what was going on. Almost.
“Lloyd.” 
He grinned at her, “Hello Sunshine.”
The pet name rolled off his tongue so smoothly as if not a single day had gone by. It didn’t trick her, it was a farce and so she kept her guard up and the gun centered on his chest. Not that Lloyd could have cared for any of it. That grin, that split his lips and pulled at his mustache mocked her together with the glint in his eyes. The amusement was highly evident on his face.
“You sneaky little thing, aren’t you?” He made a show of trailing his gaze through the room before he continued, “A safe house – that’s not so safe anymore – and a baby?” 
His laugh made her skin crawl. 
“I didn’t peg you for the chick that would let herself get stuck with a brat,” he taunted and she rolled her eyes. “Although I would have enjoyed being the one to fuck one into you.”
“Step away from her,” she demanded, unreactive to his jabs. He wanted to provoke her but she wouldn’t grant him that pleasure. 
Lloyd looked behind him toward the crib in which her baby was peacefully sleeping. “And what if I don’t? You shoot me? Shoot in the direction of your darling?” Her eyes flickered to the crib behind him, just for a moment. Enough to confirm he was right. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t.
“As I thought,” he hummed, slowly putting his hands down. 
She’d just lost her advantage, her threat. The gun in her hands was useless if she couldn’t – wouldn’t – use it to actually shoot him. It was just a show and he could do and please how he wanted without her being able to prevent it.
“I have to give you that: She is cute as a bug.” Her heart nearly gave out as Lloyd turned around again and leaned over the crib. He was reaching down, his fingers running over the baby's smooth dark hair and soft cheek. As his pinky ring graced her cheek, the cold sensation of the metal on her skin made her frown. It caused his lip to quip upward. 
With his other hand – the one holding the large gun – he leaned down too. The nose of the gun softly traced along her little tummy. 
It made her breath hitch, instinctively she took a step forward. A mistake as Lloyd’s head cocked back at her. There was enjoyment glinting in his eyes. He loved games like this, toying with people’s emotions, but most of all with their fear.
“Oh look at you, all momma-bear. Am I driving you crazy with concern huh?” He was having the time of his life.
“What will you do?” he wanted to know, taunting once more, “I could shoot her right now and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.” 
He was right. She wouldn’t be able to cross the room fast enough to prevent him from pulling the trigger or ripping the gun up and away from her child.
“Step away from her,” she demanded, voice shaking with equal amounts of rage and concern. It was an empty demand. What threat did she have against him? What options to stop him? Her words made him laugh.
“Give me one good reason why I should do that instead of pulling my trigger right now?”
“Because she is yours.”
Lloyd raised an eyebrow, beneath his long lashes his eyes dilated in surprise but also in glee. Once more he started laughing. A full belly laugh this time. So much he had to wipe away tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.
“That’s a good one, sunshine.” But she stayed unwaveringly serious. Lloyd eyed that as well. Straightening up he took in the sleeping baby closely.
“Oh, are you serious?” The amusement was still there but now there was a hint of seriousness in his tone as well. 
“Her?” He pointed towards the cradle. “Mine?”
Reluctantly she nodded. There was a brief moment in which Lloyd turned solemnly serious, a moment in which he seemed to contemplate it all. Then his face twisted in rage. In a split second, he lunged at her.
She was slammed to the floor, him above her as her gun skidded over the ground, out of her reach. His hands wrapped around her throat, strong hands unrelenting. The air was pushed out of her lungs as he choked her. Wrapping her hands around his forearms, she tried to stop him but there was no point. He was too strong.
“You little bitch.” Lloyd was seething. Spitting as he looked at her like an animal gone wild. “You are enjoying this aren’t you?”
“Greedy little slut, took everything you could get your hands on, didn’t you? Even a baby!” Her mind was reeling, both from the lack of oxygen and his words. They didn’t make sense. She hadn’t taken anything from him. It wasn’t like she had tried to get him to knock her up and then vanish.
Even with the blood rushing in her ears and the black rims growing at the edges of her vision she couldn’t get his hands off her. But maybe getting his hands off her neck wasn’t what she should focus on. With what quickly draining strength she had still left in her, she started squirming under him. 
She couldn’t die right now. Not like this. There was no way in hell she would leave her daughter to Lloyd’s mercy. 
“You are a twisted, backstabbing–” Mustering enough strength she managed to kick him in the balls, hard enough to sway him for a moment. It was only a short moment but it was enough to kick him off her and send him to the side.
She coughed and wheezed, greedily sucking in as much air as she could. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him sit up, brushing a hand over his mouth. It came away with a streak of blood.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” She wheezed, turning to her side, all the while her eyes roamed through the room, looking for her gun. 
“You were the reason the CIA kicked me out! Not that I would have enjoyed being in that constringent shithole with their stupid rules. I’m much freer where I am now but that doesn’t change the fact you betrayed me!” 
What?
“I didn’t!” She watched him try to stand up and so she swiped her leg out, ripping his feet out from underneath him. He smacked against the floor as she continued, “I didn’t even know you were kicked out! No one would tell me anything about what happened. You were simply gone!”
“Liar,” he roared, looking at her with rage. Seeing his rage was nothing new, but this was the first time it was focused on her.
“I thought you were dead!”, she roared back, “It took me weeks with no success until I found out– … until I found out I was pregnant. Only when I went to Fitzroy did he tell me you got kicked out.”
“Bullshit! Someone ratted me out! Who was it then?”
“Who? I'll tell you who! Your buddy, fucking, Carmichael!” 
There was a fire burning in Lloyds eyes and with newfound vigor, he pushed to his feet. Scrambling, she looked around the room, frantically trying to find her gun. She needed to reach her gun before Lloyd could reach his. 
“He never liked me, Lloyd. He always hated that I was by your side. That ass was always jealous of what we – you – had since college! He couldn’t stand that I was taking you away from him, don’t you understand?!” 
Lloyd had never seen the clear disdain with which Carmichael had regarded her. The poorly hidden hatred and animosity.
She’d stalled him long enough to locate her gun in the room, just as Lloyd had risen to his feet and centered his attention on his gun – much closer than hers. Their eyes crossed as a mutual realization set in. They had the same plan and they both needed to stop the other. There was a second in which neither one of them moved. Then, jumping around she scrambled for her gun. Nearly there, only millimeters from grasping it in her hand, her fingers brushing the cool plastic, a hand wrapped around her ankle. With a violent jerk, she was yanked back. Not without a fight. Her kicking was fruitless, Lloyd’s hand stayed around her foot like a vice. It was to no avail.
He was pulling her back until she lay under him and Lloyd pinned her to the ground with his knees and hands. His gun was pointed at her. The click of the bullet slipping into the barrel had her deflate. 
All the fight rapidly left as she realized: she’d lost.
“Don’t kill her,” she whispered, eyes dimmed in grief. She pleaded with him, “Don’t punish her for what you believe me to have done.” In a violent lurch her face whipped to the side, the sound of his backhanded slap echoing in her ears. The metallic taste of blood spread in her mouth. 
It didn’t stop her from continuing, “Look after her.
At least find her a safe place with a new family if you don’t want her.”
This raging fire kept burning in his eyes as Lloyd centered the barrel of his gun to her forehead. Cold metal touched her skin, creating a burning halo. She wouldn’t close her eyes. No, she chose to keep looking into his, waiting for her inevitable end.
When the trigger got pulled, the shot rang out loudly above her but the bullet never hit. 
No longer was the gun pointed at her but at the door, she’d burst through not long ago. Ripping her eyes away from the gun, she focused back on Lloyd. He was already looking down at her, his jaw clenched and lips pursed.
Behind them – in the cradle – their baby started to wail.
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In his hands, Carmichael held a couple of pictures. A drone shot from a burned-down house. Multiple from the burned-down interior of said house. And one of a corpse burned so badly she was unrecognizable.
The door to his office opened up without premonition.
“Well done.” Putting the pictures down the man with the glasses looked up.
“How did it feel?” “Satisfying,” Lloyd mused, hands loosely clasped behind his back as he whipped on his feet. 
“So the bitch got what she deserved.” Carmichael looked pleased, a sly grin formed on his usually composed and unhappy-looking face. “You know I never trusted her. Always knew there was something off with her.”
“She was a rotten apple from the beginning.” “Was she?” Lloyd asked with ease. “Why’d you never say something then?”
“I wanted you to have your fun with her. I thought that’s all she was to you anyway.” 
Nodding Lloyd hummed, “She was a pretty good fuck.” 
In the end, Carmichael stood up, walking towards a sideboard with glasses and a bottle of expensive alcohol. “Let’s drink to that.” He poured some into the two glasses, the trickle of the liquid sloshing the only sound.
“A toast,” he said, turning around with the two glasses in his hand. One held out towards Lloyd, the other comfortably nestled in his own. “To the two of us. That no woman will ever be worthy to come between us.” 
Lloyd was now directly in front of him. Before he could register the thing shoved against his chest, the muffled sound of a shot rang out. The glasses toppled from his hands, their golden liquid soaked the carpet beneath his feet. He could only glance at the gun between them in shock. The gun Lloyd had aimed and fired at his chest. 
“The bitch is indeed getting what he deserves.”
Lloyd’s mustache quirked up, revealing the grin on his lips as Carmichael stumbled and slid down the sideboard. Sitting before him, the man's blood mixed with the carpet.
“You should have never come between me and her.” It was the last thing Lloyd whispered, watching as the light left the man's eyes.
Picking up one of the two glasses, Lloyd eyed the remains of the liquid in the crystal clear cup. He downed it in one swift gulp. 
“Happy Father’s Day to me.”
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Outside the office, Carmichael’s men lay slumped over. Dead too. Lloyd stepped over them, wasting no glance back as he walked on. 
Behind the corner at the end of the hallway, a figure awaited. Fitzroy. The older man had his hands shoved into his pockets as he watched him approach. Both men looked at one another, unable to stand their opposite but still working together. An Exception.
“You better treat her right,” Fitzroy was serious, looking down on him with disdain. “Or I’ll come to get her and my granddaughter and you’ll be dead.”
The words didn’t impress Lloyd. It was a real threat. Fitzroy still had his trumps and his ways to win over Lloyd. 
Yet he calmly and dryly answered, “She isn’t your granddaughter.”
“No, but she is as good as.
I was the only one there for them, during the pregnancy and when she gave birth to that sweet little angel.”
It was a carefully calculated attack, the words meant to cut deep. Lloyd didn’t say anything to that. He walked past the man without another word. Outside a car waited for him already, driving away the moment he sat inside.
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High-pitched coos and unintelligible babbling littered the air as she held her daughter in her arms softly swaying her from side to side. Her heart fluttered as she took in the chubby cheeks and long lashes. 
“We still have to get used to our new home, don’t we?” She mumbled against the soft tuft of hair dusted along her daughter’s head. Her little head couldn’t stop turning around, not nearly fast enough to follow her curious eyes. 
“It’s so big.” Her little one cooed in agreement, even though she likely couldn’t understand her yet. Taking in the huge room they were in, big still felt like an understatement. The improvised baby room looked anything but suited for a baby. The luxurious theme felt overpowering, just like the rest of the castle did. Adjusting from a comfortable little two-story house to a castle with rooms in the hundreds would take time.
“Who would have thought your dad would show up to join your life.”
There was still a part of her that didn’t want to believe it and a part of her that mistrusted Lloyd. Her lip and back still ached from the fight, the memories of him pointing his gun not only at her but at the baby and threatening to shoot fresh in her mind. Too fresh perhaps.
Lloyd had changed from wanting to kill her to wanting to protect her and their daughter in less than a minute. A split-second decision that otherwise would have found her with a bullet in the head and her daughter orphaned.
A noise from the outside alerted her. It drew her to the big window so they could watch what was happening outside. Together they eyed the black SUV drive over the gravel of the huge driveway, fast approaching the house. When the car stopped just before the entrance and Lloyd stepped out of the car, she sighed.
“Speaking of the devil,” muttering to her daughter, she pressed a kiss against her head. The baby coed once more and babbled happily in her arms. Clumsy little fingers gripped her sleeve.
“Sunshine! I’m back!”
Not a moment later Lloyd’s loud voice boomed through the house. One might think that with its size his voice would get drowned out. It didn’t take him long to reach the room and push the door open. Once his eyes settled on the two of them, still close to the window a grin appeared on his face.
“There they are!” Striding over he stopped shortly in front of them as his eyes settled on the toddler. 
“Bug.” She rolled her eyes at his newly proclaimed nickname for his daughter. Her eyes followed his hands, reaching out and demanding to hold the baby. For a moment she hesitated to pass her over. Lloyd’s eyes jumped to her, narrowing slightly but ultimately he dropped his hands to his side.
Not for long. Just as quickly as he had folded his hands found her waist. Rather forcefully she was turned around, gazing back out of the window.
“You’ll start to trust me again.” His voice murmured into her ear as Lloyd settled behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist. Her back was pressed against his front. Resting his chin against her shoulder, he nosed along her neck, whispering more words into her ear.
“And maybe by the next Father’s Day, I’ve fucked another one into you already.”
She scoffed, lips twitching upward in a smile as she glanced back at him, “In your dreams. How about you learn to handle your existing daughter first. She’s already got your temper when she is tired and cranky, by that time next year she’ll likely have reached the terrible twos.”
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BONUS:
“If I find out you lied to me,” Lloyd threatened as he stood up, still looking down at her. He nodded towards his gun.
“Why would I?” Scoffing, she too slowly sat up and wiped away the blood from her mouth. “I would have never betrayed you, I loved you.”
Something in the way he laughed so dryly deeply hurt her. Her eyes were turned downwards as she got up. When she stood in front of him, face to face, her expression remained unchanged and just as solemn.
“You are serious?”
“Is it so hard to believe? My future was yours.”
She was about to breeze past him and towards the cradle, towards her crying daughter when he stopped her. His hand wrapped around her biceps.
“Looks like you are getting what you wanted in the end,” he rumbled into her ear. Then he dropped his hand. “Calm her down, take whatever you need for her, and be done with it in five minutes.” 
He didn’t leave the room while she did so, hovering beside the door with his arms crossed, holding onto the gun as he watched.
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imyourbratzdoll · 8 months
Note
What about stepdaughter reader who isnt innocent and likes getting fucked by step daddy lloyd even both doing it in hopes to get caught so she has lloyd to herself
hey honey! I'm sorry for taking so long, but I hope you like it! I added a little twist at the end.
summary - you have been sleeping with your stepfather, and someone happens to catch you.
warning - smut, voyeurism, creampie, cheating, masturbating, semi-public sex, squirting.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips
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“Fuck, you’re such a fucking slut.” Lloyd growls, slamming into you from behind. His hands grip your hips tightly, grunting at how tight you feel wrapped around his cock. “Not so fucking innocent, huh? You just love being fucked by your stepdad.” You grip the edge of the pool, water splashing with every thrust. Lloyd’s hand wraps around your throat, bending you backwards until your back arches. “You just had to tease me in the pool, didn’t you? You don’t even care that your mother is in the kitchen.” 
Your cunt clenches at his words, and the thought of finally getting caught turns you on to no end. You had been sneaking around with your stepfather for a while now and wanted your mum out of the picture. “Daddy! It feels so good! I’m your slut!” You rest your head on his shoulder as he pounds into you, splitting you from the inside and causing your walls to spasm. You push back into him, grinding your arse against his thrusts. “You fuck me so good, Daddy. Better than anyone else.” You moan a little too loudly, but you don’t care. Too lost in pleasure to notice your neighbour Mr Levinson watching from his backyard, gripping his hardened member and slowly stroking it up and down to your moans and the sight of you getting fucked by your stepdad.
Lloyd grunts, picking up his pace. “I better be the only one your fucking.” He buries himself deep into you. His hand moves to the front of you and begins to rub your swollen clit, loving how you squeeze him. “You better cum around me, sunshine. Let your mum and the neighbours hear how hot you sound at getting fucked.” He fucks you harder and faster, feeling his balls tighten and his cock twitch as his end approaches, but he holds back, wanting you to cum first. 
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Daddyyyyy!” You scream, throwing your head back as your walls clench and unclench around him, squirting around his thick member and into the pool. Your head falls forward, resting against the edge of the pool as Lloyd continues to fuck into you until he grunts and cums deep into you, burying into you until his cum leaks out. 
“Fuck, sunshine. I hope you get fucking pregnant after this. I want everyone to know that I own you.” He presses a kiss to the back of your head, slowly pulling out of your tight cunt and tucking himself back into his trunks. 
You spin around and press a soft kiss to his lips. The two of you don’t notice your mum watching you through the window, a saddened but not shocked look on her face. Lloyd wraps your legs around his waist, holds onto you, caresses your cheek, and looks into your eyes lovingly. “I love you, my little sunshine.”
“I love you too, Daddy.”
Ari grins darkly, his cum painted on the fence as he tucks his softened cock back into his jeans. He finally has something to use against the two of you to get what he wants. Maybe he and Lloyd can come to an agreement, perhaps even share you for when the two of them need a release. 
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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babyjakes · 3 months
Text
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did something bad.
〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
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event | kinkmas 2023
prompts | interrogation + weapon play
pairing | soft!daddy!lloyd hansen x little!reader
warnings | ddlg dynamic. lloyd is soft and a little dark; dub-con to be safe (reader is scared but knows she's safe.) restraints. reader gets fucked with lloyd's unloaded gun as a punishment (+ me knowing nothing about guns.) crying kink. dumbification. mocking/degredation. name-calling (reader is called a slut once.) orgasm delay. softer nicer lloyd at the end. reader gets to come.
word count | 1,333
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an | this one's dedicated to the sweetest, most wonderful angel in the whole entire world, lloyd's precious girl amalia @stargirlfics 💕🫶✨ hope you like this little story with a soft dark-ish lloyd, i think you replied to that one post a while back where i dreamt of lloyd + gun fucking with a rather unhinged ending, this is to hopefully make up for that!! happy holidays to you sweet friend, hope you're staying safe and warm!
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Writhing as your back arched up off of the smooth wooden surface you were bound to, your weak whimpers were sweet music to your daddy's ears. The mustached man stood just off to the side of the desk, finishing up as he wiped the shiny barrel of his favorite revolver clean. "D-Daddy, please! I'm sorry- I'll never do it again," you implored, but Lloyd only chuckled cruelly at your desperate promises, shaking his head.
"Too late, princess. You know Daddy loves to hear you beg, but none of those pretty pleas are gonna work for you this time." He stepped forward to stand at your side, a firm hand reaching down to grope at your tit. It had been a while since he had last stripped you naked and tied you down on his desk; hoping to prolong your anxious waiting, he took a moment to admire his knotwork work. "So cute when you're all tied up like this, kitten. Maybe you need to break the big rules more often."
You struggled uselessly as your nipple was twisted and tugged at, tears stinging in your eyes as your daddy leaned down slightly to croon at you, "Poor baby, look at those big, frightened eyes. You gonna cry for me already, sweetheart? I haven't even started yet." Placing the dreaded weapon he was wielding down near your waist, he used his now free hand to trail down, feeling at your parted slit gently. "Oh my," his voice dropped lower as his fingers were quickly covered in your sticky slick, "looks like someone's getting excited. Is that out of fear, little one? Or is that poor little baby brain of yours getting turned on by Daddy punishing you like this?"
Hot tears of humiliation rolled down your cheeks as you glared up at the towering man. "Aww, don't go all pouty on me," he laughed lightly at the precious face you were making. "If you're good and tell me what I want to know, I promise I'll make sure you like this."
All you could do was watch with frightened eyes as the tall man got to prepping his instrument of choice for your punishment. Retrieving a small bottle of lube from one of his desk drawers, he coated the barrel of the handgun generously, making sure the long pipe of metal would slide in without issue. While the use of the device was meant to teach you a lesson, its goal was to deal you an emotional punishment, not a physical one. The gun was unloaded in front of you beforehand, and the sights were removed to prevent any catching or discomfort. More than anything, it was merely the concept of being fucked with the gun that you found so horrific.
"You're gonna look so pretty all stretched out on this," Lloyd marveled as he held up the weapon to show you before bringing it down to press its opening up against yours. The man grinned in delight as you kicked and fought helplessly against the ropes holding your legs apart, savoring the way your little voice sounded when you were all needy and scared like this.
"Please, p-please Daddy!" you cried, your tears worsening as you felt the cool metal gliding up inside you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you gave in and quit squirming as the revolver was inserted to its handle, twisting and turning cruelly within you as your daddy took his time and played.
"There," he hummed in satisfaction when he finally settled on a position, keeping the hilt sticking upward as he gently began pumping the slippery barrel in and out of your poor little pussy. It was nothing short of sinful, the way you immediately began moaning softly, the queasy fear in your tummy quickly shifting to unapologetic lust as your hips started bucking up to meet your daddy's efforts.
"Such a greedy little slut," Lloyd chuckled as he watched you ramming yourself right up onto the dripping weapon. "Look at you, getting so horny for Daddy's gun. That's it, princess. Keep fucking yourself on it, just like that." He helped you along by returning his free hand to your hardened nipples, pinching and pulling at the poor knots of flesh as burning tingles fanned out across your entire body.
"Daddy, D-Daddy-" you mumbled weakly, your eyes half-closed in bliss as the smooth tip of the revolver bumped right up against your tender ceiling. "Please, d-don't stop... gonna, g-gonna..." Maybe it was the sheer depravity of the situation, or maybe it was Lloyd's skillful fingers working your oversensitive nipples, but something was helping you along to a rather early high as you lay there panting on the desk. Seeing the way your body was starting to give its usual signs of approaching orgasm, your daddy slowed the pace of the gun inside you as he brought his other hand up to cup your cheek.
"Now baby," he tsked, rubbing his thumb tenderly over your tear-stained cheek as you looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes.
"Daddy, p-please! Need, n-need-... nnn..."
"Shhhh," Lloyd cooed, bringing his thumb to rest firmly over your salty lips as a signal to be quiet and listen. "Daddy knows, kitten. Know how bad you need to come," he nodded understandingly, the concern and mock sympathy on his face only causing your tears to worsen, as you knew the ways of his cruel acts and games. "But you're forgetting something, sweet girl- something very important. Remember that Daddy had a question for you?" Sobbing lightly against your daddy's thumb, you nodded weakly. "That's right, baby. Daddy needs to know what you were doing in the armory, right? Because weren't you found in there by one of his guards, up way past your bedtime?"
He let you nod, giving you a soft hum of approval as the gun was pumped at a torturously slow pace, in and out of your quivering cunt. "Now I'm gonna take my hand away, and I want you to answer. Do you understand, little one?"
Batting your eyelashes, you nodded as obediently as you could, earning a slight nod from the man as he did as he promised and released your face, allowing your lips to finally open. "W-was lookin' for a knife, Daddy. One of those shiny ones, with the fancy blades."
Lloyd considered your answer, quirking an eyebrow as he bumped his pace up with the revolver just a hair. "A knife? Now what on earth would you need a knife for, my little princess? Those are very dangerous; you know Daddy doesn't let you touch knives, not even the ones in the kitchen."
"Just wanted to play with one," you mumbled honestly, fearing how lame your answer might come across. "Saw a super spy on TV, she had a cool-lookin' one. Wanted to dress up and play around the castle." Lloyd couldn't help but melt a bit at your answer. Of all the things he thought you might be doing in there, finding a prop for a play-pretend game certainly made sense for your harmless, innocent nature.
"A super spy, huh?" he nodded, finally working back up to his original speed as he resumed fucking you generously with the weapon in his hand. "I see. Thank you for telling me the truth, sweetheart. No big girl knives for you, but we can find you a fake one to play with. Deal?"
"D-deal," your voice was shaky as your punishment seemed to come to its close. You had been so good, taken everything without too much of a struggle, and now it was time for your daddy to reward you. "D-Daddy," you hiccuped as the pressure in your tummy began quickly building up again, but Lloyd was already one step ahead of you.
"Go ahead, princess. You can come; you earned it," he cooed lovingly as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, cradling the back of your neck with his free hand as you finally found your release.
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dungeonpuppykai · 9 months
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for the 5 daddies, i have this hc that whenever bunnys like upset or scared or anything she for sure seeks out Andy for comfort bc he's more scary but like he def makes her feel the safest and she 100% loves a firm hand
Sorry for being so late but--
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Warning(s): Slightly upset reader,  mentions of bondage, mentions of rough sex, dom-sub dynamics, thunder, fluff, power imbalance, one spank. 
Since Lloyd is the darkest Daddy who wants to see how far he can push and bend Bunny it's playtimes with him that usually end her up in this state.
Of course he always gives the best aftercare he can but his top secret much demanding work allows him a very limited and calculated amount of free time. 
So sometimes Bunny, as sensitive as she is, needs a little more.
Like tonight.
Her eyes are teary as the thunder rumbles outside the big glass window that is on the wall next to the big dark door of Andy's room.
Bunny's hand hovers over the wooden structure as she contemplates whether to knock or leave him alone because he already works so hard all day long. 
It wasn't even his aftercare to give. 
But it's like Andy has a way of sensing her discomfort.
He always seeks her out whenever she's upset. 
Maybe because of how quiet and observant he is. 
Before she can retreat her hand even though he's told her time and time again that it doesn't bother him, the door unlocks.
Her eyes widen as she looks left and right to hide because she doesn't wanna look like a creep! 
Bunny's eyes narrow down on the decorative lamp table placed on the opposite side of the window that is on the other side of his door.
Her naked feet hurriedly pat against the wooden floorboards as she rushes away and hides behind it. 
Andy walks out of the room and down the hall with his eyes set on his phone. 
Bunny sighs to herself as her body relaxes, eyes fluttering close as she wills her hammering heart to slow down. 
A few moments pass like that as she just watches the way he left and contemplates what to do next.
Andy made her feel the safest but he was still his intimidating strict self and naturally it made her very shy towards him. 
"Hide and seek?" Bunny gasped and jumped when his voice rumbled in her ear from behind.
"Daddy!" The girl defensively backs away from Andy's huge form as he smiles at her kneeling form on the ground. Like a rabbit ready to hop away. "Y- You!" She whips her head back to the way he left, momentarily forgetting that there was another way to get around the side of the hallway she was in. 
"Me…" The male is amused, both hands stuffed in his pockets. 
Bunny is still blinking at him and overcoming her shock when thunder strikes again and her whole body jumps, the tears that had been pooling in her eyes finally spilling. 
His smile fades away and concern replaces the amused expression. 
"Here" he holds out one hand for her to take and the younger literally jumps at it. 
"You should have just entered, no questions asked." Rules were for when she wasn't on the point of sobbing.
Her tiny hiccups had been audible from down the hall.
Bunny's peeks up at him through her wet lashes, bottom lip wobbling. 
"I- I am sowwy, Daddy…" He knows how hesitant and guilty she feels whenever she seeks him out because of another Daddy so he doesn't antagonize her too much. 
Instead, Andy envelops Bunny in his huge arms and kisses her forehead before taking her inside his room.
He makes her drink water as he leans against the headboard with her curled in his lap, caressing her back and scratching her scalp comfortingly to help her calm down. 
Andy softly reprimands her for walking around barefooted in this weather.
Bunny whimpers and rubs her face in his warm chest.
He holds her like that until she fully calms down and all her tense muscles loosen up in his arms, kissing her head and assuring her that it was all okay whenever thunder would strike.
Andy doesn't really carry her around like Jake, Ransom and Ari do but tonight is different.
These moments always are.
He knows he's walking on eggshells so he's extra careful with her. 
So he makes Bunny wrap her legs around his waist as he holds her up and against his chest like the spoiled baby bunny that she is. 
"What do you want?" As he carries her to the kitchen. 
"Ishe keam~" her very eager answer has him frowning. 
Yes, she lisps in her soft space sometimes. 
And it drives Lloyd and Jensen absolutely insane.
With Ransom it depends on how dark he's feeling. 
Ari just adores her no matter what she does.
But it's rare with Andy because of the strict discipline Dom that he is. 
"In this weather?" He doesn't need to add more to express his disapproval.
It's her turn to frown now.
"But my mouth!" 
Lloyd had been rough with the face fucking. 
"Your feet feel as if they're tiny little ice cubes." He replies as he grabs a pair of warm socks from her purple dresser in her Princess Bunny room. 
"Daddy can't say no!" Bunny huffs before pouting, thinking it would work like it does with Ransom, Jensen and sometimes Ari. 
"Bunny." Usually, Andy doesn't even warn but he does tonight because of her state.
"Bunny is ouchie!" Her eyebrows furrow as she raises her voice an octave. "Daddy can't say no!" 
He silently snorts to himself before looking down at her with a very familiar look, faintly raising an eyebrow. 
"But sir can." 
The tone and slight stiffness in his grip on her slightly sore ass -courtesy of Daddy Ransom- has her piping down almost instantly.
Andy is content in the peaceful silence as he expertly holds Bunny against him with one hand while the other starts up on the coffee machine for him and a warm cup of hot coco for her. 
Bunny whimpers with the thunder every now and then, hiding her flush face in the crook of his neck. 
She's whiny and clingy when he wants to put her on the counter so he can put her little socks on her icy feet. 
But she refuses to let go, pouting and tightening herself around him. 
It goes on for a bit before Andy firmly peels her off and places her on the counter, giving her a sharp look.
Bunny is whimpering again with her eyes lowered when he makes her wear the socks herself since whiny brats don't deserve Daddies that help them out with simple tasks that they're too dumb to do. 
But a loud spank delivers on her unsuspecting ass when Andy turns from the coffee machine to check on the stove and finds out that Bunny has crawled dangerously close to the bubbling hot coco pot, bending over it as she blows and giggles at the brown liquid. 
It ends with her getting corner time until he gets done with their drinks.
Andy makes her carry the drinks to his room so she stays reminded of her place. 
Yes, he loves to comfort her and would do anything to make her feel safe and protected. 
But that doesn't mean he will put up with a mouthy pouty brat. 
It is only after Bunny apologises once they're in the room that he allows her back in his arms, putting on a show they enjoy together. 
One of his hands is constantly caressing her back so she continues to remain relaxed.
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boxofbonesfic · 10 months
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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​
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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. ❤️
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stargirlfics · 2 years
Text
Pretty When You Cry
Lloyd Hansen x Black Reader
Summary: He’s sick, he’s mean, he’s cruel and he’s all yours too
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, daddy kink, degradation and mocking, lloyd is a bit mean in this, smut: doggystyle, rough sex, fishhooking, dacryphilia, dirty talk, use of “daddy”, brief creampie mention, general filthiness
Word Count: 1.7k
Note: Dedicated to @hansensgirl!!! A bit of a belated birthday gift for you Sab angel! Your works and love for Lloyd helped inspire me to write this so thank you! Lub you! 🖤
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Lloyd Hansen had you wrapped around his pinkie a little more than you wanted to admit but god did you love it. 
He was a bad man, as sick and twisted as they come and none of his mean nature was tempered for you, especially not when he knew just how wet you got for his harsh hands and even harsher tongue.
Your body yielded to him so much faster now than it did at the start when you held more annoyance and contempt towards him than the molten desire causing the slick between your thighs now. The best part was that you were his, his pretty little star. 
It’s precisely what he loved about you, that despite the bambi eyes and tear stained cheeks, you wanted him, craved him, by all accounts needed him. 
That’s how your current circumstances came to be; your face flush against the silky gray sheets, your ass high in the air, and Lloyd thrusting into you from behind. There was no mistaking your high whines and moans, how they all sounded like incoherent babbles but Lloyd knew you best, good enough to make out the pleas for more, for “harder” and “please” and his personal favorite…”daddy” amongst the tangle of sounds.
“Ah, but I’m already in your tummy, sunshine. I don’t know if you can take my hardest, I don’t think you’re up to it.” 
It was precisely his mocking that got you here in the first place.
Earlier, the pout on your face when Lloyd had teased you about being “such a goddamn slut” for when he was being mean, effectively calling you out and making your cheeks burn. You refused to admit he was right, denying his accusation up and down. 
Oh, how you should have known it would only fuel his antics. The devilish smirk that graced his features as he chuckled and steadily backed you into a corner made the heat swirl in your core, protests to his continued teasing harder to come up with. 
“Don’t lie to me, sweetheart, I don’t like little girls who lie.” 
You tried so very hard to stop the needy whimper from tumbling past your lips but he heard it, Lloyd never missed a thing and you realized you had nowhere to run, your back pressed uncomfortably against the wall and his broad shoulders the only thing you could see in front of you. 
It made you feel so helpless, heat prickling your thighs at the anticipation of it all. How easy it was for him to bring it out in you, the itch that made you so desperate for him and whatever he was gracious enough to give you. 
In the end, you always let him pull you under, always surrendering to the fact that yes, your man, sick and cruel and mean, knew best. 
“N-no, please, daddy. I can take it, I can! Please give me more,” you whined, turning your head a little more to look back at him. 
It was a sight that made you flutter around him, Lloyd and his toned arms on display. His forearms tense with the way he held onto your hips firm enough to hurt just the way you liked. 
But just to toy with you, he slowed his pace down, still pushing in deep to nudge against the deepest parts of you only agonizingly slow, pinching your skin when you start to push back against him. 
“Those are big words for you, cupcake. Does your stupid little slut brain really understand what you’re asking for?” his grip loosened from your hip to slide up your back, finding its place at the back of your neck where he tugged you up onto your hands. 
You whined at his words, your center pulsing at the way he dumbed you down, how easy it was for him and then you, left scrambling to answer, trying to think while every thick inch of him was buried inside you. 
All you managed to get out were breathy pleases, your brain cloudy with utter need, all your energy spent trying to keep from fucking yourself back on his length.
Lloyd’s dark, amused chuckle made your spine tingle, “Oh, I love it when you get this desperate to be fucked, it’s so cute seeing you forget that your pussy just can’t handle that. But if that’s what you want so bad…”
There were all but a few seconds to register his words before he was pulling back and pushing back in roughly, your back arching with the force, hands fisting the sheets below you. 
He felt incredible, every thrust sent searing heat throughout your body, your limbs turning boneless by the second as he handled you how he wanted, pounding into your pussy at that angle that made you breathless and pliant to his whim. 
“Oh my god, thank you, daddy, thank you,” your moans collided with the harsh slap of his hips meeting your ass. 
“And she still knows her manners, I trained you well, huh? Good girl.” Lloyd’s voice startled you now that it was at the shell of your ear, his pace unwavering even as he was leaning over you now.
The reward for your good manners had you reeling, two of his skilled fingers hooked against the inside of your cheek, pulling your head to the side so you could watch how he was taking you apart, your position from head to toe, exactly where he wanted it to be. 
It was exactly what you had wanted, filled up, fucked rough, made to cum as many times as Lloyd wanted or allowed, a complete mess by the end of it all. 
Your moans only seemed to climb higher, tears starting to well under your fluttering lashes at the flood of pleasure, almost too much, almost bordering on the edge of pain. The fact that your arms had finally given out underneath you wasn’t the least bit an issue for Lloyd, his free hand returning to grip the back of your neck, keeping you upright, using the hold as leverage to rut into you just a little harder. 
“Mm, that’s it, there she is,” he grunted lowly when he felt your body sink into his grip, impressed with how well you were doing so far but not mistaking the signs of your exhaustion and impending climax.
He knew your body like the back of his hand, always paying special attention to all those little details, the shifts in your breathing, the pitch to your moans that always told him when you were getting close, the tension in your limbs, and most importantly, the look in your eyes the longer he pounded into your soaked hole. 
How doe-like they were, especially when the tears started, exactly as they were now. 
“Fuck! It’s t-too much, daddy, oh god,” you brokenly sob out against his fingers still in your mouth, the words thick, slow as they make their way out. 
Lloyd tsks at you, forcing your body back, bottoming out deep with every thrust. 
“Aww poor thing. But that’s what you wanted isn’t it, sunshine, wanted daddy to fuck your guts out, right? Are you asking me to stop?” his tone was as condescendingly sweet as it gets, his words making your vision a touch bleary with unshed tears. 
If he stopped right now it would shatter you, that much you were sure of. There was nothing more you wanted than for him to keep going because that perfect release was almost within reach.
“No, no please don’t stop! Just feels so good, I-” whatever words you were going to say died in your throat once Lloyd propped a foot up on the bed, the new angle allowing him more leverage, and your back deepened to an even meaner arch. 
Obscene moans and whines turned into near screams as he fucked you good, his thrusts controlled and steady, keeping himself deep with every drag against your walls, cursing under his breath at how you clenched around him, how drippy and soft your walls felt, and the sight of you too, your puffy lips swallowing his length again and again. It made him throb. 
The white hot edges of your orgasm began to creep up your spine, the tears welled in your eyes now fallen past your lashes, streaked across your cheeks that were smeared with your spit as Lloyd took his fingers from your mouth to snake around your front, finding your sensitive clit with ease. 
“Fuckin look at you, such a mess, so goddamn pretty crying on my dick. That’s my girl.” 
You couldn’t turn your eyes away from him as hard as maintaining eye contact was, you knew how much he liked seeing you this wrecked for him and the intensity of his gaze, of his body language was what kept you focused, a lifeline as you began to fall apart around him. 
“Daddy!” you sobbed, and more tears cascade down your cheeks, dripping onto the sheets below you. 
Sharp gasps filled in the gaps of your loud cries as you felt his heavy balls slap against your core, his fingers still rubbing your clit, the combination making you shudder and squirm. 
“I know, sweetheart. I can feel you coming, yeah that’s it, cry harder,” Lloyd encouraged you, cooing in your ear, that mean edge still in his voice, the very thing that made you obey, more sobs leeched from you as you creamed on his length. 
You were shaky and fucked out of your mind by the time your orgasm subsided but that didn’t mean any of this was over, no by all means it had just begun, his pace slowing for a moment as he decided what position to place you in next. 
It was both a blessing and a curse to be with a man who had such stamina and control, that was meticulous and insane enough to spend hours teasing you, fucking you senseless, pumped full of his cum and your limbs sore and screaming by the time he decided you had enough. 
Who could blame him though? You were just so utterly gorgeous when he made a mess of you and it only made him hard to see you crying those pretty little tears.  
You craved him, wanted him to surround you, crawl into your skin and never leave, fill you full of pleasure every hour of the day, even when he was being the cruel man he was through and through. 
Lloyd Hansen was a bad man, the kind of bad that made for a deliciously sadistic lover, all yours to have, and as long as that was so, you’d shed all your tears for him.
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A/N: I want him to do so many terrible things to me it’s not even funny, like if he’s so bad why is he so hot?! I hope this was a good read and hope that the way I wrote him feels and sounds like him! 
Thanks for reading and please reblog and comment, I wanna hear what you thought! 
Some tags: @jannqt @ozarkthedog @maroonsunrise83 @onsunnyside @sweetlilbambi @afriendlyblackhottie @honeystevie @comfortcap​ @geniedetails​ @superhoeva​ @evanstache​ @falconssweetgirl @squidlywiddly87
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