#Lloyd has a body count

[ninjago-x-lmk]

Just a quick little non-related lore purpose but.

Lloyd revived Iron Baron to kill him and placed his skull in his section of the Ninjago Museum of History.

Though that’s the explanation they gave for the random skull, some say it’s just a sculpture he made when he was in Darkley’s

It’s still unknown if the skull is real or not, frankly Lloyd refused to tell and osteologists were too afraid to even research because of him.

[b0ther]

ain't even jealousy

you fucking hate the basketball team, but there's no one you hate more than aomine.

pairing : aomine daiki x reader (feminine pronouns. afab) rating : explicit, not safe for work (sexual content) type : chaptered tags : aomine is a bully im not even kidding he is quite cruel, porn with PLOT, reader is besties with satsuki, reader also has a crush on imayoshi, reader also was wakamatsu's ex, hate sex, semi-public sex, manhandling, vaginal penetration, thigh fucking, semi-clothed sex, some slutshaming going on here, reader has big tits, slight dubcon. word count : 4,323

author's note : title from 'want u back' by cher lloyd. this is comissioned by a dear friend. hope you enjoy mwah. this first chapter (and whole fic im ngl) is centered around the onsen episode.

( masterlist │ ask/request │ ao3 )

After a long and hard day at school, all that you ever really want to do is to quickly get to your part-time job and finish up your shift. Perhaps you can get some convenient store food after that, or go straight home to shower and rest.

Whatever it is that you daydreamed of, it wasn't this.

Satsuki calls out to you, her voice soft against the bristling wind with her lithe arms circle around yours as you try to walk away, dragging her body forcefully with you. She whines your name over and over again, over the beating speaker against your ears before you finally had enough, ripping your headphones off your head, turning to face her.

“Satsuki!” You try to sound stern, but you end up whining in the same tone that she used. You can only be so serious as a high school girl, after all.

Her pink strands fall against her face messily; you use your other hand to tuck them behind her ear as she elongates the way she enunciates your name and begs, begs, begs you to listen to her. “Please! Just—”

“Satsuki!” You groan, shaking her off your body. “I’m busy. I have a part-time job, I’m failing maths, I have club activities. I can’t just… ditch everything and go !”

“You can!” It’s like she was not listening to a single word that you uttered. “It’s a month away and on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday—which you can begin asking for a leave day starting today , they will definitely let you if you do it a month in advance!—and maths!? That’s easy! I’ll teach you!”

You slant your eyes at her, arms crossing on your chest. “Alright. What about my club activities?”

“You mean your journalist club? One that encourages their members to leave their comfort zone in order to bring back interesting stories? One that basically has a crush on the basketball team?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, don’t be dramatic.”

She gasps. “Don’t you love me!?”

“Don’t do this to me…”

“If you love me at all, you wouldn’t even think twice about going with me. Imagine me, a girl, going alone on an all-boys’ trip to some secluded place—”

“You’re being dramatic—” You tried reiterating your point.

“I’m not!” She whines, even louder this time, attracting attention from all the other Touou students around you. “You literally have nothing to lose by coming along! Give me five reasons—five good reasons—and I will literally stop bothering you.”

You shake her off again, and this time, Satsuki lets go and stumbles back a couple of steps as the mischief on her eye continues to shimmer. You have never lost an argument to Satsuki—but there is a first for everything, and you have a feeling that you are going to break some personal records today.

“First,” you take a deep breath as you hold up a finger. “Aomine’s gonna be there—”

“Perfect!” Not giving you a chance to speak, she cuts you off, eyes glimmering like starlight. “You like him!”

She strikes a nerve with this one.

One of your eyes twitches as you cross your arms under your chest. The excited smile on her face fades in an instant, recognizing in an instant that something is wrong.

Recognizing in an instant that something she should have known about is wrong.

She blinks a couple of times, trying to use all that intelligence in her head to analyse the error in what she said (which turns out pretty useless—guess all that she is good for is basketball).

“Have you been paying attention at all?” You begin to blabber after letting out a huge gasp, arms waving around in the air. “We’ve been friends for years— years ! Since the first year of middle school, and you know nothing of  my strong, burning opinion of Aomine!? Flash news, Satsuki, it’s not love!”

“You—” She stammers, “You talk about him a lot!”

“I complain about him a lot!” You correct her, blowing out air in frustration, feeling somewhat betrayed that your best friend had just accused you of liking your archnemesis… your enemy… your… your rival.

The point is! You hate him!

You would rather live in a world without television and the internet and good music if it means that you will have to never hear him say another word.

Aomine.

You shiver in annoyance.

Just saying his name irks the hell out of you. Imagining his face causes a feeling close to that of an explosion in your chest. You just wanna grab him by his face and shove him down a flight of stairs.

You cannot even count all the shitty things he did to you in high school: revealing your crush on Nijimura Shuuzou not just to the then-basketball team captain, but the entire student body; tripping you in the cafeteria multiple times; stealing your undergarments during P.E. and commenting crassly about how you were two sizes under his favourite adult model. Granted, you never told Satsuki about the last thing. That shit was just too embarrassing—you were glad that no one else was in the room when he threw your bra back at you.

Still, your frustration remains at her. Jogging down memory lane boils your wrath, and you close your eyes to calm yourself down.

He’s just a bully.

A damned bully.

And you would be damned if you are going to willingly spend your weekends in the same vicinity as him.

“Well… Dai-chan likes you!”

You roll your eyes.

Yeah, right.

You would agree if she had claimed that he found you attractive, or he thinks you’re hot. But liking you? Highly improbable—impossible, even.

Aomine Daiki does not seem like he is capable of feeling any emotion aside from boredom and mischief. The only thing he loves, or even likes, is probably his beloved Aya-chan from his gravure magazines.

You’re not even sure if he still likes basketball.

Which is a shame—seeing someone so tall gradually shrinking to the size of nothing, even if you despise the guy, the whole ordeal with whatever-the-fuck Satsuki’s basketball team went through still managed to extract some sympathy from the bottom of your heart. You’ve been paying attention to Aomine, after all, albeit not under any positive light.

“Whatever,” from past experiences, you know better than to argue against Satsuki. “I don’t care anymore. And you know what? Aomine himself and your blatant disregard of your best friend’s feelings—me!—should be enough to fit all five criterias!”

You know that look in her eyes, the way her lips press against each other and how one of her hands is clenched into a fist. 

“I’ve been friends with him for 16 years, (Y/N),” she bumps her fist against her chest in pride. “Best friends, even! I know him better than you do!”

You scoff. “People who like someone don’t bully them, Satsuki. Open your eyes.”

“He isn’t bullying you!” She groans.

“Oh, so now not only are you attempting to kidnap me, but you’re also defending my bully?”

“Argh!” Satsuki hugs your arm again, earning her a groan from you. She calls out your name again, enunciating each and every syllable. “ Pleeeaaaaseeee? You don’t have to pay a single dime! You don’t even have to see Dai-chan if you want to. Imayoshi-san will be there—you like him, right?”

You slant your eyes at her in suspicion, not buying anything she just told you. You just know that you will have to see Aomine sooner or later if you come with her to the onsen. 

“No man is ever worth that much headache, Satsuki.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, still shaking you ferociously. “But it’s Imayoshi-san!”

You decided to come along. Because of course you did.

It’s either that, or Satsuki pestering you for the rest of the month, bringing either Imayoshi or Aomine or whoever she thinks will get your attention.

And Imayoshi Shouichi? Sure. He’s hot as hell.

But is he worth dealing with Aomine?

You like to think not.

Satsuki dragged you along to a basketball team meeting—the one that would be discussing the practice trip and the whole onsen ordeal.

It wasn’t like you needed to be there at all. You know just a little more than the average person about basketball. All that you were preparing for the onsen was your clothes and deciding whether it’s you or Satsuki who should be bringing her hairdryer.

“Why me?” You said, crossing your arms when the attention of the entire basketball team was redirected towards you, and Imayoshi laughed. The only problem they were facing was convincing Aomine to come along.

And you were happy with not being the babysitter. You were happy with twiddling your skirt as you sat on the edge of the stage of the hall, scrolling down your social media timeline as the team argued on how to get that blue-haired freak into coming.

That was until Satsuki ruined your afternoon by offering up your name.

To your surprise, everyone in the team seemingly agreed almost immediately to offer you as a sacrificial lamb to feed Aomine’s ego and coax him to at least come to the trip.

“He likes you,” Wakamatsu scoffed when you asked why, and you glared at him, but said nothing. Out of respect, you guess, to the upperclassman. It’s not like you respect him, though. You’re on bad terms with a lot of the basketball team, but no matter your disagreements with Wakamatsu, you will never dislike him the way you loathe Aomine.

“He does have a soft spot for you,” Imaoyshi mused as he flashed you a smile—and lord , you cannot say no to Imayoshi. Especially when he’s being so nice.

You saw Satsuki smirking from the corner of your eyes and internally cursed her.

That was how you found yourself climbing the ladder leading to the rooftop. 

And that was how you found Aomine with one hand between his backpack and head, and the other holding an obscene magazine.

He doesn’t even spare you a single glance—probably thought you were another manager or even worse: Satsuki again. But the moment you open your mouth to call out to him, his head snaps in your direction, an eyebrow raised in amusement as he pushes himself to rest his body against his elbows.

“What are you doing here?”

You try not to let your rage spill. You try to keep the boiling water down. You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and continue to climb the ladder before approaching him.

Think rational, you think to yourself, he hadn’t even said anything yet.

“The Captain wants to see you,” you manage to say between your gritted teeth, staring down at him before looking away. Imayoshi didn’t ask you to make Aomine see him, but Aomine probably respects Imayoshi more than you, so you try to throw him under the bus just to get out of the situation quicker.

“Imayoshi-san?” He frowns before repeating his initial question: “What the fuck are you doing here?”

I want to punch him.

“You own this roof or something?”

“Calm down,” he scoffs, tilting his head before eyeing your body up and down. You shift your weight into your other leg, ignoring the uneasy feeling on the pit of your stomach. “I just wanted to know.”

Sighing, you glance up at the sunny sky, sweat starting to form on the base of your neck and you are dying to leave at that very moment. You shelter your eyes from the sunlight, despite finding it more appealing than Aomine’s face.

“We’re discussing the practice trip thing—whatever, and also the onsen trip,” you lazily explain, not bothering to hide your disinterest. “Imayoshi-senpai wants you to be present for the meeting. Obviously.”

You cannot fathom the fact that you were explaining his basic responsibilities as a club member to him. What a fucking child.

“You coming with us?”

His focus seems to be misplaced, and you glare at the sky, imagining it was his stupid face.

“I’m going with Satsuki,” you correct, still not willing to look at him. “I don’t give two shits about you or the basketball team.”

“Hey,” he sits up, wrapping his fingers around your wrist before tugging your body towards him. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

You scoff, finally letting your gazes meet before pulling your hand away. “Fuck off.”

He, in fact, does not fuck off.

Aomine pulls on your wrist again, this time hard enough for you to lose your balance and fall, your knees landing on the coarse floor as the bottom of your skirt rides up your thighs. The skin of your knees scraping against the gravelled surface and you curse, jerking your hand away only to immediately shove his shoulder.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” You shriek, annoyed at how he remains unmoving even as you push him again.

He towers you, even when sitting, and keeps his eyes peering down at you.

Maybe it’s the heat that day; summer has just ended, but even the soft Autumn breeze cannot conceal the searing flare creeping up the skin of your cheeks. Aomine slants his eyes and grabs your wrist yet again—you weren’t quick enough to retract away from his athletic instincts, and so, you fall again when he pulls you in closer.

You hiss in pain as your knees drag more against the floor, desperate to find your balance only to grab on his shoulders.

“Hey,” He calls out to you, a lame attempt for your attention. “Look,” he says again, and your dumb ass looks.

He grabs the magazine on his lap and tautens the pages together, showing you the spread where he left off before you interrupted his peaceful afternoon. “(Y/N), remember Aya-chan?”

The girl that ruined your life?

How can you forget?

You cannot hide the distaste in your eyes as your eyes scan her beautiful, black hair falling against the sheer material of her white uniform top. The black lace bra she was wearing underneath is apparent as she pushes her two tits against each other, legs spread to reveal an equally seductive pattern on her panties.

Before you even realise, Aomine’s arm begins to wrap itself around your waist as he holds you up, fingers creeping up the side of your torso, tracing invisible lines before resting on one of your breasts. Your stomach begins to churn in excitement, embarrassingly enough, and you press your legs instinctively when the muscle between your thighs tighten as he continues fondling you.

You circle your arm around his neck under the pretence of keeping your balance.

“Mhmm…” He clicks his tongue, resting his face on the side of your upper arm—his nose touching the side of your tit as his hand palms your other one. “I feel like you’re no longer two sizes under Aya-chan. Maybe a size under? Maybe the same size?”

You grit your teeth. “You talk big. Have you ever seen her outside your magazine? She probably edits her photos.”

He grins, gaze shifting to drink in your frustration. “No, but you’re real, and I’m groping you right now. Isn’t that better?”

“Better than your pretty Aya-chan?”

Aomine raises an eyebrow, humming knowingly. You can’t even believe the word escaping your mouth.

“You have a cute side to you after all,” He muses after a short, mocking whistle. “What do you want me to say? Want me to tell you how much better you are than her?”

“Want you to shut the fuck up.”

“Calm down, tiger.” He laughs, pulling away from your arm. He tosses the magazine to the side, straightening his back to press a short kiss to the peak of your cheekbone. His hand begins to work; he slowly kneads your breast while continuously trailing kisses down to your ears. Your nipples brush against the fabric of your damned lace bra, and he stops for a moment only to tug on where your bud is protruding.

A whimper leaves your mouth.

“Excited are we?” He whispers, voice dropping lower as he presses his lips against your ears. “I like hearing you like that.”

“Shut up,” you run out of words, turning your head to the other side, exposing your neck to him. Which turns out to be a bad idea, as he takes it as a sign to sweep his tongue over the skin of your neck.

“A–Aomine��”

“God,” he chuckles. “Who would’ve guessed that you can be this sexy?”

He pulls away from your neck, and drags his hand from your tits to rub against your torso, feeling the material of your uniform. He presses one hand on the small of your back, pressing his forehead against yours. In a swift motion, he pulls on your body, drawing out a squeak as he lays you down against the concrete floor.

“What if…” he trails, rubbing a thumb under your eye as he hovers over rested body. Your cheeks sear with heat, alongside your chest and the pulsating on your cunt. “...I just fuck you right here?”

“W-what?” You whimper.

He laughs. “I’m hard as hell. You made me this way.”

“You were the one groping my tits!”

“You liked it,” he shrugs, pushing himself off of you, forcing both your legs open as he moves between them. His fingers begin to unbutton your uniform, unravelling the bra you are wearing underneath. Sucking in a deep breath, he stops midway down your torso, and without taking his eyes off your chest, he asks, “Want me to stop?”

Your cheeks flare, and you don’t answer him. You don;t even look at him.

He takes a quick glance at your expression.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’.”

“...Whatever.”

A wide smirk forms on his face, fingers continuing to unbutton your uniform all the way down.

“Do me a favour and get up for a bit,” he murmurs, pressing one of his hands against your back once again to get you to sit up. The feeling of his palm against your bare skin sends you to shivers, coupled with the soft wind whistling between the two of you.

“What’re you—”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as his fingers fumble with the hook of your bra. It took him two wrong moves before getting it right with the third—the fabric loosens around your body, and you pull him closer to conceal your humiliated expression.

“See,” Aomine chuckles after some awkward motion, tossing your stupid bra to the side when he finally gets it off. “You’re so pretty like this.”

“Shut up,” you groan, nails digging into his skin deeper and deeper.

He pulls himself away from your grip, taking a nice hold on your torso to pull your ass up his lap, letting you fall against the hard floor again.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, roaming his touches against your legs. His eyes cannot leave the heaves of your jugs.

“Stop fucking staring,” your hiss, trying to pull your uniform together, hiding your chest away from him.

Aomine scoffs, using one hand to unbuckle his pants. Your eyes travelled from his face to the loose button on his collar to the wet stain on the grey briefs around his hips to the bulge underneath them.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

He tilts his head at your question, furrowing his eyebrows as he takes his cock out from under his briefs. “Fucking you?”

The precum leaks from the tip of his cock, little drops of white strings rolling down his length. He pulls your hips closer to his body and presses it flat against your soaked panties.

He groans at the contact. Your warm slick welcomes him entirely as he presses more against the fabric, rubbing his tip along the length of your pussy.

“S’that feel good?” He whispers, hastily hooking his fingers on your panties, pulling it up your legs, then tossing it to go with your bra. He presses his arm on the side of your head, leaning into you again.

“Don’t put it in,” you whine, trying to hold back your hips from rolling. “You’re gonna get me pregnant.”

“You can’t say shit like that,” he groans against your neck. He positions the tip of his cock against your cunt, and even with your sopping lips, you aren’t sure if you are ready to accommodate his size at all. 

“You don’t want to be a teen dad,” you bite your lower lip, hand going to rub his neck.

“I wanna fuck you, though,” he breathes, using his thumb to run along your wet slit. “Wanna fuck you raw, wanna cum inside’a you.”

You tremble with his words, feeling two of his fingers now circling your pussy. “D— don’t be stupid.”

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, making your cunt wish it has something to tighten around. “D’you know how long I’ve been wanting to get you like this?”

He pushes himself off of you, and holds your wounded knees as he watches your chest heaves, heavy tits rolling with every staggered breath. He flips your skirt over, exposing even more of your cunt to the chill.

He rubs his length against your slick, his tip now pushing against your swelling clit. “I’d jack off and wonder if you were tighter than my fist,” he wraps his cock with his hand and places it again on your entrance, pushing in a slow, deliberate motion.

Between your drooping eyelids, you saw him inaudibly mutter a curse.

“Used to wanna fight Wakamatsu ‘cus he’d stuff this pussy all he wanted. Right?” He scoffs with a stupid, satisfied smile that you wish you could wipe off his face. “Shame that you broke it off, huh? Did he dump you when he realised how much of a whore you are?”

“Shut up…”

“Well, I don’t care. More fun for me.”

“Aomine—“

“Who else have you fucked in the basketball team?” He grunts. “In Touou?”

“Shut— shut the…”

You slap the back of your hand against your mouth—not willing at all to let him hear you be satisfied with his size—biting down on the flesh as he pushes his cock in. All of his cock in.

“Aomine—”

His cock is dragging against your wall, kissing every possible inch of your insides. Your hole continues to burn as he stretches you wide open, draining every last bit of energy from inside of you.

“ F-fuck…”

Your hand goes to fondle your own tit, rolling your hard nipple between your fingers, sloppily trying to garner more and more pleasure. His dick fills you more and more, stuffing you full, before finally stopping.

“Don’t act all reserved now,” he raises an eyebrow as you mewl out his name. He stays still for a moment, a bud of sweat rolling down his temple before pulling out of your homey cunt. “You don’t have to lie.”

Aomine bites his lips, letting his cock rest between your pussy lips. He sees the way they engulf his dick, moving his hips to rub against your core.

“Letting me fuck you on the school rooftop,” he murmurs, “where’s your fucking self-respect? Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if this isn’t your first time getting dicked down up here.”

Your eyes slant up at him, but he quickly shuts down any of your retaliation by pressing his thumb flat against your clit, slowly circling the nub. Your teeth press down hard on your bottom lips.

“We aren’t— we are not …” You babble, putting a thumb between your teeth to stop yourself from moaning, “...having sex.”

He scoffs, drinking in how your eyes roll with your head turned to the side.

“I was inside you just a moment ago.”

Filthy noise of his cock squelching against your cunt filled the air—if someone were to come after you, they would hear Aomine’s dick fucking your pussy lips.

“Fuck,”Aomine spits, pressing your legs tightly against each other then down on your lips.

“A-ah,” You gasp as he drills into your thighs, the tip of his cock rubbing quick and hard against your swollen clit. “Oh my God—”

“Are you cummin’?” He breathes, one hand reaching to roll your tit on his hand. “Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, and you whine at the nickname. He snickers, “You’re so sexy like this, y’know that?”

Your back arches, little whimpers of encouragement swallow your pride whole as you fall completely into him. Aomine grunts at the expression, seeing the lewd expression on your face. He picks up the pace, slamming his hips against your ass.

“M’gonna cum,” he hisses. “Fuck. Wish I could shoot my load into your tight little cunt.”

“Fuck it,” you manage to spit between your groans, “F-fuck it. Just— oh God, just don’t stop—”

Your words rile him up even more—he tightens his grip on your leg, his fingers bruising your fragile skin. Your head begins to spin. Your slam your fists against the ground and your mind numbing orgasm comes the moment strings of Aomine’s thick, white cum comes flying down your skirt and stomach.

“Shit,” he loosens the grip on your legs, letting them fall even with your still convulsing ass and core. His gaze stays on the tip of his dick, the white cum oozing from it, then to your face—your parted lips, dumb eyes, and the sweat dripping down the side of your head down your neck.

He feels himself getting harder as he watches your plump lips whine, wondering how they would wrap around his thick length, if the colour of your lipstick would stain the veins of his cock.

“You coming to the onsen trip?” Aomine tries to distract himself.

You roll over, blindly reaching out for the bra that he tossed God knows where.

“Fuck you.”

[malereadermaniac]

Camp Buddy x Male Reader NSFW alphabets

Top!Characters x Bottom!Reader Characters: Keitaro, Hiro, Yoichi, Natsumi, Taiga, Seto, Aiden, Yoshinori, Naoto, Lloyd, Darius Each character will have 3-4 letters of the alphabet assigned to them (everyone having the letter K, and it being based off of the cannon camp buddy journal) Word count: 9.2k Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI Kind of a 2k special?

Keitaro

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Keitaro doesn't have a specific kink that gets him going, if anything, his favourite thing to do during sex is to pleasure you; and if that means participating in any and all of your kinks, he sure as hell will do just that! So really his specialty is having a 'blank slate' or such an open mind - which really is endearing, it makes you feel so comfortable to suggest something new that you'd be into; and it's so hot when Keitaro not only shows interest in your kinks but also clearly enjoys them. This innocent man is willing to go from handcuffing you and fucking you until you're overstimulated to letting you get all dominant and ride him to high heaven! Being so flexible in his power dynamics and his fetishes allows Keitaro to enjoy whatever you throw his way, and it makes the sex so fucking good.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Again, due to the brunette's more flexible nature, he'll enjoy anything to do with cum; but that doesn't mean he doesn't have his favourite scenarios. For example, when it comes to his own orgasms, Keitaro really likes the tightness of cumming inside of you; his moans becoming sluttier and his arms wrapping around you to keep your hot, sweaty body against his as Keitaro shoots his thick, pearly white load inside of you, your warm, tight fucking hole clenching around his perfect dick. When you blow him, Keitaro definitely prefers cumming inside of your mouth; its that warmth and that tightness again that really does it for him, Keitaro is usually unable to let go of your hair as he forces you to take him all the way when he lets his hot jizz flow down your clenching throat. On the other hand, when it comes to your own spunk, Keitaro has such a fixation on tasting you... This man will be fucking you until you shoot your load all over your stomach and chest, then he'll slow his pace down to a soft rut into you as he bends down and runs his warm, wet tongue up your body; lapping up all of your cum onto his tongue and playing with it inside of his mouth, giving you a cute smile as he swallows and mumbles 'tasty as always'. And you can imagine that Keitaro's little fixation on your taste increases ten-fold when he's sucking you off or eating you out~

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Once again his open-mindedness really helps Keitaro and you when it comes to where you both fuck! You both prefer the standard bedroom of course, nothing beats the comfort of messing about in your own sheets knowing that there won't be any interruption and that the two of you can get as messy and as loud as you want. Yet, you and Keitaro aren't opposed to some public play, your boyfriend turning out to be quite the tease when at dinner with friends by running his hand up your thigh and eventually just straight-up using your crotch as a stress-toy! Fucking in public bathrooms isn't uncommon for you two, you just can't help yourselves! Oh and back when you both met at camp? Poor Natsumi caught the two of you fucking IN THE OCEAN after swimming up to you both because he though you two were getting swept away by the tide... BUT IN YOUR DEFENSE- giving a blowjob underwater isn't something you can do everyday, and Keitaro had never felt so fucking good in his life (although the poor man was worried that you wouldn't be able to breathe).

Hiro

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Foodplay is Hiro's main thing. The man's a cook, what else would you expect? The ginger not only likes to cook for you and watch you enjoy his tasty meals, but when it comes to fucking, Hiro is so into getting messy; and you aren't against it as long as he cleans up afterwards! Hiro's favourite thing to do is definitely to whip up some frosting on the more liquid side and use a spatula to drip it up his naked, muscular body - the white cream contrasting your boyfriend's tan skin very nicely. Then the ginger will entice you to come and lick him clean, his dick twitching at every swipe of your tongue across his abs or his biceps, his pits or even his face; Hiro going feral whenever you smoothly go from licking sweet cream off of his cheeks to kissing him. Hiro also gets going from the praises that fall from your mouth as you enjoy the sweet taste of whatever he's glazed his body in, relishing your praise of his cooking or baking skills by calling the food tasty and calling him sexy. This man is also totally into getting you covered in some food too and worshiping your body along the way. Hiro's favourite sexual experience ever being with you one year on his birthday, one of the presents you gave him being the permission for Hiro to decorate you like a cake and do whatever he wanted to; and of course this horny fucker took you up on that! You has dollops of whipped cream on your nipples with candied cherries acting as the buds, chocolote drizzle down your belly and straweberries on either side of your dick n balls - you looked quite pretty, and god damn you tasted good too! Hiro started by plucking a cherry from your nipples with his teeth (looking hot as fuck while doing so) and then licking down your torso for the chocolate and so on - to summaries, that night went on for a while and a lot of whipped cream had been licked off of your body while Hiro was fucking you, so much whipped cream that four canisters were in the bin the next morning!

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Let's be real here, of fucking course HIRO AKIBA is a goofy motherfucker in bed! Yeah there are serious moments where the man wants to really prove or show his love for you, and in those moments he'll tone down the giggles and touch you more, softly caressing you or holding onto your body as his pace is more slow and romantic; praise is typical in these moments from Hiro. However, usually, your boyfriend is so unserious during sex, he wants to have fun after all! Enjoy the moment with you ya know? Cracking jokes is typical, always timed perfectly and never made awkward; Hiro can always get a laugh out of you, in fact he's developed the perfect formula to allow him to hear your perfect little giggles and chuckles when he's balls deep! Hiro will start with a compliment of you, and then use some fuckass metaphor or comparison which always makes you laugh: "Your so perfect... ya know... hah.... you're the only thing I ever think about" Hiro would pant in between thrusts "Oh yeah?" you would return, too tired to and horny to match his charisma "Oh for sure... Well maybe I think about food more but Ya know!" "Oh shut up... hah" you would laugh and moan at your stupid boyfriends funny remark

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This man needs to chill the hell out... Because the way that Hiro can go, and is willing to go (!), until he physically collapses!?! It's worrisome that your boyfriend's brain gets completely overridden by his libido and all common sense and survival goes out the window... Hiro will be in literal pain, his thighs searing in pain and his dick stinging from cumming so many times and he will STILL go for another round if you're up for it! Typically, the two of you can go for a solid 3 rounds; sometimes 4 because your lovable boyfriend's only shortfall is that he barely lasts 10 minuets once he's inside of you (He can't help it! you just feel too good!). But on nights when the two of you are blind-sighted by your infatuation and desperation for one another, Hiro can make up to 9 rounds (shooting literal blanks) before his body literally gives out - but the sleep afterwards is astronomical, I'm talking 15h of sleep, naked and next to the man he loves. Not exactly healthy but that's why the two of you only do something like that extremely rarely.

Yoichi

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

As is common knowledge, most guys who display and value their strength during their daily lives usually have the fattest desire to be fucking dominated - and Yoichi is no different! This hunk has a fat bondage kink to begin with (we're talking latex, ballgags, rope, handcuffs, the whole lot) and to mix that with being told what to do and/or being used as some sort of sex toy by his handsome, sexy boyfriend? Yoichi was a) In love & b) Hard as a rock! It's not like the wolfboy wants to participate in shit like this all the time (it's more of a guilty pleasure than his favourite scenario, this man still loves to be in control!) but Yoichi enjoys it when he gets to be more of a subtop and let you put in some of the work for once! Yoichi fucking loves it when you get him naked, handcuff him to a chair and suck his dick until he cries; his begs for you to stop and his slutty whines egging you one and making your dick hard, and the ego boost you get when you follow Yoichi's request to stop, and the man whines 'nooo' from the loss of pleasure, is great too. Your hunky boyfriend is also suuuuper into having you use his dick like a dildo, he gets so hard watching you tie ropes around his wrists and ankles as you tie Yoichi to the bed, and JESUS when you ride him like that? The man finds it so fucking hard not to cum! The way you use him like some sex toy whilst he can't even reach out to touch you? It shoots his puffed up ego down so fucking good. Oh! And when you two get freaky with it in this way, Puppyplay is a big thing for Yoichi! Fucking hell, the way you talk down to him and praise him in a such a patronising manner makes the man leak gallons of precum from his twitching cock! He loves is when you put a whole leash around his neck and a god damn muzzle on him, a fluffly, long wolf tail buttplug in his ass which you tug on as he fucks you roughly - it's the perfect combination, makes Yoichi cum so damn quick!

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

As you can expect from your rugged and rough boyfriend, this bitch does not shave. Anywhere. It wasn't until you came along that he even started to put effort into his appearance! The two of you wax together as little evening dates, waxing each other in a very domestic manner - but it really is unfair, cause you only get to wax Yoichi's chest n back and that man gets to see you writhe in pain waxing so much more!! But, unfortunately (so fucking fortunately), Yoichi never dares to touch his armpits or his pride and joy (his cock n balls); which leaves the man with very bushy, dark purple armpits and pubes, and we're talking a fucking forest downstairs... And Yoichi is not one to stray away from any form of dominance, so you best believe that your face is smushed into his hairy, sweaty pits a lot of the time, and that his musky pubes stuff your nose every single time you kindly give your boyfriend a blowjob. Yoichi likes to show this off too! Flexing his big, manly muscles in a tanktop so that his damp pit hair can make a tiny cameo; or even pulling his bottoms and the waistband of his boxers just a tinge lower so his bush n happy trail are on full display. This man loves to tease you with his sexy body hair, you can't complain though, it gets you going every time!

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Now whilst Yoichi isn't the most sentimental guy out there, he can't deny the fact that he is absolutely smitten by you; so he does show his romantic side more than his 'though guy' act would like him to. Obviously, when your horny boyfriend wants to either let out some stress or sexual frustration, or he just wants to fuck, you two will be less 'rose petals and wine' about it and just go feral on each other; as in, Yoichi absolutely abuses your prostate with his massive, thick cock as his huge body envelopes yours, his bite marks on your neck and yours on his. But when Yoichi feels the need to express his love for you, he takes it seriously - the man wants you to know that he fuckin adores you! The woldboy would light some candles for mood lighting and spray himself with your favourite cologne of his, he'd be all up on you once you enter the room and immediately talk to you in such a sexy way: "Thought we could take it slower today, what d'ya think, cutie" And when it's a more 'spur of the moment' thing, Yoichi gets more intimate by slowing his pace down and toning down the roughness, lowering down to make out with you passionately as he gently fucks you in deep thrusts, rubbing his dickhead against your prostate and using his six-pack as a fucking washboard as he rubs your dick between your own stomach and his abs.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

This horny fucker can't function if he doesn't cum by 10am, and on average Yoichi cums twice a day - so if you aren't around to help him out, or just aren't in the mood, of course Yoichi will have a little time to himself. If you can't be asked to go through all the prep to bottom in the morning, Yoichi usually has to deal with morning wood by himself; which he isn't against, yeah he'd like to have sex with you but this man is surprisingly the king of consent (bare minimum guys don't forget!). Typically, Yoichi's favourite combo during masturbation is watching porn whilst smelling some of your clothing, it helps him to imagine you and him in whatever porno he's jerking it to. But sometimes the man will just go with his imagination, putting you and him the most filthy scenarios in his head as Yoichi closes his eyes and goes to fucking town with a fleshlight. And of course the man will jack off if you are so kind as to send him some certain types of pictures when you two are apart. The amount of times Yoichi has ran to the bathroom when helping out Yoshinori at camp so that he could jerk off to pictures and videos you'd sent him; his favourites being the ones with you in his clothing, using a dildo or just wanking whilst moaning his name, makes this man throb in his jeans within seconds!

Natsumi

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Something that really gets Natsumi in the mood, and gives him the confidence to show off, is underwear! With his lean, muscular figure and massive package, your handsome boyfriend is the ideal underwear model; he feels confident when modelling different briefs and boxers and jocks for you, liking the way you eye up his huge bulge and slowly get hard, Natsumi stiffening up himself. On the modelling side, Natsumi likes to try on many different types of underwear! Tight, latex speedos make all of the details of his dick visible, from his head, to his veins and the small size of them even shows off his pubes n happy trail! Jockstraps show off his muscular ass whilst still giving you a nice view of Natsumi's big dick, the fabric nice and loose allowing his balls to sag and make his bulge look even bigger. Your boyfriend's standard briefs fit him so well, the star pattern getting so sexily distorted from the size of his dick and the fabric being short enough to just tease his muscular upper-thighs. Oh and fucking hell when Natsumi models boxers he looks so damn hot, the loose fabric making his muscular body look leaner, and DAMN when he gives you a little peak of his massive cock by slipping it through the front hole?? So hot. This horny man also gets the hots for smelling underwear too! Just cause he seems innocent doesn't mean he can't get perverted! Natsumi gets so fucking turned on when he pushes his nose against your clothed bulge, smelling your natural scent drives him wild as he prepares to blow you. And yes, Natsumi is a little ashamed to admit that he has taken your worn underwear out of the wash basket to hold them to his face whilst jerking off.... A pervert in hiding I tell you!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Oh bless Natsumi's little heart - he's so good at aftercare! This man must be an angle sent from above, because the way he will fuck you silly with that massive dick, temporarily paralyzing you from the waist down, and then immediately run a bath and carry you to the bathroom bridal style? Ugh it just makes you fall even deeper in love with your charming boyfriend! Natsumi's standard routine is very complex and organised; what else would you expect? He starts by letting you both bask in the afterglow and get a breather before reluctantly leaving your side to run a hot bath. Then, you barely even register that Natsumi had left the bed by the time he's wiping your body clean of cum and sweat and then picking you up to take a bath with you; and this adorable man will sit behind you in the tub as he washes your hair and body as he kisses the few hickeys he'd left on you (because this man isn't biting you even if you beg.). By the end of the night, the two of you are in a freshly made bed and cuddling in very comfortable (yet ridiculous looking) positions under the covers.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Oh and after his whole aftercare routine, Natsumi usually falls asleep so quick; but not before he can watch you fall asleep in his arms, not before he can listen to you calmly breathing and take in the beauty you naturally exude as you peacefully sleep. Very rarely does Natsumi fall asleep straight away, but when he does you can't blame him; it's literally coded into his brain that he goes to sleep at 10pm sharp, so staying up till 12am or 1am to put in a lot of energy whilst fucking can get to him! When he wakes up all sticky and sees you in such a disheveled state the next morning, Natsumi can't stop apologising for the whole day, listening to you like a puppy in hopes to not upset you further (even though you weren't upset to begin with).

Taiga

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Your boyfriend has felt very powerless before when the whole camp hated him, so anything that makes him feel dominant and strong really gets Taiga going; and body worship really hits the mark. Taiga prefers you to praise and to focus on his body in the form of massages; your soft hands deeply pressing into your boyfriend's oiled up muscles, your gentle voice spewing out praises of his body being 'strong' and 'perfect', it gets this man hard within a couple of minuets. Taiga likes to have you on his body, your dick rubbing against his as you massage his fat pecs and your face hovering above his as Taiga focuses on your pretty face - lit candles and aphrodisiac body oil really add to the experience too, oh and when you move on to jerking Taiga off? This man is so shocked he doesn't cum instantly; your oiled up, hot hand feeling like heaven around his cock, and the sight of your semi-naked form servicing him is just such a hot view! When Taiga isn't getting a massage from you, he still likes to incorporate some sort of body worship when fucking you, and he even worships your body too! Praises are common from Taiga as he thrusts into you whilst also licking up to your jaw all the way from your abdomen, your muscles covered in bite marks and hickeys as Taiga praises your body and claims you in the process. When it comes to you worshiping Taiga's body during regular old sex, you love to tease your fiery boyfriend with kisses to his thighs as you call his dick massive and tasty while jerking it off with the spit on it from previous activities with your mouth. When he's balls deep inside of you, you like to hold Taiga's body close to yours with such a tight hold, pushing his muscles against your face as you stuff your face into his pecs or his biceps or his pits, praises and moans falling from your lips and into Taiga's ears, egging your boyfriend on to fuck you even harder.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Humiliation. We all know that men who have big egos during regular life really wanna get beaten down during sex. It's not something that Taiga thinks about often, he's very much a big fan of receiving body worship from you, but a small part of him can't help but send blood rushing down to his dick at the idea of you spewing nasty words his way whilst riding him, or whilst playing with his dick and denying Taiga any pleasure at all. Your boyfriend has caught himself masturbating to the thought of kneeling infront of you completely naked, and you sitting on a chair infront of him as you call him a 'gross pervert' or a 'dirty slut' whilst touching his hard, twitching dick with only your feet - giving him a sloppy footjob to tease your boyfriend as all he can do it kneel before you and take what he's given. Taiga would so be into you spitting on his face as you make out with him, or you riding him like some cheap dildo and ignoring his needs, or you just calling him names as your have him kneel above you on your lap - you still fully clothed whilst you jerk off Taiga with an inhumane amount of lube, the man fully naked and whimpering down to you. But he'd never confess any of this to you! Not unless you walk in on him as he jerks off to porn of it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Pretty much just you existing and doing fuck all can get Taiga in the mood to dick you down. This man loves you so much and that love can translate to lust rather quickly! Taiga is down to fuck whenever and where ever with you, and he's got the balls to suggest it too. But specific things which gives Taiga the motivation to bed you may include: You talking to any guy other than Taiga for an extended period of time. This man is jealous, and if you give some other dick more attention than you give your perfect boyfriend, Taiga's gonna want to set you straight - and his way of doing so is via filthy, rough sex. Wearing specific types of clothing can also get Taiga going, such as when you wear any of Taiga's sweatshirts or hoodies, no matter if they're bigger on you or too small, the possessive undertone of the action riles your handsome boyfriend up so damn well! And being nice in general can really turn Taiga on; again, love turns to lust real quick with this man, and he's barely ever had people be nice towards him so if you act domestic with him by cooking him a meal or if you perform acts of basic human decency (like asking if you can make his day better?!) it gets Taiga hard real quick.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Taiga's a little bit of both to be fair! It's more of a 51:49 split for fast and rough:Slow and sensual, because Taiga loves to show off his dominant side during sex - but there's no doubt that this man just wants to communicate his love towards you during sex as well, so Taiga can be very sensual and take things slow if the moment is right. Your boyfriend really likes to wine & dine you on the weekends, so after a couple of glasses of your wine of choice and an expensive meal, Taiga and you can get very romantical with it; we're talking slow and deep thrusts while making out and 'I love you's' being said every second. The usual fast and rough pace is where the two of you fuck like animals; with Taiga absolutely enamoured by the way you look, the sounds you're making, the way you're biting and holding onto him, just you yourself making Taiga want to keep pushing through any exhaustion to keep pounding into you. Your loving boyfriend doesn't just want to feel you tightly and warmly grip around his dick with your hole, but he also wants to ensure that you're feeling immense pleasure too - so he makes sure to thrust his hips so rough and so deep that you can feel his dick make its way to your belly.

Seto

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Online sex is Seto's biggest turn on, he just has such a thing for feeling as if you're giving him a private cam-show! Your gamer boyfriend loves e-sex with you so much that he's invested in the two of you having separate gaming rooms; just so you both can get a more realistic experience! The brunette loves to hop onto a video chat with you on discord and start dirty talking as you strip for him, and very quickly are sex toys busted out. The call will usually just consist of the two of you watching each other pleasure yourselves with sex toys as you moan and dirty talk to each other; Seto's personal fave being when you use the cockring he'd gifted you as well as a dildo, he loves to be in control of you even if you aren't in the same room, and how better to do that than control your orgasms! Another kink of Seto's is also exhibition, but not in the standard way. This man loves to fuck you whilst he's on call with friends when playing a game, or when he's in a game lobbies voice chat; it gets Seto going so well. Your geeky boyfriend just loves the fact that those on the other end of the line keep asking if he's all good from the grunts and brief moans he accidentally lets out, oh and he loves to threaten you with the idea of his friends finding out that Seto was currently fucking you in a means to shut you up; Seto never actually tries to get you to be quiet though, he just likes to watch you try and keep your moans in as he lazily thrusts up into you!

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

As previously mentioned, when the two of you have online sex, toys are always brought out; Seto being partial to a fleshlight of his, and the man really liking when you use dildos of his size. But during regular sex, Seto is still a big fan of using toys! When it comes to using sex-toys on you, Seto fucking loves to use tiny bullet vibrators; this man will tape them to your nipples and keep them on a low vibe the entire time he's fucking you, oh and you will always have one tapes to your hard, throbbing dick on max speed whilst a cockring keeps you from cumming! Seto just loves to see the desperation on your face as he fucks you silly. By the time Seto has shot a couple of loads inside of you, his next favourite toy to use is a buttplug, a big one too! It doesn't hurt at all after all of Seto's loosening up of your hole, but damn does it press up against your walls so well, keeping your boyfriend's cum inside of you for a while; that is, until he wants to take it out in order to watch his spunk leak out of you. The toys that Seto likes used on himself are also pretty limitless, but he definitely has a fave - fleshlights. Whenever Seto takes on a more submissive role, his favourite thing you do is when you handcuff/tie him to a chair and torture the poor man with a fleshlight; using an ungodly amount of lube as you jerk off his dick with the tight toy, but you don't let your boyfriend until he's literally crying for it - it's just so hot, for the both of you!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

This man is so unfair in bed! If you two are fucking whilst he's in a game, Seto will either have you cockwarm him for soooo long, until you're literally trembling with need for him - or (!) your smug boyfriend will fuck you into a pillow and tell you that if his friends can hear you in the game, he'll stop fucking you; evil I tell ya! When you two are going more vanilla, Seto will still tease you like hell; we're talking stopping fucking you if you're about to cum, and using cockrings to make you a cockdrunk mess as you beg to be allowed to cum! But all of that doesn't mean that Seto doesn't like to be teased himself! We've already established that the man likes to sub from time to time, and the way that you don't let that motherfucker cum for hours on end is quite funny; oh and when you finally let Seto cum, you aren't letting him go until he can't speak due to overstimulation.

Aiden

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

It shouldn't come as a shocker that Aiden has a fat exhibitionism kink; the man struts about with only an apron covering his dick and his ass fully out! You and your freaky boyfriend have partaken in public sex quite a lot due to this preference of Aiden's, you have no qualms about this though; as the thrill of there being a chance of being caught at any second in such a moment really gets you going too. The two of you have had sex not only in the camp kitchen (having almost been caught my many campers and scoutmasters), but also at the beach, in the forest, and even behind cabins! Aiden just gets such a thrill out of it, he wants to show off his body, your relationship, and the adrenaline pairs so well with the dopamine from fucking you! Musk n sweat is also something that Aiden is quite partial to - your boyfriend is locked up in that steamy kitchen all day, of course he'll get very sticky and musky real quick! Aiden finds it so hot when you smell his body and lick his tan muscles after a day of work, it's kinda like a body worship kink, but a tad bit more possessive once it comes to Aiden feeling like he's marking you with his scent. This kink goes vice versa too - your sexy man loves to smell your natural musk after a day out in the sun, Aiden fucking lives to press his nose into your crotch during foreplay, so he can fill his nose with your scent.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Aiden's favourite body part of his is either his arms or his ass. The himbo is so proud of his bulging biceps and triceps that he can't help but show them off, he even gets turned on by the way that you eye up his tan, muscular arms - the peak of his armpit hair as he flexes his arms like a gymbro really doing it for ya! Aiden is also incredibly proud of his ass; muscular yet still soft and plush, his tan skin accentuating the curve of his cheeks, it's a damn good ass. And most people can tell that the man likes his ass, cause Aiden is always showing it off! No matter if he's in a speedo or an apron, your boyfriend's cheeks always make a debut somehow. When it comes to Aiden favourite body part of yours, the man can't hide the fact that your thighs are his biggest turn on. Aiden loves the way that your thighs shape your body, he loves biting on the plump flesh between breathes as he blows you, he loves marking them with hickeys, and fuck does Aiden love gripping your thighs or smacking them as he fucks you! Even when you two are just relaxing, your cute boyfriend's head is either laying on your thighs or squished between them (and when the he's giving you such earth-shattering head that your thighs tighten around his head, it turns the green-haired hunk on so fucking much). An honorable mention to Aiden's second most favourite body part of yours: your mouth. He just can't get enough of how your warm, tight mouth feels around his cock, he loves the way your tongue looks and feels running up his body, and Aiden treats your lips like a drug from the way he gets so addicted to them when kissing you - the man usually turning a small peck into a full blown make out!

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Come on, Aiden is all about risk! We know that fucking in public is such a turn on for the man, but that doesn't mean any and all other risk is off of the table. Aiden is usually down to try whatever with you, anything new which you throw his way, Aiden will usually agree to; that's how you two figured out you were both soooo into costumes n role play (and yes, his 'Halloween costume' did infact lead to a 'god-worshiper' roleplay). Choking is something that the two of you have played around with, and the way that Aiden's veiny, tan hands felt around your throat was enough to add that kink to your regular repertoire! If Aiden has to set a limit, his usual would be anything that involves hurting you too much; yes, he's into choking if you're into choking, but even if you ask Aiden to slap you around or hit you, he'd say no. The furthest Aiden goes in the realm of impact play is spanking you whilst fucking or biting.

Yoshinori

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Yoshinori's biggest kink is shit to do with feet; more specifically, his boots. Maybe it's a domination thing, or maybe Yoshi just likes a show, but this man's dick throbs so much when he gets to watch you try to pleasure yourself on his expensive, dirty, leather boots. Yoshinori doesn't even have to move, he gets enough sexual satisfaction from watching you, fully naked, rub your hard, twitching dick against his boot and whine as the friction barely gets you a buzz. That's not to say that Yoshi doesn't like to put effort in himself, this man gets so turned on when he plays with your dick with his boot-covered foot, the rough material making you mewl, your sounds and the view going straight to your boyfriend's stiff cock. Outside of 'boot-play' Yoshi's little kink for feet still runs wild; the muscular scoutmaster getting so riled up whenever you worship his feet, whenever you press your nose against his clothed feet and get drunk off of the scent attached to his steaming socks, whenever you slowly strip his big feet of his damp socks and lick at the sole of his foot and at his toes (Yoshi's veiny, big feet juxtaposing your smaller head cause they're just that big!). Oh and when you two are fucking? Best believe that your hunk of a man has gotten carried away before from the pleasure of fucking you and positioned himself so that his foot was pushing your head into the bed as he kept on fucking you - the feeling of being so dominated sending shivers up your spine. When it comes to his minor foot-fetish towards you, Yoshi has quite the affinity for pushing your feet on either side of his face as he fucks you missionary, your soft soles against his cheeks as he gives you a goofy, satisfied smile with his eyes closed.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Yoshinori will give and take whatever you are happy with; he's got a very open mind when it comes to oral! Your boyfriend is happy to blow you until the cows come home, he gets his pleasure not only physically, but pleasuring you also gets this man going. The dirty blonde likes to start with long, slimy laps at your hard dick, covering your shaft with his warm, thick spit, and then he will take you into his mouth fully and give you some mind blowing head. Surprisingly, this man can take any size dick in that throat of his, and he puts that to good use; Yoshi usually makes you cum at least once during foreplay, and that is usually with you cumming down his throat within minuets! When you're giving your boyfriend head, he's very patient with you; Yoshinori knows that his dick is big and that it can be a lot to take at once, but damn, when you get that veiny, thick dick into your mouth? This man is a moaning mess, his big hands on each side of your head as his thick, manly fingers weave through your hair whilst you slobber all over his dick. Yoshi loves your blowjobs so, so much, and if it weren't so straining on you, he'd have you blow him much more than you already do (which is usually once per day!) Eating you out is another type of oral that Yoshi is super into; he just fucking loves makin you feel good! And the sounds you make whilst his hands are parting your cheeks and his hot, thick, wet tongue is rubbing against your walls, they're divine. Yoshi's oral skills are not to be messed around with, this man will have you whining, moaning and panting just from his tongue, and it gets him going so much - Yoshi just loves to satisfy you!

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Yoshinori is quite experienced; he'd dated a guy back in highschool, and during college he'd had sex with both Aiden and Goro at camp, so it's safe to say that the man knows what he's doing! The muscular man knows that he's quite intimidating due to his size (both body-wise and dick-wise), so when you both got together, he ensured to take his time and take it slow with you so that you don't feel rushed. He taught you and guided you if you were unsure or a little behind on certain positions or kinks; and it's safe to say that Yoshi got you up to speed real quick!

Naoto

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

One of your boyfriend's biggest little quirks is his thing for modeling. Naoto gets really turned on when he gets to model clothing for you, or when you're with him at a shoot in which he wears practically nothing; the hunk gets to show off his killer body and gets to watch your cute reactions to his suggestive poses, the man is winning at life! But when bringing modeling into the bedroom, Naoto likes to merge both worlds and to model whilst fucking you; and by that I mean, the man films it. Naoto gets egged on so, so much during sex with you when he grabs his phone from the nightstand and starts to record the two of you going at it. The muscular man gets so turned on from watching you through the phone as the camera shares its focus between his thick cock plowing into your tight hole, and your sweaty, exhausted body which looks heavenly as you lay on the bed and take your boyfriend's dick like a champ. Of course, Naoto has checked if you're okay with him filming your little escapades and you quickly agreed - not only does it add some more excitement and thrill to the moment, but the both of you then have a spankbank absolutely full of videos of you two. Videos of Naoto moaning your ear how good you feel, videos of the man flexing above you as he thrusts like a maniac, videos of your moans of his name, videos of Naoto's muscles and abs as he gives you a sexy little POV shot, and Naoto's personal favourites: videos of your fucked out body, begging for more as Naoto fucks you, cum oozing out of your soft cock. Those memories will stay with you both forever, and they can get quite cute and wholesome at times; like when Naoto catches the two of you taking a breather and kissing on camera, or brief I love you's or check-ins on how each other are feeling.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

When you proposed the idea of making a pretty penny by selling the aforementioned videos, Naoto definitely wasn't opposed - with the sole condition that the fact that you two are a loving couple being the forefront of your 'account'. Very quickly, the two of you garnered plenty of views and subscribers to your accounts, with most of your viewers being head-over-heels for the adorable, wholesome dynamic that you and Naoto have - and all of your viewers couldn't deny just how fucking hot the two of you were! Separately and together! Your chemistry with Naoto would subconsciously amp up when filming, the two of you would vocalise way more than before; because the camera can't catch the knowing looks that you two give to eachother, the looks which already say 'I love you' without it having to be said a hundred times. And you can't lie, the money which the two of you make is wild.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Other than the standard avoidance of actually hurting you during sex (and just not being a fan of scat), the main thing that Naoto just wouldn't do is anything surrounding his family/Natsumi (NOT IN AN INCEST WAY!). This goes from PDA to anything more risque, Naoto just gets really awkward around his family when it comes to this kind of stuff; he's had to share a room with Natsumi and has given the younger man shit for jerking off in the same room as him, so Naoto just feels weird kissing you infront of his brother. And whilst the two of you have of course visited Naoto's family home and stayed round, that man has never been so frigid than when sharing a bed with you at his parents house; he didn't want ANYTHING even remotely sexual to happen under his parents roof - which you can understand and allocate for, that's why you two fuck like rabbits before a trip to his parents!

Darius

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Size difference is Darius' main thing; he's just so into the fact that he's so huge to you, that he has the power to just lift you with ease, and that you're also so clearly into the fact that he's so much bigger than you, in all aspects. Ever since he was young, Darius had been tall, and after getting older n thinking of his physique, his massive muscles really added to the fact that he was fucking huge in comparison to almost anyone. Your taller boyfriend just loves the fact that you could literally hang from his dick as he fucks you and your feet would dangle rather than touch the ground. Darius is also super into the fact that he's so fucking built and strong that he can effortlessly hold you in his arms or manhandle you during bed; your poor body having been stretched into many different positions after many nights spent with the muscular man. Your dark-skinned boyfriend is also really into how his frame contrasts yours; how your body is smaller when laying on top of him, how your hands can barely grip his broad, defined shoulders, oh and how his dick is so much bigger than yours when he jerks his dick n yours together. Speaking of his dick, Darius gets such a high when he sees his dick make a fucking bulge in your abdomen when he fucks you, his big hands pressing against the spot to make your writhe in pleasure as you spew out moans; the fact that he's so big that he is visible inside of you just boosts his ego so much. His hands are another contributor towards your boyfriend's size kink - Darius is so into the fact that his hand completely covers your whenever he holds it. The muscular man loves how small your hands are against his when he intertwines your fingers as he fucks into you, and he's so into how much smaller your body looks in comparison to his hands when he holds you; his masculine, large hands making your waist look smaller, or your throat, or your dick, or your arms. And you have absolutely no complaints at how large Darius' hands are, his fingers work literal magic inside of you when he's prepping you for taking his huuuuge dick - his digits pressing against and curling into your prostate, the darker hunk milking your dick with a nonchalant smirk on his face as you moan like a whore infront of him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

In contrast to you, Darius isn't the most vocal lover. It's not that the man doesn't make any noise at all, it's more that he's just a little quiet - or rather he tires to limit himself, hold his noises in. Darius is the kinda guy to grunt n groan your name into your ear, quietly letting you know that he feels good as he focuses on fucking you right, rather than moaning like a pornstar and sloppily fucking you. Small curses in the form of mumbles escape his lips from time to time, usually when he's putting it inside of you for the first time that day; your walls incredibly tight due to the large intrusion. The man's groans also make their way into your mouth when the two of you make out when fucking, Darius' sounds vibrating nicely against your own as your tongues dance together - oh and praises are quite common once the nonchalant hunk loses his little 'idgaf' attitude, his favourite's consisting of "Yeahhh good fuckin boy" and "So good... so pretty". The tables turn once Darius is close to cumming, his efforts to keep quiet getting thrown out the window due to the oncoming waves of pleasure - the red-head's jaw going slack as his hands' grip tightens on your hips, his biceps flexing as his hips thrust into you crazily, vulgar sounds and moans spewing out of his mouth like a tap left running.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It's no secret that Darius is fucking PACKING; we're talkin 11inches long and 6inches thick (cannon btw)! The man also uses his dick skillfully; if he weren't as well endowed as he his, your boyfriend would still be able to rock your world every day n night. His dick is the same, dark colour as his skin, with his tip being slightly reddish - the whole shaft has small veins adorning it and his foreskin covers his whole head, the perfectly tight skin protecting Darius' thick tip, his dickhead resembling a mushroom when he's hard; his glands throbbing and ready to be inside of you. The giant's balls also really add to the appeal of his dick; your boyfriend's saggy, big balls hang beneath his dick like a pair of golfballs, and the sparse pubes which cover his nuts decorate Darius' balls nicely. When it comes to fitting his massive cock inside of you, Darius ensures to take his time with you; the first time you two did anything together resulted in many tears due to Darius' desperation to feel you, and your ability to walk was very much impaired for the next day. After a long time of practice with you, Darius now knows your body like the back of his hand, and ergo he knows how to work your body to take his dick; the man will finger you for ages and make sure to ease in slowly, he knows exactly how deep he gets when he sees the bulge in your belly, and Darius will only push your head when you're sucking him off if you give him the go ahead.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Mating press. Need I say more? Yes I do. Your boyfriend's size kink is reflected in all aspects of his life, mainly in small, subconscious manners, but during sex, he very consciously chooses positions which show off the difference in size between the two of you. The fact that Darius can bend your body over into such a meek position as he drills his dick into you ruthlessly really turns him on; it's such a display of power, and it shows off how fucking massive your muscular, dark-skinned boyfriend is in comparison to you, due to the fact that you're almost bent literally in half. The position also really turns you on as well! The way that Darius' rough hands feel on the back of your thighs as he pushes your knees to your chest, the way that the man's handsome, sharp face dangles above you as he fucks you with a sexy smirk on his face, and the way that his dick reaches so deep inside of you and grazes you prostate every millisecond, it's all just too good!

Lloyd

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

CW: piss!!!!

Musk n sweat are definitely some of Lloyd's kinks; the man really gets the hots for when you get high off of his natural, manly scent and worship his body, it makes him feel domianant. He loves it when you sniff his hairy, damp pits after a workout or when you lick his muscles clean of sweat - the man liking the way that your face looks as your tongue rolls over his abs or biceps - and Lloyd gets so fucking turned on when you deepthroat him and all you can inhale is the smell of his musky, thick pubes. Oh and this short-king most certainly enjoys worshiping your body, your natural scent is ingrained into his brain! Lloyd fucking loves to smell you, he finds some weird comfort in the smell that fills the room as the two of you fuck like animals, and he sure as hell gets hard when he sees you after you've gone for a run; your tank top absolutely drenched and your underwear n socks sticking to you uncomfortably. Your boyfriend also most definitely jerks off to the smell of your clothing or your underwear, he loves to fist at his cock whilst the only thing he can smell is his perfect boyfriend! But one Lloyd's biggest kinks ever has to watersports - controversial I know! There's just something about dirtying you, claiming you with his piss that really turns your boyfriend on; the perverted man is soooo into you letting him cover you in his piss, in his scent as you jerk off below him; it makes him feel dominant, it makes him feel possessive, it makes Lloyd want to fuck you so damn bad! And the man very much loves it when you participate too; you don't have anything against Lloyd's thing for watersports, but you rarely piss too. This nasty man fucking loves it when you've been fucking for so long, and you've came so many times that all of your boyfriend's rough thrusts into your prostate force you to piss yourself as he fucks you; it happened on accident once, and Lloyd has never been so turned on (BJ Alex ref lol).

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Surprisingly, Lloyd's libido isn't insanely high! Sure, the man will want to have sex with you at least once a week, but he's not desperate to fuck you every second of every day. The two of you average around three times a week, but Lloyd will almost always ask for a second round; to which you always oblige. If Lloyd is particularly stressed due to work, or if he had a shit day, sex is almost guaranteed; you help the man relax, can ya blame him? And also, if you look especially attractive that day, Lloyd is firstly eating you out like a starved man, and then fucking his dick in between them tight walls.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Lloyd has no opinion on quickies. He's not against them at all, if you're horny but have limited time, Lloyd is happy to suck you off real quick and vice versa! However, the short man can't deny that if you are going to do anything, he prefers to take his time with it; Lloyd just really likes to take things slow and enjoy the time he has with you! This man will slowly trail down your body with kisses and mark you and smell you before even whipping your dick out to give you a bj normally, during a quickie he just sucks you off - your boyfriend likes to cherish you, not rush you!

PHEW! That was so god damn long wtaf, I didn't expect it to take this long to write but I'm so happy with the way this turned out! Hope you guys enjoyed too!

I'd also like to thank you all for 2000 followers! I have always and will always primarily write for myself (to provide what I can't find), but it means a lot that so many people enjoy my writing as well! Thank you so, so much for all of the engagement, the male reader community on tumblr is so great - love you all!

[witchywithwhiskey]

Lloyd + 61. “did you really think that would work? cute”

cooped up on a nice spring day

pairing: husband!lloyd hansen x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, choking, light bdsm, bratting, begging, teasing, dirty talk, light degradation, praise kink, referenced oral sex (f receiving), pet names (it's lloyd so there's a bunch), established relationship, fluff

word count: 1,800ish

a/n: thank you for sending in this prompt Eva!!! and it's so perfect for Lloyd!! i had a lot of fun writing this one—it has probably the brattiest reader i've written so far, so i hope you enjoy!!! ♡♡

The view outside your husband’s office was beautiful in the spring—in fact, the garden was one of the reasons you’d fallen in love with the house and why Lloyd Hansen had bought it for you. There were so many flowering trees and so much flourishing greenery that you felt like you could stare at it all for hours while Lloyd worked.

And, in fact, that’s exactly what you’d been doing on that particular spring day. Lloyd had even opened the window so you could feel the warm spring breeze against your cheeks and smell the sweet perfume of the lilacs and honeysuckle from the garden. It was a beautiful day and you hoped Lloyd would finish working soon so you could go outside and enjoy the sunshine together.

It had been your intention when you’d strolled into Lloyd’s office in one of your pretty sundresses to entice your husband to go for a walk in the garden with you. You’d had designs about packing a picnic and spreading out a blanket beneath one of the leafy trees to spend the afternoon together. But Lloyd had insisted he couldn’t be pulled away from work—though that hadn’t stopped him from pulling you into his lap.

One thing had led to another and your plan to coax him out of his office had been foiled when he’d talked you into straddling his lap and keeping his cock warm while he worked. With the window open, it had seemed like the perfect compromise. After all, you loved being connected to your husband in such an intimate way, and with you able to stare out the window behind his desk, you’d been content.

For a while.

But your hips ached a little from sitting in the same position for so long, and your body was growing restless from having Lloyd’s perfect cock buried inside you for so many hours without anything in the way of satisfaction. But every time you moved your hips even a little bit, even to readjust yourself, Lloyd’s hand would press firmly against your lower back and he’d urge you to keep still. 

You tried to be good, you really did, but the sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon and you could feel the beautiful spring day slipping through your fingers, along with all your plans to enjoy it with your husband. A whine worked its way up your throat and you couldn’t bear to bite it back. 

“Lloyd, please, can’t we go outside for a little while,” you begged, your arms circling around his shoulders and squeezing him tight while you tried, and failed, to keep your hips from rocking in lazy circles. “You can work later.” Your last word came out on a whimper as you felt the delicious drag of his cock against your inner walls, a shiver racing down your spine.

“Just a little while longer, pet,” Lloyd rumbled distractedly, pressing his hand against your lower back and urging you to still your rolling hips. “You can be a good girl for your husband, can’t you?” He offered you a sly smile as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.

Huffing an impatient sigh, you let him stop your movements, muttering, “That’s what you said an hour ago.” If you sounded petulant, that’s because you were. You didn’t even try to hide your mood from your husband, who seemed content with ignoring his wife’s needs. 

As if Lloyd could read your mind, he gripped the back of your neck and towed you away from where you’d been draped against his chest so he could look you straight in the eye. “If you give me a few more minutes of peace and quiet, I promise we’ll spend the rest of the afternoon outside,” he said, his tone patient.

But you discovered in that moment that you were all out of patience of your own. You shot Lloyd a glare before you ducked forward and nipped his ear sharply with your teeth, using your cunt to squeeze his cock as hard as your inner muscles could, wringing a grunt from your husband. 

“I want to go outside now,” you hissed in his ear, knowing exactly what you were doing and knowing it was going to get a rise out of Lloyd. But that was exactly what you wanted.

Lloyd’s hand slipped easily from the back of your neck to the wrap around the front, his thumb and middle finger digging into your throat just beneath the cut of your jaw. He pushed you back enough so you could feel the full weight of his glower, but you only scowled at him harder.

“Did you really think that would work?” he asked, tilting his head to the side while he looked down at you. But you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel worried about the dangerous thread in his tone, not when your husband’s attention was finally fully on you. “Cute.” 

Then Lloyd was pushing you up by his grip on your throat, rising to stand with a dark look on his face that sent a shiver down your spine. You whimpered when you lifted off his cock, your body feeling unimaginably empty without him inside you, but your husband only snarled at your pitiful sound.

“You wanna go outside? We’ll go outside,” Lloyd muttered, spinning you around and bending you over the sill of the window behind his desk. It didn’t have a screen so your upper body hung out the back of the house, only your husband’s hand holding you around your throat preventing you from tumbling out into the garden. “How’s this, princess, is this outside enough for you?” Lloyd growled in your ear, curling his body over yours and pinning you to the sill.

But it wasn’t enough for you, not when your cunt was leaking with arousal and your inner walls were fluttering pathetically around nothing. “Need you inside me, husband,” you gasped out, squirming your hips beneath Lloyd’s bigger frame, like you could somehow find the tip of him and force him to drive his full length home.

“First you demand I take you outside, then you demand I be inside you,” Lloyd rumbled, his tone mean in that way that made your whole body clench and pleasure to flood your mind. “You’re needy today aren’t you, cupcake?” he asked mockingly, his free hand reaching between your bodies to grip his dick and slide the head through your soaking folds. 

You went weak and pliant beneath Lloyd when you were so close to getting what you wanted, your lips forming the first desperate words you could manage. “Yes, yes, so needy for your cock, husband, please give it to me, please, I need you to fuck me, oh god, Lloyd, please!”

With one furious thrust, Lloyd buried the full length of his cock deep in your cunt, the tip ramming against the end of you so hard that you shrieked in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Lloyd’s hand tightened around your throat, choking off the loudest of your sounds of pleasure while he curled over your body, his chest pressing to your back, his cock grinding deep in your cunt in a way that made your toes curl. 

“Good girl, angel, sound so sweet begging for your husband’s dick,” Lloyd rumbled, his free hand gripping your hip tightly while he pounded into you with short, deep thrusts, his thighs clapping against the backs of yours. “You didn’t need to be such a brat to get me to fuck you, just needed to beg for me.”

You were too far gone with pleasure to respond, but it occurred to you that Lloyd fucking you through the open window of his office was much better than the lazy picnic sex you’d envisioned for the afternoon. Glancing through the garden, you knew if anyone was around, they’d see the obscene tableau you painted, your husband fucking you over the windowsill, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when the brutal thrusting of Lloyd’s cock felt so exquisite, your cunt clenching down on him as your pleasure grew.

“Fuck, fuck, buttercup, your cunt feels too good, you’re gonna make me come,” Lloyd groaned, his teeth sinking into your shoulder while his hand slipped between your thighs, finding your wet, slippery clit. “Come on your husband’s cock, wife, show me what a good girl you can be with my dick buried deep in this pussy.”

Your orgasm hit you with the suddenness of a champagne cork popping, leaving you awash in wave after wave of dazzling pleasure. A scream tore free from your throat before your husband cut it off with his choking grip. Your body tightened beneath Lloyd, your cunt gripping his cock so hard, it set off his own release. He rutted into you, muttering about your perfect cunt and how you were so good for coming on his cock. 

Together, you rode out your releases together, your bodies writhing against the windowsill until you were both finally sated.

Carefully, Lloyd helped you back inside, and he collapsed into his office chair, his arm banded around your waist pulling you down into his lap and keeping you connected. You leaned heavily back against his chest, your body feeling boneless from pleasure, a satisfied smile curling your lips. 

Lloyd pressed a kiss to your cheek, the bristles of his mustache tickling your skin gently and making you giggle softly.

“Will you be a good girl and let me finish my work now?” he asked in a low, delicious rumble. 

You stretched out your arms and legs, your spine curving and pushing your chest out so Lloyd could see the way your nipples poked against the thin cotton of your sundress. Grinning like the cat that got the cream, you relaxed back into Lloyd’s lap, humming in contentment. 

“I think I can manage for a little while, husband,” you purred, but you tilted your head and caught his eye. “But only for a little while.” There was a warning in your tone that made Lloyd chuckle. 

“I wouldn’t dream of keeping you cooped up on such a nice spring day, wife,” Lloyd murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “At least, not for much longer.” 

True to his word, Lloyd finished his work soon after and, together, the two of you went out into the gardens for a late lunch. You ate the food you’d prepared for the picnic you’d planned, and then Lloyd settled between your thighs to devour you for dessert. 

You laid back on your picnic blanket beneath a shady tree in the garden of your home and let your husband worship your body. After all, it was what you deserved for being such a good wife, and his good girl, while he’d kept you cooped up for so much of the nice spring day.

[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part 19

Pairing: Spider-Man!Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader Summary: It's time. Word Count: 9.6k Warnings: angst; Miguel crying; mention of injuries; mention of death; mention of someone sacrificing their life; use of sedatives; Nonviolent Communication? More like Nonviolent [lack of] Communication Music (Spotify playlist): "Present" - Lloyd Vaan "Fade Into You" - Vitamin String Quartet "That Home" - The Cinematic Orchestra Masterlist A/N: Another update so soon? It's a Christmas miracle in October!

Part 19

Miguel tenderly gazes at you from his hammock, his pinky finger wrapped around yours. He feels a gentle breeze rustling his hair, a contrast to the warmth emitted from your hand near his. He can hear music and conversation taking place from afar, but none of that matters.

Miguel is so at peace right now, he even forgets that next week you’ll likely be moving out of the penthouse.

He simply focuses on the now, on this moment of tranquility with you.

Gazing at you, Miguel can’t help but think about how he’ll remember this weekend forever, even when he’s seventy. He’ll gaze at the moon and be reminded of tonight, how you’re sharing a thermos with freshly brewed coffee and holding each other’s pinky fingers under the moonlight. He’ll recall your whispered question about the children you were meant to have, but didn’t, and the way his answer seemed to satisfied your thoughts. He’ll remember the way you subtly lowered your arm, trying to play it off as nothing, and how he knew what you hoped, maybe even longed for: his touch.

His crimson eyes shining like rubies in the night gaze up at you one moment and the next they’re closed.

His eyes move rapidly under his eyelids, confused.

He opens them, but his vision is a blur. He’s suddenly overwhelmed with an ache all over his body, as if he hasn’t moved in days. Miguel repeatedly blinks, his mind trying to figure out what’s going on. He succeeds in clearing his vision, but the confusion remains.

Miguel was at the beach with you just now, hanging on a hammock below yours and holding your pinky finger, but now he’s here.

At an infirmary room.

Alone.

Miguel feels frozen for a second before he looks down at himself, finding his body clad in a hospital gown and laying on the bed. His confusion grows tenfold. Dread spreads throughout Miguel’s chest while he searches the empty and cold room he was in last year.

Why is he here? He was just on the hammock, his pinky finger wrapped around yours.

Where are you?

That thought has Miguel instantly sitting up despite the pain shooting through his body. His eyes search for you, for any sign of you in this room. He looks at the floor, the tables, and the uncomfortable chair you slept on last year pressed to the wall a few feet away. It’s empty, no sign of a pillow or blanket on it. He looks around once more, wondering where your duffel bag is at. It should be here somewhere, right?

Yet, Miguel finds nothing. No trace of you.

Where are you?

Where did you go?

The dread in his chest intensifies with every second, his mind a mess with thoughts. His heart rate shoots up, triggering an alarm that has the infirmary staff rushing through the door. In seconds, a doctor and nurses are at his side, trying to assess what’s wrong. They find the usual distant and stoic boss under distress.

“Why am I here? How did I get here? I was somewhere else,” Miguel says while they check the monitors, his voice filled with stress. “I was at the beach just now — with Dulzura. Where’s Dulzura at? Y/N?” he asks. “Where is she?”

“Sir, you need to calm down. Everything is okay,” the doctor replies in a calmly manner that only seems to frustrate Miguel even more.

“Where is she? Why isn’t she here?” Miguel continues to ask.

“We’re going to call Mrs. Jess and Mr. Peter B., alright?” the doctor replies, giving a subtle nod to a nurse on the other side of the bed.

“I’m not asking for either Jess or Peter. I’m asking you for Y/N. Just tell me where she is!” Miguel says, his voice rising out of frustration. All he wishes to know is that you’re here somewhere, somewhere close to him so the dread in his heart can cease.

Yet, the staff refuses to answer his questions and instead, fill his bloodstream with a drug.

“¿Dónde está? [Where is she?]” Miguel says softly, the sedative doing its job. “I was at the beach. I was with her,” he adds. “Dulzura?” he whispers, eyes fluttering. “Por favor, Dulzura… [Please]” he continues, his vision becoming blurry once more. “Stay…”

♡

When Miguel wakes up again, he detects voices in the room. For a few seconds, they sound far, far away.

He groans when he begins to feel the body ache all over again, still there. “Dulzura,” he says, voice hoarse.

“Miguel - it’s alright. We’re here,” a voice says.

“You’re going to be okay, pal,” another one adds.

“Where’s Dulzura?” Miguel manages to say, his eyes struggling to open. “Where is she?”

“Who’s Dulzura?” the second voice asks.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” the first voice says. “He never called Gabriella that.”

“Then, who… is he calling for?” the second voice questions.

“God knows what’s going on in his mind right now,” the first voice replies. “Look, his eyes are fluttering. Miguel? Can you hear us?”

At last, Miguel opens his eyes, groaning. He looks around, his vision blurry for a few seconds before they focus on the faces near him.

Jess and Peter.

“What - what happened?” Miguel asks, searching for you once more. He tries to spot your favorite blanket, the one you had over your legs just yesterday while reading a book in front of the fireplace at the bungalow, but he can’t find it. Your sweatshirt is nowhere in sight, too. There’s not even a hint of your scent in the air, as if you haven’t been here in days.

“You’ve been out for a few days, pal,” Peter says gently, eyebrows furrowed. “You took a lot during the fight trying to help Miles save his dad. By the way, he’s safe. They both are. And, we defeated the Spot, too.”

“Wh-what?” Miguel whispers, his mouth feeling dry. This makes no sense.

Jess sighs, giving Peter a look before turning to face him again. “We’ll explain everything, okay? But you need to remain calm.” With that, Jess tells Miguel everything. Peter listens, adding a few details here and there when necessary.

Miguel listens, his heart sinking and sinking with every word. His chest is filled with such a heaviness, he feels that if he was standing, he’d surely drop to the ground due to the weight.

How could it be? None of what Jess and Peter are saying makes sense, but according to them, Miguel has been at the infirmary for days after Miles and him, along with half of the Spider Society, worked together to save Mr. Morales and stop the Spot from unleashing chaos on the multiverse.

Miguel didn’t go unscathed, however. He was seriously hurt during the encounter, putting his life at risk for the sake of the multiverse and Mr. Morales’s life.

He thought it was only fair — even just — after being incorrect about the canon event theory. So, Miguel went into the fight ready to sacrifice his life. He had nothing else to give, nothing else to lose.

He was ready to lose his life.

And he almost did.

Apparently, Miguel did in fact die for a few minutes, but the infirmary team resuscitated him. Due to the shock and trauma his body received during the fight, it’s taken several days for Miguel to wake up.

“We’re glad to have you back, pal,” Peter says, donning that pink robe he’s been wearing since Mayday was born, but Miguel can’t force himself to care about anything right now.

He doesn’t care about what everyone has been doing around HQ over the last few days when Jess fills him in. He doesn’t care that everything is running smoothly. He doesn’t care about anything at all.

Both Jess and Peter watch him, giving each other subtle looks, though they’re sure Miguel wouldn’t even notice them if they were obvious ones to begin with. Miguel is distant, more than ever. His body may be here in front of them, but his mind is elsewhere. Far, far, far away.

They have no idea of the immense longing and pain the leader is under while he stares at the windows with the same sentences echoing in his mind over and over again.

It was all a dream.

You were just a dream.

You don’t exist.

Miguel was hurt badly, so much to the point he died for a few minutes, but that doesn’t affect his intelligence to figure it out. He dreamed of a life after the events with the Spot — a total of two years with you at his side.

He tries to swallow the knot in his throat while Jess and Peter converse, not knowing what they’re talking about. He tries to focus on the conversation, tries to pretend to be okay, but there’s a horrible, heavy feeling that grows and grows in his chest with every second, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

He puts on a facade.

He’s okay.

He’s okay.

He’s okay.

Miguel repeats the sentence, trying to make himself believe the biggest lie he’s ever told himself.

He keeps himself at bay, but he’s like a weak dam that finally crumbles when Jess and Peter leave.

It’s only in his solitude, in this horrible loneliness, within his cold and empty infirmary room, that Miguel’s chest heaves dramatically. His breathing speeds up, his chest heavy like lead.

His beautiful crimson eyes swell with tears, his vision becoming blurry once again. The knot in his throat never left, just temporarily paused. He feels it grow in this horrible and cold loneliness. It hurts. The knot in his throat hurts so much, giving him a burning and sharp barbed wire-like feeling. The thought that actual barbed wire pressed to his skin would hurt less crosses his mind before the devastating reality weighs down on him.

Miguel presses the heels of his hands against his eyes, sobbing his gentle heart out.

It has to be a nightmare. It has to be.

His lips tremble before a cry escapes from within.

How was he just there with you? Holding your pinky finger in his, in perfect solitude on the beach?

Miguel can almost taste the coffee you made just to enjoy on the hammocks. He cries at that, at how much you love coffee and the way your eyes seem to twinkle when he says he’ll make café de olla [coffee pot] just for you.

“God — “ Miguel says through his sobbing, his face tear-stained. “Please, please wake me up. I’ll do anything. Just wake me up from this dream — I beg you.”

But Miguel doesn’t wake up.

This is his life and you’re not here.

There’s no you.

You don’t exist.

Miguel cries and cries, until those crimson eyes can’t cry anymore.

He spends the rest of the day mourning and longing for you, the bitter truth crashing over him like rogue waves. He’s longing for someone he’s never met, someone he’s not sure exists, not even out there in the multiverse.

♡

Despite doctor’s orders, Miguel is back in the lab the next day. He stands on his platform, crimson eyes scanning over his screens. His platform is elevated all the way to the ceiling, where Miguel wishes to be alone and undisturbed. He wants to forget, but he cannot.

The lab’s counters are unorganized, parts and tools scattered about.

No one will volunteer to help organize them every week, Miguel knows that now. There’s no quiet conversation between you and Lyla, who asks questions about your comfort food or plans for the weekend.

There’s no hidden Mexican candy in the cabinets for you to eat. There’s no hidden scarf in his drawers with your scent interwoven within its fibers.

Miguel freezes.

Your scent.

Your soft breathing when you sleep.

Your voice.

He slumps over his platform at the realization, wincing at his wounds from the movement. He can smell it, somehow, even now. There’s no trace of it anywhere, but he can remember it and God, he holds on to it, desperately, like a man half dead clinging to life.

Miguel hears your soft breathing and voice then, plays it his head. He prays to God and every saint he knows he never forgets either sounds.

“Mierda [shit],” Miguel murmurs, a slight tremor in his voice. “¿Donde estás? [where are you?]” He wonders, his chest tightening the same way it does every time he thinks of Gabriella and his brother, Gabriel.

And he knows… He is mourning you just the same despite being made up.

“Dulzura,” Miguel whispers, eyes closed as he remains slumped over his platform. Images of you flash in his mind like a movie.

The time he found you sick in your apartment, passed out and in pain. He made pasta for you and cleaned up your space a bit, even fixed the cabinets of your kitchen.

The night of Día de los Muertos [Day of the Dead] while you looked at his ofrenda [altar], the lit candles which gave your face a gentle glow.

Miguel recalls the times you brought him lunch and coffee cups too small to actually do much to his body, but him accepting them nonetheless after months of your offerings.

He remembers the Christmas Eve when you showed up with food, looking nervous because you were in his penthouse for the first time. He remembers your look of surprise seeing him dressed in normal clothes for once.

All these images flash in his mind, all the way to lunches on rooftops and sleeping on his living room floor to putting together that puzzle of two butterflies in a meadow during the beach trip.

“Miguel?” Lyla speaks suddenly. “Are you feeling unwell?”

“No,” Miguel replies, straightening up. His voice is weak with a hint of harshness as an attempt to hide his true feelings. “I’m fine.”

He repeats that to himself.

He’s fine.

He’s fine.

He’s fine.

He pushes through the first half of the day, his mind and heart a mess.

Even as the days go by and turn into weeks since the situation with Miles, Miguel feels lost.

One morning after showering at the penthouse, he stands in the halfway to the bedrooms. He knows better than to, but he pushes the door open to Gabriel’s old room. Of course, it’s the same as it’s always been since his brother’s death.

Somewhere in his long and intricate dream, you stayed here in this room after a fire on your building. You made it yours with a lot of hesitance, your idea being that you didn’t want to be a ‘burden’ to him.

Miguel recalls telling you to stop thinking that. You could never be a burden to him.

But now you are, only because he must carry on living with the mere imagination of your existence in his life.

♡

Miguel’s stomach grumbles while he works. He’s tempted to ignore the hunger and keep working to avoid his thoughts, but then he remembers that you would’ve disapproved of that behavior. An image of you frowning in disapproval flashes in his mind. Even though it’s just an image and he now knows he somehow made you up, he still can’t find it in himself to be the reason for a frown on your face, real or not real.

He engages the platform to lower it, deciding to go to the cafeteria. He stares at the ground, arms at his sides, a feeling of defeat filling him.

In that moment, Miguel wishes he would’ve never woken up.

Miguel sighs heavily in desperation and sorrow. He covers his face with both hands. He would’ve blissfully stayed in that dream, where things were great with his best friend. He swallows the knot in his throat now, the feeling all too familiar, for Miguel has cried every day since he woke up.

Miguel clears his throat and wipes the beginning of his tears away before dragging himself out of the lab, even though all he wants to do is stay in that dark and empty space — alone. He doesn’t want to look at the spider members, who’ll probably continue to stare hoping for something from him after everything that happened with Miles.

His mind hasn’t even wrapped itself around that situation and how everything he’s worked for has turned out to be wrong. Then, there’s the loss of Gabby, his sweet little Gabriella.

And of course, there’s the loss of someone he’s never met.

You.

He should’ve never woken up.

Miguel walks out into a hallway, a few spider members greeting his sight. He avoids their eyes, unable to meet their gazes. His steps feel heavy as he walks down one of the many hallways of their base, memories of him and you walking together flashing through his mind.

You’re everywhere.

And yet, you’re not.

Miguel almost turns around and heads back to the lab, even if it means not eating. How is he going to manage to walk past the conference rooms where you both spent time together each week, talking over coffee before meetings started? He doesn’t want to gaze inside because he knows only the ghost of you on your unassigned assigned chair next to his will greet him back.

He makes it past them, but only because he keeps his gaze down.

Somewhere, he hears a door open and a new set of footsteps join him. He doesn’t have it in himself to look up, even though the footsteps sound familiar in the midst of his internal turmoil. He hears a gizmo go off, probably the other person’s. He looks up, only by instinct, and freezes as his eyes capture the smallest glimpse of someone’s suit as they turn a corner.

It’s the smallest, shortest glimpse, but it’s there.

The colors of your suit.

His breath gets caught in his throat and before Miguel knows it, he’s walking faster. He turns and enters another hallway, missing the individual once again as they turn the corner. However, this time, his gaze is much more focused, so he’s able to spot not only the colors, but also part of the design of the suit for a fragment of a second, causing his heart to race.

His steps are determined as he continues to walk, following the person’s tracks. He can’t help but feel like he’s chasing his lifeline, feeling more alive than he has in weeks.

He must be going crazy, Miguel thinks.

It’s foolish and yet, Miguel follows.

He enters the cafeteria, met with a buzz from spider members having lunch. He looks around as they walk in front of him, blocking his way. He wishes he could silence them for a second as his gaze searches for you in the midst of the crowd. He spots the colors of your suit again, straight ahead, and follows, ready to push anyone if he must.

Miguel sighs in frustration as he pushes past a group, keeping his eyes in the same spot as to not miss the individual.

“Miguel-” someone says.

“Not now,” he replies as he keeps walking, not even sparing a glance.

At last, there’s the individual. Their back is to him but there’s your suit. Identical.

“No puede ser [it can’t be],” Miguel breathes out as he keeps walking, not sure what he’s even doing. All he knows is that there you are, or at least it seems so and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t talk to you, his best friend.

His steps slow down as Jess steps into view, facing him. She says something to you just as her eyes find Miguel. He watches as she gives him a nod and says something else to you, or at least he thinks it’s you.

With his heart racing, Miguel keeps approaching.

“Miguel,” Jess says, acknowledging him verbally. “I’m glad to see you. I was about to go and look for you to introduce someone to you — someone I think would be a great asset.”

He doesn’t say anything as he comes to a halt, just five feet away from you, your back to him still. As if in slow motion, he watches you turn around and there.

Your face meets Miguel’s eyes, your reflection finding a home in them.

There you are.

You are real.

You exist.

Miguel stares at you, his heart racing. He feels his breathing pick up but this time out of gratitude, happiness, and so much more. You’re here. You’re real.

You look at him with those eyes he knows so well, but there’s no recognition in them. You don’t recognize him at all.

“This is Y/N,” Jess starts.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” you say with a nod, not even offering your hand. “I’d shake your hand, but Jess has told me you…” you trail off.

“I’ve informed her,” Jess says, referring to no physical touch.

Miguel stares at you, his heart in pain. You’ve called him ‘sir’ instead of by his name or the nickname you gave him, Migs.

He lifts a hand, his pinky finger out, hoping you know.

You blink at the sight, an expression of confusion on your face when you see the gesture. You glance at Jess, hoping for an explanation.

Miguel gulps. “You don’t - You don’t remember… You don’t know me?”

“Sir…” you say gently, confused.

“Dulzura,” Miguel says, looking at you. “You really don’t remember me?”

“Miguel — what are you doing?” Jess asks, confused and alarmed.

“You don’t remember when I found you sick at your apartment?” he asks. “All the times I made you café de olla? You don’t remember the night we said we had each other. Always?”

“I don’t know what - Jess what’s going on?” you ask, turning to her.

“Dulzura, please,” Miguel says. “I’m begging you. I can’t bear this anymore,” he continues, feeling like he could die right now.

“Miguel, you need to calm down, okay? Please, get something to eat and rest. You’ve been working too much,” Jess says. “You’re scaring the recruit.”

“She’s not just a recruit. This is Dulzura,” Miguel says, frustrated. “She’s my best friend,” he adds, hoping you will remember, but no matter what he says, neither you nor Jess believe him.

“Dulzura, please. Please tell me you remember,” Miguel whispers, tears swelling in his eyes. “I’ve missed you so much. I’ve thought of you every day since I woke up, please. It’s been weeks since I woke up in that empty infirmary room, searching for you. We went to the beach because you invited me, remember? We bought groceries the day before, went shopping together. We made red chilaquiles [Mexican dish] that first morning we spent there and some of our friends showed up. We went for walks and I gave you a seashell. Don’t you remember?” Miguel asks in distress, noticing the lack of recognition on your face. “We put together a puzzle and talked about parenthood. You made me realize I’m open to the idea of one day experiencing that and romantic love, even if I’ve accepted I might not get to. Please, Dulzura! Please, please, please! How do you not remember? Dulzura, Dulzura, Dulzura…” Miguel repeats, brokenhearted and crying.

Miguel sits up in bed.

He gasps for air, chest heaving in the night. There’s tears streaming down his face and he feels sweaty as he looks around.

“Dulzura,” Miguel whispers, and at the thought of you, the bed covers go flying. He's on his feet in a second, walking barefoot towards the hallway.

Please, please, please… Miguel thinks as he walks past the door frame. He's barely taken three steps when he runs into something.

Someone.

“Miguel?” your sleepy voice breaks the silence of the penthouse, gently killing that dread in Miguel's chest and replacing it with a calmness — alleviating his soul.

“Dulzura,” Miguel breathes out, before turning the light on in the hallway. He needs to make sure you're really here, that you’re not a figment of his imagination. Relief washes over him when the sight of you in your pajamas, looking sleepily at him, greets him. He instinctively steps closer.

“Migs?” you ask softly. “What's wrong? I heard you calling for me. Are you alright?” You search his body and face for signs of injury, but find none.

Miguel raises his hands, that relief taking over along with the need to touch you, to feel your body to fully confirm you’re in the flesh. He moves them closer until they're near your face, in a cupping form. His hands tremble.

“Migs?” you whisper, noticing his trembling hands, a sight that breaks your heart, and their proximity to your face along with how they seem to be ready to cup your cheeks. “Did you have a nightmare?” you ask gently.

Miguel nods. “One of the worst nightmares of my life,” he answers, his hands growing closer.

You watch intently, sleep fading away quickly due to Miguel’s trembling hands and the fact that he seems to be seeking physical contact.

And Miguel would’ve, if only Lyla hadn’t popped up out of nowhere.

“What’s going on?” she asks, looking around. “Oh, you’re awake?”

Miguel’s hands drop to his sides, realizing what he was going to do.

“I - what?” you ask, confused by the entire moment. Miguel was just about to cup your face and now you’re left here in the hallway with Lyla floating between you.

“What’s wrong, Lyla?” Miguel asks quietly.

“Your gizmo detected you talking while the recording you always play at night was active. It’s past three in the morning. It made no sense for you to be talking at this hour if you have the recording playing, so I figured you were having a nightmare, but I see you’re actually awake and talking with Y/N, so,” Lyla explains.

“It’s alright,” Miguel forces himself to say. “Everything is okay.”

Looking between Miguel and you, as if trying to make sure it’s true, Lyla nods. “Alright, have a good night, you two!” With that, Lyla disappears just as fast she appeared.

You blink softly and turn to Miguel, noticing a bit of perspiration and his tear-stained face. He still looks somewhat startled from his nightmare.

“Come with me?” you ask softly.

Miguel nods, already having an idea of where you’re both going.

A few minutes later, he’s sat on one of the chairs in the kitchen with you at his side. There’s a pot with water and a few cinnamon sticks on the stove and two mugs on the counter ready to be filled with sweet canelita [cinnamon tea].

You stay quiet to give Miguel a few minutes to gather himself, some time to calm down. You glance at his hands, noticing they’re thankfully no longer trembling, which puts you at ease. Earlier, you were still sleepy and startled by everything, but the sight of his shaking hands broke your heart. You wonder if he dreamed about Gabby again, about losing her.

You sigh quietly, deciding not to ask right now and continue to give Miguel a moment, at least until the canelita is ready.

A few minutes later, you silently pour the liquid into both mugs and add a bit of sugar, before returning to the counter with them. You place one in front of Miguel and offer him a smile, hoping to comfort him.

“Thank you,” Miguel says softly, tired. He picks up the mug and blows on it gently, accepting the kind and warm gesture.

You gently stir yours with a spoon, looking at him. “Always…” you reply softly, lifting your mug to your lips now and also blowing on it to cool it off a bit. After some seconds of debating internally, you decide to speak. “Do you want to talk about it?” you ask.

Miguel closes his eyes, feeling better now that he’s out of that horrible dream. His breathing has gone back to normal and his mind is clearer. He nods. “Yes…” he simply responds before Miguel tells you everything about his nightmare.

Despite looking better, his voice falters at some points, especially when he reaches the part where he saw you at the end but you didn’t recognize him.

“And then, I woke up,” Miguel says. “I was - I was - I had to make sure you are here… That’s why I was going to your room.”

You nod, your heart aching for Miguel. You can imagine what he felt — feels — when you place yourself in his shoes. You’d be hyperventilating if you had dreamed of that.

“I’m sorry you dreamed that,” you say softly, wondering what triggered it to begin with. “It was just a dream though,” you add, hoping to reassure him. “I’m here.”

Miguel nods, looking over at you. “I know, you’re here. Safe.” Miguel is eternally grateful for that.

“And that dream isn’t realistic because I would remember you,” you say, trying to lighten up the mood. “There’s no way I would forget about my best friend.”

Miguel slowly smiles for the first time since waking up. “You would still remember me?”

“Always. How could I forget you?” you reply. “You’re…” you smile and look away for a few seconds. “You’re one of the most important people in my life. My brain, maybe because of some unfortunate injury might for a short period of time, but… My heart will always know you, always remember you.”

Miguel’s smile widens, his heart filled with tenderness. He forgets all about his nightmare with your words for now, comforted. “My heart will always know you, too, Dulzura. In every universe.”

You both keep smiling before turning your attention to the drink, both feeling more at peace right now. The two of you take notice of the time. Like Lyla said earlier, it’s past three in the morning, almost four at this point.

Miguel and you silently realize something. You’ve been in bed for hours at this point, since ten to be exact, but only an hour ago you both managed to get some sleep. Nerves, disappointment, dread, and God knows what other emotions has kept the two of you up because of what awaits in a few hours.

Your return to your apartment.

After arriving back to Nueva York from the beach trip, Miguel and you finally talked about you moving out. You realized you needed to address it, or at least you thought you had to, so you did.

After discussing with Miguel that you’re moving back, which he accepted and understood, knowing it’s time, you both went to the apartment to clean it. He’s helped you deep clean the space and move some things around, trying to be a supportive friend. The only space left to clean is your living room and of course, you’ll have to unpack the belongings that are now sitting in Miguel’s living room, ready to be transported in a few hours back to your universe.

Despite your silent and respective realizations at the same time and the fact that you’ve only managed to sleep for an hour, if even that, neither of you mention anything about it. Neither of you share that you’re unhappy with the situation.

Miguel doesn’t want you to leave, to move back to your apartment, but he knows he can’t ask you not to. He knows how much the apartment means to you because of Peter and all the memories it holds. It’s a special place, Miguel knows that, so he won’t, even if he wishes he could.

Even if the words are threatening to spill at any moment from his mouth.

Next to him, you refuse to say what’s on your mind, too. You don’t want to move out, even if you love your apartment so much. You do, you really do.

You love your building.

You love your little apartment, its coziness and warmth.

But most of all, you love the memories made within those walls. The moments you shared with your family, back when your parents were alive along with Aunt May and of course, Peter.

Just days ago, you stood outside it on the street and saw phantom memories play in your mind, like a film. You saw Peter and yourself walking side by side chatting, grocery bags in his hands, and remembered how he always tried to hold most of them despite your superhuman strength. You watched the two of you enter the building, still talking. Up above, you saw the light from the living room turn on before images of Peter sprawled on the old couch, which is still stored in Miguel’s building, with you on top of him came to mind.

Within a few seconds, you found yourself physically inside your empty apartment. You stood in the living room, looking at everything you left behind. Miguel offered many times to help you take everything to his universe for the time being, but you declined each time. The things that truly matter are here at his universe right now, everything else you can do without.

You took a turn around the room, realizing.

You stayed here, despite the years, even when everyone moved on. Your former friends kept their relationships, or found new partners. Some of them even have children of their own. They moved on and you stayed here, in this lovely apartment building you happened to come across one day. It was pure coincidence and later that week, Peter and you came to check it out. The apartment had opened up and rent was good, perfect for two people fresh out of college. Shortly after, you moved in and hosted your housewarming party.

It had its details, its little flaws, but it was your place. Peter’s and yours.

And nothing sounded better than that.

But as you stood there a few days ago, you couldn’t help but see it differently. Something happened while you were gone and you don’t know what it was, not yet, but it felt different.

Different in a good way.

That’s all you knew in that moment before you remembered you had somewhere to be. After some time of debating and debating, you finally decided to give Harry Osborn a chance to be a part of your life again. You hadn’t seen him in weeks at that point because he was out of the country for some business, but with his return a few days ago and your own from the beach trip, you decided to say yes.

You sighed when you gave the space one more look, holding on to that feeling, before you slipped out, stopping outside the window. You glanced back, trying to decipher that feeling one more time.

You gave up and swung off without a second glance of that apartment building you came across so many years ago.

So, yes, you do love your apartment, but… You turn the mug with canelita in your hand. You’d be lying if you said you’re ready to move back. You swallow the words and take a drink instead, thinking it’s not right.

It’s not like Miguel and you can simply continue to live like this, right? You both have your own spaces and you don’t want to overstay, even if Miguel has told you many times that you’re welcomed. That his home is your home.

You both have your own homes, so it’s time for you to return to yours.

Right?

Right.

So, then, why are you both still disappointed?

Maybe it’s the lack of sleep. Maybe it’s the hour. Maybe these feelings will pass.

All Miguel and you know, respectively, is that the next fifteen or so hours are dreaded, but neither of you can say a thing out of respect for the other.

You both hide your true feelings about your move, thinking it’s the right thing to do.

Neither Miguel nor you say anything at four in the morning while drinking canelita. Not when you have breakfast together for the last time as his temporary roommate. Not when you both pick up your belongings and travel to your universe, knowing you’ve left a bedroom vacant of life once again. Not when Miguel and you deep clean the living room, move furniture around, and hang your pictures back again on the gallery wall.

Neither of you say anything, even when you order pizza for dinner after only eating sandwiches for lunch. At this point, everything is ready. Every single room in the apartment has been cleaned; surfaces have been dusted, the floors have been swept and mopped, furniture has been moved and found a new home within the space, and your belongings have been unpacked.

Your gallery of photographs is back. Peter’s record player sits on the bookcase and the records are back in its original spot. The box containing his belongings is back in the closet. Your clothes are in their appropriate spaces, though some laundry still needs to be done. Your personal hygiene items have taken residence in the bathroom and dresser once more.

Tomorrow you’ll just have to buy groceries to restock the now clean fridge.

You’re set to go, something you realize while having dinner with the TV on in the background. Miguel and you talk, avoiding your internal thoughts about this move, and opting to focus on other things — anything to forget that in a short while he’ll be leaving.

Yet, time reminds you both of the reality. The hours have flown by too fast.

When Miguel glances at his gizmo, he realizes he should probably head home now, but the truth is he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to leave you or your presence and go to an empty home that awaits him.

Noticing Miguel’s glance at his gizmo, makes you check the time yourself. You mentally wince. It’s getting late, and that only means Miguel will soon depart and leave you alone.

You push the feeling away, telling yourself that you shouldn’t even feel like this. This is your home after all. You should be happier to be here, to sleep on your old bed, not Gabriel’s.

Miguel frowns at the gizmo, it’s time.

“It’s late,” Miguel says slowly, noticing that his tone betrays his lack of enthusiasm to leave. “You’re probably very tired after all the cleaning we did. You should rest,” Miguel continues, telling himself to think of you. You’re probably tired and want to rest on your own bed at last after so many months of not doing so.

“I…” you trail off, wanting to say that you’re not tired, but you realize Miguel might be after helping you, and you don’t want to keep him up any longer. “Yes, a little.”

Miguel nods, your lie making him think he’s right about your exhaustion. He slowly stands up, straightening his top. He smiles at you. “I’ll let you rest, then,” he says, hesitantly reaching for his gizmo. “I’ll see you… tomorrow, maybe?” he says, not sure. Miguel realizes that he might not see you on both days of the weekend anymore, that you’ll both go back to your routines before the fire, in which you’d have Saturday dinners and see each other again until Monday at HQ.

“Yes, tomorrow. We can discuss what time to have dinner…?” you say, sounding more like a question as you stand, too.

“Yes, of course,” Miguel replies, nodding. He sighs and steps into a clearer area of your living room, opening a portal that takes him a few seconds to launch, not of out technical difficulties but because he’s stalling. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Rest, okay?”

Standing in front of him, you nod. You question why there’s a heavy feeling in your chest, one you don’t like, but hide with a smile. “I will, you, too.”

Stalling for several more seconds, Miguel finally takes a few steps back. “Bye,” he says, too softly, unwillingly.

“By-bye,” you say, stuttering a bit.

Miguel manages a smile, a small one despite his chest growing tighter. He turns around, forcing himself to or he might never leave. He stops himself from glancing back at you one more time because he has a feeling that if he does, he might just shut this damn portal and stay another hour. Or, two.

You watch gloomily as Miguel disappears into the portal, the sight obliging you to bite your lower lip because his name is at the tip of your tongue. You want to call out his name and ask him to stay another hour. Or, maybe two.

But you both refrain from doing what your bodies are begging you to do and in the end, you’re both alone in your homes with a portal that grows smaller and smaller unlike the heavy feeling in your chests.

You look around the apartment when the portal disappears entirely. This is home, but if it’s home, then why does it feel different? Something has changed in the space — something that now makes you feel like… It’s not yours entirely despite the furniture and memories you hold within it. You shake your head and decide to distract yourself with laundry, hoping it’ll help with that heavy feeling in your chest.

Back in Nueva York, Miguel gazes out of his living room’s windows. He sighs, noting the silence. There’s no music, no TV, no sound of your footsteps from somewhere - no sign of you here.

Miguel shakes his head. Okay, maybe that’s a lie. There’s traces of you across the penthouse because you helped him redecorate over the last few months. The penthouse feels better than it did in the past. There’s no denying that. It feels homier. He glances to Gabby’s altar, the candle flickering. That’s his favorite change to the penthouse, an addition you suggested on Gabby’s birthday.

There are signs of you in the penthouse, yet… Miguel turns around and faces the living room. Something left with you and now the penthouse feels different.

Miguel pushes the thoughts away. He can’t be thinking like this. It’ll do no good because it’s not like he can change anything about it. He can’t ask if you’re open to being roommates again, in a more permanent way. You love your apartment too much to leave it and Miguel would never ask you to abandon it, nor suggest some other kind of arrangement that involves you not living there. On top of that, you’re probably glad to have your own space again anyway.

He sighs again and looks at the time, realizing that just about now you’d be wishing each other a good night. His heart aches at the realization, knowing that you won’t be able to do that anymore, have that little endearing closure to the night.

“Shock,” Miguel says, realizing just how much your return to your own place is affecting him. He rubs his forehead, wondering how long it’ll take him to get used to this when his thoughts are interrupted by his gizmo. He hesitantly checks, hoping it’s not something from HQ because he doesn’t have the right mindset for it right now, but he finds your name instead and his heart leaps. He instantly opens the notification.

Dulzura Good night :)

He smiles, chuckling quietly to himself before he replies.

You sit on your bed, gizmo in hand while you wait. Of course you remembered that about this time you would’ve wished each other a good night, if only you were still there at the penthouse. You glance around the room again before laying down, the bed feeling strange now, too. A second later, your gizmo beeps, so you immediately bring it up to your face.

Migs Good night, Dulzura :)) sleep well

You smile, holding the gizmo close to you before you sigh. It’ll take some time to get used to this.

Miguel and you complete your night routines like every other night. You brush your teeth, wash your faces, and do the the rest of it as always until you get in bed, in respective universes.

You both lay to sleep, alone, in your homes.

That’s nothing new, of course. You’ve both slept alone for so long, but a loneliness creeps up on the two of you while you lay on your beds, unable to sleep. There was comfort, more than comfort, in knowing you were both down the hallway from each other — just feet away. Now, there’s universes between you.

You both try your best to sleep, but nothing works. For Miguel, not even your sweatshirt and the sound recording helps him.

Hours go by. You toss and turn, and do it again, and again, and again. Miguel wonders if you’re asleep now, then decides you must be. You’re sure Miguel is, too.

Another hour later and you can’t bear it any longer. It’s no use. You slip out of bed and change into your suit, placing your gizmo on your wrist. You leave your apartment a few minutes later in the middle of the night, ignoring the fact that you’re barely back at your apartment and for some reason leaving it in search of a distraction because you can’t sleep. You swing around your city, eyes scanning for a diversion of some kind. You almost wish there was a robbery.

Finding nothing, you stop on a rooftop and look through your gizmo. It’s past two in the morning and you’re here instead of home. You sigh and look around the empty rooftop before clicking on your gizmo again, quickly inputting information. A second later a portal opens. You step into it, leaving a rooftop just to step on another one.

You’re not even sure why you chose this dimension, but you find yourself on Earth-42, on top of the tallest building in the city where you once stood with Miguel to gaze at the city below and where you nearly lost him over a year ago.

You quietly walk around the area, staying clear of it because you don’t wish to sit where you found Miguel nearly dead, before sitting down with a huff.

“No sleep tonight,” you say to yourself, already giving up on the idea of getting some rest tonight. You slip off your mask, placing it on your thigh and lean back to observe the empty rooftop, surrounded by silence.

It doesn’t stay that way for long though. Your eyes widen when you see another portal open a few seconds later, making you wonder who’s stepping out. Your curiosity is satisfied a second later and you’re met with that familiar blue and red suit you know all too well, but the wearer of it even more.

Miguel steps out of the portal, his back to you. His eyes move across the rooftop, silently wondering why he even came here of all places. He decided to leave the penthouse a short while back and swung around Nueva York to distract and maybe tire himself out before deciding to travel here instead, something in his gut telling him to do so.

“Mi-Miguel?” you ask, causing him to turn around immediately.

His mask is disengaged instantly, his face revealed and indicating equal surprise. “Dulzura?” he says, walking immediately to you like a moth drawn to a flame. “What - what are you doing here? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Miguel asks, bombarding you with questions while his gaze searches your body for signs of injury.

“No, no, I’m okay,” you quickly reassure him, noticing the way his face relaxes at your words. “What are you doing here? Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything is okay. What are you doing here?” Miguel asks again, crouching in front of you now.

“I asked you the same thing,” you reply softly, trying to get Miguel to answer first because you’re suddenly too embarrassed to share that you couldn’t sleep, or rather, share the reason why.

Miguel mumbles something under his breath, not wanting to tell you his reasoning for being awake either. “I couldn’t - I had some trouble sleeping tonight,” he admits a few seconds later. “You?”

You sigh. “I couldn't sleep either,” you confess, looking down to fidget with your mask.

Miguel's eyes widen a little. For some reason, he didn't think that would be the reason for you being here, considering you hardly have issues sleeping. “Why?” Miguel asks softly, noticing the way you're avoiding his gaze. “Did you… have a nightmare?”

“Oh,” you glance at him again, shaking your head. “No, no, I didn't. I just couldn't sleep at all. I haven't slept even a bit. Maybe it's just, I don't know, my brain being weird,” you huff out. “Wait - did you have one?” You ask softly, remembering that about twenty four hours ago, Miguel was having that nightmare about you not existing.

Thankfully, Miguel shakes his head. “No, no nightmares for me. I just couldn't sleep,” he says, moving and taking a seat next to you now, leaning back.

“I'm glad to hear that,” you reply, genuinely relieved it wasn't another bad nightmare like the one he had several hours ago. You recall how Miguel’s hands trembled, the way he looked at you, and his erratic breathing. Of course, the fact that he almost cupped your face comes to mind, too. You wonder if Miguel would've gone for it, if Lyla hadn't popped out of nowhere.

You both sit there now, on that same rooftop Miguel nearly lost his life at over a year ago. Your eyes sweep across the city, staying silent for a few minutes before Miguel breaks the silence.

“May I be honest?” he asks softly.

“Always, please,” you reply.

“I couldn't sleep because I missed — I missed you and your presence,” Miguel confesses with some trouble, his cheeks feeling warm due to the revelation.

You turn to look at him, smiling slowly. “Already?”

“Already.”

“I missed you, too, Migs,” you admit, smiling.

Miguel smiles now, sleepily. “You did?”

“Yes, I did.”

“It's relieving to know I'm not the only one,” he says, comforted, but also touched that you've been missing him, too. “I’m sorry you haven't slept, though. Are you not tired?” Miguel asks, his eyes searching your face.

You nod now, feeling some exhaustion within you that wasn't there earlier.

Miguel hums, still staring at you and thinking about how you’re both far more comforted with each other on this open rooftop in the late hours of the night than alone in the safety and comfort of your respective beds. He smiles softly when he notices your gaze become more and more sleepy.

“Maybe we need to…” Miguel starts quietly, thinking. “Maybe we need — or should consider — something.”

“Something?” you ask before a small yawn escapes your lips.

“We’re on a rooftop, instead of at home,” Miguel states, raising his eyebrow.

You nod, realizing what Miguel is saying. You missed each other on the first night and found yourselves in another universe without even planning it because neither of you could sleep. You wonder if Miguel is thinking what you’re thinking about.

“What are you suggesting?” you ask, intrigued.

“We can discuss it tomorrow, or well, later,” Miguel replies gently with a smile, glad that you seem interested on this ‘something’, too. “How about we leave this place?”

Leave? That’s the last thing you wish to do now that you’re in Miguel’s presence, but you can’t just stay on this rooftop all night, can you? “Home?” you ask, disappointed.

“Home,” Miguel says, standing up in seconds and offering you a hand to help you up.

You accept it and stand up with his help, dreading going home. You’re likely just going to stay up anyway. However, you nod to avoid showing your disappointment, even when Miguel opens a portal for you. He gestures with his hand towards it.

“Alright, we can discuss the something else later,” you say, stepping closer to the portal.

“We can. When we get some rest,” Miguel replies gently as you walk further in.

“Right, okay,” you mumble. “After some rest.”

You sigh subtly and step into the portal, touching ground again a second later. You look around, eyes going a little wide. Behind you, Miguel steps out of the portal, too, and straight into his penthouse’s living room.

Home.

You turn around to face him, surprised, and Miguel can only give you a sleepy grin.

“You can go upstairs to your bedroom, or we can stay here in the living room,” Miguel offers, feeling sleepy at last. He very briefly recalls something Lyla said a while back. Something about important people in your lives bringing you comfort and making it easier to sleep. Maybe that study was right after all because he’s suddenly feeling sleepy within a few minutes of being in your presence after he spent hours laying in bed, tossing and turning, helplessly seeking sleep but not finding it. Despite feeling sleepy, Miguel realizes he’s still not ready to part ways, even if it’s just rooms apart.

“I’m still not that tired,” you lie, not ready either.

“Me neither,” Miguel lies, too. “So… Living room?”

You nod. “Living room.”

“Do you want something to drink?” Miguel asks. “I can make some canelita.”

Half an hour later, Miguel and you sit on the living room floor. This time, though, you’re both sitting on the same side of the coffee table. There’s blankets and pillows on the couch behind you for later, but for now, you talk while enjoying the warm drink — growing sleepier and sleepier in each other’s presence when you couldn’t feel even an ounce of sleep before.

“It’s almost fall,” you state sleepily before taking a drink.

“Almost that time of year,” Miguel replies, realizing it’s true. The summer will soon end, another season approaching your lives. “The best time of the year.”

You chuckle. “Pumpkins everywhere, cold weather, sweaters — the best time of the year indeed.” You yawn.

“You’re sleepy,” Miguel comments, glancing at you.

“I’m not,” you counter softly.

“Right,” he replies, amused.

“I’m not. I’m just — yawning.”

“Because you’re sleepy,” Miguel says, noticing the way you’re blinking to stay awake.

You hum. “Nope, I’m still wide awake.” You yawn once more. “Do you remember the puzzle we completed last week? At the beach?”

“Yes, of course,” Miguel replies, sleepily. How could he forget? You both discussed something so personal while putting it together.

“I think I’m going to buy some,” you share, eyes feeling heavy.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Do you want to, maybe, do another one with me?” you ask, half awake and half asleep.

“It’d be a privilege,” Miguel replies, gazing at you sleepily.

“Yayyy, maybe I can find a jigsaw of a thousand pieces.”

Miguel chuckles next to you, noticing the way you’re leaning back. “I’m sure we can put it together in two or three days.”

“That sounds reasonable,” you state, unwillingly succumbing to sleep. “I’ll buy some this weekend.”

“I can get some, too,” Miguel says, picking up his mug to take a drink and stay awake. “If you want to come along you —” Miguel stops talking when he feels something on his bicep. He turns, still holding his mug with the other hand.

His gaze softens when he realizes you’ve fallen asleep on him and now your head rests on his arm after claiming not to be sleepy only a minute ago. He quietly chuckles through his nose to avoid waking you up. After putting his mug away, Miguel gently pulls the blankets off the couch and places them over the two of you before he gets comfortable, ready to give in to his sleep, too.

He relishes the warmth of your body next to his, knowing that later today, maybe you’ll both agree to something because sleepless nights are no way to live. Miguel knows that better than anyone else. While the Miguel of two years ago sought those nights because they were a refuge from his nightmares, the Miguel next to you now does not. He’s open to staying up late to talk or watch a movie with you, or something of that sort, but staying up to avoid sleep and nightmares?

Not anymore.

Never again.

And so, Miguel finally dozes off next to you, sleeping peacefully at last and without nightmares of losing you.

Previous ⋅ ♡ ─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ♡ ⋅ Next

A/N: Ummm, this is weird...? I'm back already, so, hiiiii! Another update is here! I hope you don't hate me after the first half of this chapter 😔 it was just a dream! But hehe, thank you for reading!! Also, thank you so much for the lovely comments on the last update! I have yet to reply to everyone because I had the motivation to write this chapter and basically I've been doing this all day, but I'm so happy a lot of you enjoyed it and liked the latter part of the chapter!! :))

Thank you again so much!! See you very soon...!!😌

Alondra❤️

taglist:

@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp

@rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots @l3laze @yujyujj

@taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @damhanallagorm @heyohalie @kaliuea @moonsua1 @darksidescorner @geminis93 @1800-get-alife @hrrtkreuz @oharasfilipinawife @dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss @may4ri @t4naiis @f1-hoff @llumetrii @nina-from-317

credit for green divider to @/vysleix

[georgiapeach30513]

With Your Touch, Part 1

Summary: You were supposed to be living a normal life. Perfect boyfriend, just graduated college, and ready to start your new life. Until you met him. Brooding and imposing unless his daughter is around. You knew nothing about babies, but he knew less. Tension builds, feelings flare up, but are they just because he looks extremely sexy when he's soft? Could it be because you are falling for this princess of a baby girl before him? Is it because when he's in town you're too close? The money is good, and yet his attention is better.

Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Reader

Rating: mild

Warnings:  language, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.1K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Lloyd scowls as he watches the scene in front of him. The crease between his brows is extra deep. He hates working in the field almost as much as he hates watching it. Idiots. He was surrounded by incompetent idiots.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His fist slams on the table. How many shots have to be fired before they secure their target. “He’s right fucking there! Shoot his ass!”

“Lloyd,” a timid man says behind him, and Lloyd’s eyes never leave the monitors. “Mr. Hansen?”

“I don’t want to do this myself, but I fucking will! Levinson, get ready to go!” More rounds of bullets, and still the target was missed. “What the fuck is this?”

“Lloyd!”

His body goes rigid as he turns to look at the small man who is shivering. Eyes downcast to the floor so he doesn’t look at the towering man. “Why the hell are you addressing me?”

“We have a problem.”

“No, shit, Sherlock. I have two teams of mercenaries after one target, and he’s not been shot. What the fuck else could be wrong?” He leans over a bit looking at the man. “Well?”

“Who the hell brought a baby?” Ari asks, staring down at a pitiful little carrier. An envelope beside the small bundle, and her bright green eyes stare up at the large man. “This isn’t bring your daughter to work day,” her face cracks a moment as she searches his face. Lips puckering out before a scream radiates through the makeshift office. “Make it stop!”

“Where the fuck did a baby come from?” Lloyd snaps a finger at another man to take over the original issue at hand. He just needs the target killed, and he can go home for a bit. “What is this?”

Ari’s hands slap on the side of his head covering his ears, but his foot tilts the carrier to rock it a bit, but still she wails. Seeing how no one attempts to help out, or get the baby to stop, Lloyd assumes this is something he’s going to have to take care of. What else was new? Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he leans down to grab up the letter. Crumpling it up before looking down at the baby. “Mother fucker.”

Your fingers run over the empty shelves in your dorm room. Graduation has finally happened, and now it is time to leave your mark on the world. Your father didn’t bother to show up for your graduation because why would he? He never showed up personally in your life. Not really. He always made sure that everything was paid for though. It could be worse, right?

You try not to complain about your father, or your family. You had more than most and should be grateful. But then some people had attention. Sighing, you grab up your bag, and look towards the door.

“Chase,” whispering, you walk over to him, and lay your head on his chest. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I don’t know why you feel so attached to this dorm room, honey.”

“Because it was my home,” you’re sure he didn’t fully understand, which was okay, you never bothered to explain. You kept your family dynamics quiet. He never asked why you were so quick to visit with his family for the holiday, just enjoyed you being there.

His warm arms wrap around you, and he holds you in a tight embrace. He wasn’t quite comfort, but he is sweet. He means well, and did what he could for the information that you provided to him. But this dorm room was the closet you had to a home. You had good memories here. Friends that were more like family, and now it’s gone.

You groan when the stupid sound of your absent father’s ringtone sounds off. Maybe he is actually calling to congratulate you for wasting his money on a degree that he deemed pointless. He. It probably wouldn’t matter what you did, it’d never be good enough for him.

“You gonna get that?”

“Do I have to?” You complain looking up at Chase. His mouth lifts to the side, and he nods his head. He is right. You should talk to him and quit hiding. You didn’t know what he was going to say or do. “I’ll be waiting in the car.”

“So the kid is yours?” Ari looks down at the car seat, watching the little baby cry, no one attempting to soothe or comfort her. Lloyd squats down and rubs his thumb over her cheek, and she struggles to breathe from her tears. “Are you going to hold it?”

“Can you stop referring to my daughter like she’s a thing?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Ari answers sarcastically. “Then pick her up. What is her name?”

“Clara told me to name her. She didn’t bother naming her. What…what do I do?” He looks up at his friend, showing the tiniest bit of emotion. “I don’t know anything about babies.”

“Start by holding her.”

“You hold her,” Lloyd is a lot of things but nurturing is far from one of them. He was a man that didn’t make mistakes, but clearly, he messed up somewhere. Of all the women he had been with only one was he stupid enough to knock up. But the way Lloyd is staring at her would suggest he almost wanted a baby.

“This is so fuck…this is so stupid. Clean up your mouth. She isn’t old enough to talk yet, but she will be,” Ari gets down to his knees, starting to remove the straps over her body. “She’s a pitiful little thing. Shh, girlie, you’re scaring your daddy before he’s properly got to look at you. There ya go,” he coos, holding the tiny girl up against his chest. Her cries soften a bit. He wonders when the last time she felt loved, because her body moves around feeling more of him.

“What’s wrong with her?” Both Ari and Lloyd’s noes turn up in disgust as they smell her. “She’s not been bathed?”

“That’s poop, Lloyd. We can’t have a baby here,” that is something Ari is certain of. Not only was this not a place for babies, he didn’t want to have to smell the baby smells.

“I didn’t ask for the baby. She was dropped on the mother fucking steps. Clara. I’ll kill that dumb trollop. Never trust desperate women. She doesn’t want money. She just didn’t want the baby. And I need her to have a name, so I’m not just calling her the baby. Ari, name her.”

“I’m not naming your spawn. She’s born of you, you name her. And my god, you gotta change this diaper, and figure out what you’re going to do in order for us to not have to deal with a baby like this. What the hell do you want?”

Lloyd turns to look at one of the analysts standing in the doorway. His thick rimmed glasses, and quiet demeanor made him one of Lloyd’s favorites. He was trustworthy, and smart. Quick. One of the few people Lloyd didn’t want to strangle. “Roman, what do you need? We’re dealing with someone.”

“You need an au pair.”

“What the hell is that?”

“It…it’s someone that will live in your home, and care for the child. They could teach them another language, and…”

“Sounds like a wife. Do I get to fuck them? Does she talk back to me?” Roman shakes his head no, wanting to say more, but doesn’t want to risk his job. He had the perfect person to help Lloyd with his little problem. “Where does one find an au pair?”

“I know someone that just recently graduated, and she speaks French. She has a degree in art history, and…”

“I need her at my house immediately,” Roman acts as if he’s about to say something until Lloyd cocks up a brow, “I will pay her handsomely.”

“You’re keeping the baby?” Ari’s answer comes in the form of Lloyd reaching towards the baby. Turning up his nose at the stench, but he holds her gently. Tenderly. He gives her a quick peck on her head. “He’s keeping the baby. Roman, call whoever. Sounds like the amount of money is not an issue.”

Staring up at the posh apartment buildings, and squeezing Chase’s hand, you wonder how you even got here. Your father didn’t do anything but give you money. You didn’t even know him. Didn’t know what he even did to make the money. And now you are taking orders from him. Allowed him to make you feel like shit for your education.

“You don’t have to listen to him,” Chase says calmly. Slipping his hand out of yours, he turns to look directly at you. “You’re a grown woman, you don’t have to listen to what daddy says.”

“Don’t call him that,” your father didn’t earn that name. That’s exactly what you called him, father. “I mean look at it, there could be worse places to live.”

“Yeah, and you’re caring for a child that isn’t yours. And where’s her parents? How often will you have this child?”

“I’m going to live with them.”

“That’s another thing, I don’t exactly like the idea that you live with them. Who are them?”

“It’s a need to know basis,” you mumble. Finally finding your footing you take a step forward. It was now or never and it seemed like it was going to be now. What did you actually have to lose? This was a guaranteed job. It’s not like you had to stay. The pay was great. And how hard could one baby be?

You were going into this job with a house, great pay, and it seemed somewhat cushy. “You’re just going to be giving another child a life without their parents.”

“And just think where I would have been without my nanny,” you spit out, feeling a bit more protective of a child that you haven't met. It wasn’t her fault anymore than it was yours. Children should be loved and taken care of, and that’s what you are going to do.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know you didn’t. You don’t have to go with me if you don’t approve,” sighing, Chase follows you as you walk into the building. Following the exact instructions you were given from your father. You didn’t know what you were walking into. It was just a job after all.

Neither you or Chase say another thing. He definitely could feel your irritation at the need to insert what he thought he knew about your life. Your life wasn’t horrible. You just didn’t have your parents. Especially not your father. He had a business. And whatever he did afforded you a charmed life.

Seems like this child was getting the same treatment. And if you could give her the life that your amazing nanny gave you, then you feel like you’re giving it back. You didn’t see yourself as a teacher, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. And it was just one small baby. Eventually she would be going to school, and that’s if you even stayed that long.

Attention was everything when it came to children. If you said no, and this was apparently an emergency, what would happen to this child? Every child deserves a good life.

You don’t fully bother knocking on the door. Just punch in the code to the apartment, and Chase tugs at your arm. He isn’t as comfortable with this as you are. Your father gave you the code, Lloyd didn’t want you to knock, he wants you to make yourself comfortable. Your eyes go wide as you look around.

You could see the house at one point was pristine, but now it’s chaotic. Empty boxes are everywhere, but all of them seem to be items for the child. Your father told you she was a baby, but not how new she was. Tiptoeing deeper into the apartment, Chase pulls you back into him.

“Announce yourself. This is weird.”

“Mr. Hansen?” The sweetest little baby gurgle comes from the next room, and you look up at Chase. “That’s a real baby, handsome. Can I go meet my employer now?”

“I’m right here. Scream if you need me.”

“Mr. Hansen?” You ask again, looking into the first room. It is an even bigger disaster. Stuff was everywhere. The room has so much potential, but why does everything seem new? “Mr. Hansen, do you need help?”

He needs a lot of help. Could barely tend to his own child. His movements seem very rigid and unsure of himself. “Yeah, I think she peed. She has on the diapers that change color when wet, but…I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I babysat a few times,” it’s a bit of a stretch. They weren’t babies. But you’ve seen some movies. Read some things, “Let me see. Hey there, cutie,” she looks like she could break hearts. She is angelic. Chubby little legs, and the biggest dimples in her cheeks. Completely toothless with the prettiest bright green eyes and long lashes. “I think you’ve overwhelmed your daddy. Did you recently just get custody?”

There had to be a reason for this mess. But he went and spent a ton of money trying to give his daughter everything she needed and could ever want. “I just recently found out about her,” that took an unexpected turn. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t have the time to really devote to her, but I don’t want her to do without, and…I’m in over my head.”

So he was a bit like your father. But he seems to currently be more hands on than your father was. It was cute, in a completely not weird way at all. Lloyd was older than you. A full grown man while you had only just graduated college. “I’m not an interior designer, but I know some. The apartment is a mess, I’m aware. Lyla needs so much, and this place was just here. I never took the time to do anything. So me and my partner ordered everything we could think of. I don’t think she needs everything we got, but she could. She has her bed, and her diapers, and there’s a box of formula and food in the kitchen. Her food should be there, right? I don’t think she plays with toys yet, but there’s some somewhere.”

“Is this a Dior stroller?”

“I was told it was a pram,” you stare at him, trying not to giggle. The fact that it was Dior was the more silly part. “I can’t do what I do and have her there it’s dangerous.”

“What do you do?”

“Don’t ask,” the look he gives you makes you take a step back, gawking up at him when you realize his size. He is tall. Arms that are thick and hard as steel. His shoulders are wider than your entire body, “Lyla will be provided for, and because of that so will you. Whatever you need. I’ll leave a card for you. I won’t be able to personally get all your…well, all your needs. So this seems like the best option.”

“My needs? Like food?”

“Uh, I know that you women have things you need,” he’s an idiot. “I’ll give you a check, so this looks legit, but I can provide all your special woman needs,” huge idiot.

“Yeah, I can get my ‘womanly needs’ with my paycheck. Do…how often are you going to be here if I’m living here?”

He puffs out a bit of air, and he fully gives you attention. His daughter now has a changed diaper, and he cradles her sweetly. Some stupid expensive silver teething toy in her mouth, and his eyes roam over your entire body. He’s a bit too handsome to be a father, and one that just so happened to be your employer. His eyes are too blue, and his arms look too thick, and you gulp, clenching your thighs together. What the fuck was this witchcraft?

“Every night if possible. I typically work remotely, but sometimes I do have to go out of the country, and that leads to a few days to a week without me coming home to you and Lyla,” is he smirking? You shouldn’t feel so small and taken aback, but your stomach erupts with annoying butterflies with how hard he’s staring at you.

“Would you like to see your room? It’s next to the baby’s. My bedroom is in the front of the apartment, just off the living room. So I’ll be the first to the door. Absolutely no one in this apartment. I don’t trust people. Especially not around my child, and I guess now you come into my protection. If you need to know the apartment is in another name. I have a tendency to create a lot of enemies, and I try to keep things here as safe as possible.”

Lloyd freezes when he hears Chase sneeze. Handing you the baby, he covers you and her with his body in such a quick motion it takes your breath away. Your loss of breathing had nothing to do with his weight digging into your skin, and you surely don’t let out an odd sound that has him giving you a quick wink.

“That would be my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend? Roman didn’t say anything about a boyfriend.”

“Roman doesn’t even know when my birthday is. Do you have a problem with Chase being here?”

“What kind of name is Chase?” With your free hand, you shove him off you. You didn’t need him that close to you. “Honestly, what kind of name is that? And I said nobody visits.”

“You just told me that. He traveled here with me because he didn’t trust that I was coming to some apartment with some weird man that lured me here under false pretense just so he could murder me.”

“I don’t lure women here. This is a safe space for my daughter. I need you to make him leave,” Lloyd didn’t need to lure women. When he wanted a woman he could have one. And wanting a woman led to him becoming a father.

“But I don’t want to be here alone with a baby that can’t talk,” his eyes narrow at you. It is like you and Lloyd are playing a tit for tat game. Going back and forth of why Chase shouldn’t be here, and why you need him here. “He has a job. He works at an IT firm. Would you really want me here alone and by myself? What if someone comes here to attack me? Then Lyla is left all alone.”

“I’ve taken precautions that this would never happen. When you’re on the clock, Lyla is your only priority,” that made you feel slightly uneasy. You had to make a note to check the neighbors. Getting a feeling that someone was tasked with watching and listening to you and Lyla.

“When am I off the clock?”

“When I am here. Unless,” he gives you that eat shit grin again, shaking his head. Is he actually flirting with you, “I shouldn’t say that, sunshine. So what should Lyla call you? Nanny seems a bit too old and mature for someone sweet like you.”

“Why not my name?” He contemplates that for a moment, looking down at his little baby who stares up at you. If babies could talk, you wonder what she is thinking of.

“Dolly.”

“What?”

“I want her to call you, Dolly. Her Dolly. Ooh, yes, I like that. Let’s see what I should do about this boyfriend,” spinning on his heels Lloyd walks down the hallway, stopping the moment he sees Chase. Your boyfriend stands up immediately, holding out his hand for Lloyd to shake.

“I don’t like you.”

“I’m sorry?” Chase looks towards you holding the baby, and takes a quick gulp. Lloyd’s eyes go between the two of you before sidestepping in front of you. His wide body blocking Chase from looking in your direction. “What is this?”

“Chase, let's get something straight, when I’m not here, Dolly is on the clock.”

“Her name isn’t Dolly.”

“When I’m here, I’ll allow her to come and go as she pleases, but just like Miss Dolly, I need to get a background check on you. I don’t want just anybody to have access to my daughter, and her au pair. And absolutely under no circumstance will you be sleeping under my roof. This is my home, and my daughter’s, and I don’t need stupid boys coming in here and tainting that,” he turns to look at you. Giving you no time at all to process exactly what he is saying. He couldn’t be serious.

“Remember, I own your father. I also own you. I’m offering you money that you can’t refuse because he just cut you off, and you’re used to a certain lifestyle. I’m providing that for you. And I don’t want limp dicks in my home. Have I made myself clear?”

“You can’t do that.”

“I can do whatever I want, Dolly. I’m Lloyd fucking Hansen. If I want to cut every single finger off your father’s hands, I will. You can either have me as your employer or your enemy. And if you walk out that door with that boy, you will be my enemy. I’m not saying you can’t date him, I’m saying I don’t want him in my house or around my daughter. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes,” his head tilts forward, and his piercing blue eyes give you a look. A look you can’t exactly explain, but it makes you feel things. Makes you ready to do whatever it is he told you to do. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Get rid of the boyfriend.”

“But you’re here.”

“And so are you. There’s no need for him to linger around, while you move in. This is just an introduction, sweetheart. I need to walk you through all the boring stuff about your job. I’ll pay you extra if you get Lyla’s bedroom situated. This place is a complete disaster, and I can’t stand it. Get rid of him,” reaching towards Lyla, he walks back down the hallway to her room, and you give Chase an awkward smile.

“Come on, he can find someone else to be the au pair.”

“I need to see this through, Chase,” he tries interrupting you. Like he usually does, but you shake your head. You did need this job. None of the other places you applied at have called you back. “I need this job. It won’t be forever. And once I get settled in, and have my first day off, I’ll spend it with you.”

“You’re really going to let him talk to you like you’re his property?”

“No, I’m not. But I see myself in that little baby, and she needs me. He doesn’t know what to do.”

“Do you?” Nope. You had no idea about babies. You didn’t even have siblings. But your bags that were in Chase’s cars had a few books with some ideas on what to do. You’d figure it out along the way. Plus, you had this odd desire to understand your dad’s job, and also what exactly Lloyd did. How did a man that instilled so much fear in you also have a soft spot for his daughter?

“You’ll call if you want to leave? No questions asked, I’ll come and get you?”

“No questions asked,” you promise, kissing his lips softly. His hands cup your ass, and Lloyd glares at him down the hallway. How did Roman allow you to grow up and be disrespected in a stranger’s home? You allowed him to kiss down your neck, and neither of you even knew he was watching.

Lloyd would never let Lyla be treated like that. He wished he could make her not get any bigger. He liked the idea of having a woman in his home. Even if it wasn’t the way that a traditional family had it, who knew what the future held. You wanted to please him. Even told Chase it was time for him to leave. He still had it.

Chase pulls off your neck, and notices Lloyd watching you. His hands slip into your back pockets, and he gives your ass a bit of a squeeze, “Who’s girl are you?”

“I’m yours, Chase. Now go on, I’ll call you later,” his eyes flick over to Lloyd, who ventures into Lyla’s room. Going to lay her down for her nap as he tries to think of ways to get rid of Chase. He is an asshole. A cocky one at that. Unfortunately he reminded Lloyd of himself. And there is only enough room in your life for one asshole.

Next

Masterlist

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[steviebbboi]

Demon's Devotion

Pairing: Incubus!Lloyd x F!Hunter!Reader

Word Count: 6.2k~

Summary: A deal that should have been black-and-white has suddenly become grey. Swapping souls means swapping places. You just didn't think that meant to spend eternity with him.

Disclaimer: This is my submission for @yenzys-lucky-charm & @sweater-daddiesdumbdork Horny Hootenanny writing challenge~ sincere thanks to lovely Yenzy and Amber for being the gems that they are <3 I'm also going to submit this into my own writing challenge (lol) Stevie BB 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge . Anyone is welcome to join~

Dividers and banner by me :)

***I don't give any permission for this to be reposted anywhere! Pls do not steal work, plagiarism isn't cute~~~~

Warnings/Triggers: 18+ Minors DNI; dubcon, non-con, softdark!Lloyd (but mainly dark tbh), mentions of death, very slight slight mentions of infidelity, drugs, alcohol, Reader has low self-esteem/self-worth, demonic manipulation(?), Latin dialogue (cannot claim accuracy!).

Tropes/situational prompts: fantasy/supernatural AU, the villain/monster has feelings (or thots) for you

Kinks: size, cockwarming, belly bulging, praise, possessive, squirting, corruption.

Seasonal prompts: meeting a demon/ghost/witch on All Hallows Eve

Smut dialogue:  "You gonna be good for me?" + "I'm gonna make you mine" + "you love it like this, don't you?" + "If you only knew the things I want to do to you" + "Tell me you're mine" + "You wanted my attention, now you have it" + "Please! I can be good. So good for you. I promise" + “You belong to me now” + “Look at that, I think I broke your pretty brain, made you all dumb for me” + "Just a little more" + "Look at how good you're taking me" 

Other kinks: mild choking, spanking, overstimulation, dumbification; degradation, thigh fucking, dacryphilia, aphrodisiac/demon trance (if I missed any TW, feel free to lmk)~

A/N: this is the first time that I'm writing Lloyd too so I hope I did him some justice. Also, mild references to the tv show Supernatural (I do not own the lore of TGM nor Supernatural)!

The wood was splotchy– and itched against your skin uncomfortably as you sat on your knees. The ‘devil’s trap’ was intact as you leaned over to complete the chalk-circle. Quickly gazing over the symbol to ensure the correct sigils, you leaned back once more to close your eyes and take a deep breath. You tried your best to calm your body and connect with that part of you justifying the reasons behind calling upon a demon.

“Promise me that you won’t do anything stupid.” 

You cringed as you heard your ex’s solemn request echo in your thoughts. Yet again, you made a promise that you couldn’t keep. But this time, it was for his life. His soul. Your relationship was never perfect, and that’s certainly what nipped your romantic relationship in the bud, but you’ve known each other for so long…you couldn’t let him go through with it.

Broken promises was the cycle of your romantic relationship together – whether it was infidelity, drugs, alcohol, all the way to the end of the spectrum where it would also be just him going on extensive hunting trips without proper communication. 

You both knew that the relationship was doomed when it started. He wasn’t capable of showing up for you the way that you were ready to do for him. You knew that, that’s why you ultimately ended the relationship. 

And yet, here you sit in a mildew-infested, smelly, abandoned church on All Hallow’s Eve - ready to trade places with him. 

He was meant to do a lot of good in the world. He was a good hunter, a good brother, and a good friend. He was the main character in a story that you weren’t meant to be a part of, and that’s fine. You didn’t belong in his arc. You were a side character that had a stunted narrative for a while, but didn’t belong nor play any significance into moving the story forward.

When you heard the news about how he made a deal with the crossroads demon, it suddenly clicked on how you could actually do something worthwhile. You knew that he experienced a loss, a real hit from what you’ve heard. They fell in together not long after you both ended your relationship. While that fact spared no pain on your end, you did your best to stuff it down as he obviously loved her enough to have made that deal for her life. So you did what you did best, extended light and support through your pain. Feeling so selfish to have even felt a mark of bitterness.

A hunter’s life is a grim one. Everyone knows that any relationships that you do end up having either end in misery or in blood. But the value of something light and wonderful like love was tempting for people in the life. But, it always seemed to have a cost.

You were a shit hunter, maybe a mediocre person, but maybe, just maybe, your life could have purpose by doing this one thing. 

Something that just makes the pain that you have endured worth it. 

It was that purpose that hardened your resolve. Any lingering doubts solidified into genuine acceptance as you relaxed your body and invited a deep breath, “I summon you, anima daemonium. Anima obscura, i vocare te.”

You repeated the command two more times until you finally felt it. A warmth that seemed to grow steadily hotter which had you hiss in pain as you felt the sordid temperature through your jeans. The chalk circle in front of you started to beam this blinding, white light that illuminated the dark vast space for a few seconds. Your eyes couldn’t hold open for too long as you scrunched them closed in alert from the sudden, bright visual. 

The air in the room became thin and you could feel your lungs expanding to fill them up with as much air as you could with your breath falling heavier with each silent minute that passed. The silence was consciously loud as you looked around the still empty dark space. 

“Hmmm…now what’s this?” 

You heard a low rumbled, amused voice come from behind you. Your heart was beating so fast and you could feel your stomach just plummet to the floor. He was supposed to manifest within the circle…if he bypassed it like that completely, that meant that he was no ordinary crossroads demon.

A deep and intense fear rose up in your throat as you attempted to ground yourself out of your frozen state. You could feel your body tremble as you slowly turned your head to look over your shoulder only to find a looming, darkened figure standing directly behind you. Your gaze drifted upwards to find the identifying face to the haunting voice and you couldn’t hold back the gasp that left your dry lips. 

He was…human. A tall silhouette that exuded an air of danger and allure. His skin seemed to absorb the light around him, contrasting sharply with the piercing, smoldering gaze that flickered an ice blue in the dark. A chiseled jawline gave him an almost otherworldly handsomeness, while his full lips, donned with a daring mustache, curved into a knowing smile that hinted at secrets best left unspoken.

Your confusion to his form, and his looks, felt like an aside as you took in this almost invisible yet loudly formidable being standing over you. 

“Who are you?” Your lips moved faster than your brain could register any coherent thoughts. Your curiosity peaked the moment that you saw him appear in the space.

The handsome demon merely chuckled at your confusion before indicating towards his own body. “This meat suit? Mmmm, not too sure. A poor, unfortunate soul shrouded in his own darkness enough for me to climb into him and take over.” A resounding smirk followed his explanation as he narrowed his gaze at you with an interest that you couldn’t place.

You could only stammer out, “B-but, you’re h-human?” You looked over his figure again as he donned an unorthodox causal fit that you would never have pegged a demon, or honestly anyone, to wear. But with the way that he carried himself, the demon’s confidence was palpable. He was comfortable in this physical form, that’s for sure. The power that was exuding from him was staggering.

The demon cooed at your naivety, “Oh, sunshine. You have no idea who you’ve called and what you’ve just done, do you?”

He moved with a grace that was both mesmerizing and predatory as he knelt down to meet your petrified stare. There was an intoxicating aura about him, a magnetic pull that made it impossible to look away, even as a primal instinct warned of the peril he represented. His presence was electric, a heady mix of danger and desire, making it clear that this was a being not to be trifled with—a seducer cloaked in darkness, where charm and menace intertwined seamlessly.

You’re frozen in place in dual fear and pure fascination as he leaned forward into your personal space to clutch your chin with two fingers, prodding up your face for his invasive inspection. You weirdly felt awkward as you knelt before him under his scrutinous gaze. Piercing blue eyes were washing over the features, nooks-and-cranny, details of your face. Every so often, he would tilt your head to the side to inspect your profile, all the way down towards your kneeling body, and just smirk.

After 5 minutes of his torturous appraisal, he let go of your chin suddenly only to lean closer to your face. His pointed nose brushed yours so lightly, you couldn’t help the urge to look down at his mouth, feeling the hairs of his mustache graze your skin. But you could also see and almost feel the softness of his pink lips. His smirk grew on his face as if he figured something out as he turned to brush said lips against yours very faintly, almost teasingly. 

You gasped at the unexpected contact and a haze washed over you that you didn’t question and felt compelled to close your eyes. Almost as if you didn’t, you would pass out from the intensity of the contact of the potential of his kiss. You leaned in slowly as your mouth was almost waiting for the pressure of his teasing brush…but it never came. 

Coming back to yourself, almost like out of a trance, you gasped harshly at noticing the proximity between the two of your bodies and pushed against his chest to sit inside of the chalk circle to gain distance. 

Breathing heavy at how close you just were to this supernatural inane being, you cursed yourself for letting yourself get entranced into his allure as it hit you.

“You’re an incubus.” A sneer was released unconsciously at the realization. The demon’s smirk only softened at your disdained use of the term and his only response was to deeply hum in confirmation.

“I suppose that is one name that people know me by…but I sense that you may not be so comfortable with that. How about we go with…’Lloyd’?” He proposed as he stood up with his hands in his slack-pockets. 

You ignored his comfortable jeering to stand from your coveted position within the circle. “I didn’t call for you, incubus. I’m here for a crossroads demon.” You clarified sneeringly.

“And yet again, another name that people may know me by.” Lloyd said simply with another smirk on his face. He couldn’t help but let his gaze wander over your shifting body once more. You certainly looked like a hunter, but your ignorance and naivety gave you away at how utterly unskilled/trained you were in the craft. 

The realization made Lloyd’s dark soul tremble in excitement at the potential of catching a brazen, beautifully innocent, yet idiotic soul like yours. And to feast on one that looks like you, with an energy so devoting and submissive…he was suddenly ravenous.

The haze that you felt earlier felt almost like a white, hot energy that was wading towards you when you noticed ‘Lloyd’s’ gaze shifting over your figure once again but with this newfound hunger in his eyes. You shifted uncomfortably as your body responded to the shift in the air. You couldn’t help but close your eyes briefly in shame as you felt it…the wetness that was accumulating in your underwear. 

It didn’t matter that he was a literal sex demon who preyed on women– it was like all boundaries didn’t matter as you felt a similar urge to throw all inhibitions out the window, stalk over to him to have him throw you down on the dusty, creaking floor to just take you over and over again as you begged him for more. 

You shook your head to clear your sinful thoughts, knowing that demons can sense wicked thoughts– but to your detriment, Lloyd seemed to clock something about your tense and conflicted frame and suddenly inhaled deeply. 

You knew that you were caught when you saw that his cocked head straightened in discovery at smelling your arousal in the musty space. He released a deep grunt as his eyes rolled to the back of his head in pleasure. The atmospheric drop in the air was palpable and the room became so distinctly warm, you could feel sweat dropping on your temple at the change. 

Panting at the sudden rise in heat and thinning air, tears started to build in your eyes at looking over the demon’s now darkened gaze. He looked like he was going to attack you, and it didn’t scare you that you may lose your life nor was it that he would take you without consent. 

What was scary was that you wanted him to take you. You wanted to feel him in his own heat on your bare, naked skin as he thrusted his hard cock into your eager pussy and feel the supernatural strength of his grip holding your hands above your head. So much so that you wouldn’t be able to escape him. You didn’t want to leave him, you wanted him to devour you.

You tried to shake your head out of these fantasies and get back to the present but the heat wouldn’t let you. The haze felt so strong. You could hear yourself mumbling something about the heat and subconsciously took off the denim jacket you’re wearing in desperation to feel cool.

In your present view, you could see Lloyd walk determinedly towards you and you found a consciousness present enough to take a few steps back to the tops of the chalk circle. You knew that he wouldn’t be able to enter it, that’s why he bypassed it in the first place. A demon’s trap is meant to do exactly that, he wouldn’t risk losing his prey and enter the circle where you could easily escape. 

Almost as if he could hear your thoughts, Lloyd’s eyes narrowed in mirth as he released a dark chuckle and stopped before entering the circle. “Oooh, sunshine, you’re so cute to think that you could escape me now. You wanted my attention, now you have it.”

He took one dramatic step inside. 

Your eyes widened in shock, not being able to process what he was doing and you turned to run out but you couldn’t. 

You physically could not leave the circle as you felt an invisible barrier brush against your hands that were banging against them to desperately leave. “NO! What’s happening, no–,” you gasped out, tears started to roll down your flushed cheeks as you felt him close. What was worse was that even though you wanted to get away, you wanted him to get even closer. To keep you inside of the circle with him. Delightfully trapped.

A large, warm hand touched your shoulder and spun you around as you shrieked. Tears of panic and confusion were still streaming down your face. Using the sudden invisible barrier as a wall, you shrunk yourself against it as much as you could, trying to resist the confusing and tempting pull, but it didn’t work. Lloyd gripped your waist and pulled you tight against him, your body non-resisting to his touch even though your mind protested.

Your hands reacted to instinctively catch yourself against his suddenly bare chest. You released another squeak at the feeling of his skin. The heat of his naked torso felt so relieving against yours. 

“Just like you thought he would feel like…” You thought to yourself, eyes narrowed in its seeming haze. The part of you that was still conscious and afraid frowned at the feeling of his skin on yours. Looking down, the both of you were bare naked. 

“What- !” You shrieked, not even remembering when or how your clothes disappeared. A wave of insecurity rushed through you at the vulnerability that you were left with in front of Lloyd, who although is a demon, was shaped like a Greek god. You felt as if dignity was taken away from you as Lloyd’s hands wandered over the skin of your naked back and up towards the back of your neck. His touch was not forcing though, it was as light as a teasing feather.

You tried, you really did, to get away from his wandering, sinful hands but he felt so smooth, warm, and so comforting. The reality was that you didn’t want to get away as he kept you pressed against him where you could feel everything. His hardened cock that you weren’t able to really look at earlier was firmly pressed against the pudge of your stomach. You couldn’t tell where the intense rush of heat was coming from, whether it was this haze or him, but you felt it flushed in your cheeks at feeling Lloyd’s erection. The knowledge that he was turned on by you.

“Of course I am, little one. Look at you. So beautiful before me. Calling for me. I'm gonna make you mine.” Lloyd murmured seductively as he responded to your hazed thoughts. His other hand moved to grip the front of your neck carefully.

He wasn’t choking you, his grip was deceivingly light, but the promise of it was what had you whimpering in response. You just barely registered how he was able to give you a response to something that was being noticed in your head.

“What’s happening to me? How are you doing this?” The only curiosities that your clouded mind was able to circle around were asked as his grip turned your face upwards to sultry and lustfully graze your lips against his.

Lloyd wickedly grinned and hummed again before he murmured his response against your pillowy lips, “You’re sleeping, sunshine.” 

You could only look up into his mirth-filled eyes as you mildly registered the shock settling in your system. “No, that can’t be…I drove here and drew the circle, I called…” you drifted in your disbelief as Lloyd turned your bodies so that he was behind you. Your view no longer obscured by his taut body, you looked down to see your limp body…just laying there, seemingly unmoving.

Your eyes only widened more as Lloyd petted your hair soothingly, sensing your distress. “Oh my god, I’m dead. I’m. dead.” Flooded with panic, your body was frozen as your thoughts ruminated in a vicious cycle.

Almost condescendingly, he noted carelessly, “You’re not dead, little one. Your body is in what we call, the in-between. Or purgatory, as some may say.” 

A high-pitched ring sang in your ears as you tried to take in Llloyd’s words. “But, I didn’t let you in. I didn’t give you permission.” You remarked disbelievingly as you tried to recall the regulations and rules surrounding demon possession. It’s only if you invite them into your soul, do they insert themselves, almost brutally, into your physical body and spirit. But you didn’t say the words…

“Didn’t you though?” Lloyd deviously smiled again in response to your disbelief. He hummed against your skin as he proceeded to inhale your hair and down towards your inner neck. 

Unknowingly, your eyes closed deliriously as you felt his breath brush against your skin. Lloyd nosed your shoulder affectionately while he revealed mockingly, “Sealed with a kiss – a brush against the lips is all it takes to bind a human soul with a demon. And you, sunshine, are the sweetest soul that I’ve taken in a long, long time.” 

His cerulean blue eyes met your shocked filled irises as he witnessed the reflective realization wash over you. Noticing the tears in your eyes, Lloyd thought that you’ve never looked more beautiful than you did right then and there.

He cooed at you again and turned your frozen frame to face him once more. “Aw, little one. I promise to take good care of you. If you only knew the things I want to do to you.” 

Lloyd’s large hands grasped the back of your head to pull you hard onto his weathered lips. You were stunned at the sudden move but also couldn’t hold back the pleasured moan that left your throat at the feeling of his wet tongue caressing yours. You’ve never been kissed like this in your life– feeling cherished or owned by somebody…something else. And it felt so fucking good.

An insidious and sudden gratification came over your body as your hands clutched onto Lloyd's muscular frame to clutch yourself to his body. The heat felt overwhelmingly dangerous as you kissed the incubus demon with as much eagerness as he was extending upon your aching lips. 

You couldn’t remember the reason as to why you even came here in the first place, nor do you even recall where you were at that moment. All you could feel was Lloyd as he kissed you languidly and passionately. He was all that you wanted to feel. 

Breaking the kiss, Lloyd drew back but kept his hands in your hair to ensure his control. "You gonna be good for me, sunshine?" 

The only thing you could do is cry desperately as the warmth overtook your body once again. Feeling flushed and needy for his skin on yours, you wantonly cried out, “Yes! I promise I’ll be such a good girl for you, Lloyd. Please! I can be good. So good for you. I promise. Please.” 

You didn’t sound like yourself at all, but at that moment, you couldn’t find anything in you to care. You were desperate for him. You only wanted to be touched, wanted, and seen by him. Almost as if you needed him to know how devoted you were to giving him all of you, your soul.

Lloyd’s eyes rolled back in his head in derived pleasure as he smelled the desperation and need come off of you in waves. He nuzzled your nose against his with a gratified hum and said, “Tell me you're mine. You need to say it, sunshine, and then I’ll give you whatever you want.”

In one breath, you didn’t even hesitate, “I’m yours. Please, I let you in.” 

Hearing the words explicitly spoken from your pouty lips, Lloyd growled out possessively while granting you another deep and wet kiss. As he pulled back, his teeth bit your bottom lip slowly and seductively as he finished the deal against your pursed lips, “You belong to me now.”

A binding force tingled from your feet and up all over your body once his words were spoken. It felt ethereal and other worldly, but it felt right. You didn’t even recognize what you’ve just done as you have suddenly found yourself on your back, Lloyd kissing you so softly, it felt so contrasting to his demonic nature.

“I’ve treated all of my soul thralls as I see fit in the past. Though you, little one, are by far the brightest soul that I’ve come across in a millenia. Right when I saw you kneeling right by my feet, those eyes looked up at me so delicately. There was longing in your gaze that I needed for myself. Seems like you knew that you needed me too, hm?” 

You only could nod preciously against his soft lips as you pursued another kiss from him. Your tongue sought his as you battled for his attentive mouth, and before you knew it, just as you predicted and wanted, he was laying you on top of the chalk-drawn circle. 

Not even registering the cold harsh wood against your back, you felt so enveloped by his aura. Something internally shifted as you felt that warmth that radiated from your physical body internalize and bloom into something so wholesome, almost as if you felt that hole in your heart repair into a strong, full organ that wanted for nothing. 

You felt complete. 

A gasp escaped you as you broke away from the impassioned kiss. The warmth in your chest seemed to materialize all over your body, inside of you and out. A keening moan left your mouth as you felt the heat start to rush down to your core between your legs. Another gush of wet just seeped out of you and Lloyd growled as if he could feel it escaping too. 

You questioned him breathlessly against his impatient lips, “What’s happening?”

Another whimper left your throat as you felt this deep desire from before just amplify into something that felt not of this earth. It felt transcendent, ancient, and light. It felt like a high that tuned up the feeling of pleasure and ecstasy so that any brush of Lloyd’s skin on yours, the smell of him, the ridges of his muscular body, turned you on so delightfully.

Lloyd teasingly brushed his lips against the exposed length of your neck and you could feel his smirk almost seep into your skin with the following words.

“Our souls just became one, sunshine.” 

A brief moment of panic escaped that cloud of bliss that overcame your conscious body and mind. Sensing your panic, Lloyd cooed at you once more to provide a comfort that you didn’t know that you needed in that moment. A reassurance of sorts against the thought that this feeling between you in this moment was fleeting and temporary. 

“Don’t worry, little one. I’m yours just as much as you are mine. Forever.” His lips whispered against yours intimately before he licked into your yearning mouth, capturing your tongue in another heated dance. 

His words lit a fire deep inside of you and you felt your pussy clench on nothing but his promise. You gasped and tilted your head back in pleasure as Lloyd proceeded to press heated kisses down your throat and towards your breasts. 

“Forever?” You gasped out as your lungs tried desperately to breathe in more air. The conscious part of you incredulously realized that all of this made no sense to you. How was he able to read your body so well? Your thoughts? How is he able to impact you like this? Give you the greatest pleasure and burning desire that you’ve ever felt in your entire life? 

Taking a pert nipple into his mouth, his tongue brushed over the tip teasingly while you pressed his head closer to your chest at the sensation. 

“A soul contract is an everlasting bond between your soul and mine. You have something valuable that I need, and so did you. I just needed you to submit to me, give yourself completely to me in order to make the trade.” He spoke in between placing wet kisses on your sternum to switch his attention to your other breast. Blowing cold air on your nipple, Lloyd smirked and darkly chucked as he witnessed you tremble in delight. You sobbed at feeling the cold air brush against your warm skin, a temporary aid in relief for more.

“But, you didn’t even know what I wanted.” You attempted to recall the reasons as to why and when you summoned him. Although, you were unsuccessful as that part of you was dimming as time went by, especially the more that you felt Lloyd descend closer towards your heated core. 

Lloyd chuckled against the smooth flesh of your soft tummy and to your detriment, kissed his way back up towards your lips. After taking you apart with his fervent mouth once more, he gathered your clenched fists to hold them against the sodden wood in one strong grip. 

Your wrists were now caught in his powerful hold and he leaned in close to capture your yearning gaze. His eye contact was so intense as he stared back, even though he already had your soul, it was almost like he was trying to peer inside.

“You didn’t really want to save that piece of trash hunter, did you?” He kissed your cheek innocently as you felt a shock wave up towards your newly-filled heart. 

“How did you…? But I didn’t say anything about him…” Your shock was on full display as he continued to press small kisses over the frozen expression of your face.

“He abandoned you. Mistreated you. He left you for another woman, and you still wanted to go and save him?” He whispered darkly against the swell of your ear before pressing delicate kisses to your earlobe. Nipping lightly, he continued to murmur ominously, “He isn’t worthy of your loyalty, little one. So, I decided to take it instead.” 

A tear fell down your cheek at the feelings of loss and sadness, memories of your old life flashing behind your bewitched eyes. Lloyd quickly licked up the fallen tear with a growl, “He didn’t deserve you, sunshine. You and I both know that even though you came here for him, you really came here for yourself. You wanted to give yourself to something that could actually hold you. Tame you.”

Your deepest thoughts of yourself being verbalized by Lloyd in such an unconcerned manner brought more flashes to recent memories, it played like a movie in your mind’s eye. Moments where you felt that abandonment by your ex, hearing his resolute voice on the phone as he mentioned the deal with a demon for the ‘love of his life’, a woman who wasn’t you. 

Pressing kisses to the corner of your eye that was now freely leaking fresh tears, Lloyd made sure to nuzzle you in comfort, “But you weren’t meant for that life. A life that only involved the killing of creatures, demons– living a hunter’s life wasn’t what you were destined for, little one.” 

Your teary gaze met his confident blue eyes as he leaned over you once more, “Don’t you see, sunshine? You were made and meant for me. And for me alone.”

With that, Lloyd pressed his curled lips against you harshly and any traces of sadness or loneliness left your soul. A feeling of wanting to be possessed completely by him replaced the aloneness that came over you from before. It was like he was the only cure. 

Eagerly and recklessly losing yourself in the enriching feeling, you were almost inhaling his kiss as you pressed your naked body up into his. Feeling his erection against your inner thigh, you writhed against him to finally make him take you.

"You love it like this, don't you? The fact that I own you and now, I’m going to ruin you, little one." Lloyd groaned against your warm and willing skin. Shifting just so, you gasped as his hard cock brushed against your weeping pussy. 

“Answer me, my little thrall.” Lloyd allowed you to grind against his cock but just barely against your slit. Fucking into your wet and slippery thighs, you whimpered and tried to rock your hips closer to him to push him inside you.

“Yes! I love it! I need you to take me, please! I don’t want to be alone anymore, please.” You begged the demon as the tears returned, feeling this want and power surge through you as your soul and body fully submitted to him. It was so overwhelming. All you knew was that his possession helped smother the darkest depths of yourself from coming out. He welcomed you into himself and you gladly gave it to him.

Lloyd groaned quietly and deeply inhaled the darkest of truths that were emoting from your pheromones within the crook of your neck while he whispered seductively, “Ah, there it is. Thank you, sunshine. Shush now, my good girl.” 

He raised his head to look into your weepy eyes once more, “You’re never going to be alone again.” A soft smile graced the strong features of his face and a warmth full of genuine love blossomed inside of you at the sight. Around your repaired heart sat Lloyd’s genuine smile, such a stark contrast to darkness that you would’ve ever expected to receive from the incubus. 

The warmth only expanded as Lloyd pushed his cock inside of you with one smooth thrust, your wetness facilitating the most pleasurable union. Instantly, your eyes rolled back in complete bliss as you were so worked up, it was the feeling of his girthy cock just sliding inside of you that made you come undone. You cried out in pure ecstasy and a ringing sound numbed around your ears where you could barely hear Lloyd’s wicked chuckle as he praised you for surrendering yourself to him. 

He didn’t stop thrusting inside of you, not even when you clenched around him so tightly that he gritted his teeth at the sensation. His cock was stretching you out and hitting spots deep inside of you that no lover ever could– the gratification of finally being joined together was just too much. His hands weren’t idle as they caressed your breasts and roughly groped your waist, down towards your plush ass where he slapped the reddening flesh. 

He slapped your ass again and tilted his hips so that you could feel him go even deeper. You released a squeak at the novel feeling and Lloyd took that as his opportunity to slow his pace, but not lessening the controlling grip that he had around your waist. You marveled and whimpered at the thought of seeing his marks on your body later as you tore you apart. 

Going deep and slow, his thrusts became harder and your body jolted with every thrust he gave you as you were inundated with how good his cock felt, finally reaching the spot inside of you that made your mind go blank. It activated that switch where your body just went limp and you felt even more vulnerable to the demon’s ravaging. You didn’t even care to feel embarrassed by your loud moans and whimpers, nor the drool that was escaping you. Your eyes simply rolled shut as you lost yourself in the consistent press against your g-spot. 

“Aw, look at that, sunshine. I think I broke your pretty brain, made you all dumb for me.” Lloyd had a smug smirk on his face, accentuating his intimidating presence even more. 

You could only release quiet ‘ngh’s as if in a trance as he continued to fuck you hard and deep. The knot in your stomach started building again as tears of heartfelt satisfaction and adoration filled you once more. You couldn’t describe it, but it was like Lloyd was fucking you with purpose and intent to show you that you were truly made for him. Almost as if he already knew all of your kinks and was exploiting them for proof– evidence that he will always be what you need. 

“Thaaat’s it, just a little more," he groaned out and readjusted his grip so that he could tilt your hips just right until your eyes opened in startled ecstasy, a cry leaving your lips as his cock went even deeper. “There you go, my little thrall. Look at how good you're taking me." He gestured to the slight bulge protruding from your lower stomach. The sight of his cock being that deep inside of you was what had you shatter around him for the second time.

You released a guttural moan as you let go, barely coming down from your orgasm when Lloyd decided to rub your swollen, drenched clit with the rough of his thumb. Your back arched and your legs thrashed until Lloyd held down your body and fucked you faster with his thumb still placing frantic pulses on your bundle of nerves. 

At your limit, your face contorted into an expression that can only depict unrestrained and unexpected bliss as you screamed out your orgasm, squirting all over Lloyd’s wide cock.

The feeling of your sopping cunt gripping his cock made Lloyd release a dark, guttural and infernal roar as he came inside of your still pulsing channel. He gave you three more half-hearted thrusts as his spend leaked around his cock, inadvertently pushing his cum deeper inside of you. 

Lloyd caressed your trembling thighs soothingly as he also attempted to catch his breath. He couldn’t help the last resounding smack against your supple flesh as he noticed your fucked out expression. Eyes wilted with pleasured exhaustion, your body shaking as exhilaration died down.

“You're so beautiful like this, sunshine." He moaned adoringly as he pulled his half-hard cock out of your still quivering pussy. You moaned at the loss of him and could feel your shared cum dripping out of you.

“Mmmm, a sight that will never tire me, I’m sure.” Lloyd groaned out deeply with his smirk still upon his pink lips. He leaned over you for a moment to continue taking in your post-coital glow. He pressed a hand to your chest covering your heart and shuddered at the warming feeling it brought him under his palm. 

What you would find out later is that every sensation that you felt, he felt. Your thoughts were now his thoughts too. Your desires were his. While you were exhausted from your soul celebrations, the enmeshment gave Lloyd an invigorated rush of power. He only took pieces of you with every orgasm he gave you. Your heightened arousal would become his, and so on, everytime that he would take you.

The way that his own empty hearted chest filled with a lightness and charge that he’d never felt before since his existence. He knew that he would, indeed, keep you forever.

Lloyd genuinely smiled in satisfaction as he felt power rushing through his veins. Nuzzling your flushed cheek with affection, he murmured, “Now, little one, let’s go home, shall we?” 

Final A/N: Welp! that happened. I originally was writing this SoftDark!Demon!Lloyd as a stand-alone from this poll but when the Hootenanny challenge was announced, I thought it would be a perfect fit 😈 Hope you enjoyed reading this ficlet, and reblogs/comments are very welcome~

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[boxofbonesfic]

Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [6]

Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why. 

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!

Word Count: 3,776

A/N: whew. okay. we’re back, we’re updating, and we’re getting back on track. i think the motivation behind the madness is becoming a little clearer. or at least, more clear. i hope you all enjoy, and as always, comments and especially reblogs are always appreciated. ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics​

It’s your wedding day, again. 

  You remember the soft white satin of your dress like it was yesterday—only it’s today, isn’t it? How can something happen again if it hasn’t happened yet? You look down at your hands, where the lacy sleeves of your wedding dress loop gracefully around your thumbs—your nails are picked raw and bleeding. You look back up at the mirror, and your own distraught face stares back at you. 

  I don’t want to get married. 

  No, that isn’t right—this is a good day, a happy day, why don’t you want it anymore? There is knowledge that dances just out of touch as you stare fuzzily at the mirror in your bridal suite. Something is wrong, but you don’t remember what it is. The mirror fragments, each component folding away as the world tilts on it’s axis, wood flooring becoming red carpet strewn with rose petals. 

  You stand at the altar, the priest beaming at you. 

  You will take him won’t you? As husband, husband and wife—Ransom splits in two like a cell, and both of them hold your hands so tight the bones creak and hurt and—

  “I love you, Princess, Sweetheart, Darling, Mine—” One voice, two mouths, one person, two bodies. You don’t realize they’re pulling until you tear, splitting right down the middle  like you’re made of tissue paper. too. Pulling you to bloody pieces as they repeat oaths of husbandly devotion. 

  My wife.

  MY  WIFE.

  You wake up in darkness, your heart pounding in your chest. It disorients you, and you blink, expecting the cloud to clear from your eyes but it doesn’t. Immediately your hand goes to your stomach, and your frantic heartbeat calms just a fraction as you rest a hand on the gentle swell. The thoughts in your head are still an anxious jumble. Ransom, Lloyd, the party—

  God, the party. 

  Your stomach churns as you recall Lloyd’s cruel smile. 

  Tell him. Tell me what he says. 

  You clap a hand to your mouth as an anguished sob threatens to escape. Ransom, Lloyd… where had they taken you? You frantically feel your way to the edge of the bed, your feet slipping a little on the cool tile as you stand. 

  “H-hello?” You call out into the darkness, but there’s no response. Trembling, you begin taking short, halting steps forward, your hands outstretched. “P-please, someone—fuck!” You curse loudly as your foot catches the edge of something, a table, a chair, you can’t tell. “Answer me!” 

  No one does. 

  You wander forward blindly until you reach a wall, and, feeling along it, you feel plaster turn to glass. You gasp, frantically dragging your hands along the surface until feel something—a switch. You flick it up, and there’s a sound like whirring gears. The lights don’t come on, but something else happens instead: the blackout shades on the other side of the thick pane of glass begin to lift, light creeping in underneath the edge. It’s blinding at first, spots dancing in your eyes as you throw a hand up to shield them, but after a moment, they adjust. 

  You see… a beach. 

  An empty beach. 

  The clear blue water comes straight up to the window like an aquarium. There are no people on the pristine, white sand—no one to hear you as you frantically beat your palm against the glass. Frantically, you turn around to take stock of the room, grabbing for a nearby chair. You knock over the little coffee table in the sitting area next to you, but you don’t care. It takes all your strength to heft it above your head, screaming as you slam it into the glass—

  But nothing happens. It connects with a dull thud, the treated wood splintering as it cracks. The window is unharmed, barely even scratched. An anguished wail tears from your chest as you throw everything within reach that you can lift, beating everything into splinters until you’re left panting and sobbing in the wreckage. 

  “Sweetheart you know that really isn’t good for the baby.” You whirl around frantically, grabbing for the leg of a chair you’d broken into kindling against the indestructible-fucking-window, brandishing it threateningly. You hadn’t even heard the sound of a door opening—in fact, as you stare, wide-eyed around the room, trying to pin down his point of entry, you can’t seem to find a door at all in the lavishly decorated suite. 

  “Fuck you!” You snarl at him, your lip curling. “Let—let me out of here!” Ransom clucks his tongue at you like you’re an errant child.

  “You’re a smart girl, Love. You know I’m not going to do that.” 

  “You can’t fucking keep me in here—” Ransom shakes his head. 

  “I can, Sweetheart. And I’m going to. We’re going to.” He casts a disparaging look down at the ruined chairs and table by your feet. “Lloyd did tell me not to put the good stuff in first—I underestimated your temper.” The casual remark makes you want to swing your makeshift bat at his head. “He designed it for you, you know. I thought we could just lock you in the basement, but now that I see it, I think this is better.” 

  “You’re a monster.” You’re crying, hard, hysterical sobs that leave your throat raw and aching. He actually has the gall to look hurt by your insult, his face crumpling as his mouth presses into a thin, angry line. 

  “A monster that loves you. That would do anything to protect you—even from yourself.” Your body seizes with fear as he crosses the room in a few easy strides, gripping your shoulders with furious hands. You whine as he squeezes, pressing harder and harder until you drop the scrap of wood you’re holding. You don’t know this Ransom, this maniacal, cruel man wearing your husband’s face, your husband’s ring. 

  “Do you remember what it was like when we got together?” He asks. Ransom shakes you a little, like he’s trying to jog your memory. “Living at home with your parents, helping them with every single bill because you were terrified your sister was going to graduate high-school on the streets—”

  “So what?” You spit back. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?” 

  “I gave you everything.” For the first time you see the same possessive madness in his eyes you’d seen in Lloyd’s. “And you think you can just walk away? Take from me until you’ve gotten your fill? That’s not how this works, Sweetheart.” He releases you and you stumble away, clutching yourself. He straightens his shirt, smoothing back the errant hairs that have fallen into his face. 

  “We’re going to give you such a good life, Sweetheart. You just have to trust us.” 

  “I will never trust you again.” You growl the words at him like a threat. “I hate you.” And then, inexplicably, he’s your Ransom again, his blue eyes soft as he looks at you, like he knows something you haven’t yet come to accept. Like an adult admonishing a child for fears they’ll soon leave behind as they grow to accept the way things are—the way they always will be. 

  “You won’t always.” His eyes flick down to the destruction you’ve wrought, and he clucks his tongue. “Maybe I’ll talk to Lloyd about bringing in some new furniture for you, if you’re good.” Ransom’s handsome mouth curves up into an amused smile. “Maybe something a little heavier.” He kicks at a piece of the table, before making his way back over to the other side of the room. A door the same color as the wall opens at his touch. 

“Lunch in an hour.” 

—

   True to his word Ransom returns with Lloyd in tow, a tray held in his large hands. You’d waited for this moment with a dark sort of anticipation, and for a brief moment, their stunned, angry expressions as the door panel slides open fill you with a sense of profound pride.

   You’d done your level best to destroy everything that wasn’t nailed down,  methodically and systematically taking apart everything you could get your hand on. Even the mattress lies ruined, feathers and wood splinters littering the torn cover. Though the mirror had refused to break—and indeed proved too heavy for you to lift—you feel a smug satisfaction in seeing what you had been able to accomplish with jagged pieces of plywood.  

  Fuck you. 

  Lloyd steps in first, squatting down to inspect a piece of the smashed coffee table. 

  “I told you we shouldn’t have put this stuff in here first. Empty room, Ransom. You always have to start with an empty room.” His eyes flick up to yours, and he smiles softly—affectionately. “Hi, Princess.”

  “Go to hell, Lloyd.” Ransom steps fully into your room then, shutting the door gently behind him before setting the tray on the windowsill. He sighs. 

  “I know it was stupid to hope your attitude had improved in an hour, but stranger things have happened.” He glances back at the tray. “You should eat something, Love. It’s been four days of—” His words become a static drone as the panic begins to set in. Four days? I’ve been out for four days? The questions fill your head almost faster than you can process them. Where are you? Your parents, your sister? What happened? 

  “What is this? What is this fucking place?” 

  The pride in Ransom’s eyes makes you want to vomit. “We made it for you. Just for you. It took—how long, Lloyd?” 

  “A year, give or take.” He rubs his fingers along the growing stubble on his upper lip. “And then finding staff…” He pauses. “The hotel, or just the Room?” The way Lloyd says room makes it sound singular, important. You cannot help but gape at them

  “You’re sick—both of you. Y-you—what you did to me—” You shake your head. “A-all of this.” You gesture at the room around you. “For what?” Lloyd threads his fingers together, and you can hear the soft metal click of his rings tapping against each other as he does. 

  “I know you’re not deaf, Princess. It’s for you.” 

  Cold trickles down your spine. You’ve been doing it ever since you woke up, running through each moment in the past four, five and cataloguing each one you couldn’t make make sense. You’re doing it again now,  thumbing back through the index cards of your memories and finding empty slots. Thanksgivings, Christmases, Easters—Ransom had told you it had been a year, but you can’t trust that, you can’t believe him, not after everything.

  “My family won’t let you do this sick fucking shit, you know that.” You spit. “They’re not going to let you kidnap me—”

  “How much is Nathalie’s school, Sweetheart?” Ransom asks, cocking his head. “Per year.”

  “What?” The question throws you off, the freight train of words in your throat piling up messily on your tongue. “What are you—”

  “How much is her tuition?” He repeats it slowly like you’re having trouble understanding him. You bare your teeth at Ransom as you grimace. 

  “I don’t know. She has a scholarship. What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

  “It’s $63,000.” Ransom gives you the figure so matter-of-factly it’s like he rehearsed it. “Per year.” Your stomach sinks, like your body knows before your head. “What, you didn’t know? No one ever reads the paperwork, do they, Lloyd?” He glances at his brother over his shoulder. “What’s it say on the checks? T. H. B. Inc., doesn’t it?” He licks his lips. “The T stands for Thrombey, Sweetheart.” 

  You almost want to laugh for the insanity of it all—you even try, but no sound escapes your tight, dry throat. Lloyd nods. 

  “Same as the ones your father gets. Funny how his company’s picked up these last few years, isn’t it?” 

  Your fists clench and unclench as you sit there on the floor, staring up at them. There’s nothing left to destroy, nothing left to break except the two of them—and you already know how that ends. Instead, you’re forced to sit there, hot rage coiling in your chest as the realization dawns cold and cutting—

  Your family is already bought and paid for, even if they don’t know it. 

  “I never asked you for this.” You spit, nails biting into the meat of your palms as you press angry fists against the cool tile. “I didn’t ask you for fucking any of this!” 

  “I promised to make a home for you, didn’t I, Sweetheart?” He squats down in front of you, his hand out like he wants you to take it. “A good husband provides.” It isn’t supposed to feel like being cut into a thousand pieces to hear his wedding vows regurgitated like this. His gaze drops to the ring still on your finger. You hadn’t noticed it until he did, and as he watches, you rip it from your finger with a violent twist, and throw it at him. He actually looks upset at this, a hint of his earlier rage passing over his features like a cloud. 

  You hate the way it makes your gut wrench because you want him to fucking hurt. It’s like your body hasn’t realized yet just who he is—who they are, and it makes you even angrier. You turn away, loose nightgown bunching under your thighs as you turn to face the wall instead. 

  “Leave me alone.”

  “Not until you eat something.” You aren’t sure if it’s Ransom that speaks, or Lloyd. You press your eyes shut and bite your lips to shutter the angry, frustrated wail that threatens to leap from your throat. “That’s not good for the baby.” 

  Good for the baby.

  Good for the baby.

  Good for the fucking baby.

  You want to hate it now; the child growing inside of you, even if only to spite the men standing behind you. But you cannot bring yourself to—and you hate that too. 

  Shame is not a new feeling, not for you, but it feels new today as you pick apart the plain chicken salad sandwich they had brought for you. Assume it’s drugged. You hate yourself as you tear off chunks with stiff fingers, forcing your mouth open and swallowing it down with a grimace. Assume everything is drugged. When you’re finished, you drag the back of your hand across your mouth roughly, tossing the tray at Lloyd’s feet. 

  He doesn’t pick it up. 

  “Good girl.” You shiver. It’s involuntary, and you know he sees it, the way his mouth twitches with the urge to lift into the smug smile you know so well. “Your wish is our command, Princess.”

  Ransom bends to pick up the ring wordlessly, and follows his brother out of your room. 

  —

  They don’t come back that night.

  You watch the sky outside the glass wall of your prison turn dark, and then brighten again with stars as you sit huddled against it, hugging your knees to your chest. You’re exhausted, but you can’t sleep. Your body won’t let you, jerking you back to wakefulness as soon as your eyelids start to droop. The thoughts won’t stop coming either, cycling through on a loop you can’t seem to stop. 

  I wonder what Nat’s doing. 

  I wonder if they’re worried about me.

  I wonder what Ransom told them.

  You want to pinpoint the time your life went off the rails but you can’t, you don’t know it. College, perhaps? 

  When you’d met Ransom? Lloyd?

  You drag yourself away from the window after a few hours of staring bleakly out at the empty beach. It feels like too much to hope for that someone would happen by, not with the lengths they had clearly taken to secure you. The comforter bleeds feathers as you drag it to the floor beside the bed, wedging yourself between it and the wall. You know you aren’t safe—you’ve little control over that—but the solid press of concrete behind you makes you feel more secure. 

  It’s what allows you to finally fall asleep, though it is not restful. It feels like you wake every few minutes at every imagined sound, jolting back to consciousness and scanning the still empty room before quickly passing out again. You half expect Lloyd and Ransom to be back, waiting for you to open your eyes but when you finally do, you are still blessedly alone, but for the fresh tray in front of the door. 

  You wait for a few minutes, just to see if they emerge from your peripheral vision, the places in the room you can’t see from your vantage point—but they don’t. Everything is as it was before, the destruction from your earlier rampage still strewn across the floor. It feels surreal. Slowly, you pick your way across the debris and grasp the tray in your trembling hands. You don’t want to eat it, not really, but your stomach clenches and rumbles at the sight of food as you peek beneath the tray cover. 

  It isn’t anything special—another sandwich, a bag of chips, and a bottle of water. You check beneath the styrofoam plate just to be sure, there’s no note, no nothing, and you cannot help but wonder when they’ll be back. They’re messing with your head, you know they are—and you hate that it’s working. You’re rattled, upset, anxious—just how they want you. 

  The urge comes again to pick up the largest piece of anything you can find and smash it against the window until it breaks. 

  We made it for you.

  Your stomach churns with disgust even as you take a greedy bite out of your sandwich. How hadn’t you seen yourself and your family waltzing right into the palms of their hands? How hadn’t you noticed? Lloyd had always been overly interested, overly gracious, even after you’d rejected him, and started dating his brother. You’re reminded of Linda’s curt smile and her slickly delivered barb. You tore them apart without even thinking about it. And Lloyd’s admission…

  It was more than a little crush.

  You don’t know how to reconcile the madness simmering behind your husbands eyes with the man who’d held your hands and said his vows. As he’d griped your wrists, staring into your eyes with his own fever-bright, you could barely recognize him. 

  You clean your plate, washing it down with the water before casting another look around the room. It’s blank, empty beyond the few pieces of furniture you hadn’t been able to destroy. No books, no television—nothing. You search the walls near the door panel, looking for something, anything that might make it open, but you find little. The smooth white keyboard does not respond when you push your thumb against the rubbery buttons, and the seam is so narrow you can barely wedge your fingernails into it to try and pry it open. 

  For hours you walk the perimeter of the room, running your hands along the walls, feeling no breaks in the smooth, cool surface. You have to get out of here—but you don’t even know where here is. How far you are from the resort, if you’re even on the same island. As the room darkens, you realize you’ve been pacing for hours like a caged animal, and neither Ransom nor Lloyd has come to check on you all day. Somehow, the thought fill you with apprehension. Not knowing when they might appear is unnerving, and you suspect they mean it to be. 

  You thread your fingers through your hair, tugging on it as you watch the sun sink into the sea, a panicked, claustrophobic feeling rising in your chest until you realize you aren’t breathing. You can’t stay here like this, you can’t—

  Before you realize it you’re running for the door, beating your fists wildly against the panel. 

  “Let me out! Let me the fuck out of here!” Your frenzied wailing rings in your own ears. It’s like you’re numb to the pain as you swing with all your might. You’re aware-even if only dimly—of the fact that your fists will be sore and aching later, bruised and beat to a pulp but you don’t care. Not if it gets you out—not if it gets you away from them. 

  “Ransom! Ransom let me out! You can’t fucking keep me here! You can’t!” 

  Nothing happens. The door doesn’t budge, and there is no answer to your increasingly panicked demands. You scream for hours. Until you’re hoarse, and your trembling fists ache to raise above your shoulders. Still, you bang your open palms against the panel as your firm insistence becomes a stream of nonsense pleas. 

  “Please, please don’t do this, if you l-loved me y-you wouldn’t do this!” Tears and snot run down your face as you collapse to your knees, exhausted. “Please.” You mumble, curling in on yourself in front of the door. The tears come again, and you don’t even try to stop them, sobbing open-mouthed on the cold tile, your hands fisting in your nightgown. 

  “Please.” 

  You lay there until the room goes dark. 

  —

  “I hate seeing her like this.” The cameras are good—too good. He can see the pain on your face too clearly, hear the betrayal in your voice just a bit too well through the speakers. 

  “You think I like it?” Lloyd asks irritatedly, and Ransom sighs. “She’ll even out soon. If not, you can up the mood stabilizer. She’s cleared for it until the second trimester.” Ransom knows his brother, knows that’s his version of comforting reassurance. “Besides, you’re the one that decided to play keep-away.” 

  Ransom looks at the camera again, at your softly moving shoulders. He’s both thankful and irritated at the hair covering your pretty face—but at least it blocks the sight of your tears. As he watches, you shudder—like you’re still crying, even in your sleep. 

  “I know. We have to make her grateful. For us.” He says, still looking at the screen. And he does. He understands the necessity of it—it was his plan, almost more than Lloyd’s. “I still hate it.” 

  “I don’t anticipate she’ll keep it up more than a week. Two, tops.” For the most part, Ransom has seldom ever found himself envious of his twin, but now he felt his lip curl with irritated jealousy at Lloyd’s confidence. “Don’t worry little brother,” he grins. “Our Princess will love us again.” He turns back to the cameras. “I���m sure of it.” 

To be continued…

next chapter

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

[sweetiebarnes]

Twisted Pairing: Step Dad!Lloyd Hansen x Step Daughter!Reader

Word Count: 600+

Warnings: stepcest, voyeurism, female masturbation, nudity, implied future anal, minor daddy kink, dubcon/noncon if you squint, reader is early twenties, age gap.

Request: Lloyd Hansen, Step Dad, “What’s the matter? You’re acting like you’ve never seen a naked man before.”, and anal. Requested by: anonymous

A/N: I'm sorry I've been so slow with writing these. January has proven to be much more difficult than I had anticipated. I promise the stories are coming, and I am looking forward to doing your requests. This isn't my best work, but I still had fun writing it. It has not been beta read, so any mistakes are my own. As always my work is intended for adult audiences so 18+ only! Minors DNI. Pay attention to all tags and warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Writing Event Masterlist (still in the works)

From the first time Lloyd saw you he knew he needed to have you. That’s the thing about Lloyd Hansen, he always gets what he wants. He’d only married your mother because of the connections she provided. With her he’d be able to spread his business out throughout the country. What he hadn’t expected was the delicious present she had been hiding. 

Tonight your mother was out with friends from college. Lloyd knew this was the perfect opportunity to get what he’d been craving. You. He could picture you up in your bedroom reading one of your countless books. It was cute how you always seemed to find ways to avoid him. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, he knew you felt something too. There was a magnetic pull between the two of you, and tonight would be the night he finally gets what he’s needed.

Lloyd makes his way up the stairs and stops outside your bedroom door. He’d expected to hear nothing, but instead he could hear what sounded like quiet whimpers. His eyes flutter shut as he leans in closer hoping to be able to hear you better. “Oh… Oh fuck, Lloyd.” There was no denying what he heard that time. You were in there touching what belonged to him. Without giving it a second thought, Lloyd quickly began to undress himself. This hadn’t been how he planned to do this, but when the opportunity presents itself how could he say no?

Once undressed, Lloyd opens your door. It takes you a moment to realize he’s standing there, and boy was he thankful for that. For that meant he was able to get a full spread eagle view of your soaked cunt. He watched as your finger meticulously rubbed your clit. The little moans that left your mouth were like music to his ears. It was when he let out a small grunt of approval that your eyes finally opened. 

The look of embarrassment washed over your face. But that look quickly turned into confusion and horror when you spotted that he was naked. Your eyes traveled down to his hard cock which was now between his large hand. Lloyd’s smirk grew when he saw that your eyes appeared to be glued on him. “What’s the matter? You’re acting like you’ve never seen a naked man before.” His eyes never once leave yours as he slowly strides across your bedroom. “Oh come on, sunshine. We both know what you were just doing — who you were thinking about. Come on, be a good girl, show me.” 

The more he talked, the more your body seemed to tremble from nerves. “I - I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lloyd.” He rolls his eyes at your attempt to play dumb. He wasn’t going to allow you to continue your charade of being so called innocent. “You really want to play that game? Fine, show me. Prove to me that you’re not soaked right now. Because you and I both know that your little pussy is dripping for me. Dripping for your step-daddy.” His words cause a small to leave your lips.

Maybe just this once you can give into your desires. Maybe just this once you can be bad. 

Lloyd could hear a semblance of a plea when he watched you lay back on your bed. Your legs spread wide, inviting him to come give you both what you need. But Lloyd lets out a small tut and shakes his head. “Sorry, sunshine. That pussy isn’t what I’m interested in right now. I’d rather fuck your untouched hole. Turn around now.”

[buckets-and-trees]

Welcome Home, Pumpkin [smashed]

Characters/Pairings: Lloyd Hansen x curvy Female!Reader Word Count: 1.9k Summary: Bad ethics. Zero impulse control. This is what everyone says about him. What will it mean for you tonight?

Content/Warnings: NON-consent / r*pe, dark story, use of pet name "Pumpkin," explicit smut (fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse), filming, taking pictures, hair pulling, choking, humiliation, kidnapping

Notes: This is the last AND DARKEST of three in a set of short stories with Lloyd served three ways - soft, soft!dark, and dark. The three feature the same setting, overlapping themes, shared thoughts, and bits of dialogue. Spiced is the soft!dark version.

sugar pumpkin | spiced pumpkin | smashed pumpkin

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You shut the door behind you and sigh, happy to be home after a long day - a long week, really. 

You slip your shoes off, drop your bags on the counter, and turn on some music before making your way down the hall to your bedroom. You want to change your clothes from the more pedestrian to something a little more tempting with lingerie beneath before your husband gets home. You’re expecting him back tonight. 

You jump when a deep, serious voice you aren’t expecting says, “Welcome home, Pumpkin.”

Your heart rockets into your throat, hand flying to your chest. “Who are you?”

He chuckles, rising from the spot he’d been perched on the edge of the bed. 

“Lloyd Hansen,” he answers, and makes a show of bowing slightly. 

You hesitate in the doorway, studying the face of the man whose name you’ve been warned about. The steel blue eyes, the sharp jawline, the ridiculous mustache you hoped to avoid indefinitely. 

He looks you up and down slowly, then sits back on the bed. “I see why your husband decided to commit himself to matrimony. I’d almost do it to lock down a sweet thing like you. Almost.”

You widen your eyes slightly and chew your bottom lip. His eyes study you as much as you’re studying him, and you don’t want to give away how terrified you are. 

“Your wonderful, dreamy husband is supposed to be back soon, isn’t he, Pumpkin?” he says, question rhetorical, voice dripping in saccharine sweetness. 

You nod, hoping against hope it will deter this man. 

“Oh,” he coos, “I have a good girl on my hands, don’t I?” 

“Please, please, just go,” you venture a plea, trying to keep your voice as even as you can. “You can leave without any trouble.”

“You’re so sweet to offer, but here’s shit of the situation: your husband took something I really wanted, caused me a lot of trouble, so I’m here to take something from him.”

“Take whatever you want,” you offer, desperate to satisfy and send him away if you can.

“Dangerous word choice, Pumpkin,” he says, stalking forward, “because the plan is you.”

Your breath catches in your throat as Lloyd Hansen approaches, his predatory gaze never leaving yours.

"Me?" you choke, your voice barely audible. You take an involuntary step back, and your body presses against the door.

He places his hands on either side of your head, effectively caging you in. Lloyd's lips curl into a cruel smile. "Oh yes, you. The most precious thing Nick Fowler has. I'm going to enjoy watching him suffer, knowing I have you."

Your mind races, searching for a way out of this nightmare. You glance towards the hallway, wondering if you could make a run for it.

As if reading your thoughts, Lloyd's hand shoots for your wrist, gripping tightly, and he drags you toward the bed. In one swift motion, Lloyd hefts you up, flips you around and has you on the bed pinned beneath him, body pressing into yours. He growls into your mouth as he claims you in a filthy kiss. 

You push against him, but it’s futile. Nick has this much strength, but he never uses it against you. Your eyes prick with tears of humiliation and fear. Lloyd’s rough hands shouldn’t be on you at all, but they’re everywhere and touching you in ways that are far too intimate - ways that your mind is vehemently reeling against but that your body doesn’t know how to do anything but respond to.

"Now, now," he purrs, leaning in to speak directly in your ear like only a lover should. "No need to be frightened. I'm not going to hurt you… much."

Your mind races, searching for a way out of this nightmare. You think of your husband, and wonder desperately if he might arrive home early, if there's any chance he could save you from this dangerous situation. But even as the thought crosses your mind, you know it's unlikely. Nick isn't due back for hours.

Lloyd's hands continue to roam your body, and you try to squirm away from his touch. "Please," you whimper, "don't do this."

He chuckles darkly. "Oh, Pumpkin. Begging already? We've barely begun."

He props himself up slightly on one arm, and his other hand reaches to tear the front of your shirt open, rending the fabric in two. You look up at him, terrified and trembling, waiting with bated breath. 

He unbuttons the top of your pants and drags down the zipper, all the while looking in your eyes. 

His fingers dip into your panties, and he goes straight for the cut of you, slipping a finger inside. 

You cry out, but your hips arch for more of what it usually craves, betraying you to this monster.

“Such a sensitive little thing,” he murmurs, adding another finger and thrusting them inside you.

You wriggle and writhe beneath him, unable to control your body’s response to his touch. He watches with dark satisfaction as you lose yourself in the moment.

���I knew it,” he whispers. His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing in slow circles. “Knew you would be fun to torment.”

Your breath comes in short, ragged gasps as Lloyd's skilled fingers work their magic. You hate yourself for responding, but your body continues to betray you, growing slick with arousal.

"Stop," you beg, even as your hips buck against his hand.

Lloyd chuckles darkly. "Your mouth says stop, but your body is eager for more." He curls his fingers inside you, hitting a spot that makes you cry out. "That's it, let me hear those pretty sounds."

You turn your head away, ashamed of the pleasure coursing through your body despite your fear and revulsion. Lloyd grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him.

"No, no, Pumpkin. I want to see your face when you come undone," he growls, his fingers working faster inside you. His steel blue eyes bore into yours, filled with a mix of lust and cruelty that makes your stomach churn.

Yet your body trembles, teetering on the edge of release. You try to hold back, but Lloyd is determined to hurl you over the edge. His thumb increases pressure on your clit, circling relentlessly.

"That's it," he encourages, a ghost of a smirk on his face. He pulls out his phone, aiming the camera at you. "Let's give your husband a little show, shall we?" Lloyd says, his eyes glinting with malice.

Your eyes widen in panic at the sight of the phone. "No, please don't," you beg breathlessly.

Lloyd just grins wickedly. "Oh, but I must. Your husband needs to see what he's missing."

His fingers continue their merciless assault on your most sensitive areas. You're helpless against the onslaught of sensation, your body betraying you as waves of pleasure build.

"Come for us, Pumpkin," Lloyd commands. "Let Nick see how much you enjoy another man's touch."

You shut your eyes and cover your face with your arms.

Lloyd's fingers curl inside you again, and with a strangled cry, you fall over the edge. He keeps torturing you for a few more moments, making you buck and try to push him away. He laughs, letting you finally have one small victory.

But the reprieve is brief.

He yanks the clothing completely down and off your bottom half, and then he’s between your legs, cock out, and pushing his thick, blunt head inside you. Your scream is weak, but it breaks out of your throat as you beat against his chest.

Lloyd growls, grabs your wrists, and pins them above your head in one of his giant hands.

Then he proceeds to fuck you.

Slowly.

Lloyd's pace is agonizing, each thrust deep and deliberate. You try to disconnect, to retreat into your mind, but he won't allow it.

"Look at me," he demands, voice rough. When you don't comply, he grips your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. "I said look at me while I fuck you."

You don’t realize you are crying until you hear your breath hitching against the backdrop of the music you had turned on when you got home. Tears stream down your cheeks as you stare into cold, blue eyes. Lloyd's mustache twitches as he smirks, clearly enjoying your distress.

"That's it, Pumpkin. Let me see that pretty face.”

Your tears only seem to spur Lloyd on, his thrusts becoming harder, but not faster. You try to stifle your cries, but each powerful movement forces small whimpers from your lips.

"Such sweet sounds," Lloyd murmurs, his breath hot across your face. "I wonder if your husband makes you sing like this."

You turn your head away, unable to bear looking at him any longer. Lloyd growls, displeased, and grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back.

"I don’t need to fuck you," he snarls. “I’m doing it because I can. I’m doing it because I want Nick to know how thoroughly I’ve violated you here, in his bed, and then I’m still going to take you and make him come find you.”

You sob and it only fuels more of Lloyd's cruel desire. He releases your hair, his hand sliding down to grip your throat. The pressure isn't enough to cut off your air, but it's a clear threat.

"Shh, shh," he coos mockingly. "Feel every inch of me. Remember this moment, because it's going to haunt you for a long, long time."

You try to block out his words, to focus on anything else, but it's impossible. His hips continue their relentless pace, each thrust sending jolts of unwanted pleasure through your body. You hate yourself for responding, for the way your walls clench around him involuntarily.

"That's it," Lloyd snarls. “Fucking come around my cock, Mrs. Fowler.”

He releases the pressure from your throat, and the rush of oxygen back into your lungs combined with the pleasure assaulting your cunt pushes you into another orgasm. Lloyd groans as you squeeze him, and you feel him twitch inside you, but he pulls out and shoots hot ropes of cum across your chest and your face, pumping his fist furiously up and down his cock, one short cruel laugh of triumph ringing out.

Lloyd kneels above you, and snaps pictures with his camera this time. He lets you curl in on yourself while he tucks his cock back into his boxers and zips up his pants. He gives a low whistle, and two men appear in the doorway to your bedroom. You choke back another sob.

“Get up,” he orders. “You can either walk out to the van or these two will haul you out.”

Desperate not to have anyone else touch you, you scurry off the bed. You reach for your discarded underwear and jeans, but Lloyd barks, “No, leave it. You’re coming just like that.”

You look up sharply, opening your mouth to protest, but it dies when you see the gun in his hand pointed at your head. Fresh tears streaming down your face, you straighten up, and walk, humiliated, out of your bedroom in only your bra and your torn shirt, Lloyd’s hot, sticky cum still on your skin, and it’s all you can do to hold back your sobs until you’re curled in a ball in the dark of the trunk of a car.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

all Welcome Home, Pumpkin stories

...

And so it ends.

[aspenous]

As an absolute sucker for A/B/O Au's I love the idea of Kim Suho getting thrown into that kind of verse.

Imagine living your life, dying (?) And waking up to the concept of alpha, beta & omegas being the norm???

Plus the number of changes he'd have to deal with in his new body (omega!Lloyd hc).

This naturally brings only trouble for Javier (ノ^o^)ノ

It turned into a ramble more than anything tbh. Don't mind that <3 if there's anything plot vise I forgot/overlooked thru this it's cause my memory is A s s)

Javier POV lowkey:

Lloyd couldn't get any weirder. To add onto his sudden change in demeanor, he'd begun to get reckless with his scent as well. A scent similar to a Clementine or Tangerine that wafts in waves whenever Lloyd is particularly pleased with himself or got his way with another contract. Its a sharp contrast to the smell of booze everyone was used to, and it more often than not left a few townsmen sputtering when they spoke with him. Javier was left to deal with this change too, except he was beside his master 24/7. When that scent would hit him full force every morning, leave his nose twitching when Lloyd gets into the rhythms of his new work and when it calms into something comforting around noon; when the days almost gone and Lloyd decides to rest.

Javier first chokes up this lack of scent control to Lloyd's cold turkey sobriety. But it's been weeks now. Almost two months and Lloyd still hasn't tried to restrain his scent. Worse, others seem to be picking up on it as well. Loitering around the young master when they get the chance, chatting it up now that Lloyd wasn't defaulting to throwing chairs and yelling. Lloyd himself doesn't seem to enjoy it either; after a few minutes of chatter his lip would start to twitch and that scent of Tangerine (it was definitely closer to tangerines than clementines) would sour. Javier learns to take that as close enough a hint to pry his master away from the crowd, spill a white lie about how he's needed elsewhere and get Lloyd some air. He tries not to be pleased about how Lloyd visibly relaxes when it's just the two of them.

"Master Lloyd–" Javier is at his wits end. He's a patient man. Strong willed and resilient when it comes to most obstacles. His Master however? His loud , arragont, obnoxious at times master being this stupid? Javier is a patient man but he's a man nonetheless. A Knight who's had to deal with his masters turbulent scent that just doesn't want to leave him alone. And worse, Lloyd turns back to him with a genuine look of confusion (as genuine as it can be). Javier ends up questioning his master through a locked face and Lloyd in response looks bewildered. "The drinking must have hit me worse than I thought" is all he gets. Javier refuses the sleeping spell that night, throws a hand over his masters mouth before he can get a word in and declares to help him control his scent again. From then on they spend an hour every night before bed going through the motions, and Lloyd (after months) finally learns to control his own scent. Javier sighs in relief, and tries not to think about how he misses that familiar tangerine scent.

Master Lloyd seems to loose his filter as well. Not when around the staff, count or contracted men he's hired no. Only when it's just the two of them, in a moment of what Javier could've hoped was peace before his master opens his mouth. "You smell like mint." he says unabashed. "I'm safe when you're here aren't I?" He laughs with no shame. "I trust you." He declares. Javier understands this is comradery of some kind. A trust and faith in him that no one else has given him before. His master is far too good at feeding that quiet voice in the back of his mind, and Javier let's him. (Alpha instincts have low standards lmao)

It's after they get back to the estate that Lloyd gets his heat. It's not hard to notice. He asks for seconds during meals, sleeps late into the mornings, speaks more with his summons than with anyone outside the estate and avoids half the staff like the plague. It's rather obvious when that overripe scent of tangerine clings to his skin and his expressions screams dazed more than anything. The count had noticed, Javier had as well, but Lloyd hadn't. Despite being days into Pre-heat, his master still drags himself out of bed and goes about the motions, despite how miserable he looks. It ends up being Javier's job (once again) to pull him aside and question him. "My what-" is all he gets before Javier realizes he has more on his plate than he expected.

(+I like to think heats can be sexual and non-sexual given the circumstances!)

His pillow is missing. Javier turns his room inside out and still can't find it. He assumes he'd left it where he last slept; Lloyd's room. When he enters said room however, he doubts he would've found it if he tried. The beds drowned in pillows and blankets. The summons are jumping around in their own world until they notice Javier and greet him with small chirps and sounds. Javier ends up smelling Lloyd coming before the door opens. Sweet Tangerine and hints of earth that hit him when the door opens. He finds his pillow then, tucked under his masters arm as if it belonged there. Javier blanks out for a moment. "Ah Javier! Great timing. I was just looking for you." Lloyd smiles. Something often quiet in Javier's gut comes to life then and there. He doesn't end up on the chair that night. Lloyd doesn't let him. Spouts nonsense about how the chair isn't comfortable and how important sleeping positions are and only shuts up when Javier relents. He ends up in Lloyd's nest, the only barrier between him and the other being his own damned pillow. He falls asleep without the sleeping spell that night.

That's it for now? That's a lie my brains rattling with more HCs but I should stop here lmao. If people like this word vomit I'll make a part 2.

[kindaasrikal]

I got bored so now I’m slapping you all with Lloyd headcanons from someone who percieves him as a stupid teenager. Yippe.

Lloyd, despite everything, is the BEST when it comes to money. Especially with negotiations. If the original price of something is ‘unfair’ to Lloyd, he will make sire that price of 300 drops down to 20 bucks. No one understands how he does it, least of all Ronin who feels like he just got robbed of 280.

Lloyd’s hair is naturally blonde, the same shade as Wu’s, whose hair was exactly like Lloyd’s grandfathers, the Fsm. Misako, Garmadon, and Wu all already knew that Lloyd got the blonde from the Fsm, but Lloyd, oh poor innocent dumb 10/15 year old (early seasons, so right after the tea and after they met Misako) Lloyd, had a crisis over it. After finding out Misako and Wu were almost a thing, and having no idea how the Fsm looks like, he waddled over to Wu one night, tears in his eyes, and asks his uncle why he has blonde hair. Wu, not thinking much of it, was prepared to start explaining science to him as well as show a picture of the Fsm. Until, he saw the rhetorical worry and the accusation in Lloyd’s eyes.

“Ah…nephew. What are you really asking me right now?…”

“Wu…Garmadon is my dad, right?????” And Lloyd’s about to start sobbing. Wu had to sit him down, explain he would never, and bombard Lloyd with photo’s of the Fsm and young Garmadon, who looks exactly like Lloyd. Safe to say that the next day Zane began teaching Lloyd everything he should’ve learnt in school. Specifically science.

Lloyd, after losing his element by almost dying, learnt how to manually make his eyes glow. So sometimes it’s a dim light, other times he rivals a flash light. He loves using it in staring contests, he cackled the first tike he used it on Jay who yelped back and couldn’t see anything other than a weird shadow light thing for the rest of the day. Jay then bribed Zane to do that to Lloyd, who learnt his lesson to only ever flash his eyes at Kai.

Lloyd used to read fanfiction on Wattpad years ago in Darkley’s, so sometimes when he’s captured or in a situation, he starts narrating like a 14 year old girl with a crush on BTS/Harry Styles/One Direction. “My glowing green emerald eyes stared deeply into the abyss, hoping someone, anyone would come save me…and slowly, as my lean and strong body wiggled for freedom, I saw Fritz Donnegan-” “LLOYD I SWEAR WHEN WE GET OUT-”

Lloyd knows how to tap dance. To doom.

Once, Lloyd tried to be Spider-Man by using his element to make green lasso’s or smth. Little did he know he almost blew up half of Ninjago city when everything he grabbed with them started blowing up. You learn something new everyday. Though, the Commissioner didn’t like that excuse all that much.

Lloyd enjoys growing his extras two arms out and then hanging off of Cole’s back like how baby’s do with the baby carriers. He didn’t like that comparison all that much, Kai.

Lloyd is the type of person to do things so reckless, especially when it comes to emotionally attached villains. He will happily cuss out his dad when he’s on a oni rampage, yes he will go out and have coffee with Harumi, the girl who is knows to all of Ninjago city as the quiet one and call her “Salumi” the whole time, yes he will summon Morro and tell him all the cool stuff he did as the real green ninja, yes he will visit Pythor and give him snake food as a present. All of them are concerned and/or annoyed.

Not many people realised how much Lloyd looked like Misako until he wore her glasses as a joke. She started lecturing him about how bad his eye sight could get if he kept doing that, and all he said was “I’m not even human, i don’t count.”

Once Lloyd went to a place that prides itself for its inclusivity, and then had no idea if he should go to the mens bathroom, the dragons bathroom, or the oni’s bathroom. After taking a peak into the latter two, he quickly decided the mens bathroom is safer. Much safer. He dragged Nya to help him complain to the restaurant about there being no dragoni bathrooms around here and got free food out of it. So worth the embarrassment of saying “How am i supposed to reach the toilet??? HOW????”

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Pretty As A Picture

Title: Pretty As A Picture

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader

Fandom: The Gray Man

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: What started as a hobby day in the park turns into Lloyd Hansen showing you why taking photos of strangers is a bad idea.

Warnings: Murder Daddy, gun, murder(not Reader), chase, knife play, kidnapping, pet names(gumdrop, princess), slight dacryphilia, Sir kink, blood, language, head injury, bondage, cutting clothing with a knife, DUBCON, unprotected rough p-in-v sex, pussy slapping, hyperspermia, slight aftercare, implied captivity

A/N: This is my late submission to @the-slumberparty’s Naughty or Nice Challenge. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

You sit on the bench in the park, digital camera resting against your sternum as it dangles from the strap around your neck. The sky shines above you and illuminates the world around you as you look for something to capture. It’s been so snowy and the park’s surfaces are covered in white fluff. You had to wipe off the bench considerably to be able to sit down on the old wooden seating.

Your knee-length puffer coat is zipped and buttoned, but you still cross your arms to retain heat when the wind sweeps through, blowing snow in your face. You’ve taken about a handful of photos of empty swings and the slide that has become an ice luge. You hear voices nearby and turn toward the sound.

Two men are talking in the front seat of a town car parked on the edge of the park. Strange that they would pick here to have a casual conversation, but you can’t blame them. You came here for the peace too.

Curiously, you raise your camera and point it at the men. You zoom in, trying to read their lips, snickering when you see the younger man’s mustache. That was a choice. You catch little snippets here and there. But you can’t put all the pieces together. You are just about to lower your camera when movement surprises you.

You freeze when you see the man with the mustache on the passenger side bring out a pistol with a silencer on the end of it. He points it at the man in the driver’s seat and pulls the trigger. The mustachioed man then proceeds to wipe down the interior of the car and exits.

He turns to face the park, putting his hands in his pockets. He closes his eyes, tilting his head from side to side to relieve tension in his neck. When he notices you, you lower the camera slowly and wish upon wish that you can make it back to your apartment before he catches up to you. 

You let your camera hang around your neck and rise from the bench. Turning on a dime, you race between the swingset and head for your building. You are barely past the seesaw when you feel the man’s body crash into yours. Air escapes your lungs as you hit the ground and your camera is whipped to the side of you. You are disoriented for a second before you are turned around and grabbed by the front of your coat.

“Well, what do we have here? A little spy, maybe?” The mustachioed man removes one hand from your coat to reach into his pocket and withdraws a butterfly knife, holding it to your neck, “Who do you work for?”

You squeak when the point of the knife meets your skin, the sharp poke keeping you from moving. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just taking photos of the park. I didn’t see anything.”

He turns the knife slightly, the tip penetrating your neck. You feel the sting of the cut as a drop of blood slowly trails down the blade. He watches as you plead with your big doe eyes for him to let you go.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Oh, gumdrop. Anybody who says ‘I didn’t see anything’ most definitely saw something. The question is: What do I do with Little Miss Photographer?” His tone could have been considered sweet, if not mocking.

“Please, let me go. You can have the camera. Just please don’t hurt me, Sir.” Unshed tears blur your eyes and you try to blink them away but they fall down your cheeks.

He bites his bottom lip, shaking his head slowly. “Calling me Sir and crying for me? I just may have an idea of how to...take care of you, princess.”

He pockets the knife, the pressure of it releasing from your neck. Standing you to your feet, he turns you to start walking to the left, away from the direction of your apartment. With one hand on your coat, he reaches down and grabs the camera as you walk, his long legs moving faster than your shorter ones.

Once you get to a car, he tries to put you in the front seat but you get the sudden urge to fight for your life. You let him open the door then you kick it closed, turning in his arms and scratching at his face. He jerks away when three nails make contact with his forehead and slide down to his temple.

“Fucking bitch!” Blood wells to the surface and starts to trickle down his face. He grabs you by the skull, bringing you toward him before he smashes your head into the passenger door. It slows you down and your head pounds. Your legs are out from under you as he picks you up bridal style and takes you to the back of the car. 

You are barely alert while he speaks to you. “It didn’t have to be like this, gumdrop. All you had to do was get in but no, you had to be a brat,” He sets your feet down on the ground so he can grab a key fob from his pocket. The trunk opens and you are lifted inside, the zipper on your long coat being pulled down to reveal your clothing underneath. “Well know this. I don’t tame brats, ok? I correct them. Now, you get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when we get there.” He taps the end of your nose and winks down at you.

Your vision swims but you register him leering at you while licking his lips. He’s kind enough to not close the trunk too hard. You hear his steps crunching in the snow as he walks around the car. A door opens and closes, the engine turns over. You lurch toward the back of the car when it starts to move away from the curb. The darkness of the space and the steadiness of his driving lull you to close your eyes, falling asleep soon after.

"...you there, Gumpdrop?” 

You hear a voice that feels distant. Slowly, you pick your head up and open your eyes to see the man with the mustache sitting in front of you on a bed. He has two flexi-strips holding together the scratches you gave his face. Your coat is off, you are left in your fuzzy green sweater and black skirt. You try and move but you only wince when you look up to see your hands cuffed to the framework of the headboard. Your thigh-high sock-clad feet are left free and his hand idly moves up and down your shin.

When you try to move your leg away, he holds it back and squeezes your ankle as a warning. You don’t want any more head trauma so you resign yourself to doing whatever he wants.

“I am so glad you’re awake. You have no idea how hard it was to keep my hands to myself. Well, I did take these,” he reaches into a pocket and pulls out the familiar white panties, and waves them in your face, “Oh don’t worry, I didn’t play with that pretty little pussy. Wanted you awake for that.” He winks at you and stands. 

You watch as he walks away, listening to his footsteps going and then coming back. In his hands is your camera, safe and sound. He brings it up to his face, the lens moving forward and back before you hear the snap of the shutter.

“God, you are too damn sweet, gumdrop,” he coos, kneeling on the bed between your legs. He lifts your skirt and snaps a few photos of bare pussy. He hums, letting the camera dangle from the strap around his neck. The butterfly knife is back out, you shudder and he puts a hand up. “Calm down, pretty girl. Just gonna cut these pesky layers off you so don’t move unless you want me to cut you.”

You shove fear down and nod, following as he cuts through your skirt and sweater like butter. When he gets to your bra, he hooks a finger between your sternum and the fabric, cutting into the center of the material. When you are laid bare in front of him, he cups his crotch and groans. He raises the camera again and snaps away.

He takes the camera by the strap off of his neck and sets it on the nightstand. As he moves his hand back, he takes the opportunity to squeeze your tits. Pinching your nipples, he chuckles when you whine.

“Please...um, Sir?” you blurt, a mix of pain and pleasure radiating through you. You wish you could close your legs to get some friction but he is back between them.

“Lloyd,” he offers, still tweaking your nipples, “You can call me Lloyd, gumdrop.”

“Lloyd…um, please… uh,” You subconsciously begin to twist your hips and he gets the hint.

“Aww, my little princess needs some attention on her little pussy, huh?” You’re only turned on by his mocking tone and condescending words. He leans in to kiss and nip at your neck while he grinds his covered dick against your now slippery folds. “Alright, alright. I won’t tease you anymore. I know you need this much more than I do, gumdrop.” He uses one hand to unzip his pants and pull out his stiff dick. 

Although it is obscured from your vision, by the way he has to tilt his hips, you can tell he is packing a sizeable length. Covering the tip in your juices, he taps it against your clit. When he enters you, the stretch has you hissing along with Lloyd. He tilts his hips away from you and then comes back, going a bit deeper inside you. Adjusting his arms, he wraps one under your head and the other hand goes to hold your side while your legs wrap around him.

By the time you are used to his size, his hips are slamming into the backs of your thighs. His hand is sure to leave bruises on your hip and you don’t give a fuck in the slightest. He’s already restrained you and cut your clothes off. Might as well be fully debauched, right?

“Shiiiiit, this pussy is squeezing my fucking dick so good. I can feel you holding back, gumdrop. Let go for me.” He lets go of your hip and uses his thumb to pay attention to your clit. While he leans on his other hand, he clutches the bedspread as his hips continue their onslaught.

Your climax was just out of reach, like a word caught on the tip of the tongue. Lloyd locks eyes with you and lifts his hand, bringing it down to slap your puffy folds. You squeal and it only makes Lloyd slap it again. And that is how you discovered that this was a kink for you.

The tight band that held together your resolve snaps and on the third slap, you lose all control of your body. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding in a long moan, your legs clamping around Lloyd’s waist. Your walls flutter around his cock and your orgasm washes over you like a warm summer rainstorm, refreshing and necessary.

“That’s a good girl! Fuck, you are clamped around me like a goddamn vice. Oh, shit. I’m gonna cum, princess. Shit, shit shit!” Lloyd thrusts into you a few more times before pulling out and fisting his dick until he’s shooting thick, white ropes across your belly, chest, and neck.

You stop counting the spurts of cum after eight, watching as you essentially get glazed like a donut. He squeezes the head of his dick, pushing out the last dregs of his orgasm. He grabs the camera again, his eye lining up with the viewfinder. “Smile pretty for me.” 

You’re so fucked out that you smile when he asks. He snaps the photo and puts the camera back down. He leaves the bed and walks off, you hear him go down the hall and come back. He carries a wet washcloth and wipes you down, cleaning off the sticky substance before tossing it over his shoulder.

Lloyd opens a drawer in the nightstand, retrieving a small key, and unlocks your handcuffs one by one. He doesn’t offer to check your wrists for bruising, but you don’t expect him to. You’re more than surprised that he wiped his cum off of you, you didn’t want to push it.

“Now, gumdrop. So we’re clear, I’ve already made up my mind. I’m gonna keep you here with me. You’re gonna be my little playtoy. Whenever I need to take out frustration, I’m gonna take it out on this little pussy of yours. Or option B: I could kill you. Your choice.” 

And just like that, your fate is sealed. 

“Option A,” you mumble, tears line your eyes as you yawn.

“I knew you were a smart girl.” He pets your head and your eyes lose focus as you drift off into a dreamless sleep.

A/N: I really wish Lloyd would give me a break sometimes lol. I think I got this posted literally on the last day of the challenge.

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[imtryingbuck]

She’s gone

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: The team lose their friend (I’m bad at summaries sorry)

Word count: 1,695

Warnings: Angst. Sad times. Swearing. Reader threatens to bite people. Children get thrown (fun) Death

Translation: мисс мисс плохой парень - miss, miss bad guy./ ты хочешь летать? - do you want to fly? (if translations are wrong please let me know, thank you)

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

6 years ago.

Fury and Maria walked into the briefing room where everyone was waiting “I’m just going to get straight to the point, an organisation going by the name of The Reapers have threatened to blow up a hospital in Russia- yes Y/n?”

“Why?”

“I was just getting to that part”

“Okay you can proceed”

“Why thank you. Now as I was saying, they want their leader to be treated for- yes Y/n?”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“You know Birdie if you stop interrupting me you might find out” Smiling sarcastically towards her.

“That’s true, continue Mr Furry” Everyone chuckles at her nickname for him.

“Their leader has a heart defect, a British heart surgeon who is the best of the best is in Russia to help out - Y/n put your hand down - they want him to be treated, they’ve been flagged up by the FBI as a terrorist organisation so obviously they’re not getting any help. Now they’re threatening to blow said hospital up, now Y/n you can ask your question”

“Why don’t they just do it and just fuck up - language I know - by putting in a teeny tiny little bomb inside of his chest, wait until he leaves and then… BAM, he dead.” She slams her hand on to the table “Ow that hurt. But anyway why don’t they just do that instead of letting hundreds of innocent people die?”

“She’s got a point” Tony agrees.

“Thanks dad” Receiving a salute as a response.

“Where will we get this teeny tiny little bomb from?” Fury asks with his arms crossed.

“Me”. Saying it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world “I’ve been working on it for awhile now and it’s great, my little baby is perfect if I do say so myself” She speaks with pride lacing her voice.

“It won’t work, the FBI wants them alive so they can be questioned”

“But why? And also why are we being involved if we can’t kill them?”

“I don’t know, it makes no sense to me either and the reason why you’re being involved is to be there when they do something-“

“Oh fantastic. So we just have to wait for them to do something bad and then we can kill them”

“The girl might have a point” A voice comes from the doorway.

“Ew I’m a woman”

“Sorry, the woman might have a point”

“And who are you?” Steve asks.

“I’m Special Agent Lloyd Johansson with the FBI Counter Terrorist Unit. As I was saying this gir-woman might be on to something. Okay let’s say we have a bomb placed in him how close by does he have to be in order for it to go off?”

“I can set it off from the comfort of my bed”

“If I give the go ahead on this Fury I want her to be a member of my Unit”

Everyone was ready to protest at Agent Lloyds comment but Y/n jumped in first

“Over my dead body! No. No fucking way will I work for the FBI. Nope. No. Fury I won’t do it! I’ll eat his face off if I have to!”

The whole room fell silent at her last words.

“Okay maybe I won’t eat his face, Jesus people it was a joke! But no Larry I won’t join your unit”

“Lloyd, my names Lloyd”

“Sorry Lawrence. But no means no, thanks for playing though” 

Lloyd speaks directly to Fury “I like this one! Okay you’ve got the go ahead to plant this bomb but I will be joining you guys”

“Suit up we leave in 20 minutes” Fury says as he leaves the room.

On the quinjet 15 minutes later Fury’s telling everyone their part. Y/n was sat down and was getting her headphones out when Lloyd sits down next to her.

“Hey”

“Hi?”

“What’s your name again?”

“Natwanda”

“No it’s not” He chuckles.

“Why ask me when you already know the answer?”

“Why does Fury call you Birdie?” Lloyd asks changing the subject.

“Because I have a bird tattoo”

“Why a bird?”

“It’s free. Just like me”

“Cool so are you datin-“

“Yeah, see the guy with the metal arm who’s giving you dirty looks. Him. And he’ll break you like a pretzel”. She gets up and moves closer to Bucky.

“Like a pretzel?” Bucky chuckles.

“Yep, hey you wanna listen to some music with me?” Already handing him one of the buds.

“It’s not going to be Black Sabbath again will it?”

“Bee Gees?”

“That’s fine”

“Don’t wanna hurt your precious old man ears now do we?”

“What was that?”

“Nothing”

Touching down near the hospital, the team moved into place.

“Buck something’s not right about this…”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, something’s off”

And just as she said that all that was heard was gunshots and screams.

“Everyone move in!”

Gunfire and chaos erupted from all around as Y/n approached alongside with Bucky who was followed closely by Steve and Nat.

“Get down” Steve orders a split second before he throws his shield. “Y/n go left, Bucky go right, Nat you stick with me”

“Ay Ay Captain” Y/n salutes as she takes the left corridor.

There was way more of The Reapers than they had originally thought. As her gun gets jammed she throws it to the ground and releases her claws, trying to push The Reapers back and help getting people out as much as she could.

She had just cleared the 7th or 8th room when she heard Thor’s deep voice from the other end, as she turned to face him a huge explosion hit from her end of the corridor.

She could hear Bucky’s and Thor’s screams coming from her comms though she was to disoriented from the blast she managed to mumble out “I’m okay. I’m okay Buck I promise”.

Hearing her voice come through his comms and hearing her repeat she’s okay calmed him down. He was busy helping doctors move patient after patient out of harms way when the whole building shook. His heart jumped to his throat as he realised the explosion came from her end of the hospital.

Slowly the gunfire ceased, they all met up at the checkpoint they had agreed to. As soon as Bucky sees her he pulls her to him for a hug, checking over for injuries straight after.

“We still have kids on this side of the building we need to get out” Nat says.

“We’ll get them don’t worry. Y/n are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Someone best have a donut ready for me soon or I’m gonna start biting people”

“You and your donuts kid. C’mon let’s get to work” Tony chuckles.

A little girl no older than 8 grabbed Y/n’s attention by pulling on her arm “мисс, мисс плохой парень” pointing over to a man who had a gun pointed at Thor.

“ты хочешь летать?” She asked the little girl who just smiled and nodded, “Bucky! Catch” just as he turns around, he sees a little girl being thrown towards him.

Running towards Thor a gun is shot. Then another.

“Y/n? Y/n are you hit?” Thor panics.

“Yeah but I’ll live, he won’t though”.

“You…you took a bullet for me? What were you thinking?”

“Of course I did, and I’ll happily do it again. And Thor my love, you should know me well enough by now, I don’t think, haven’t got a brain inside my skull” Chuckling as she walks off.

“Lady Y/n you need to ge-“

“Thor I’m fine, I promise”

Going back to where she was originally at before she continued to help passing the kids in to Bucky’s waiting arms. All that was left on that side of the building was Y/n, Thor and 5 more children.

“Thor jump down next to Buck, and I’ll throw these kids at you two”

“What’s with you and throwing kids?” Bucky asked.

“It’s fun, no honestly it is and they love it. Well that little girl did anyway, come on Thor I haven’t got all day”

Thor listens to her, jumping down to stand by Bucky they both wait for these poor little children to be thrown at them. Just as she has the second to last one, a boy who looked up at her with wide brown eyes, she smiled and whispered “It’s okay”.

Holding the little boy in her arms she heard the sound of the building shifting “That’s not good” she whispered mainly to herself. “Thor! Catch!”. As soon as the child is free from her fingers the building starts to collapse.

“Y/n get out of there!” Screamed Steve.

But she couldn’t. There was another child, and there was no way on earth she would have left it behind. So she scrambled to get her, pulling the crying and terrified child into her arms she shouts over the deafening noise of bricks falling “Bucky!” As quickly as he could he hands the child over to an agent, just as they all hear one final gunshot.

Turning towards Y/n he sees her standing there with wide eyes, her mouth open and closes as she gasped for air. His blue eyes already filling with tears trail downwards until they land on the crimson circular splatter on her chest.

No one could move. Everyone was frozen.

The building came tumbling down.

“No! No! Y/n! Y/n! Baby answer me!” Bucky screamed “No no no no no” He kept repeating.

Thor gripped onto the super soldier as they both fell to their knees, holding his friend tightly in his arms as the soldier lets out gut-wrenching sobs that tore through his chest, screams echoing the now quiet street.

Fury drops to his knees, his trembling hands cover his head. Trying his hardest to make himself smaller.

The Avengers fall to their knees one by one with tears streaming down their cheeks. Their bodies each shook with an onslaught of sobs and tears.

Each agent of SHIELD followed suit.

Lloyd walks off and once he’s around the corner he raised both hands and says “Hail Hydra” before falling to the ground, foam pouring from his mouth.

Next>

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

[georgiapeach30513]

With Your Touch, Part 6

Summary: Lloyd and you have to establish clear boundaries

Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings:  explicit language, D/s dynamics, mentions of abuse, misogyny, detailed ways Lloyd wants to murder The Verb, Lyla Bee 🥺, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5K

Previous

Series Masterlist

Lloyd blows a soft breath of air over your face, and you remain asleep. Holding onto Lyla, while he clings to you both. It didn’t take long after the too serious conversation for you to nearly pass out from exhaustion, and he just holds you. His eyes move between you and Lyla, and he wonders how he ever got here. Gulping because you’ve ruined him.

He’s no longer the man that he used to be; careless, cocky, arrogant, snide, brutal, and so many other things. He’s Lloyd. He’s daddy. He’s heard you working with Lyla trying to get her to say that one word. When in reality he wishes that you would start teaching her another word. Mama.

It’s a title that you do deserve. More than he even deserves the name daddy. You spend nonstop time with her. Enjoy her. Take care of her like she is your own. And you are happy doing it. The way the two of you are curled into one another, he doesn’t have to question it. This is a mother’s love. A mother’s touch. She’s yours. And in that process of becoming a mother, you’re healing yourself of the deeply embedded wounds of your raising.

He doesn’t doubt you’ll continue to give Lyla the love and care that she deserves, but now it’s his job to make sure you have the love and care that you deserve. If you are to be giving yourself freely to him and Lyla, he has to reciprocate. He has to make changes. Tonight was too close. You could have been hurt more than you were. And you were hurt enough, and because of your upbringing, you just accept that men should be allowed to walk all over you, and use you to their every whim.

You’re to be seen not heard, and some big bad man will give you enough money for you to keep your mouth shut. Acting like money was worth it for the hell that you’re enduring. He doesn’t want you to think that what Chase did to you was okay, or that you deserved it because he was your boyfriend. That just makes it all the more worse. He was supposed to protect you. Lloyd will give you all the time that you need to process that, and he will be waiting. He’s never been more sure about something in his life. He wants you, and your worth the patience he has to have.

“Lloyd,” Ari says at the door of Lyla’s room. Lloyd rolls his eyes up to meet Ari’s, and he watches his partner sigh. It didn’t take a genius to know that Lloyd’s obsession has slowly turned into love. “He’s on his way to the warehouse,” Lloyd nods. He’ll deal with Chase slowly later.

“You guys need sleep,” Lloyd gives him a head nod, keeping his eyes on you. You and Lyla are keeping him grounded when his body is raging with the need to seek revenge. “Lloyd.”

“You’re going to wake her up. You…”

“Shh, her room is clean, and new sheets, but I think she and Lyla would sleep better in your bedroom,” he finally meets Ari’s eyes. “Yes. Not that you need my permission, but take them in your room. We need to talk,” Ari retreats quickly. He never is one to linger. He’s right. Lloyd shouldn’t hold the two of you all night, but he would.

He stands slowly, and only Lyla stirs. Her chubby cheeks smoosh more into your body, making her more adorable from her comfort being close to you. He doesn’t know how he’s going to get the baby out of the tangle of your arms without waking you, but he’ll stay there and wait for you to drift off again.

He treats your body like you’re the most delicate porcelain as he carries the two of you into his bedroom. Your body is so spent you only hum as he lays you down. Trying to untangle your arms around Lyla, and he lays her down right beside you. In the place that would be in between him and you. If he planned on sleeping tonight.

His heart feels as empty as his arms when he walks down the hall and into the living room. Staring at Ari who is distracted by something on the table, “What do you want me to do?”

“We’re not staying here,” Ari gives a nod. “I’m going to take some time off,” Ari nods again. “And I want that little prick kept alive. I need him mended, so I can torture that stye painfully slow. I want to rip his entrails out with my bare hands, and I want him to watch me finger knit with it.”

“You’re very graphic. But I don’t think you know how to knit of any kind,” Lloyd would find out. He wants the putrid stench to fade from life, knowing Lloyd Hansen took that last breath from him.

“I’ll figure it out on my time off. What more is there to discuss?”

Ari’s fingers drum on the table, contemplating how he’s going to talk to Lloyd about this. He’s a sensitive soul. Becoming more sensitive when it comes to ‘his girls’. “You’re falling,” Lloyd doesn’t respond. He doesn’t have to explain himself to Ari. The only one he will discuss his feelings with is asleep.

“I’ve seen it for a while. But tonight — Lloyd, you’re in fucking deep. Chase isn’t your enemy, and you battered his face,” not his enemy? Chase defiled you. That Verb deserved more pain than he felt tonight.

“What was I supposed to do? He was,” Lloyd’s face turns from anger to deep seeded agony. The veins in his arms ripple thinking about your pitiful cries. And that man antagonizing you. Demanding you, and you wailed. Your cries will haunt him, but the pain he made you suffer is unforgivable. “You didn’t hear her.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, and you know.”

“Then fucking say it.”

“You don’t like to get bloody. You wanted to feel his pain,” Lloyd starts to shake his head, but Ari raises a gun. “You could have shot him. Admit to me that you love the girl.”

“I don’t have to admit shit,” Ari smirks. Starting to lean back on the couch. “And even if I did, what does it fucking matter?”

“Why do you want to kill her father?” That is a bit more complicated. He didn’t see Roman physically harm you, but he knew he hurt you just by your actions alone.

“He tried killing her spirit. It seems fair. Is there a problem here?” Ari smiles, shaking his head no. “I feel you have something to say, and if you do, say it.”

“I have. You denied it. Lloyd, I hope you know what you’re doing. You’re making it a dangerous world for these two girls. They will need security detail. Or you’re going to have to scale back. I need you to know, I’ve got your back. That’s all. I’m not here to tease you, I just want you to admit to yourself how much that woman is sinking into your soul,” Lloyd breathes in deeply. Giving a nod to his friend as he turns to go down the hallway and back to his girls.

“And Lloyd. Take a bath. She’ll thank you for it. I had someone scrub the security footage. Nobody knows that the foul stench of an abscess tooth was here. That girl has been through a lot because of Roman. Maybe try talking to her about those experiences and how you can be different.”

“Are you giving me advice?”

“Yep,” Ari pops the p as he goes to stand up. “She wants to take care of you, too, buddy. She’s a good one. Don’t fuck it up.”

Lloyd watches as his most trusted friend leaves the apartment, and he collects himself, running his palm down the front of his face. He has no idea what he’s doing. He just knows that he wants to do it, and be with you. That’s all that mattered to him. Not the difficulty that could come with being with you. He’d make it work. He was already waiting on the final piece of the puzzle to make sure Lyla would be nowhere, but with him. And you.

You jump up in bed. Wiping off your arms, and face. Feeling him all over you. The creep’s smell was all over your skin, and you had to get him off. And then the panic. You weren’t in your room. You’re alone. “Lloyd! Lloyd!”

Smoke seeps beneath a door, and you know you’re dreaming. Looking down to your side, a sleepy Lyla whines, wiping at her eyes. “What are you doing? Lloyd!” You scream again, picking her up, you hold her close to you. Your skin crawls, and your chest tightens. You couldn’t breathe.

“L-L-Lloyd,” it sounds strangled as tears fall down your face. Feeling like the walls are caving in. You want to rock in place, but if that was smoke, then there’s fire. And you have to get out. “Lloyd!”

The door opens up, and Lloyd in just a towel has his eyes searching around the room. It wasn’t smoke. “Sweetheart,” he rushes over to your side, and pulls you and Lyla into his wet chest. “Are you okay?”

“Where,” you begin, and gulp. You try to calm yourself, and focus on his breathing. Lyla giggling a bit helps. Not to mention the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, “Where am I?”

“My bedroom. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. What…tonight wasn’t a nightmare?” Lloyd whispers no, and rubs a hand down your cheek. His grip never tightens, and your cheek is damp from the beads of water on his titties, and your tears. “I need to shower,” Lloyd reaches for Lyla, and she quickly looks up at you. Leaning into your body like a hug, not wanting to be away from you. “Can daddy hold you? I’ll…Lloyd can you sit in there with me?”

It’s nothing sexual, just the need to not be alone. “Yeah. Lyla, come on, baby. Let’s let Dolly take a quick shower. And we’re going to keep her safe and cozy. You want to wear one of my shirts?” You give him a nod and a smile. Words are a bit difficult now. Scooting to the edge of the bed, you give Lyla a kiss on her head before walking into the bathroom with the door open and you remove your clothes.

It doesn’t occur to you to close the door because that will create a barrier between you, and you don’t want that; fear it even. You don’t turn to see if Lloyd is watching, again, it’s not sexual. It just feels right.

Lloyd softly sings to Lyla while he sits on the edge of the sink, and you shower. His bathroom is so much nicer than yours. Shower heads in every direction and you let the water and soap wash the night down the drain. Breathing in the steam, and using his lullabies as a way to set you at ease.

“Did you kill him?”

Lloyd waits too long to respond, so you assume he did, but just doesn’t want to tell you. You aren’t new to death, “Do you want me to answer truthfully?”

“I’d prefer that,” closing your eyes, you stand in the warmth. Turning the water up as high as you can stand, you let the heat sanitize you from Chase’s touch, and your skin prickles and burns with the flowing fire.

“No, I didn’t,” his voice is so flat. “Why are you asking?”

“Do you plan on killing him?”

“Yes. Are you wanting me to spare him?” You peek around the edge of the shower. Your eyes lock in on his, and shake your head no. “I would if you wanted me to.”

Him saying that means more than you thought it would. You turn the water off, stepping right into his line of vision, and he fails to keep his eyes on yours. Instead his sight is roaming all over your dripping body. “I want you to do what’s necessary. One time when I was a child I begged my father to spare a man. He obliged. A week later we were thanked with a threat and the head of my mother’s cat. I won’t ask that of anyone ever again.”

He licks his lips as you grab a towel and begin to dry yourself off. Lyla already asleep again, but his hungry eyes can’t stop fucking you. It’s sick with the conversation at hand, but you love it. Love that he can boldly ogle you with no shame or care. And still not touch you. “The Verb isn’t a threat to me past a good beating. He’s not an enemy to my organization. But he is an enemy of mine, and he will pay for his sins against you.”

“I trust you,” you answer, leaving too many buttons undone as you walk in front of him. “You do what you need to. What you feel is the most satisfying and best.”

“Don’t tempt me,” his eyes are hard as he stares at your hardened nipples peaking up through his shirt. The ribbons of water wettening the material, and leaving little to the imagination.

“Don’t tempt you with my body or my approval of carrying out Chase’s punishment?” He smirks as his eyes linger at your chest. His desire to rip the shirt open, and attach his mouth to your tit blinding him. You purposefully didn’t fully dry yourself off. Letting the material mold to your curves. “Lloyd?”

“Either,” he gives a final look down your chest before he meets your eyes, “You’ve been tempting me the moment you walked into my life. And if it wasn’t for what that fucker did tonight, I would really be struggling to contain myself. If you want attention, ask. You don’t have to be a tease.”

You take a slow calculated breath. Your own eyes drifting down his toned impeccable body. Each cord of muscle is tightened as he tries to contain his need to pounce on you and claim you. The way he cradles Lyla with a delicate touch, makes him so much more sexy, “Will you — hold me tonight?”

He smirks. Extending the baby towards you. “I’m going to get her bassinet. That way I can hold you all night long,” you whimper at the thought. Nothing could make you feel more secure than his arms.

“Can you put her on my side of the bed?”

“Of course,” he bows as he walks out of the bathroom. Traveling the short distance to her room, you gaze down at her perfectly smooth skin. She’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. It seems silly, but the times you’ve imagined her being yours, and calling you mama are far too many. You love her. It didn't matter how much you wanted her to be yours, she couldn’t be. She had a mother elsewhere.

“Alright. I’m going to roll this here. You go ahead and put the Lyla Bee there, and we can snuggle,” with a lingering kiss to her head, you lay her into the bassinet. You get into the bed first, and place a hand on hers. Needing to feel her steady breathing, and you look over your shoulder as Lloyd lifts up the plush blankets. His boxers sit low on his waist. So low you see the sprinkling of hair right above his cock, and you wish he would just be nude.

He slides into the bed, and you release a sigh of relief as his arm wraps around your waist and pulls you tight up against his front. His mustache tickles the back on your neck, and you’ve never felt safer. Here in his arms makes sense and feels so right. Your eyes slowly close, and you feel a single kiss on your skin. But choose not to say anything, and he gives you another before inhaling your scent. And then, lightness.

A man with so much power that can strike instant fear should not be as soft as he is with you and Lyla, and yet, here you are. Wrapped in a secure safety cocoon of his arms, while you hold onto his baby. Resting in a sleepless dream. It’s the first time in years. And you love it.

Lyla shakes her head no, giggling because Lloyd tries to take her out of your arms. Her chubby little hands slap at his, until he finally relents, and quits torturing her. “Fine. Fine. I was going to show you your room, but maybe I should start with,” Lloyd gulps as he looks at you. His face flexes, and you wonder if he’s at war with himself. “Let’s look at Dolly’s room.”

“My room?” Lloyd nods, looking over you confused. “Our room,” Lloyd’s eyebrows raise as he nods his head. He may get used to you being more assertive. “I don’t want to be alone,” you haven’t wanted to be alone since that night. And now that he’s brought you out of the city, you want to be by his side, and prefer that Lyla is there as well.

“I didn’t ask for your explanation. If you’re comfortable with that, and that’s what you want. I think we’re both aware of where this relationship is going. And there’s something else I’d like to discuss,” Lyla lets out a big scream, her hand slaps your chest, and you look towards her. You’ll deal with his comment about where the relationship is going momentarily. Right now a nearly ten month old is begging for your attention.

Her mouth opens and closes, “Are you going to say dada? Go on, Lyla Bee, say dada.”

“Ahhh!” She screeches, looking up at you. A bit of frustration linked on her face, “Ma,” your eyes go wide looking towards Lloyd. “Mamamamamamama!!!” her daddy claps his hands. Laughing, smiling, and reaching towards her. Congratulating Lyla on her outburst of saying — mama.

“You did it! Oh my beautiful baby! You came in way too early, but you couldn’t help it,” your chest heaves with how hard you’re breathing. Unable to fully describe what you’re feeling, or even how you feel. She called you mama.

It’s not until you’re wiping your cheeks that you realize you’re even crying. You’ve never loved someone the way that you do Lyla, and even if you’ve imagined being her mother, and don’t correct people that call you her mom this is almost too much. Like the things you’ve been wanting are coming to fruition. Lloyd whispers your name as he pulls you into an embrace. He rests his chin on the top of your head, swaying the three of you back and forth. This would almost feel like it is going too fast had you not been watching Lyla for months.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“I’m not her mother though.”

“No, you’re not. You’re her mom,” Lyla repeats the syllable over and over again. Giggling, and trying to get your attention by smacking at your shoulder. “You might not have birthed her, but you’ve become her mom. It only seems fair, and if you don’t want her to call you that,” he exhales slowly, and you furrow your brows watching his face show so many emotions. “I’ll respect your wishes,” he didn’t want to respect your wishes, and still he would.

“Where does that leave us?”

“Just where we are. Me, waiting patiently for you to decide where you want this relationship to go.”

“And if I don’t want anything romantic?” This is such a lie, but you need to know. Would he force into a relationship if you said you didn’t want it.

“Then why are you asking about our room?” You didn’t realize you had been trying to backtrack the status that you had set until now. Lloyd offered for you to have a separate room from his, and you insisted that you share. Lloyd offered to sleep on the couch while you were in his room, but you pouted for him to snuggle with you, and he did.

He had given you space, ample amounts of times. Allowed you to set the tone of the relationship, and it was you every time that was pulling him back into something romantic. It wasn’t trauma bonding. While there was a traumatic experience between the two of you, you’d been feeling things for him long before that night.

You goaded him. You teased him. You felt yourself come over and over again with his name on your mouth. Pranced in front of cameras he hid in your room and put on a show for him. You wanted him to break, and he never did. You heard him stroking his cock and moaning your name, but that’s because you went looking. He didn’t cross boundaries that you had put up.

“I’ll admit that I sowed the seeds of my attraction towards you, and made it clear immediately. When I pulled you over my lap and spanked you, I did enjoy seeing your pussy leaking, dripping, and clenching around nothing. I knew that you wanted more than anything for me to fuck you right there. Have you leaned over the couch while I fucked you so deep you can’t see straight. But until you explicitly say the words, I am just your employer. But Lyla is something else entirely.”

Those filthy words oddly sound like a beautiful sonnet. Yes, Lloyd pushed, and even demanded to be a dominant role in your life, but it wasn’t a push that made you hate him. It made you desire him more. And you have spent months wishing the man would just tell you what he was going to do to and for you.

You are so tired of being what others wanted. He got it. You wanted it, despite how depraved it may be. So he made the decision from you. Letting you sink into his world of sin without compromising your morals, because he was making you. But you wanted him to.

There are ways that you are becoming exactly what was expected of you, a kept woman. Except the way that Lloyd treated you, it was like you actually had autonomy in the situation. With Chase it was what he wanted, when he wanted it. Lloyd gave you a freedom that you didn’t think you would ever get, and you hadn’t realized it. And then he made you crave his rules. Because you also wanted to break some of those rules. Wanted to see him lose control because you knew he would take you to a place where you didn’t have to think.

“Explain this to me like I’m a child.”

“I can’t explain the things I want to do to you then. Because you’re not a child.”

“Then just put it into simple terms,” his mouth quirks crookedly. As if this animalistic part of him understands the delicate dynamic of your relationship. Balance. It all relies on balance, and trust, and love, and respect. All things that you’ve never been given.

“When Lyla is awake, we are as normal a couple as our neighbors,” gone is the city life. Lloyd couldn’t take such chances with you and her. Now you’re out in the suburbs with sprawling land on the property, secluded at home and still close enough to a small town that you and Lyla can live and not have people constantly watching you.

“When she’s asleep, everything will depend on your behavior.”

“Oh?” You inquire. Your fingers softly scratch over Lloyd’s belly, and the sweetest little baby smiles her two tooth grin, looking between the two of her favorite people.

“You’re pushing it now because Lyla can’t talk. But if you misbehave, I will have to punish you. I will have to drag you over my lap, while your bare ass gets spanked. And depending on how well you take it, I just may put you on your knees, so I can fuck you like the slut you are,” he pauses, waiting to see how you respond to his degradation. Reading your visual cues. His lips press just below your ear, and he chuckles.

“You’re heating up. I bet if I put my hand between your thighs, I could feel your cunt pulsing with a need to have me buried in you. You need a safe word. And I will obey. And I will not go further if you want me to stop.”

Your mind races as his hand travels from your hip. Dipping lower and lower. Skirting over your core to the other leg. “What will it be?”

“Night — nightingale.”

“Good girl,” you preen, but his hand stops their movement. “Now, do you want to make lunch or watch the baby.”

“What?” You look at him confused. He was just…he’s a fucking tease.

“The things I want to do to you, Lyla Bee has no business being a part of. However, it is lunch time, and I’m famished. If you’re ready for me to fuck that pretty little pussy stupid, you’ll have to wait,” you glower at him, and he smiles. “That’s for all those times you put on a show for me. Exposing those pert tits. Later, if you don’t want me to touch you, you can give me a striptease. And I will keep my hands off you, and just watch, until you say go. Here, you take the baby. I’ll make us some lunch.”

“You’re mean,” you whine. It is obnoxious how pitiful you sound, but he is teasing you. Touching you everywhere that you want him, and denying you.

“Aww,” he kisses your temple softly, handing you the baby. His mouth lingers on your skin. His warm breath fans over you, and thankfully Lyla giggles to break the trance, “But I’m not cruel. If you want me, you get this, so we have to be adults and be patient. But I can promise you, I will treat you with the utmost respect, and I will never make you feel like you are a prop in our lives. Do you understand that? Teasing is fun, but I won’t push you beyond your limits. If you need me to be what I am when we’re sleeping, I need to know. If you need me to fuck you stupid, I need to know. If you want me to make sweet beautiful love with you, I need to know.”

“You’re giving me a choice?” You’ve never been given a choice as to how sex should be. You just let them decide for you.

“It was always your choice,” he answers solemnly. His head bows, and he walks away to quickly. His own head spinning as to what you could have endured, especially with that infected cut on his arm. The Verb. One day, Lloyd will enjoy ending The Verb’s life so slowly that he begs for a quick kill. It won’t happen.

“Where’s Lloyd?” Roman demands, walking into Ari’s office. He gets too close to the man, and with one finger, Ari pushes him back. Roman is a nobody in this organization. Ari could end him before Roman even blinks. But then he’d piss off Lloyd, “Levinson, where is Lloyd?”

“Not here,” he doesn't have to tell Roman anything about Lloyd’s whereabouts. That is a need to know basis.

“He hasn’t been here for over a week,” your father’s stature is pathetic. He’s a tall wide man, but he doesn’t have the control to wield fear into people. Lloyd could eat him alive. Smiling at the man while he forks out his innards. Roman may look the part, and he may be smart, but he’s a fool.

“I take it you didn’t hear about the break into his apartment?”

“That doesn’t warrant his absence,” oh, Ari may have to keep this conversation to himself. Anything involving you, sets Lloyd in a terrible mood. Ari’s eyes slowly glance down the man’s body. “What?”

“Do you even know who is living with Lloyd?”

“My daughter,” there’s a pregnant pause between the two of the men, before Ari chuckles. Roman could never understand feelings such as love. Women are lesser beings to him, and none lesser than you, “I don’t see any reason to get all upset and for him to be missing.”

“You didn’t even ask what happened,” Roman stands there, immobile. His eyes are blank. “Someone broke into your daughter’s room.”

“She’s alive?”

“Yeah,” Ari didn’t quite subscribe to the fact that Roman hated his daughter like Lloyd thinks, until this moment. His expressions never waivers. He’s completely unphased.

“Where’s Lloyd then?” Rolling his eyes, Ari sighs, and turns his chair back around. He doesn’t even flinch when Roman's hand slaps the wall. His voice growling and low, “He’s fucking her, isn’t he? Her bitch of a mother taught her well. Spread your legs for a willing participant to make you rich. Guess she learned from the best. Do I get a bonus for giving Lloyd a live in sex doll?”

Ari smirks, staring at the computer screen. Letting Roman monologue his way into a bigger pile of shit than he already was. “We’re the same. I guess you need a pretty one with good breeding to be your broodmare, and on your arm for galas. But Lloyd Hansen will always have his professionals that he can really have fun with. Women like my daughter are to be kept at home.”

Keep going, asshole. Ari gets it. He didn’t even know you like Lloyd did. But what is going on between the two of you, is nothing that Roman is describing. Roman is explaining himself, creating excuses to the way he is. His only wife, and his only child. Lloyd isn’t Roman, and that man is far from being Lloyd. No one but Ari has seen the way that Lloyd watches you curiously. Or the fact that he had a special task in finding Lyla’s egg donor. Lloyd would have her killed before she took Lyla away from you.

“I guess his next goal is to pretend the baby is my daughter’s. He’ll probably fuck her raw until she gives him a legitimate child,” Ari grits his teeth. The disdain he has for you and Lyla is appalling. “If she ends up pregnant, he owes me,” he says, spinning on his heels. “At least she’s worth something now.”

“He owes you a bullet in your fucking head, you idiotic moron,” Lloyd had mentioned it was time to prune the people in his circle. He knows the next one to go. But Lloyd wouldn’t be back until you allowed him in. And he’d almost broke down your walls now. You’d been letting him in little by little. Trusting him a bit more not to break you. And only then would Lloyd return. You are his only assignment. And the only thing that mattered to him.

His girls.

Next

Masterlist

@tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @theinheriteddutchess @rainydayandmondays @buckybarnesisdaddy @patzammit

@rebeccapineapple @slutforchrisjamalevans @marvel-wifey-86 @jesevans

@ughdontbeboring @infantasywonderland @vampy-doll @i-like-to-read-13

@missacidburn928 @charmed-asylum @superflannel @hisredheadedgoddess28 @lostinspace33

@abbyyourlocalmilf @saranghaey @rogersbarber @tas-renee @kmm-fluv

[steviebbboi]

Stevie BB 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge!

Howdy lads~ exciting news to share:

I just reached a 200 follower count on Tumblr 🎉🎉🎉

I kinda can't believe it? Writing is indeed good for my soul. Interacting with y'all on here has helped me with my mental and emotional wellness due to just finding such great community on here. Thank you for giving me the space to write and for following along/supporting in my writing journey 💖

With that spiel spoken, I wanted to host a writing challenge in celebration of this milestone! *squealing because i'm so excited to host*

Stevie BB 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge Masterlist

*you'll find all writing submissions and writing requests (answered) at the link above*

You could participate by sending in either:

✨ writing request via my Asks (💙)

and/or

✨ writing submissions (💥).

General Rules:

the challenge will start October 1st until the end of November (flexible on late entries for submissions only💥; let's say till mid-December or so).

I'll read/write for Chris Evans characters, Henry Cavill Characters, and Charlie Hunnam characters [and Bucky Barnes specifically lol] (these are my preferences but if there are other characters that you'd like to bring in, just ask me)!

for writing requests 💙, i will only be accepting requests (2 max/person; pls do not send more than 2 asks!) until the end of November.

for writing submissions 💥, go wild! submit as many as you like!

you can do both (send in a writing request 💙 AND send in a writing submission(s)💥) if you want to; rules still apply for the requests though.

use at least one prompt within your request 💙/submissions💥 from the lists below (but def. go crazy if you wanna use more than one! you don't have to claim any prompts).

works can be inclusive! poc, gender neutral, neurodivergencies, mid size/plus size/curvy readers are encouraged!

No word limits but please use a 'read more' after 200 words

Works can be part of an existing series but must be able to stand on their own

tag me @steviebbboi and use the tags #bbboi200celebration and #steviebbboiwritingchallenge in your entry so i can read/reblog your work! (If I somehow lose sight of your submission, please remind me and I'll take a look at it right away ☺️)

Most important one: Have fun!

How To Play:

✨ You must be 18+ to participate in this challenge!

✨ Choose one (or multiple 😏) BB's:

Chris Evans Characters

Steve Rogers/Captain America

Ransom Drysdale

Ari Levinson

Frank Adler

Curtis Everett

Andy Barber

Hayden/Harvard Hottie

Nick Gant

Jake Jensen

Johnny Storm

Lloyd Hansen

Henry Cavill Characters

Clark Kent

Napoleon Solo

Geralt of Rivia

August Walker

Charlie Hunnam Characters

Jax Teller

Raymond Smith *extra brownie pts if you write about him omg*

King Arthur

Sebastian Stan

Bucky Barnes [he's all by himself im so sorry lmfao 🥹]

✨ Choose one (or more) of the following prompts:

*if you don't want to write smut, you don't have to choose anything from the kinks prompt! feel free to only use the following two prompts :)

soft dom!BB

clothes/naked ratio

size kink

slow and deep 👀

breeding kink (non-pregnancy version)

somnophilia

free use

cockwarming

belly bulge

Squirting

consensual non-con

consensual dub-con

cumeating

creampie

anal/or dp

possessive/or protective manhandling!BB

oral sex

orgasm delay

dumbification

daddy/princess kink

overstimulation

sex pollen

prone bone

cockdrunk

threesome (BB/Reader/BB)

ass/pussy spanking

mild degradation

body worshipping

quickie/don't get caught (public sex, threats of exhibitionism, etc.) 😏

Grouchybb! who is only soft with you

Married and loyal!spouse

A/B/O

lumberjack!bb who is a teddy bear on the inside tho

mob AU

biker AU

soulmate AU

mutual pining/idiots in love

childhood besties to lovers

reformed playboy

professor AU

supernatural/mythical (gods, sirens, werewolves, witches, vampires, ghosts, oh my!)

frenemies to lovers

fwb to lovers

locked in AU/forced proximity

medieval AU

fake dating/relationship

sharing one bed

polar opposites attract

break up and make up

spy AU

meet cute

cowboy AU

gentle recluse!BB

brothers best friend!BB

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Yes, take it, slut"

"It's not that big of a deal."

"God, why do you always do this"

"You're impossible."

"Then I guess we gotta be quiet, huh?"

"We're trapped."

"Shh, you wouldn't want anyone to hear, or do you?"

"You're taking me so well, baby"

"Good girl" *for fem readers; adjust accordingly!*

"Tsk, uh-uh, c'mere, honey"

"You always feel so good around me, baby"

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Here, let me help you."

"Yeah, are you a cockhungry slut, now?"

"I hardly think that that's necessary."

"Don't be a brat, baby."

"Aw, does it feel good right there?"

"I'm sorry!"

"What do you want from me?!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"What do you think you're doing here?"

"Nope. Again."

"Don't worry, I got you."

"Just stay still, there you go."

"Just one more, I promise."

"C'mon, don't you wanna be good?"

"Stay over there!"

"You better hurry up, baby."

"Thaaaat's it, you're doing so well, honey."

"Uhm, I'm not sure that's going to work."

"Please, I'll beg, please!"

"Be honest."

"Be careful there, darlin'."

"Are you okay?"

"Are you sure you wanna go there?"

Scenarios? Any! Go. Wild.

✨ I love reading/writing angst w/HEA, soft dark (nothing too dark though), fluff and SMUT (as you can see w/the many many kinks).

no incest (stepcest is ok if tasteful lol), no infidelity, no watersports, no murder, no gore. if you're unsure if a trope is appropriate, ask me!

if im ever uncomfy with writing something, i will lyk and we can talk more about it to see if we could work with it!

feel free to ask any questions!

i think i got everything!

Have the best time, laddies~ thanks for celebrating with me!

All are welcome to join in the fun! ❣️

Tagging a few mutuals who may be interested but no pressure bbs:

@bigtreefest @mercurial-chuckles @stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork @buckets-and-trees @hotdamnhunnam @laurfilijames

@autumnrose40 @eloquentlytired @misscherry-26 @stellar-solar-flare

@darsynia @navybrat817