#soft!dark lloyd hansen x reader

[deliciousangelfestival]

Feeling Blue Without You - Lloyd Hansen

Summary: Working at Hansen Security can be stressful. What would happen if you left?

Words Count: 2,365

Warning: None

Author's Note: Hello, everyone; this one-shot is for the Lloyd Hansen Writing Challenge hosted by @hansensgirl and @cuttlefjsh. I chose the prompt: "Now, I'm gonna stop you right there, cupcake."

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more

“Sir, we need backup,” the agent said urgently to his boss, Lloyd Hansen, the head of Hansen Security. They were pinned down and surrounded by their opponents.

Standing before him, Lloyd clenched his jaw and grabbed his comm. “Send the reaper drone,” he commanded.

“No,” came the reply.

Lloyd's eyes narrowed. “No?”

‘BANG!’

A bullet whizzed past, forcing Lloyd to duck. “Can you hear that? They're shooting at us!” he barked into the comm.

“I did. I saw everything.”

“Then send the fucking drone!” Lloyd demanded, his voice rising in desperation.

“No. The air force won’t let us borrow the drone again since you destroyed it last time,” the voice replied coolly.

Lloyd rolled his eyes, frustration boiling over.

‘BANG!’

He ducked again, muttering a curse. “I'm dying here. If you don't want to use the drone, then what's the alternative?”

“I already sent one,” the voice replied.

“What?! A miracle?” Lloyd's voice dripped with sarcasm and desperation.

“1,” the voice started to count.

“What are you doing?” Lloyd snapped, glancing around nervously.

“2,” the voice continued.

“What does that even mean?” Lloyd demanded, his grip tightening on his weapon.

“3.”

“BOOM!”

In an instant, a missile landed, obliterating their opponents. The shockwave knocked Lloyd off his feet. He wiped the dirt from his eyes, coughing.

“Can you tell me beforehand?” he shouted into the comm, exasperated.

“I did, but no one replied,” the voice said, a hint of amusement in the tone.

Lloyd took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. “I'm sorry. If you were here, you’d understand that no one could answer you because we were trying to hide from everyone shooting at us!”

“I'm sorry,” the voice replied, more sincerely this time.

“Fine. At least you made a good decision. Just don’t let it happen again,” Lloyd growled.

“Now send an aircraft to pick us up,” he ordered.

“It’s already on the way,” the voice replied.

“Good,” Lloyd muttered before turning off his ear comm. He sighed heavily, feeling more exhausted from the conversation than the fight.

Compared to Lloyd’s precarious situation, the person on the other end was in a much safer location.

“He’s a little bit angry, but at least we avoided any casualties,” one of the IT team members said, glancing up from their console.

“That’s what I aim for. Less paperwork too,” you replied, a hint of satisfaction in your voice.

You took off your ear comm and set it down on the table. “And we can get more bonuses.”

“Yes,” everyone nodded in agreement. Working at Hansen Security was stressful and dangerous, but the high salary made it worthwhile, especially with you.

Since you became the damage control advisor, the job has become less stressful because the team could depend on you to handle Lloyd’s wrath. Your nickname, "Raven," truly lived up to its reputation.

You used to work in the CIA, but even the corrupt officers there found you too irritating. So, they sent you to the most annoying person they could think of—Lloyd Hansen.

Even Lloyd couldn't stand you. Since you arrived, he found himself unable to do whatever he wanted. He used to revel in his freedom, operating without constraints. Now, there were rules and regulations, and you enforced them rigorously.

Lloyd frowned as he recalled the changes you'd implemented: no more casualties, no more shooting innocent civilians, no more reckless actions. He scoffed, shaking his head. He used to thrive in chaos, but you had stopped that.

Since you came on board, Lloyd has noticed that the calls from Carmichael or Susan have stopped. He used to hear, “Lloyd, keep it down,” or “Lloyd, what are you doing?” almost daily. Now, there was silence on that front.

He grimaced, remembering how he'd been forced to adjust his tactics. He clenched his fists, feeling the constraints you'd placed on him. He couldn't stand the way you had imposed order on his operations.

You, meanwhile, were fully aware of Lloyd’s resentment. As you leaned back in your chair, you glanced at the team, seeing the relief in their eyes. They appreciated the structure and safety you brought, even if Lloyd didn’t.

💉💉💉💉

Lloyd arrived back at the mansion, dragging his feet because of the wound. “Shit. I need a medic,” he groaned.

“They’re taking care of the others who really need it,” you replied, your tone matter-of-fact.

Lloyd fell silent, realizing that it was only you to help. You were already standing there, holding a medic kit. “Don’t scare me like that,” Lloyd holding his chest.

“You? Impossible,” you scoffed as you cut his pants with scissors to address his wound.

“Geez, you reject going on a date with me but are eager to rip my pants,” Lloyd quipped, wincing as you applied antiseptic.

“Well, if we can’t be lovers, at least we’re good partners in crime,” you shot back.

Lloyd smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “How do I look? Do I look handsome?” he asked, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

You raised your eyebrows, used to his random questions. “You have a muscular body and a good-looking face. You’re good in every outfit.”

Lloyd fell silent for a moment, then leaned closer to you, his expression serious. “Don’t say those kinds of words to anyone else—man, woman, I don’t care. Just me. Alright?”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, whatever you say, Lloyd.”

Despite the banter, there was a palpable tension between you two. It was clear you both hated and cared for each other at the same time.

As you finished bandaging his wound, Lloyd watched you with a mix of irritation and appreciation. “You’re good at this,” he muttered.

“Better than bleeding out,” you replied, standing up and packing the kit.

The others nearby were already used to your dynamic. They exchanged knowing glances but didn’t interfere. This was just another day at Hansen Security—filled with banter and tension, but always under control.

“Try not to get shot next time,” you said, turning to leave.

“Try not to worry about me so much,” Lloyd said, smirking.

🍸🍸🍸🍸

After an exhausting day, you always head to the bar to ease your stress. Swirling the ice cubes in your whiskey, you find a small semblance of relaxation in the motion.

Working in damage control with Hansen Security is stressful and demanding, and you often wonder what would have happened if you had never accepted the job.

“Are you really that stressed?”

You’re startled by the familiar voice and look up to see Susan standing beside you.

“Today I just stopped an unnecessary war. If you think that's not stressful, sure,” you reply, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you take a sip of your drink.

Susan makes an ‘ooh’ sound, clearly impressed with your ability to tame Lloyd. She pulls up a stool and sits next to you, her eyes studying your face.

“Perhaps I can help ease your burden,” she says, her voice softening.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Hmm?”

“Our boss wants to hire you to work at headquarters. He likes the way you limit the damage Lloyd makes,” Susan explains, her eyes shining with excitement.

“Really?!” you exclaim, a wave of relief washing over you. “When can I go there?”

“Anytime you want,” Susan replies with a smile.

Without hesitation, you down the rest of your whiskey and stand up, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. You grab your jacket, a newfound energy propelling you forward.

💥💥💥💥💥

Lloyd had just come back, and the atmosphere inside the mansion felt different. Had someone been here? He was sure of it. “Susan, what the heck are you doing here?” he demanded, storming into the room.

“I’m the new damage control advisor,” Susan replied calmly, standing her ground.

“Oh, hell no. Where is she?” Lloyd’s voice was sharp, almost frantic.

Susan’s expression remained neutral. “She’s working with the boss now.”

“Without my permission?!” Lloyd’s voice rose, his anger palpable.

Susan was taken aback. She hadn’t expected him to be this furious. She shrugged her shoulders, trying to stay composed. “Don’t blame me. It was the higher-ups who wanted her.”

“She also gave her resignation letter,” she informed him.

Lloyd stood there, stunned. You had just left without saying anything? He couldn’t believe it.

That night, Lloyd couldn't sleep. He never thought he would feel so blue after you left. When you first started working with him, you were a nuisance, always blocking every plan he made. He hated you for it.

But as time went by, your presence became indispensable for both the job and him. He liked to tease and flirt with you, even though it was futile since you never broke your cold demeanor.

Now, with Susan replacing you, he knew she was waiting for him to fail. She didn’t care if he made mistakes. She wanted him to be ruined. She didn’t care if the mission succeeded or failed.

Unlike you, who were strict but cared for him, watching out for his safety and the success of the mission.

Lloyd sat on the edge of his bed, staring into the darkness. He realized just how much he had relied on you, not just for your skills but for your unwavering dedication. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration and sadness mixing within him. He missed your stern yet caring presence, and it gnawed at him that he hadn’t appreciated you more when you were there.

Susan might be in your position now, but she could never replace what you brought to the team or him.

🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢

Lloyd stormed through the office, pushing away the secretary and security guards who tried to stop him from entering Monsieur Francis' office room.

“Mr. Hansen. What do I owe the pleasure of this abrupt visit?” Monsieur Francis, the French millionaire and main sponsor of Hansen Security, looked up calmly.

“I want her back,” Lloyd stated firmly.

Monsieur Francis leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. He had always needed Hansen Security to clear his path but despised the chaos and repair bills Lloyd often caused.

“But she likes it here. It's less stressful,” Monsieur Francis replied diplomatically.

Lloyd slammed his fist on the glass table, causing it to crack. “No one can replace her.”

Monsieur Francis raised an eyebrow, maintaining his composure. “There’s nothing I can do. She came here of her own accord, and we welcomed a talented person like her with open arms.”

Lloyd's voice hardened. “Let her go, or I will expose all your misdeeds to the world. Everyone will be shocked to learn that the philanthropist has blood on his hands.”

Monsieur Francis clenched his fist, his knuckles turning white. “Leave. Before I change my mind. This is the last time you disrespect me.”

Gritting his teeth, Lloyd turned and stormed out of the office, leaving Monsieur Francis behind.

Lloyd leaned against the wall in the hallway, his chest heaving with frustration and anger. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling defeated. He knew threatening Monsieur Francis was risky, but he was desperate to bring you back.

🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁

Clueless about what was happening on the top floor, you were in the midst of a meeting with your new team. It felt surprisingly relaxing compared to your time at Hansen Security. The atmosphere was blissful, and you were starting to feel a sense of ease in your new role.

Suddenly, the door burst open, startling everyone in the room. All eyes turned as Lloyd stormed in, his expression furious. You stood up in shock as he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the building, leaving the room in stunned silence.

“Lloyd, let go,” you demanded, trying to free your hand from his grip.

“If you don’t want me to make a scene here, just be quiet,” he hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes darting around at the onlookers.

“I don’t want to work with you,” you asserted firmly, your voice tinged with frustration.

“Now, I’m gonna stop you right there, cupcake,” Lloyd retorted, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

“Stop calling me that,” you snapped, remembering the time he had discovered your pajamas with cupcake patterns and found it amusing.

“You don’t belong here. Like it or not, you’re going to stay close to me. Didn’t you say we’re perfect partners in crime?” Lloyd’s voice was insistent, almost pleading.

Damn, this man, you thought, feeling both frustrated and reluctantly intrigued. You couldn't seem to escape him.

Lloyd's jaw was clenched, his eyes searching yours with a mix of determination and vulnerability. He took a step closer, closing the physical gap between you, his presence commanding attention.

“Lloyd, this isn’t—” you started, but he cut you off with a shake of his head.

“Just... stay close,” he implored softly, his voice rough with emotion.

You hesitated, feeling the weight of his words and the intensity of his gaze. Despite your better judgment, there was an undeniable pull towards him—a magnetic force that defied logic and reason.

“I...” you began, uncertain how to respond, your own emotions in turmoil.

Lloyd reached out tentatively, his fingers brushing against yours. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a spark of something unspoken between you.

As you stood there, caught in the charged atmosphere, you realized that resisting Lloyd was futile. Whatever lay ahead, this moment marked a turning point—a shift towards a future where boundaries blurred, and the lines between duty and desire became increasingly intertwined.

Taglist: @thezombieprostitute

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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~

Tag List: @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @mercurial-chuckles @caplanbuckybarnes @autumnrose40

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No Promises (2)

Lloyd Hansen x rival assassin!Reader

Don't Be Blue, Bunny Boy (see previous or LH Masterlist)

Summary: Lloyd underestimates how dangerous you are when he finds you wrapped like a gift in his hotel room.

Warnings for smut, but it's Lloyd so there's a knife, a gun, name-calling, cursing, drugging, dubcon due to somno, two a**holes in competition, unprotected sex (honestly, just never do anything Lloyd would do, okay? great. excellent. good chat), and possibly the best banter I've ever written gdi. Darkfic...but, like, funny??? For the love of everything, MINORS DNI. I have plenty else for you on my Light Masterlist, but this is not for you! WC 2k 🫣

*This CT 2024 Challenge work can be read completely out-of-context from the rest of the mini-series (which isn't even written yet anyway, lalalahhhh).

It’s bad enough you took the keycard off that fat fuck of a target first, but failing to follow you smacks Lloyd’s ego in just the wrong way. By the time he gets back to his luxurious hotel room, he’s fuming and itching to shoot something. You don’t need to be a mind-reader to know this; the man is still a man, after all, no matter how trained and controlled he thinks he is.

That’s why you’re here, trussed up in a sapphire blue bodysuit, smirking at the irritation radiating off of your rival as his eyes rake the length of your mostly-bare figure.

“Darling,” you burst, posing like a ‘50s housewife by the armchair, playful and sickeningly sweet. “You’re home! I was so worried.”

Anger quivers his lip coat till he vaguely resembles a pouting porcupine. God, you hate mustaches. You’re willing to bet—if you really put your back into it—you could hump his face with such friction, it’d rub him smooth. There are less-worthwhile endeavors that you’ve completely only today. Why not experiment?

“You have some fucking nerve, bitch.”

Lloyd keeps his steps forward into the room slow and casual, though his ire is obvious. He stops halfway across the carpet, unzips his leather jacket, and tosses it onto the foot of the bed.

He seems surprised when you strut over without hesitation; he hasn’t handed over any weapons, but you haven’t asked for a reason. Lloyd’s reputation is cocky, commanding, and curious—in that order—so he won’t start speculating till it’s too late.

Indeed, what possible harm could you inflict wearing this lil’ ol’ thing, huh?

As you get closer, his hand reaches out instinctually.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you tsk in warning. “If you rip my lace, I will gut you like a fish. Understood?”

“Can’t make any promises, but…”

Lloyd, undeterred, clamps his hand between your legs and runs a finger through your folds, proving the crotchless lingerie isn’t in danger of typical snags.

The pad of his digit is rough and teasing.

“I think we can work with that,” he growls.

Oh yes, he’s definitely, perfectly, and predictably cocky. What fun you’ll have.

You make a show of gasping when he starts dipping two fingers into your heat, rolling your head as if truly undone by the minimal effort, and wait for him to watch his own ministrations, distracted.

Then you strike.

You grab his wrist, twisting harshly, yanking the arm behind him, straddling his shoulders so your legs pinch over his neck, and he turns slightly to nip at your thigh. You’re not surprised he still thinks he’ll win.

His steely eye winks as he looks up.

“Bet I can make you cum first.”

A dramatic sigh escapes you. You release his arm to sensually smooth your palm down his body, bending to whisper, “that implies I give a shit if you come at all.”

You fling yourself backwards, using the momentum to catapult him over you and into the side of the bed.

The mustache emphasizes his sneer when Lloyd pushes up on an elbow.

“I, too, like using a firm hand when breaking bitches’ spirits,” he mutters, reaching for his switchblade which you present instead, wiggling it in your hand with a grin.

“Oh, bunny boy, were you too firm to notice my gentle caress?” You deftly unlatch and expose the knife’s edge. “Now, strip.”

You tick the blade quickly for effect.

“Show me some skin so I can mark my two points so far. I know how you love to keep score.”

Lloyd rights himself, peeling his black turtleneck over his head and smoothing his hair into place calmly. “I can kill you just as easily naked as I can clothed.”

“Of course, cutie pie, and I’m counting on many little deaths.” You look at the knife in your hand, concerned. “Please tell me this isn’t the biggest weapon you're packing, or I’ll be so disappointed.”

He’s smug while unbuckling his belt and shucking off his pants. Lloyd Hansen now proudly stands stark nude.

You let your eyes go comically wide, but then your brow furrows and you shrug.

“You’re welcome to keep talking while I sit on your face, but otherwise… I’m unimpressed.”

Lloyd huffs with indignation.

“Fuck you.”

Like the footballer he used to be, he rushes you.

“Promise?” you coo, dodging him and landing a sharp smack to his butt cheek. It’s spectacularly sculpted, plump, and rock hard all at once.

“Oh my! Darling, you did not lead with your best asset…” You notice the faint scar on his pale skin and giggle. “Little prick got pricked, I see.”

Your amusement gives him a split second to grab you, and Lloyd uses the opportunity to shove you back into the window so violently the thick glass rattles its frame.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” he spits viciously, not so cocky as before.

“Isn’t that what I’ve been begging you to do for me, sweetheart?”

Mouth hanging open in a taunt, one hand strokes him, the other warns. The tip of the knife you still wield barely grazes the notch between ribs where you could swiftly puncture his lung. Lloyd watches, fuming and mesmerized, until you transfer the pooling saliva to your palm and resume jerking his cock.

“A firm hand really does make you harder, doesn’t it?”

That snaps him out of it.

He scrambles to bend you over that same armchair you started at, and Lloyd’s version of prep is a single, perfunctory dig of two fingers into your cunt.

To his credit, you are dripping wet for him, so, though his need to check before chaffing himself wasn’t necessary, he rewards you with a beautifully debauched moan as he sinks to the hilt with one thrust.

Lloyd’s got something to prove.

Good.

He’s so focused on groping around to your breasts beneath the stretchy lace that you stick the switchblade deep into the chair’s cushion and hold on; whatever else you’re doing is irrelevant to him. There is only fucking. There is only feeling as if he owns you in this moment.

You let out a high whine and goad him. “Love it when you’re gentle with me, sweetie.”

That earns you an unhinged snarl and the pummeling slap of his hips against your thighs.

He’s so easy to motivate, a majestic maniac on a mission to turn you stupid, if only until the stench of sex dissipates. If the idiot would just reach down to your clit, you’d spare him, but Lloyd is a man.

A selfish, egotistical princeling who’s a good marksman and a shit human. Good, for the business you two are in. But not as good as you.

You sigh like you’re bored, sinking your chin to rest on your outstretched arms.

He stops moving, grunting as he pulls out of you and snapping one of your shoulder straps.

“Fine. You wanna put in the work, sunshine? You go for it.” Lloyd flops onto the bed, face up, his arms spread wide and high.

Of course, he’s going for the gun under the pillow. You know it, you’ve anticipated it, and you decided it would be a nice safety blanket to leave him, to keep him feeling comfortable.

So you crawl on top of him anyway, rocking yourself against his cock for a few seconds before shifting higher. You giggle for emphasis.

You’re just here to fuck him. You’re just here to fuck with him. That’s the truth, and he knows it. Lloyd simply doesn’t know the conditions of both your releases…yet.

“Such a desperate slut,” he rumbles as you settle above his face.

Before you cover your view of him, you pinch at his jaw and smirk.

“Only munches wear a fucking mustache.”

His cheek gets a condescending pat when he smiles back.

He’s cute when he’s having fun, apparently.

Lloyd licks his lips and slowly lifts his head to swipe at your entrance. “You owe me that fucking keycard.” He delicately kisses your folds before his tongue darts out to circle your clit. “And I’ll get it from you one way or another.”

You can hear the rustle of his hand over the sheet. Not even a solid suck on your cunt, and he’s already going for the gun…

“Oh, come on,” you plead, ignoring his threat. “Finish your meal, champ. I know you can do it.”

His eyes narrow, peeking past your mound as he growls, gripping your thighs hard enough for you to collapse forward.

Sloppy. The best word to describe Lloyd eating pussy is sloppy. He contributes as much as you do to the glide of his whole face over every intimate inch of skin. Because you’re sitting with weight mostly on him—some of it still rests on your knees—each movement pushes his nose, lips, tongue, and stache around with enough fervor to polish your raw nerves.

Honestly, it’s a shame he ruins the moment by slipping his hand under the pillow and pressing the silencer's muzzle to your side.

Petulance dialed to maximum, you whimper, “you said I could come first!”

Your hand falls below your navel, clutching the lace like he’s already wounded you, and Lloyd proceeds to laugh right into your cunt.

He doesn’t have time to form a comeback once you peel the sheer, protective layer away from the patch of fabric a mere inch above the opening of the bodysuit. If he’d have paid any proper attention to you, he’d’ve found it, but he didn’t.

The fumes of chloroform-drenched cobalt engulf Lloyd in the suffocating proximity of the bed and your body. He has nowhere to go but under.

The gun falls away once his limbs go lax.

You sit directly on his chest for the few seconds it takes to realign the inner and outer barriers of your dainty, chemical warfare, then you shimmy off of him.

He actually looks quite peaceful this way.

His features are carefree, his broad, smooth chest rises and falls steadily, and his…

Well.

Lloyd’s dick lays erect and proud on his stomach, unfazed by unconsciousness. It’d be an even greater shame to waste that.

“It’s ok, peanut,” you whisper out of habit now, forced to imagine the twitch of his lip, the pop of the vein in his neck. “This is your chance to make it up to me.”

It’s not difficult to take him into your still-sopping core, and once you angle yourself to grind on the cut of his abs, all Lloyd’s previous buildup rushes back. His ass may be the star of the show, but his dick is no fluffer act. He’s packing enough to nudge at that perfect spot relentlessly as you ride him, and you openly mewl as you approach the height of your orgasm.

You imagine he’d say you sound so pretty and pathetic.

He’d probably ask if this is the best you can do, but that makes you fuck him harder until you crash into a wall of pleasure, sweaty, exhausted, resting against that broad chest.

You catch your breath after a short while, skin humming with excitement. Absently, your hands paw at his sides for a tiny bit of comfort.

That thought gets buried in a tense heartbeat, and you climb off the bed, pleased to notice the sheer amount of cum and his softening dick means he finished, too.

You’ll leave that as a souvenir.

The plan was to carve a little message on him—nothing that would permanently scar—but you can’t bring yourself to mar such a glorious ass. That would be akin to treason. Seriously, if he had simply walked around you in a bathing suit with that thing, you would have slipped the keycard into his waistband and thanked him for his service to your wet dreams.

A bit of dried cum smeared all over his pelvis and dripping down his balls, his useless pistol still in-hand, will do fine as a statement.

You clean yourself up, snatching your real clothes from the closet where you hung them tidily beside his own, and give a gentle grip to his immobile knee where it hangs off the bed.

“Sweet dreams, bunny boy. Maybe I'll let you win next time.”

[Next Part: I Left You Something On The Body]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

This work was written for the amazing and inspirational Cum Together Extravaganza hosted by @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420, but a special thanks to @buckymorelikefuckme for the earworm that would not quit. Poppy, you dark enabler you... I fucking love you!

Prompts: "Bet I can make you cum first." || Somnophilia || enemies-to-lovers || Characters A + B cum together at the same time

dividers by @/saradika-graphics (blue art deco) and @/cafekitsune

[ellethespaceunicorn]

I hope you are having a woooooonderful Friday!! 🥰

I was the anon requesting the Lloyd fic with him accidentally discovering that his assistant is hot lol and I LOVED IT. I can see she won't make it easy for him!

I wanted to know what you would think of Lloyd running into one of those toxic red pill/alpha male types after they corner his girl (or who he claims as his girl 😏 that's up to you) being gross to her.

Those types just make me so mad, I think Lloyd would teach them a good lesson and put them in their place 😈

TYSM for your time and the lovely words you give us! 💜

OMG my sweet Lloyd nonnie, this took me two months to post but literally only like three days to write. I'm a whole mess, but I really like this story and I hope you do too!!!!

Title: A Duke and His Duchess

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Soft!Dark!Lloyd Hansen x Chubby!Black!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2K

Summary: The night takes a dark turn when you are harassed at the club, but Lloyd comes to your rescue.

Warnings: Lloyd is a warning all on his own: possessive!Lloyd, soft!dark!Lloyd, lovey-dovey!Lloyd. Toxic “alpha male” behavior, Lloyd’s butterfly knife making an appearance, physical violence (some involving Reader), vaginal fingering, unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids.

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

The look that crosses his face says everything before his mouth can do so. He groans in the back of his throat, walking over to where you stand in front of the mirror, scrutinizing your outfit. He winks at you in the reflection and kisses where your neck meets your shoulder. His hands slide over your ample hips and grab a handful of your plump rump.

“Don’t you get started. You promised me that we were going out tonight,” you say, turning around and putting your manicured hands on his pecs.

“That’s not fair, Duchess. You put on this outfit, and my blood flow goes straight to my cock,” he sighs, pulling you closer so you can feel his heavy erection pressing against your mound.

Sliding your hands down his chest, you palm his length, and he hisses in response. “Is this all for me, Duke?” You squeeze him, and he closes his eyes, leaning his head back.

“Who the fuck else would it be for? I mean, look at you,” he implores, letting his eyes wander over your clothing. 

He was always a fan of this outfit because it hugs all your curves. The halter top accents your full breasts with a healthy amount of cleavage. The high-waisted fitted skirt shows off your wide hips and thick thighs and stops under your knee. A pair of stilettos with a little buckle that Lloyd bends down to secure completes the ensemble.

You feel the heat rise to your cheeks and praise the melanin gods that blessed you with the ability to hide your blushing. Lloyd finishes buckling your heel, then rises to his full height. Holding your chin with his thumb and forefinger, he lays a sweet kiss upon your lips before nuzzling his nose with yours. 

“After you, Duchess,” he croons, stepping out of the way and letting you walk ahead of him. You already know that he just wants to watch your hips sway while you walk in front of him, but damn if you don’t love how much he covets your body. And if you put a little extra oomph in your step, he wasn’t mad about it.

Lloyd stops the car at the curb and exits the car, tossing the keys to the valet. Walking around to the passenger side, he shoos away the other attendant trying to assist you in exiting the vehicle. 

Nobody touches you when Lloyd is around.

He takes your hand, and you step onto the sidewalk, taking in the view of the line to get into the club. Lloyd pulls you along with him as he bypasses the line and walks up to the bouncer. They exchange a few words, and the very large, and probably armed, man at the door unlatches the velvet rope and ushers you in.

The lights in the place are spinning in dizzying patterns with blues, purples, and pinks. The music is both heard and felt as it thumpingly exits the speakers. Lloyd waves down a girl and she comes running. You’re a bit confused as he whispers something in her ear. Before you can ask him about it, you’re pulled in the direction of one of the tables on the upper level that overlooks the dancefloor.

In true Lloyd fashion, he gets the best table, and there is already champagne on ice waiting for you when you sit down. He pops the bottle and pours you both a healthy amount of the bubbly golden liquid. He toasts to you, as always. You clink your glasses and empty your drink in one go. Lloyd is there to refill your glass, watching and smiling as you dance a little in your seat as the DJ rolls from one song to the next. 

The opening notes of Cobra hit your ears, and you can’t stop yourself from singing along with Megan Thee Stallion.

🎶

Long as everybody gettin' paid, right?

Everything'll be okay, right?

I'm winnin', so nobody trippin'

Bet if I ever fall off, everybody go missin'

🎶

You don’t remember closing your eyes in the middle of singing and enjoying the song. When you open them, Lloyd is sitting next to you, and he has that look on his face. The look that expressly means that he wants to watch you dance, and more specifically, he wants to watch you shake that thang. 

You don’t keep him waiting for long. Standing up, you set your glass down on the table in front of you. Moving over to stand in front of Lloyd, you let the music move through your body as you start to give him a little show.

You sway your hips, bending forward to lean on the table. With your ass in the air, you twerk for your man, and he is in heaven. When you make it clap, you feel his hands on your ass. 

He doesn’t want to stop you; he just wants to feel ‘the motion of the ocean’ as you dance just for him. You look over your shoulder at him, and he is definitely in his happy place. His tongue snakes out to wet his lips, his eyes laser-focused on your derriere until you giggle. Blue eyes meet yours, and his mouth upturns; that devilish little smirk silently tells you he’s pleased.

He moves his hands to your hips and pulls you back to sit in his lap. Between your gyrations, you can feel how pleased he truly is. That is if the hardness in his pants is anything to go by. 

Song after song, you tease him with a lap dance. Making sure to grind into him this way and that, allowing him the opportunity for his hands to wander. As the music changes to something a little different, you notice that you and Lloyd have emptied the champagne. He offers to have another bottle brought over, but you wouldn’t mind walking up to the bar yourself.

He begrudgingly lets you raise from his lap. You saunter away, heading to the bar on the lower level. Ordering a margarita, you wait while the bartender makes a few drinks at the same time. 

You feel eyes on you and turn to see a man watching you from a distance. His hazel eyes catch yours, and you smile politely, then turn away. The bartender hands you the strawberry-flavored drink, and before you can pay him, a hand reaches over yours and beats you to it. 

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing paying for her drinks?” A deep baritone escapes his boringly pretty face, and you instantly feel something off about him.

“Can’t a woman just buy a drink without the third degree?” You pick up your drink and sip while looking him up and down.

“Please don’t act like you’re not impressed. Just calm down, baby,” he says.

“Don’t call me baby, first of all. Secondly, what do I have to be impressed about? The fact you can pay for a $12 drink? Good job. Not interested,” you lament, turning to walk away. A hand gripping your arm stops you.

“Look, we got off on the wrong foot. How about you recognize when a man is being nice to you? You must not be used to getting attention. Let me break it down for you: I buy you a drink; we enjoy a little time together. And if you’re lucky, I might even fuck you,” he negs, standing up straight so he towers over you.

“Let my arm go, creep!” You shout, failing to tug your arm out of his grasp.

The grip on your arm gets impossibly tighter as he leans in to speak, “Listen here, you fat bitch. Ain’t nobody here looking out for you. So, it would be best if you do as you’re told and be a good little slut.”

Your eyes shut tight out of fear, and suddenly the clench on your arm is gone. You open your eyes, and the man is still in front of you; his eyes are wide as a butterfly knife is held under his throat.

“Alright, man! Be cool! I wasn’t-”

“Oh, what? You weren’t doing anything? You weren’t treating my woman like some piece of meat, like what? Fucking toxic, red pill, alpha male wannabe. No, I bet you weren’t doing anything,” Lloyd seethes, pressing the knife a bit further into the man’s skin. “I think you owe her an apology before I cut your fucking head off, sweet pea.”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I swear,” he cries, a tear escaping one eye and wetting his silk shirt.

Lloyd turns to you and sees you cradling your arm. His anger reaches a boiling point, and he moves the knife to his left hand before punching the man in the jaw and knocking him out. “Apology accepted, asshole,” he spits, stepping over him to get to you.

He carefully examines your arm while the other clubgoers start to gather. He turns back to the asshole, and you watch as his jaw clenches. You know he wants to cut this man up and feed him to the dogs, but you bring his attention back to you. 

“Duke!” You shout, and when his eyes meet yours, you pull him behind you to the exit. Once the valet brings the car around, Lloyd opens your door and closes it behind you softly. Walking around the front of the car, he runs a finger through his hair before entering the car and slamming the door shut.

He pulls away from the curb and starts down the busy street, mumbling to himself about how he wanted to kill that shithead for laying even a finger on you. At a red light, you notice his grip on the steering wheel is leaving his knuckles white. You reach a hand over to lay atop his, and he starts to calm down finally.

Then you get an idea.

You loosen his hand from the steering wheel and place it under your skirt between your thighs. Once his fingers meet your saturated folds, his shoulders relax. 

“You defended my honor tonight and slayed a beast for me. Now, either get us home fast or pull this car over so I can thank you properly,” you beg, already clenching around his digits.

You’ve never seen Lloyd drive faster than that night. You only make it to the driveway of your place before he adjusts his seat and pulls you over to sit in his lap with your skirt pulled up around your waist.

As soon as he is inside you, you get to riding, and you don’t let up until you’ve got him whimpering underneath you. You beg him to fill you, and he barely makes it through your plea before he’s emptying his balls inside your welcoming heat.

You lay kisses all over his face as he comes down from his high. As his softening length slips from you, you open the driver’s side door and exit as his spunk leaks out of you. You adjust your skirt and thank the heavens that the carport hides you for the most part. Lloyd stuffs himself back in his pants and follows after you. Locking the car with the fob, he steps ahead of you to unlock the front door.

“Well, I’d say our night out was eventful,” he jokes, and you are happy to hear that he’s not as upset as earlier.

“That’s one way to put it,” you laugh, kicking off your shoes and walking toward the bedroom. “Now, why don’t you come put me to bed properly, Duke?”

“Don’t have to ask me twice, Duchess,” he purrs, catching up to you in three long strides. He leans in to kiss your lips, reaching down to hold you close before turning you around to nibble at your neck.

You love this man with all of your heart. For all of his flaws, he always gets this part right. He treats you like royalty. But what else would you expect? He works hard, and he loves hard. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/N: I would love to know what you think!!! Feedback is appreciated!

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[thegirlnextdoorssister]

You can run but you can’t hide: Chapter 1: Soulmate

(Soft!Dark! Soulmate AU)

Summary: Lloyd Hansen had been told from a young age that he’ll one day find his other half. What they didn’t tell him was that not everyone was as excited as him to find their other half.

Soft!Dark!Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Warnings for the series: noncon/dubcon, rape? just to make sure, age gap, manipulation, sex used as punishment? edging? soft!dark! gonna give you whiplash, forced breeding, breeding kink, language, violence, blood, past abusive/toxic relationship

Warnings for this chapter: language, allusion to past toxic/abusive relationship

A/N: Buckle up, that’s all I have to say. This chapter is a short one.

As always MINORS DNI

Divider by @maysdigitalarts

18+ only and consent banners by @maysdigitalarts

Chapter 1: Soulmate

Soulmate.

What’s a soulmate?

Someone who you’re destined to be with. Someone who completes you. Bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit. I don’t need a soulmate to complete me or for them to control me. My mother was better off without one. 

My mother’s soulmate, my father, they were in love-wait no, my mom was in love. She would have done anything for him and she did, she still wasn’t enough in his eyes. 

Yeah, I wish never to meet my soulmate. I’ve seen firsthand what a soulmate can do to you, the person who’s supposed to “love and protect you”. What my parents had would never be love. 

That’s why when I had the chance I fled and never looked back, now 5 years later, I’m happy as can be. I’m alone and happy.

I just have to move to a new town since I've been here for 7 months already. That's not what I normally do, usually, I stay for about 5 months and then on to the next town since it’s unlikely to meet your soulmate or anyone when you just go to 3 places-hotel, a job, a store. It’s been the perfect set-up for the past 5 years. 

I don’t have much stuff, so that makes it easier to move from place to place. I’m still packing everything inside my car. 

“Just you, me, and the open road”, I tapped the roof of my car after putting the last of my things inside. I never felt anything during any moves before but this time I felt my heart beating abnormally fast, fear maybe? but of what I don’t know.    

Getting inside the car, I take a deep breath before starting the engine. What type of job would I find this time? bartender? waitress? A dog sitter?  Hopefully my boss this time isn’t a perverted asshole, god just thinking about my time working at the retail store makes my skin crawl. I need to listen to some music.

The sound of Love Her Madly by The Doors playing filled the air in the car.

Don’t you love her madly?

Wanna be her daddy?

Don’t you love her face?

Don’t you love her as she walkin' out the door? 

Like she did one thousand times before

I hope she got out of there alive, that is if his love hadn’t killed her already. He was the reason I left not her but that was the price to pay, either I stayed and get punished or run away and survive. I felt the cool air cares my skin as I rolled down my window. The smell of fresh air, sweet sweet freedom.

«5 hours later»

Welcome to Âme soeur

French, huh? That's weird, I had no idea that there were little French towns. I should look up the meaning of it. I should make a rest stop, I've been driving for hours and I feel like sleeping. So I guess Âme soeur it is. Now time to find a motel but it doesn’t look like there are any buildings close by. It looks completely abandoned. Ghostown. Spooky. 

Ahh…finally a motel. Not the best looking but it's a motel what do you expect? Getting out of the car, the air felt different, heavy. After locking the car, I made my way to the front desk. A girl wearing the motel uniform sat at the front desk. She had charcoal-colored hair and the dullest blue I'd ever seen. A wall of room keys was behind her.

“Hello, do you have a room available?”, I asked. She just stared at me, like she was trying to figure me out. 

“We just have one available”, she plainly said typing away on the computer. She truly looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. “Ok, I’ll take it”, I smiled. She turned to get my room key, and that's when I saw it, for a split sec, a mark on the back of her neck but she turned back just as quickly. Weird. She handed me the room key. As took the room key, she stayed silent. I left with a quick “bye”, I got to my car and opened the trunk to get my things out. I felt goosebumps on the back of my neck, and my bag fell from my hand as I touched the back of my neck. I looked around but shook it off and picked up my bag and the air felt somehow heavier than before. I looked for my room key to see the room number. My heart stopped. 

Room 222.

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[abbatoirablaze]

Big Bad Wolf, Chapter 9

Word Count:  1.8k

Warnings:  smut, protected sex, oral (f receiving), slight dacryphilia, slight somnophilia, cheating, taboo relationship, age gap

“God, you look so pretty crying for me,” Lloyd growled as his cock nudged against your cervix yet again.  Your nails dug into his back, tears flowing freely down your cheeks as your core was stretched to the max around his girthy length.  He leaned down, and his thick tongue pressing against your cheek and sliding up it to collect the saline.  He growled, his hips bucking even deeper into you as his eyes nearly rolled back into his head, “oh fuck.  That tastes so fucking good, princess.”

“Llo-Lloyd…” you whimpered, trying not to move too much as you felt him twitching inside of you.  Your nails dragged down his back, leaving angry red marks as he came with a loud groan.

“Fuck…oh, princess…don’t you worry,” he moaned, his head being thrown back in ecstasy.  His jaw fell open and his eyes closed while his hips stuttered.  You whimpered as his hips pushed yours even further apart while he pressed impossibly deep inside of you.  For a second the only noise in the room was his high being fulfilled, the small squeaks of his bed coming to a halt as he stilled inside of you.  And then his head dropped forward, coming to a rest against yours when your foreheads touched.  His hands, gently stroking your cheeks, wiping away his own saliva and the remainder of your tears as he pressed a series of small, gentler kisses to your lips and cheeks, “I’m gonna get up and grab a towel…and take off my condom baby. But then I’m going to clean you up…and make sure this is just as good for you as it was for me…”

“H-hurts…Lloyd, I-“ you hiccupped. 

“Don’t worry princess,” he muttered gently, his nose brushing against yours, “I stretched you with my cock long enough for today…I’m going to make love to you with my mouth…have you cumming all over these new sheets…I’m gonna have you ride my face and cum all over it…”

You whimpered; the thought of your core being touched anymore for the night was making you nervous.  And it was like he could sense it as he rolled the two of you until you were on top of him, resting against his chest.  

He was so delicate with you.  So gentle.  It had you reconsidering your words, “Lloyd…”

“It’s okay baby…we don’t have to if you don’t want to…I just…I want you to feel as good as you made me feel.  Do you trust me?”

You bit your lip, nodding as he caressed your face, “yes…I-I trust you…. I’m just-I’m scared, Lloyd.”

“Let me take care of you princess!”

Lloyd watched you as you slept soundly in his bed. He felt like he was floating on cloud nine as you softly snored to yourself.  Not more than ten minutes ago he’d woken up when you rolled off of him, and slept on your back, and a wicked thought had popped into his head.  

But he hadn’t acted on it, just yet.  

No.  

He wanted to watch you in all of your innocence. Last night, he’d won a battle against that stupid kid who lived next door; the boy that was supposedly your boyfriend.  He’d claimed something that you’d withheld from him; your virginity.  

And while there was a small part of him that felt guilty for coercing you into it, he knew that you were his endgame.  He knew that you were going to be the woman that he married, the woman that gave him children.  The only thing he was truly at odds with himself was the fact that he’d been responsible enough to wear a condom.  

While he knew that you were his and only his, he wanted to give you the illusion that you were safe with him in a way that you would never be with Jacob Barber.  But he knew that you belonged to him, wholly and entirely.  There would be a time he wouldn’t wear a condom with you, but your first time wasn’t it.  And he knew it.

You whimpered in your sleep as his hand toyed with your hip, before slowly slipping between your thighs.  

He held back a groan, feeling how undeniably wet you were.  

Even after an evening of him eating you out, and having spent the earlier hours being impaled on his cock, it was like you re-lived it in your sleep, and you were ripe for the taking all over again.  His mouth watered at the thought.  You were so ready for him; prepped like a good little princess.  His good little princess.

And he wanted to taste you again.  

“Pumpkin.”

You only moaned in response, your lips parting when his fingers probed at your entrance.  He smiled, slipping a finger inside of your still tender hole.  You gasped, your breath hitching.  His smile only widened as he, himself, dipped below the covers.  

Maneuvering himself until he was between your thighs, he made sure to stroke your inner walls with the finger that was inside of you. He groaned when he saw just how wet you were.  He’d felt it, sure, but to see it was an entirely different situation.  It was like your little petals were glistening from your slick. And it was all for him.  

Only him. 

His mouth watered as he looked up at your body. Your nipples were hardened pebbles and you had goosebumps running across your skin.  And your sensitive little nub was practically swollen from the amount of activity it’d seen last night.  

He couldn’t hold himself back any longer. Instinctively he latched onto it, his mouth swirling around the already pulsating nub as he added a second finger inside of you and began scissoring you open.  You shifted, but with no real intention.  It was easy enough for him to keep your legs spread as he continued his ministrations.  

You moaned yet again, the sleepy haze you were in still evident to him even as he reached up and began to massage one of your breasts.  

“Lloyd,” you whimpered softly, your body rocking to meet the swirling of his tongue around your clit, “fuck…”

He’d continued to work on your delicate bud, tweaking one of your nipples while he added a third finger, stretching your cunt around the probing digits.  

That woke you up.

Your hands reached down.  You gasped, your back arching fully into him as he sucked on your clit, “Lloyd…”

He smiled when you tugged on his hair, and he gently nipped at you.  You moaned, your clit unable to take the activity any longer, and you came hard against his face.  He smiled, lapping up the juices that encased his digits and soiled his mustache.  Your body began to gently thrash against his face the longer he was ‘cleaning you up’ before your hands tugged on his hair again, pulling him away from your core.

The blanket was removed from the bed, and he gave you a guilty look as you stared at him breathlessly.  

“Ll-Ll-Lloyd.”

“Good morning cupcake,” he said huskily.  You watched as he crawled up your body, his fingers removing themselves from your pulsating core, leaving you feel incomplete. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, the musk of your own juices hitting your senses.  You gasped, tasting yourself on his tongue when he slipped it into your mouth.  He pulled away, a frown on his face when you didn’t kiss him back; his expression instantly changing to one of confusion as he let your face go, “is something wrong, sweetheart?”

“Lloyd…we-I…” but you cut yourself off, unable to explain what you were feeling in the moment.  His frown deepened as he felt like he knew what you were going to say.

“Jacob.”

You nodded, “and you-Suzanne…I…oh god…I’m a homewrecker.”

You began to feel tears lining your eyes.  And while he felt himself getting harder while your pretty face filled with tears, he shook his head and rolled to his side, pulling you to his chest, “no baby…you’re not a homewrecker…none of this-it’s not your fault.  I-shit….this is my fault, princess.  I’m so sorry…I-“

“We had sex…”

He bit his lip and threw on his best sad expression while he pulled away from you.  He nodded and looked at the ground, “I-I’m sorry…I just…I thought you wanted it. Fuck.  You were just being nice to me and I-“

“I did want it. “

He stopped speaking and stared at you, feigning surprise, “Wh-what?”

“If I could lose it to anyone, I-I’m glad that it was you, Lloyd…I just-“

“You wanted to be married sweetheart,” he offered, cutting you off as his hand caressed your cheek, “I’m going through a divorce and you’re dating that Barber kid…it-it was wrong…”

You pulled the blankets up over your body, covering yourself from him.  You bit your lip and looked away, not finding yourself able to look him in the face, “it didn’t feel wrong.”

His expression couldn’t have been more shocked if he tried. He hadn’t expected you to react like that in the slightest.  He’d expected you to look at him like some type of villain and call him out for sleeping with you.  And then he would have to fight to have you fawning all over him again.  But you were sweetly looking away from him, like you were embarrassed for having liked the experience.”

“Sweetheart…”

He’d hoped that you would look at him.  But you were still an innocent, sweet little thing. You wouldn’t dare look him in the eyes.

“You should put on some clothes, Lloyd…and-I-I think that I should too….and go home…”

“Wait…” You stopped, the blanket falling away from you as you had started to remove yourself from the bed.  Your eyes looked like they were full of hope as Lloyd considered his options, “I-I don’t want you to leave, sweetheart.”

“I-I’m with Jacob…and you’re married to Suzanne still…”

“We’ll figure it out, pumpkin,” he promised gently, reaching towards you, “Stay…stay here with me?  You don’t have to leave…”

“We-we shouldn’t have done that, Lloyd,” you admitted gently, pulling your hand out of his grasp, “what we did felt amazing…and right on so many levels…but…neither one of us are single…we-we can’t do that to each other.  It wouldn’t be fair.”

“Me and Suzanne are done with…”

“But I-I can’t do that to Jacob,” you explained sadly, “regardless of whether or not he’s been a shitty boyfriend…and he has…he deserves…some kind of explanation.   Face to face.”

And for once, Lloyd didn’t say anything.  He watched as you put on your clothes, and silently left his bedroom.  He laid back on the bed and sighed when he heard the unmistakable click of the front door, signaling that you had left.  

He looked over to the window, the blinds still shut from yesterday, and there was a part of himself that wished he’d left them open. Wished that Jacob had come home and seen you taking his cock, calling out for him.  

He sighed once more to himself and looked at his bedroom door.  

You were his girl.  

And you would be back.

It was only a matter of time.

  Chapter 10

Tag List:  @lohnes16, @tenaciousperfection unknown, @buckysteveloki-me, @eralen, @chemtrails-club, @bean-is-reading

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Heart Still Beating - 2 | Lloyd

Character: Lloyd Hansen x Female!Reader

Summary: After the heart transplant, Lloyd, the heartless killer, started to feel something—something unexpected and powerful that was tied to the fiancé of the heart’s donor.

Words Count : 2916

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , End

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Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Lloyd’s heart suddenly thundered, then clenched painfully. “Urgh!” He pressed a hand to his chest, trying to catch his breath, but as he reached for the wall to steady himself, he slipped. Just before he fell, you caught him, one hand resting firmly against his chest. The pain subsided instantly, like his new heart had quieted under your touch.

He cursed under his breath. Why did the pain vanish when she touched his chest? Was it because of the memories of the heart's previous owner?

It reminded him of a colleague who could only fall asleep after hearing bedtime stories from a woman.

“Damn it,” he muttered, glancing away. “This heart’s making me weak. I can’t even kill anymore.” His voice was bitter, almost disgusted.

This is the first time you hear this kind of problem. Your eyebrows rose, taken aback by his words. "Are you actually saying the heart is stopping you from… killing people?”

Lloyd gave a short, dry laugh, his gaze darkening as he glared at you. “What, you think I asked for this? Your precious fiancé’s heart is in my chest, and it’s ruining me.” He sneered, “Must feel great for you, knowing he’s stuck here, with someone like me.”

Your jaw clenched, pain flashing in your eyes. “How dare you? You don’t deserve his heart. He was—”

Another sharp, pulsing pain hit him, cutting you off as Lloyd’s hand shot to his chest, wincing. “Urgh…” His expression shifted, as if he’d only just realized something. “Fine… fine,” he murmured, almost to himself, forcing his breath steady. “I’ll keep my mouth shut, alright? No more nasty words to her.”

Your eyes narrowed, bewildered. “Are you… talking to yourself?”

Lloyd’s gaze snapped back to you, rolling his eyes. “Think what you want.” Without warning, he took your hand and pressed it over his heart, his gaze unyielding. “Feel that? It’s your fiancé’s heart, beating. For you.”

You froze, your breath catching as you felt the steady thud against your palm. “Justin?” you whispered, tears threatening to spill.

Lloyd’s bitter expression softened as he watched you, something strange and unrecognizable creeping into his eyes. This unwanted melancholy clawed at him, a feeling he’d tried to bury.

You withdrew your hand, blinking back tears as you cleared your throat. “Come in.”

As he walked into your apartment, his eyes fell on the stacks of boxes lining the walls. Fragments of another man’s life, packed away, waiting for their final rest. He picked up a framed photograph: you and a man, both smiling against a backdrop of starlit skies. Justin.

Suddenly, an image flashed in his mind, clear and insistent. He whispered, “Luna.”

Your gaze snapped to him, voice tense. “Why did you say that name?”

He set down the photo, his face unreadable. “I… heard it. In a dream.” His brow furrowed, piecing it together. “It’s what you wanted to name… your baby, isn’t it?”

You glanced down, your hand moving instinctively to your belly as you whispered, “It is. He chose it when we found out she’d be a girl.” Your voice shook as you continued, “If it weren’t for that accident… he’d still be here.”

The mention of the accident sent a dull ache through Lloyd’s chest, something raw yet strangely familiar, though not as sharp as before.

“How did you even find out I was the… patient?” he asked, keeping his tone steady. As a covert agent, he wasn’t easy to track. His life, his work—it all existed in the shadows, far from public records.

Your expression hardened. “I bribed someone at the hospital for the information.” You held his gaze, unflinching.

Lloyd’s eyes widened, a flicker of surprise breaking through his hardened demeanor. Maybe you weren’t as innocent as you appeared after all.

After bribing for information, you found yourself following Carmichael, though he didn’t notice right away. When you finally confronted him, the sight of you—especially with your pregnant belly—caught him completely off guard.

Flustered and visibly unsettled, he tried to shake you off, but you raised your voice, not backing down, drawing the attention of several tall, intimidating figures nearby. They were built like Lloyd, all sharp eyes and stone expressions, now watching you with interest.

Finally, one of them approached. “Madam, please come inside.”

He escorted you into the building, leading you through grand halls lined with marble columns and ancient statues, giving the place a regal, castle-like feel. You were taken to a dimly lit room where an elderly man sat, his eyes scanning you from head to toe before shifting to Carmichael with a steely gaze. “Take her to him.”

When you recounted the encounter to Lloyd, he seemed genuinely shocked. “You met the boss?”

You shrugged, a faint smirk at his surprise. “Guess he got sentimental. Something about seeing a single mother… reminded him of his own upbringing.”

Lloyd scoffed, shaking his head. “Old man’s gone soft, I swear.”

Your gaze hardened as you looked at him, “You… you’ve got a second chance here. Don’t waste his heart—it’s not just some toy.”

Lloyd scoffed, shrugging. “What, so I’m supposed to be grateful now?”

Without responding, he turned toward the door, only to pause. His hand froze in mid-reach. You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“Shh. It's to quiet.” He raised a finger, then his eyes widened. “Get down!” In one swift move, he yanked you to the floor, shielding you behind a couch, one arm protectively covering your stomach.

A faint breeze brushed past your neck, and with horror, you realized it wasn’t the wind but a bullet—whizzing inches from where you’d been standing.

Lloyd glanced at you, voice urgent. “You’ve got three minutes to hide. Can you get to your room?”

“Y-yeah?” you stammered, caught off guard.

“Good. Move,” he instructed, drawing his gun. You scrambled to your feet, clutching your belly, and darted towards your room.

“Stay put until I say so. Here.” He tossed a phone to you. “Hit number one—they’ll know what it means.”

Heart racing, you fled into the closet, squeezing yourself inside as you dialed the number, hands shaking.

From outside, muffled sounds of movement and sharp, metallic clicks told you the danger was still near. You held your breath as you listened, praying for silence to mean safety.

Meanwhile, Lloyd braced himself, greeting his would-be attackers with a cold, calculating stare. Five men stood before him, poised and armed. “Who sent you?” he demanded.

One of them smirked. “Not your concern.”

They moved in, circling him. Lloyd flexed his grip on his gun, his gaze hard and unyielding. As they lunged, he met them with ruthless efficiency, each blow calculated and relentless. Outnumbered five to one, they clearly underestimated him. He was brutal, merciless, and unrelenting, disarming them one by one.

Yet as they fought, he noticed something strange. They avoided striking his chest, almost like they were purposefully steering clear of it. And none of them seemed eager to land a fatal blow. Why would they hold back?

Lloyd’s frustration ignited into something more—a bloodlust sharper than he’d felt in years. The thought nagged at him: was this intense desire to protect you coming from his own heart? Or Justin’s?

Under his breath, he murmured, “You really did love her, didn’t you?”

In your bedroom, you flinched at every thud and crash, fear twisting your stomach. Silence fell, the air thick with suspense. Had he survived?

Then, the door creaked open, and Lloyd appeared, smirking. “Your savior is here.”

Relief washed over you, and you rolled your eyes. “You’re impossible.”

He extended a hand, helping you to your feet as you steadied yourself, still catching your breath. “Who were they?”

He glanced back at the empty room. The inturders has gone, his gaze dark. “I don’t know. But I know someone who does.”

💘💘💘💘

You and Lloyd now stood face-to-face with Carmichael, the man’s typically composed expression slightly fractured as he glanced between the two of you.

“Are you alright?” Carmichael directed his question to you, his eyes narrowing as if scrutinizing for signs of distress.

You exhaled, steadying yourself. “I’m fine.”

Lloyd scoffed. “Why are you asking her? I’m the one they came after.” He stepped closer, his voice darkening. “Who the hell are they? Some new group making waves?”

Adjusting his glasses, Carmichael replied, “You wouldn’t know them because they operate in an entirely different league.”

“The upper world?” Lloyd’s voice held a dangerous edge.

Carmichael nodded.

“What does that mean?” you asked, casting a nervous glance at Lloyd.

Lloyd didn’t want to tell you, but because of this damn heart he had, he felt compelled to share everything. “To make it simple, my job is in the underworld. I handle deeper, darker things than you could ever imagine. Meanwhile, the upper world is like kindergarten—mafia, gangsters, that kind of people.”

You swallowed, a chill creeping up your spine. “But mafias are still dangerous for people like me.”

Carmichael nodded in agreement. “She’s right. It’s a very real danger for her.” He turned to Lloyd, a strange resignation in his eyes. “They’re Mafia.”

Lloyd’s brow furrowed, a glint of anger flashing across his face. “I’ve got nothing to do with them.”

Carmichael held his silence a beat longer than usual, then said, “What they want is your heart.”

The words hit both you and Lloyd like a bullet. Your eyes widened as you exchanged looks, Lloyd’s jaw going rigid. He scoffed, disbelief giving way to anger. “What makes this heart so special?”

“Their leader needs it,” Carmichael explained, retrieving a file. He opened it, laying down a profile with a photo labeled Mr. Cicadas.

“This group,” he continued, “is an alliance between the Italian and Japanese mafias. And this man—Mr. Cicadas—is the head. The only donor who’s a 100% match is…” He paused, glancing at you with a rare hint of sympathy.

“Justin…” you murmured, your face going pale as the truth clawed its way to the surface. Lloyd saw the shock draining the color from your face and wrapped a steadying arm around you.

Lloyd’s tone was grim. “Let me guess. This heart was meant for him. But you gave it to me. Why?”

Carmichael met his gaze. “Our motto is clear: ‘Kill one person to save millions.’”

Lloyd raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms with a half-smirk. “So, you wanted this insect guy dead—that’s why I got the heart instead?”

You never imagined your fiancé’s heart could hold such value. “Was that man really so evil?”

Carmichael nodded. “He doesn’t deserve to live. It’s a long story, but let’s just say that your fiancé was too good a man to lose his life to someone like Mr. Cicadas.”

On that day, three people were dying: Mr. Cicadas, who would do anything to stay alive; Justin, who was succumbing to his injuries from the accident; and Lloyd, who had been shot through the heart, unexpectedly accepting his fate. Three dying individuals connected by the same match of a heart.

But for Justin, there was no hope. In his final moments, he wished to donate his organs to help another, embodying a selfless desire to save a life.

Yet there was only one heart for two desperate souls. A heart is incredibly precious to anyone fighting for survival, and Mr. Cicadas didn’t deserve it. The choice became clear: it had to be Lloyd.

You felt your anger rise, bitter words forming before you could stop yourself. “And yet, how is he,” you gestured at Lloyd, “any better?”

“At least he wasn’t the reason your fiancé died.” Carmichael’s words hung in the air, like an accusation you could barely process.

“What?” Your voice cracked. “What did you just say?”

Carmichael’s jaw tensed. “Mr. Cicadas needed a transplant urgently, and your fiancé was the best match—healthy, young, and alive.” He trailed off as he saw the shock turn your expression hollow. “The car accident was planned.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a dark shroud. Your hands instinctively wrapped around your belly as the realization hit: Justin hadn’t died because of some unavoidable tragedy—he’d been hunted, killed, because of someone greeds. You felt the hot sting of tears, your voice quivering with grief. “He didn’t deserve any of this…”

Lloyd, sensing the pain radiating from you, placed a steady hand on your back, his own gaze shadowed by a strange sorrow that he’d not felt in a long time.

“They want it back now,” Lloyd muttered, a dangerous calm settling in his tone.

Carmichael’s mask slipped, revealing a flicker of rage. “That monster should have died when he failed to receive it. But the bastard’s still alive.”

Lloyd looked over in surprise; he’d never heard Carmichael curse, not with this level of disgust. It was clear Mr. Cicadas was worse than he’d imagined, a man who even the darkest operatives wanted dead.

His voice hardened, a quiet resolve in his words. “I have to stay alive, then.”

Carmichael stepped forward, voice low but firm, eyes blazing with determination. “Our boss left one message for you: ‘Do whatever is necessary to stay alive.’”

You gripped your stomach, thinking of Justin. Memories flashed—his warmth, his laugh. His life had been ripped from him, all to satisfy the greed of a man who, by all rights, should have been six feet under. Tears slipped down your cheeks as the truth sunk in, the ache of his loss twisting your heart in ways that words couldn’t convey.

Author's note: I put an Easter egg in this. Do you know which paragraph? 🤭

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[buckets-and-trees]

Welcome Home, Pumpkin [sugar]

Characters/Pairings: Lloyd Hansen x curvy Female!Reader Word Count: 2k Summary: Bad ethics. Zero impulse control. This is what everyone says about him. What will it mean for you tonight?

Content/Warnings: pregnancy talk, use of pet name "Pumpkin," established relationship, explicit smut (vaginal intercourse, slight overstimulation, fingering, marking/biting), dacryphilia, dirty talk

Notes: This is one of three in a set of short stories with Lloyd served three ways - soft, soft!dark, and dark. The three will feature the same setting, overlapping themes, shared thoughts, and bits of dialogue. Sugar is the soft version. Also, this is the first time I've written something significant for just Lloyd - I've had him in a multi-character piece and some thots/drabbles, but *takes deep breath* first solo project for him from me! Thank you @stargazingfangirl18 for holding my hand periodically throughout this!

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 kick off your shoes, drop your bag, and turn on some music before padding down the hallway to your bedroom, more than ready to change from your more professional clothes to something comfy to lounge in the rest of the evening. 

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. “Lloyd Hansen!”

He chuckles, rising from the spot he’d been perched on the edge of the bed. 

“You’re not supposed to be here!” 

He makes a show of bowing slightly, “And yet, here I am.”

You hesitate in the doorway, studying the face of the man you are so familiar with. The steel blue eyes, the sharp jawline, the ridiculous mustache you’ve come to love. 

You can sense he’s eager, impatient, but he will wait for you to come to him. 

As if you’ve been anything but drawn to this man since the day you two first crossed paths. He was dangerous and certainly not suited for you. Yet that had changed, little by little, until you couldn’t imagine living your life without this fierce man folded into every part of it, and every part of your heart. 

“Are you going to tell me what you’re keeping from me?” he asks, lifting his chin just a fraction. 

And oh that look does something to you - the delicious swoop in your stomach that always makes you weak and eager for him. 

Slowly, you take measured steps toward him, biting your lip. 

How will he react? 

It’s been the question on your mind all week. 

“Pumpkin?” he presses, tone low, calculated. 

Two final steps to bring you nearly toe to toe with him and you reach for his hand. 

“There’s a little pumpkin on the way,” 

Lloyd opens and then closes his mouth. 

You can hear the beats of one of your favorite songs drifting to you down the hallway from the kitchen, and your heart races in anticipation, needing him to say something. 

You scrunch your nose. “Have I finally rendered you speechless?” you laugh, but there’s a nervous edge to it.

You’ve only spoken about children once, and it was fast, but that was then and hypothetically, and this was now and reality.   

Lloyd sits back on the bed, tugging you forward to stand between his legs. He brings each of his large hands to your hips, then slowly rubs up and down your sides, eyes focusing on your stomach. 

“I knew it,” he whispers. 

You place your hands gently on his broad shoulders. You leave the left one there, but your right hand smoothes over the tightly corded muscles, then up his neck until you’re cupping his jaw, encouraging him to look up at you. 

“Fuck. I wasn’t made to be a good father,” he says. 

You brush your fingers over his forehead. You’re the only one who gives him softness. Sometimes he leans into your touch, but this isn’t one of those times. His mind is too locked into this revelation. 

You tip your head down and press a kiss to his lips. He does kiss you back, and his hands squeeze your waist. 

“You weren’t made to be a good husband either,” you say, pulling back for a moment, looking directly in his eyes, “but you’re the husband I want.”

In one swift motion, Lloyd 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 another kiss. 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, waiting with bated breath. 

“I’d burn down the world for you, you know that?”

“Mhmm,” you hum. Your body surges up, pelvis seeking his. “I do.”

He gives you what you want, grinding down into you, and you moan. “And fuck if I’m not already ready to burn it down for them, too,” he murmurs, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses down your chest. He pauses above your belly, tracing his fingers over your soft curves, where you’ll soon start to grow with his child.

Lloyd's touch is reverent, almost hesitant, as his fingers ghost over your skin. You've never seen him like this before - so gentle, so in awe. It makes your heart swell with love for this complicated man.

"I never thought..." he trails off, voice thick with emotion.

You card your fingers through his hair, encouraging him to continue. "Never thought what, my love?"

He looks up at you, eyes shining. "That I could have this. A family. Something pure and good."

You cup his face in your hands, drawing him up for a tender kiss.

"You deserve it," you whisper against his lips. "We deserve it."

Lloyd pulls back slightly, studying your face with an intensity that makes your breath catch. His thumb traces your cheekbone, then brushes over your bottom lip.

"I don't deserve you," he says, voice low and rough. He pulls back slightly, searching your eyes. "I've done terrible things, Pumpkin. Things that would make you run if you knew. But I'm too selfish to let you go."

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "I’ve told you before: I'm not going anywhere."

His lips crash into yours, hungry and demanding. You respond with equal fervor, arching into him as his hands roam your body, knowing every inch of it intimately after so much time spent like this, body to body, skin to skin, the rest of the world forgotten.

Lloyd breaks the kiss, leaving you breathless and wanting more. He trails his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin there. You gasp and tilt your head, giving him better access.

"Mine," he growls against your throat. "All mine."

"Yes," you breathe, fingers tangling in his hair. "Yours, Lloyd. Always yours."

His hands slide down to your hips, gripping them possessively. He pulls back to look at you, eyes dark with desire and something else - a fierce protectiveness that makes your heart race.

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. You moan and clutch at 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 melt into him, and your eyes slip closed, but he won't allow it.

"Look at me," he demands, voice rough. He grips your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. "That's it, Pumpkin. Let me see that pretty face.”

You don’t realize you are crying until you feel Lloyd thumbing the tears away from your cheek. Your heart skips a beat as you stare into his fierce, blue eyes. Lloyd's mustache twitches as he smirks, clearly enjoying the way you’ve gotten lost in the moment.

It only seems to spur Lloyd on, his thrusts becoming harder, but not faster. Each powerful movement forces small whimpers from your lips.

"Such sweet sounds," Lloyd murmurs, his breath hot across your face. "I can’t fucking get enough of hearing you sing for me like this."

Your body trembles beneath Lloyd's, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze and the relentless rhythm of his hips. You strain against his grip on your wrists, desperate to touch him, to pull him closer.

"Please," you whimper, arching your back. "Lloyd, I need…"

He chuckles darkly, nipping at your earlobe. "What do you need, Pumpkin? Tell me."

"You," you gasp as he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside you. "All of you. Faster, harder…"

Lloyd releases your wrists, allowing you to wrap your arms around him and pull him flush against you. His muscular body covers yours completely as he picks up the pace, driving into you with renewed vigor.

"Like this?" he growls, snapping his hips forcefully.

"Yes!" you cry out, digging your nails into his back. "Oh god, yes!"

Lloyd buries his face in your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin there as he pounds into you relentlessly. The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your breathless moans.

You feel the tension building within you, coiling tighter and tighter with each powerful thrust. Lloyd's breath is ragged against your neck, his muscular body moving with a primal intensity that leaves you dizzy with desire.

"That's it," he growls, voice low and gravelly. “Fucking come around my cock, Mrs. Hansen.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you arch into him, chasing your release. Lloyd shifts slightly, changing the angle, and suddenly stars explode behind your eyelids. You cry out his name as you come.

Lloyd growls in satisfaction as he feels you clench around him, your body shuddering with pleasure. He doesn't slow his pace, driving you through your orgasm and beyond. The overstimulation makes you whimper and clutch at his shoulders.

"Lloyd," you gasp, voice trembling. "I can't—"

"You can," he insists, his tone brooking no argument. "And you will. Give me another, Pumpkin."

His hand snakes between your bodies, finding your sensitive bundle of nerves. He rubs tight circles there, timing his movements with with his thrusts.

Your body responds to Lloyd's expert touch, despite your protests. The overstimulation borders on painful, but the pleasure builds again, impossibly intense. You're trembling, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as Lloyd pushes you relentlessly towards another peak.

"That's it," he growls, his voice strained with his own approaching climax. "Show me how good I make you feel."

With a keening cry, you shatter again, your body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crash over you. Lloyd's movements become erratic as he chases his own release. His fingers dig into your hips, sure to leave bruises, but you don't care. You want to be marked by him, to carry the evidence of his passion on your skin.

"Fuck," he growls, his voice strained. "You're so goddamn perfect."

With a final, powerful thrust, Lloyd buries himself deep inside you and comes with a guttural groan. You feel the warmth of his release filling you, and you cling to him, savoring the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress.

You can feel his heart thundering against your chest, but Lloyd's weight is comforting, grounding you as your own heartbeat slowly returns to normal.

As you both come down, you lace the fingers of one of your hands with his, and your other hand drops down to stroke softly up and down his back.

Finally, Lloyd lifts his head from the crook of your neck, his steel blue eyes searching your face. His expression is softer now, a tenderness there that only you ever get to see.

But still, there’s a ghost of a smirk on his face. “You make me crazy, Mrs. Hansen.”

You laugh. “Don’t you mean, ‘I love you, Mrs. Hansen?’”

Lloyd's eyes crinkle at the corners as he chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that reverberates through your body. "Isn't that what I said?" he teases, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You roll your eyes playfully, but your heart swells with affection. "I love you too, you impossible man."

He shifts, carefully rolling off you but keeping you close, tucking you against his side. His hand splays possessively over your stomach, and you can't help but smile at the gesture.

"A little pumpkin," he whispers.

“Ours,” you join your hand over his.

“Fuck,” he says, and you laugh and kiss him again.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

all Welcome Home, Pumpkin stories

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[randomagnes0210]

Re-reading! ❤️

It will be a year in 4 months. Maybe we'll find out what's up with the reader, Jake and Lloyd? 🤔 I'm not suggesting anything 😜

A Sin For A Sin

Summary: you told Lloyd what would happen if he cheated on you.

Pairings: Jake Jensen X Reader, Jake Jensen X Reader X Lloyd Hansen

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  cheating, alcohol consumption, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, unprotected sex, PIV sex, voyeurism, double penetration, degradation, praise kink, size kink, spitting, implied basement wife, creampie, somnophilia, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.4K

Chris Evans One Shots

Lloyd Hansen Masterlist

A/N: For @iamesca who had the brilliant idea to pair Lloyd and Jake together 🫠😮‍💨😮‍💨

Keep reading

[witchywithwhiskey]

a gift for the bar owner

pairings: dark trucker!ari levinson x female reader, soft!dark bar owner!curtis everett x female reader

summary: for curtis's birthday, ari gives you to him for the night.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, drunk sex, intoxication, rough sex, oral object insertion (f receiving), masturbation (m), cumshot, exhibitionism, sadism/masochism, painplay, rough body play, biting, free use, heavy objectification, heavy degradation, humiliation kink, salirophilia (kink for ruining someone's appearance/dirtying them up), somnophilia, cock warming, dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink (only with ari), pet names (bambi, baby, kiddo), possessive behavior, aftercare, a couple mean hot men—let me know if i missed anything!!!

word count: 7.9k

a/n: ok so i have no excuse for this except i saw a gif of a girl getting wine poured over her face/chest and i wondered who of my characters would do that. and apparently the answer is dive bar owner curtis. so here we are. also please note that this little fic takes place after the chapter of trucker king where curtis and lloyd will be properly introduced so no, you're not supposed to know what exactly reader's tattoo is and yes, i will be revealing that in due time.

trucker king masterlist ● trucker au masterlist

Since Curtis Everett was one of Ari Levinson’s oldest friends—and one of the few people he trusted—your trucker decided that the perfect gift to give his friend for his birthday was you. A whole night where you were nothing more than Curtis’s free use fuck toy. 

The only condition was that Curtis had to follow the same rules Ari had set the last time he’d let his friend use you—no kissing, no permanent marks, and no coming inside you. Curtis had quickly agreed, and the plans were set.

Ari hadn’t asked you whether you wanted to be gifted to Curtis for his birthday, but you still thought it was a great idea. 

After all, Curtis worked so hard running Everett’s Roadhouse, the dive bar just off the highway that was frequented by Ari and plenty of other truckers, and he deserved a night of having his own personal fuck toy to use however he wanted. It was his birthday, and he didn’t have a girl of his own, so you didn’t mind stepping in for the night.

In fact, after the evening you’d spent with Curtis and Ari’s other oldest friend, Lloyd Hansen—when your trucker had given them permission to use you however they wanted in exchange for some favors—you were excited to be Curtis’s birthday gift. You’d liked the big, grumbling bar owner, and you wanted to make his birthday special. 

As part of his gift, Ari had let Curtis pick out what you’d wear. So you strolled into Everett’s Roadhouse on the night of Curtis’s birthday wearing the sweetest little sundress you owned—and nothing else besides the shoes on your feet. 

The dress was a bright white cotton with little flowers dotted all over it, and short enough to swirl around your upper thighs. The sweet little garment was at odds with your surroundings in the dive bar, which were grimy and dirty, lit by dim lightbulbs and flickering neon beer signs. It made you stand out immediately.

As soon as you entered the bar, every man in the establishment turned to look at you, their gazes ranging from drunken interest to greedy hunger. Even with Ari at your side, his posessive hand on your lower back, they couldn’t seem to drag their covetous eyes away from you, like you were an oasis in the desert.  

It took you a moment to understand the attention, but when you did, a delicious tremor of excitement raced down your spine—you were the only woman in the whole building. The bar was closed for Curtis’s private party, and the only people in attendance were his friends, who were all rough-looking men that you presumed were mostly truckers or old friends like Ari. 

You wondered, not for the first time since Ari had told you his plans for his friend’s birthday, what exactly Curtis would do with you. You knew Ari’s rules would save you from anything too unpleasant, but there was so much they didn’t cover. The possibilities of how Curtis might use you made your pussy tingle with anticipation.

Ari’s hand was firm on your lower back as he guided you further into the bar, your wedge sandals sticking slightly to the filthy wooden floors of the roadhouse. The gazes of all the men you walked past slid over your bare skin like oil, the sensation settling heavily between your thighs, where a sensual warmth bloomed. 

That warmth only grew the closer you got to Curtis, who stood half a head taller than any man in the bar. The imposing bear of a man was leaning against the bartop, talking with someone about something, his broad shoulders and thick biceps stretching the limits of his black t-shirt. Curtis’s blue eyes were bright in the dingy lights of the bar, contrasting against his pale skin, dark beard and shorn hair. 

When you finally arrived at the circle of men gathered around Curtis, Ari gave you a shove through the crowd and you stumbled toward the bar owner. It was only when Curtis fumbled to catch you in his arms—the stench of beer thick on his breath—that you realized he was already so drunk, he could barely stand, and that was why he’d been leaning against the bar. 

“Hey there, bambi,” he slurred, his arms loosely circling your waist. His hands slid down to grope your ass, but Curtis must’ve forgotten he was still holding a beer, because you felt it tip. A second later, cold liquid spilled over the plush curves of your ass.

Instinctively, you squealed his name, “Curtis!” The cold beer was running down the valley between your cheeks, making you squirm in his arms. You tried to get away from the spilling liquid, but you ended up pressing closer to Curtis’s massive, burly chest, practically climbing the tall man with your fingers fisting in his t-shirt and your body plastering to his.

Thankfully, Curtis didn’t mind in the least. He managed to right his beer and chuckled, looking down at you fondly, his mouth curled in a devastating smirk even as his eyes were hazy with drink. The alcohol seemed to have softened Curtis’s rough edges, and he appeared almost warm—nothing like the grumbling man you’d met previously.

“Damn, bambi, ya just got here,” he said, loud enough for the men closest to him to hear. “And yer already trying to jump on my dick like some kind of slut, huh?” He chuckled darkly and his friends joined in, making heat creep up your neck and fill your cheeks. 

But you didn’t deny it.

Instead, you recovered yourself quickly, forgetting the beer still plastering your dress to your ass and pressed closer to Curtis. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your tits against his broad chest, you enjoyed the way his eyes dipped lazily down to your low-cut neckline. 

“I’m yours for the night, big man,” you purred, your body warming and responding to being pressed so tight against Curtis’s muscled chest. It wasn’t difficult to let a seductive smile curl your lips. “You can do anything you want with me.” 

A grin spread slowly across Curtis’s face, the expression lecherous on his handsome features as he leered down at you. 

Before he responded, though, his gaze shifted over your shoulder, and he gave a quick nod. You knew without looking the gesture was meant for Ari—an acknowledgement that Curtis remembered your trucker’s rules and understood he couldn’t do anything. But close enough. 

Curtis’s free hand groped your ass hard as he turned to the crowd, taking a swig of his beer before calling out to his friends.

“Didja hear that fellas?” he crowed, his excited energy riling up the throng of men, all of whom seemed to be as drunk or drunker than Curtis. “Ari’s little cock slut said I get to do anything I want with her tonight!” 

A cheer rose up from the crowd, men all around you raising their glasses in the air while they yelled so loud it felt like a physical cloud of excitement. The energy was infectious, an eager grin curving your lips as you looked around at all the truckers and degenerates who were celebrating your objectification as a free use fuck toy.

Out of curiosity, you turned to look for Ari among them. You found your trucker standing still and quiet, watching you, a glass of amber liquid in one hand. His arms were crossed over his broad chest and he wore a devious little smirk on his face that had your body warming with arousal. Even though he wasn’t joining in on the deafening cheer, you knew he was just as excited by the prospect of seeing you used by Curtis as everyone else.

Before Ari could direct you to look back at Curtis, the big man you were plastered against got your attention with his next words, shouted to the crowd.

Curtis had waited until the cheering died down a little to ask, “So what should I do with her first?”  

Obscene suggestions were hurled at you and Curtis, men’s voices blending into a cacophony of depravity. The things the crowd wanted Curtis to do to you ranged so wildly from nearly tame to absolutely vile that it made your head spin. Ari’s rules would prevent the worst of the suggestions, but not everything that Curtis’s friends were calling out, and you wondered with a twisted shiver of excitement what your trucker’s friend would pick to do to you.

“POUR YOUR BEER ON HER!”

Curtis’s whole body turned to the voice that had called out that last suggestion, dragging you along with him since your arms were still looped around his neck, his hand still holding your ass. Curtis pointed at his friend with his beer, some of it sloshing onto the floor with the fervor of the gesture.

“Now that’s an idea,” he shouted to the man in the crowd you couldn’t see. Curtis tipped his beer in his friend’s direction then took a swig. He looked down at where you were still pressed against his chest, your body hanging from where your arms were holding onto him. “Get on your knees, bambi.” His voice was rolling thunder, so deep and dark, it sent tiny, pleasurable zaps of lightning through your nervous system. 

The speed with which you detached yourself from Curtis and dropped to your knees had the men all around you whistling in appreciation. You heard more than a few of them mutter things like, “What a good, well-trained slut,” and “Gotta get me a girl like that.”

You preened and beamed with pride at the praise, finding Ari in the crowd again and hoping your behavior reflected well on him. He’d been the one to train you to follow orders so well, after all.

Your trucker gave you a small nod of recognition that made happiness burst in your chest, and you turned back to Curtis with a happy bounce of your hips. You couldn’t help but notice the low groans that came as a result of the little movement and you smiled wider.

The wooden floor was sticky beneath your bare knees, but you paid it no mind. You suspected—and you’d turn out to be right—that you’d be dirtier and filthier than even the floor of Everett’s Roadhouse before the night was through. The excitement you felt made you bounce again, making your sweet little sundress flutter around your thighs.

Curtis’s eyes watched the hem of your dress hungrily, seemingly distracted by the movement until he shook himself and remembered what he was doing. Raising his beer, Curtis let the crowd cheer for a moment while you waited with anticipation. From your spot on the floor, Curtis looked even bigger and more intimidating, which made something low in your belly quiver with excitement, heat gathering between your thighs as your thoughts skated away.

A growled question from your trucker’s friend brought you back to the moment.

“Ya ready, bambi?” 

Your hands were laying lightly on your thighs, your knees spread on the floor. You were more than ready, and at Curtis’s question, you tossed your head back and pushed your tits out, giving him a challenging smirk as you purred, “Gimme what ya got, big man.”

A half feral grin spread across Curtis’s face, and then he was tipping his bottle toward you, cold beer splashing over your face mere seconds after you shut your eyes. The pungent liquid rolled down your cheeks and slid down your neck, soaking the front of your white dress. 

You could feel the fabric clinging to your skin, the white cotton no doubt becoming see-through as it was soaked in beer. Your nipples puckered and hardened against the flimsy material, putting on a show for Curtis and the crowd of men around you.

The bar owner emptied the bottle over your face and the front of your body, the beer getting in your mouth and nose, rivulets streaming down over your tits and between your spread thighs. It dripped to the floor beneath you, creating a small puddle on the sticky wooden boards. 

All around you, men cheered loudly and lewdly, urging Curtis to degrade you as the filthy slut you were. You grinned at the attention, loving every second of it and knowing that the men were only allowed to witness what Curtis was doing because Ari allowed it. Because Ari had given you to his friend for his birthday, and this was what Curtis had decided to do with you.

When the beer stopped flowing, you fluttered your eyes open, blinking the alcohol from your vision as you stared up into Curtis’s darkened blue eyes. You knew you must look a mess. You’d worn makeup that wouldn’t hold up to such an onslaught, and you had no doubt that your black mascara was streaming down your cheeks and adding to the wreckage of your face. But the way Curtis looked at you made you think he liked it—a lot.

“Edgar, gimme another beer!” Curtis called, keeping his gaze locked on you, his blue eyes dipping down to take in the sight of your beer-stained dress. 

The slip of fabric was sticking to your skin and it had become see-through where it had gotten wet. But it wasn’t drenched yet, and you could tell from the glint in Curtis’s eye that he wouldn’t stop until it bared you entirely. Excitement fizzed through you, and you bounced your hips while you waited impatiently for Curtis’s command to be met.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw one of the bartenders open a new bottle of beer and pass it into Curtis’s big, waiting hand. Neither you nor the bar owner took your eyes off each other, and it made the moment all the more intense. For all that you had an audience to your degradation, in that moment, you were there for Curtis, and only Curtis. You were his, if only temporarily, and he seemed to relish that knowledge just as much as you did.

“Ya thirsty, bambi?” he asked, some of the drunken slurring leeching out of his tone as he grinned lecherously down at you. His gaze broke away from you and he looked around at the men gathered close but not touching you, his eyes sparkling with depravity when he met yours again. “Ya want some more?’

Your heart was racing with excitement, the awareness of having so many men watching you thrumming deliciously beneath your skin; you couldn’t help the way your hips bounced with eagerness as you nodded quickly. “Yes, please,” you said sweetly, biting your lip to stop from grinning too wide up at your trucker’s friend.

Curtis’s eyes darkened with sinful intent and you felt yourself growing wet. But the dampness between your thighs had nothing to do with the beer Curtis had poured on you, and everything to do with the fact that you were so turned on by the way he was treating you. And all the while, you could feel your trucker’s eyes on you, a reminder that you were Ari’s and he’d given you to Curtis as a gift. 

“Stick your tongue out,” Curtis rumbled, a thread of steel in his voice that made you shiver. In that moment, he reminded you of the grumbling man you’d met when Ari first introduced you to his friends, and you realized you’d missed that side of him. “Show all my friends what a good little slut you are.”

If you could’ve followed the order and smiled at the same time, you would’ve. Instead, you had to settle for submitting to Curtis’s command, sticking your tongue out as far as possible and tipping your head back, letting him see down your throat.

It was an invitation for him to give you more, to give you all he had, and the entire bar knew it. The men surrounding you roared their approval while Curtis offered you a pleased little smirk. It was the nicest he’d ever looked and it nearly made you smile, but you held your position.

“That’s it, open wide, slut,” Curtis encouraged in a low, roughened voice, depraved delight sparking in his blue gaze as he degraded you on the floor of his bar.

The look in his eye and the tenor of his tone made you quiver. Your pussy throbbed more insistently with need the longer you stayed on your knees and submitted to the degradation the bar owner offered. But you channeled that desire into opening your mouth wider, sticking your tongue out a little bit further, catching the approving smirk that flickered at the corners of Curtis’s mouth.

The bar owner nodded at you, took a sip of his new beer, and then, with no other preamble, he tipped the brown bottle over your face, showering you in the bitter liquid. 

With your lips open and tongue out, plenty of the beer splashed into your mouth and you swallowed it down as best you could. Despite your best efforts, you choked and gagged a little, tears slipping from your eyes to join the rest of the mess on your face as you endured Curtis’s treatment.

The men in the crowd jeered as you struggled beneath the degrading pour of Curtis’s beer, but he shifted his hand, the cold liquid moving to pour down the front of your body. The stream seemed endless and you could feel the beer soaking into your dress until the entire front of the garment was drenched.

By the time the bottle was empty, you felt half drowned, gulping down air as the beer you’d swallowed sloshed around in your belly. Your head was a little dizzy, and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the lack of air, but you swayed a little on your knees, glancing down to find that the entire front of your dress was see-through, your tits and puckered nipples on full display for everyone to see.

At the sight of yourself, your pussy throbbed, your inner walls clenching pathetically around nothing as desire blazed through your body. When you looked up at Curtis, you were certain he could see your arousal in every line of your expression, and he smirked, the expression sharp on his handsome face.

“Y’know, bambi, your dress is a little dirty,” Curtis rumbled, as if he hadn’t been the one to sully it in the first place. But you didn’t care about that, you only cared about the anticipation building in your body. You knew Curtis was leading somewhere and you couldn’t wait for him to get there. “I can’t let you walk around my bar like that, dripping beer everywhere.” 

It escaped no one that Curtis’s dive bar was plenty dirty already and a few drops of beer wouldn’t make it much worse, but a cheer rose from the crowd as they caught on to the fact that Curtis was planning something. You bounced slightly on your knees, pouting up at the bar owner and trying to look abashed, biting your lip against a grin. 

“What’re you gonna do about it, big man?” you asked sweetly. 

Curtis gave you a half-feral grin, the expression more snarl than anything else, and it was your only warning. 

Faster than you would’ve thought possible for the big, drunk man, Curtis stooped down and slipped his hands into the neck of your dress, his rough fingers grazing your soft flesh. You let out a quiet little moan that you were certain only Curtis could hear, making him pause for a brief second, his eyes fluttering closed. But then his hands were moving again, yanking on your dress.

In a split second, Curtis ripped your dress right down the center. You gasped loudly as your tits were bared to the crowd of men in the bar, the sound loud in the moment of stunned silence. Your breasts bounced free of their confines, your nipples hardening and revealing to the whole room how much you were enjoying Curtis’s rough treatment.

The cheer that broke out at your nakedness was so loud, it made your ears ring. It also drowned out the sound of rending fabric as Curtis tore the shredded garment from your body, flinging it into the crowd. His eyes were heavy as they trailed down your body, your skin prickling everywhere he looked—your nipples tightening into desperate peaks and your pussy weeping from where it was nestled between your parted thighs.

Curtis’s eyes flared at the sight of the tattoo just above your slit, a reminder of who you belonged to. But you hoped it also reminded Curtis of the first night you’d met him—the night Ari had given you to both Curtis and Lloyd to use how they wanted. Your pussy dripped at the memory, and it seemed Curtis was just as affected, the big man pausing for a moment before he shook himself. 

“That’s better,” Curtis muttered, his gaze lingering on your weeping pussy like he wanted to bury his bearded face against your soft cunt. Instead, he dragged his eyes back up your body, the blue of his irises darkened to the color of the midnight sky as he murmured for your ears only, “Look so fucking pretty, bambi.”

You smiled and ducked your head at the compliment, which meant more to you than the obscene catcalls and lewd cries from the crowd around you. It was a reminder of the friendship that you and Curtis shared. You may have met because he was one of your trucker’s oldest friends, but you hoped Curtis knew you thought of him as your friend too.

“Thank you,” you whispered, looking up at the bar owner from under your lashes. “Are you enjoying your birthday?”

Something resembling a grin curved the edges of Curtis’s mouth, the expression nearly hidden in his beard. His eyes slid away and looked up, and you knew without having to check that he was looking at Ari again. Before you could discern what the glance meant, though, Curtis was chucking you under the chin and saying, “I am, thanks to you, bambi.” 

Your heart gave a happy little flutter, but before you could respond, Curtis was standing up and waving his arms to get the crowd to quiet down. “What d’ya think fellas, is Ari’s little cock slut dirty enough yet?” 

The beer that had already been poured on you was starting to dry into a sticky, tacky layer on your skin, but your pussy dripped at the thought of Curtis wanting to make you even filthier. And it seemed his friends liked the idea as well, because they cheered so loud, it felt like the floor was shaking beneath your knees. 

Edgar the bartender already had a beer open and waiting for Curtis when the big man turned to grab one. That time, the bar owner didn’t even need to command you to open your mouth and stick out your tongue—you did that all on your own. Curtis’s smirk was pleased and his blue eyes glimmered with fondness as he tipped the beer over your face, pouring the liquid down your throat and over your body to the cheers of all his friends.

For the better part of the next hour, Curtis took his time defiling you while you sat, naked and on your knees, in the center of his bar, enduring it willingly as the free use toy he’d been given for his birthday. A good amount of the alcohol that didn’t run down over your tits and splash over your pussy went down your throat, and it wasn’t long before your head began to swim. 

Still, your body felt heavy with desire, your nipples tight and desperate to be played with, your cunt pulsing and aching to be filled. It was only because Curtis seemed to be having so much fun, his friends urging him on to make you dirtier and filthier, that you didn’t break down and beg him to fuck you. 

But you couldn’t help the way your body was responding, your mouth falling slack at the teasing slide of liquid over your puckered nipples. If you arched your body just right, and spread your thighs wide enough, you could feel the trickle of beer over you clit, and it made a low moan slip from your mouth as your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure.

Curtis’s dark chuckle from above was your only warning. At that moment, he shoved the neck of his beer bottle into your mouth, pushing your lips wide and making you gag as your eyes flew open in surprise. 

“That needy little mouth is begging to be fucked, bambi,” the bar owner growled, quickly unzipping his fly and wedging the bottom of the beer between the zipper’s teeth so he could hold your head in both hands and fuck you with the glass bottle. “Take it, cock slut, fucking take it,” he grunted obscenely. 

All you could do was choke and struggle, the remainder of the beer sloshing down your throat and joining the rest in your belly. Your fingers fisted in the denim jeans encasing Curtis’s thick thighs, but you didn’t push him away. It felt good to finally have one of your holes used, even if you were being fucked by Curtis’s beer bottle instead of his cock like you’d wanted. 

Your jaw hurt by the time he pulled away, your lips swollen from being wrapped around the wide glass. Your body swayed unsteadily on your knees, arousal dripping down between your thighs and joining the mess of beer on the floor. The cheers of the crowd had faded into a constant rumble, and you smile dazedly when they urged Curtis on. 

Suddenly, a big bear paw of a hand was wrapping around your upper arm and you were being hauled to your feet. Blood rushed to your legs, your head swimming and lolling to the side as you tried to find your footing. But standing seemed impossible—and unimportant as arousal burned through you, making you whimper and whine desperately. You hoped someone would fuck you soon.

Curtis chuckled at your pathetic noises, the husky sound sending shivers down your spine as his lips grazed your ear. “You’re not too drunk to fuck, are ya, bambi?” he asked in a low, growly voice as he pressed his hips against you, his hard bulge digging into your belly. 

When you’d first walked into Everett’s Roadhouse that night and saw the state of the bar owner, you’d thought there was no way he’d be able to fuck you with how drunk he was. But the hour spent pouring so many bottles of beer over your body instead of drinking them had sobered Curtis up enough to get hard. He was stiff and twitching and pressing into you through his jeans and you wanted him to bury his cock in you.

Your dazed smile widened into a giddy grin and you tipped your head back, blinking your eyes a few times to get your vision to focus enough to see Curtis’s face. “It’s your birfday, big man,” you said, your voice more slurring than sultry, a hiccup interrupting you and making you pause. “I’m use to yours.” Your expression scrunched into a confused pout, knowing your words weren’t right, and tried again. “I’m yours to fuck.”

Curtis was laughing as he hauled you over to one of the pool tables off to the side of the bar, and tossed you down on the green felt. You lay limply on your back, staring up at your trucker’s tall friend while he glared at the guys who’d been playing a game on the table. Their grumbling quickly cut off and Curtis returned his attention to you. 

The crowd shifted to gather around the pool table while Curtis pulled out his cock, which was just as massive as the rest of him. The thick length lay against your mound, the girth covering much of the tattoo there, the tip nearly reaching your belly button. Your inner walls clenched in anticipation of taking Curtis inside you—you couldn’t wait.

“Gimme, gimme,” you mumbled, spreading your thighs wide and pushing your pussy up against the stiff, velvet-wrapped steel of Curtis’s cock. It twitched against your mound, precum dripping onto your belly and joining the mess on your skin. 

Curtis chuckled at your antics, rumbling, “Alright, bambi.” The bar owner grabbed your thighs, pushing you wide as he pulled his hips back, lining up the tip of his big cock with your entrance. Without any warning or preparation, Curtis barreled into your cunt, burying his big cock to the hilt with one thrust. 

Instantly, stinging pain and scorching pleasure cut white-hot through the core of you, overwhelming your mind and leaving your body to react however it wanted. Your head was thrown back, and your lips parted to let out a piercing scream that shattered through the noise of the dive bar.

“Fuck yeah, bambi, scream for me,” Curtis groaned, his big hands kneading your thighs, fingers digging into your plush softness hard enough to hurt. He pulled your body into his, managing to grind his cock even deeper into your pussy, wrenching another, surprised shriek from your lips.

You felt like you were being split in half, pain and pleasure ricocheting through your body fast enough to make you dizzy, your drunken mind unable to tell the difference between the two. All you knew was that it was so much, so overwhelming, and your hands reached out above your head, searching for something to cling to as your mind splintered and your body trembled from the sensation of being split open on Curtis’s cock.

Two warm hands wrapped firmly around your wrists, pinning them to the rough felt of the pool table, leaving you powerless to Curtis’s massive cock. He was rocking his hips in tiny little thrusts, the tip of his length battering against your cervix and wringing helpless little whimpers from your lips as your hazy eyes searched above you for the man pinning you down—somehow knowing before your gaze collided with the familiar blue of your trucker’s eyes that it was Ari.

His face was hovering above you, upside down as he leaned over the table to catch your gaze. The edges of Ari’s features were blurred, but you would’ve recognized your trucker even if you were blackout drunk—even if you were so intoxicated you were more unconscious than not. 

Ari’s face was like a star, familiar and steady, and you smiled happily up at him, your heart warming when you noticed the pride in his gaze. 

“You’re doing well, baby,” Ari rumbled, his features sharp and his expression hard. But deep in the blue depths of his eyes, you could see the affection you knew he felt for you. “You’re being such a good fuck toy for daddy’s friend on his birthday.”

You giggled, squirming happily on the pool table, your face upturned to your trucker, your attention completely diverted from Curtis and his cock, even as he still fucked you. You were having fun with the bar owner, but nothing and no one would ever be able to come between you and Ari. You were his, always, and he knew it.

Ari leaned down, and you thought for a moment he was going to kiss you, but you should’ve known better. Ari’s teeth nipped the soft lobe of your ear, making you moan, before he spoke words meant only for you.

“When Curtis is done, I’m gonna fuck your filthy little cunt, kiddo, so don’t pass out,” he rumbled, the twisted promise making your cunt clench around his friend’s cock. “Or do, it doesn’t matter to me.” Ari sank his teeth into the bone at the corner of your jaw, biting you hard enough to make you cry out. “I’m gonna use your holes whether you’re awake or not.”

A helpless moan slipped from your lips, your legs spreading wider instinctively at the thought of your trucker using your cunt to get off while you lay unconscious in his bed. You smiled adoringly up at Ari, blinking your eyes slowly. It took you a moment before your swimming vision could focus on Ari’s face, and when he saw he had your attention, he jerked his chin sharply at his friend, commanding you wordlessly to look back at Curtis.

You did, following your trucker’s order immediately, finding the massive bar owner watching you and Ari with a look on his face you couldn’t quite identify. The only way you could describe it was…openly gluttonous. Curtis looked like he wasn’t merely jealous of what you and Ari had, he looked like he would’ve stolen you away from his friend if there was any chance in the universe you’d look at him the same way.

But there wasn’t, and Curtis’s expression shifted as he resigned himself for having the piece of you that Ari had given him for his birthday. It would have to be enough, because even though his cock was inside you, you were still Ari’s and Ari’s alone. 

Curtis grabbed a beer off the edge of the pool table and chugged half of it. As he set it back down, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and leaned over you, his big hands grabbing your thighs again, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. 

The pain only made your arousal flare hotter and you smiled up at your trucker’s friend, murmuring, “Happy birthday, big man.”

“Thank you, bambi,” he muttered, low enough that you knew it was just for you. Then a smirk spread across Curtis’s face, his eyes lighting with filthy desire. “Now, scream if my dick’s too big for your tight little cunt, ya filthy slut.”

With that, Curtis pulled out until only the tip of his cock remained in your grasping channel, then he slammed inside you. Even with your body having adjusted to the sheer size of him, his hard, brutal thrust pulled a scream from your throat, your back arching up off the table and your wrists pulling against Ari’s hold. 

Curtis laughed loudly as the crowd cheered, the big bar owner setting a ferocious pace as he fucked you hard enough that you knew you were going to be sore for days. But you loved it. You loved the pain and the pleasure and the roaring of the crowd as Curtis fucked you in front of all his friends. 

You loved the way Ari’s hands held your arms pinned above your head, how it bared your tits to Curtis, who bent over your body to finally suck on your aching nipples. You loved the way Curtis’s beard rasped against your skin, making you shiver as your pussy clenched hard around his thick cock.

Your mind floated deliriously through the waves of pleasure and pain crashing over your body. You felt drunk on cock and alcohol, not knowing how much time passed as Curtis fucked you, but it seemed to go on forever. Your body was wound so tight for so long, you reached a point where you didn’t know if you were even going to come, or if you were simply going to hover on the edge for the rest of eternity.

“Look at me, bambi,” Curtis growled, dragging your attention back to his handsome face. 

It was only then that you realized you’d been staring up unseeingly at the ceiling of the bar, the golden and neon lights swimming through your vision as you lay limply beneath your trucker’s friend. 

Curtis’s blue eyes were dark and his mouth was twisted into a desirous snarl, his beard making him look like a feral beast as he pounded into you. 

“You’re gonna come on my cock, d’you hear me?” 

Words escaped you, your tongue simply lolling out over your bottom lip when you opened your mouth to respond. All you could manage was a frantic whine as you bobbed your head in a nod. 

“Good slut,” Curtis grunted, one of his hands falling to your lower belly, his thumb finding your clit between your slippery folds. “Come on my cock, bambi, c’mon, come on my big dick like a good little cock slut.” The rough pad of his thumb rubbed your slick, puffy clit unrelentingly, and suddenly, you were tipping over the edge.

Your mouth fell open wider and your spine arched up off the pool table as you screamed, your release crashing over you, wave after wave of pleasure hurtling you closer and closer to a darkness that wanted to claim you. But you clung to consciousness, your scream turning into a high, keening whine that could’ve been a sign of pain or pleasure. 

Your release seemed to spur on Curtis and he rutted into you, fucking your clenching pussy as he watched pleasure contort your face and body. Then, with a final grunt, Curtis pulled himself free from your body. He jerked his cock in a big fist until he spilled all over your belly, making sure none of his come fell anywhere near your pussy or the tattoo there.

Curtis’s chest heaved, his eyes distant and dazed with pleasure as he wrung every last drop of come from his cock, and you watched him with the satisfied smile of a job well done. 

When the last rope of his come had splattered, warm and sticky, against your belly, Curtis finally sucked in a deep breath and grabbed the beer handed to him from the crowd. He took a deep swig while he tucked his cock away with the other hand. 

“Thanks, Levinson,” Curtis rasped, tipping his bottle to your trucker, who just nodded. Ari’s hands were idly massaging your wrists and you melted onto the rough felt of the pool table, knowing your trucker would take care of you. Curtis turned his blue eyes on you, and he tipped his bottle to you as well. “Always a pleasure, bambi,” he said, a genuine look of appreciation on his face. 

You were about to respond, but then Curtis turned his beer over and he used the alcohol to wash his come from your skin. You squealed loudly when the cold liquid rushed over your heated skin, instinctively bringing up your legs to curl into yourself, making the crowd laugh and jeer. 

When the beer was empty and his spend was cleaned from your skin, Curtis stumbled away into the crowd, the big man being swallowed up by the well-wishers and revelers congratulating him on fucking you good. Since you knew Curtis was done with you, you looked up at Ari, twisting your hands to wrap your fingers around his arms.

“Can we go now, daddy?” you asked softly.

Ari nodded and gathered you up from the pool table, setting you down on the edge while he pulled off the flannel shirt he’d worn over a white t-shirt. He tugged it over your head and helped you get your trembling arms in the sleeves, then ducked down to brush a kiss to your lips. The events of the night were catching up to you, and you were drunk and exhausted, but you sighed into your trucker’s mouth.

“You did good tonight, baby,” Ari murmured against your lips, and your heart felt like it was suffused in the warmest sunlight. Ari’s praise made you feel lighter than air, even as he pulled away.

You smiled up at your trucker as he straightened, staring at Ari like he was your whole world, which he was. His eyes were the softest you’d ever seen them as he stared right back at you, the tiniest smile curling the corners of his mouth. 

Just then, Lloyd materialized out of the crowd and Ari finally looked away from you to exchange a loaded glance with his other oldest friend. Lloyd seemed to be much more sober than Curtis, and he helped your trucker lead you to the bathroom, where Ari cleaned you up a little and let you relieve yourself after all that you’d had to drink that night. 

Then, Lloyd cleared a path through the drunken crowd while you and Ari followed. Between the two men, no one dared to try to touch you, and you sank into Ari’s side, feeling safe with your trucker as you looped your arms loosely around his waist. He smelled familiar and wonderful and you didn’t even try to hold yourself back from burying your face in his chest even as you kept on walking.

Lloyd pushed open the door of Everett’s Roadhouse and you sighed happily when the cool night air brushed against your heated, still slightly sticky cheeks. Gravel crunched beneath the soles of your sandals, and you blinked your eyes in the darkness until they focused enough to see Ari’s big, black truck looming in packed parking lot surrounded by other long-haul rigs.

“Drysdale’s gonna have a lot of business tonight after that show your girl put on,” Lloyd commented, casting his gaze across the expanse between Everett’s Roadhouse and Diesel Dolls, the strip club on the other side of the parking lot. Lloyd snorted and adjusted the front of his pants, and it was only then that you noticed the sizable bulge there. “Including me,” he muttered.

Your hazy thoughts strayed to the strip club, and you couldn’t help but imagine Lloyd getting a lap dance from a beautiful stripper. The tattoo artist sitting back on a plush couch while a gorgeous woman gyrated on his lap, his fingers twitching to grab her and touch her and defile her the way you knew Lloyd liked.

You didn’t even think to picture yourself as the stripper. Instead, in this little fantasy, you were sitting on Ari’s lap, your trucker’s cock buried in your cunt. Maybe he’d even let you get your own lap dance from Lloyd’s stripper, your body pressed between Ari’s and the other woman…

Your body lurched forward and if it wasn’t for Ari’s firm grip on your waist, you would’ve gone sprawling across the parking lot. For the rest of the walk to Ari’s rig, you tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other and not let your mind wander so you wouldn’t end up feeling more sore than you already were. 

When the three of you came to a stop beside the driver’s side door of Ari’s truck, Lloyd let his eyes slide to you before moving quickly to your trucker. 

“I hope you had a similar gift in mind for my birthday, Levinson,” Lloyd said with his usual oily charm, his mouth curling into a smirk beneath his well-groomed mustache. 

“We’ll see,” Ari rumbled, but his tone was good-natured. You couldn’t help the way your body clenched at the salacious, and somewhat victorious smile Lloyd shot your way.

But the events of the night were weighing heavily on your shoulders, exhaustion creeping into your bones, and you didn’t have the brainpower to wonder what Lloyd might do with you if you were gifted to him on his birthday. Even if you knew you’d have just as much fun with Ari’s other friend as you’d had with Curtis.

“Daddy,” you whined softly, burying your face against Ari’s beefy chest. His hand squeezed your hip possessively and he said his goodbyes to Lloyd, then helped you into the truck, making sure he was the only one who could see the way your pussy flashed as you climbed into the cab.

Ari followed you up and locked the door behind him while you crawled into the cot in the back, laying down on top of his soft blankets despite the sticky residue still clinging to most of your body. Ari pulled off his t-shirt and kicked off his pants, then joined you in the narrow bed. 

Your body melted at the familiar comfort of his weight behind you, and you began to relax as sleep tugged at the edges of your awareness. But when Ari’s cock pressed hot and hard against your bare ass, you remembered his promise from inside the bar, how he said he was going to fuck you whether you were awake or not. You moaned softly while he bunched up the flannel shirt you still wore around your waist. 

Your face was already pressing into the soft pillow on Ari’s bed, your eyes closed, but you arched your back and pushed your ass against Ari’s hard length, inviting him to slide inside your slick cunt. You were sore from Curtis’s fucking, but wet again for your trucker. You were always wet for him, your body craving the feeling of his cock filling you up in the perfect way that only he could. 

“Ya gonna stay awake for me while I use your messy cunt, cock whore?” Ari rumbled into the back of your neck. The flat of his tongue swiped up the column of your throat, wringing a soft whine from you as he licked the beer from your skin. It felt so good, sending shivers down your spine and raising goosebumps all over your body. “Or did my friend wear you out?”

All you could manage was an unintelligible mumble, the sound muffled by the pillow crushed beneath your face, as sleep pushed more insistently into the border of your wakefulness. Ari’s deep chuckle rumbled against your spine, making you even wetter for your filthy, perfect trucker.

“Go to sleep, kiddo,” Ari murmured in your ear, his hand sliding over your hip to press against your lower belly, his fingertips grazing the tattoo that was branded into the skin of your mound, just above your pussy. His touch moved your body slightly, arching you enough for the head of his cock to find the slit of your cunt. “Let daddy use your tight little hole while you get some rest.” 

Ari slid inside your pussy slowly, pressing the air from your lungs as he took his time impaling you on his cock. Your aching inner walls clenched around him desperately, pain and pleasure flaring to life and zinging through your exhausted limbs. A rough, greedy grunt rumbled in Ari’s chest, the sound softening into a warm, satisfied groan once he was fully seated inside you.

It hurt a little to be stretched out around Ari’s cock so soon after taking Curtis’s pounding, but when your trucker wrapped his arms around you, holding you cocooned in the cage of his broad chest while he rocked his hips almost gently against your ass, you felt yourself melting into him. Ari’s lips and tongue worked against your neck, licking sticky beer from your skin, his beard deliciously familiar while he set an almost soothing pace as he fucked you.

Despite the soreness between your thighs, and the tiny zings of pleasure thrumming through your body from Ari’s cock rocking into you, your exhaustion was too great and it wasn’t long before you were slipping into the warm comfort of sleep. That night in Ari’s truck, you fell asleep with a blissed out, cock drunk smile on your face, happy as could be to be in your trucker’s arms.

You may have spent much of the night as a gift for the bar owner your trucker called a friend, and you were glad you could be part of making Curtis’s birthday special, but you would always belong to Ari. And you would always end your nights in his arms, because that was where you wanted to be and where you belonged—with your trucker, Ari Levinson.

trucker king masterlist ● trucker au masterlist

[ellethespaceunicorn]

✍🏾LAST LINE TAG GAME ✨

The rules: in a post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as you have words (or what feels right to you 👍🏾)

Thank you my sweet baby @slippinninque for the tag. I love these so much.

You feel heat rise to your cheeks and praise the melanin gods that blessed you with the ability to hide your blushing. Lloyd finishes buckling your heel then rose to his full height. Holding your chin with his thumb and forefinger, he lays a sweet kiss upon your lips before nuzzling his nose with yours. 

“After you, Duchess,” he croons, stepping out of the way and letting you walk ahead of him. You already know that he just wants to watch your hips sway while you walk in front of him, but damn if you don’t love how much he covets your body. And if you put a little extra oomph in your step, he wasn’t mad about it.

Yes, I am still working on an ask from a sweet nonnie who wanted some Lloyd action. I am feeling inspired today and am actually hoping to finish it soon. I'm still unsure as to if this story will include smut. But, like, it's Lloyd. And I stay on that man's dick so much.... But it's also like...soft!dark!Lloyd who loves affection and also will cut anyone who touches his Duchess.

Anywho, I got six sentences so I am gonna tag six people: @blackwood4stucky @navybrat817 @targaryenvampireslayer @thezombieprostitute @brandycranby

@winter2112rose

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Just one kiss | Lloyd Hansen

// Pairing //

-> DrugDealer!Lloyd Hansen x Innocent!Virgin!Female!Reader

// Summary //

-> Your best friend — Ransom Drysdale — asks you to buy special pills for him. You don’t know what he means and you didn’t know that the dealer isn’t like Ransom described the man.

// Wordcount //

-> 4.586 Words

// Warnings // Explicit Content

-> 18+, Minors DNI, dark content, Ransom is a dick, innocent!Reader (really innocent!), talking about drugs, manipulation, non/dub-con, Lloyd being Lloyd, blackmail, innocence kink, daddy kink, handjob, oral (male!receiving), cumming on the face, cum play, finger sucking, degrading, praises

// Authors Note //

-> I want to thank @bucks-babe for all those comments and for proofreading.

-> Written for the “Cum Together: A Community Revival Extravaganza” Event hosted by @labella420 and @stargazingfangirl18.

Prompt: Blackmail + Cum play + “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it.”

// Masterlist | Lloyd Hansen Masterlist //

     “Come one, please! He is so nice and I just ask you for that favor. Best friends do that for their best friends, princess,” Ransom says, pouting slightly when you still look unsure about his ask.

     You play with your fingers, sliding them over the short pink skirt you’re wearing because your best friend asked you to do so. Aren’t you already a good best friend because you always wear what Ransom asks you to wear?

     “Ransom, I—I don’t know. I’ve never bought something from him. And m—my parents always say to not get too close to him — to Lloyd Hansen,” you say, his name only a whisper afraid that someone could hear you.

     “Princess, I wouldn’t ask when it wouldn’t really mean something to me,” he says, his hand finds its place on your bare thigh and you shiver slightly under his soft touch. “I will give you the money, please.”

     “Why don’t you go there yourself?” You ask, looking at him suspiciously. He chuckles, his fingers dig into your soft skin and you hiss softly about his sudden roughness.

     “Lloyd and I, uhm, we had some differences in the past and he told me to piss off,” Ransom confesses, scratching the back of his neck.

     It wasn't a lie, Lloyd doesn’t really like Ransom but the actual reason he wants you to go there is because sweet, innocent girls like you get better offers than Ransom would get.

     “Don’t you love me, princess?” Your best friend asks, his smile fades away and he tilts his head down, avoiding your gaze. He also removes his hand from your thigh, causing your heart to ache. You don’t like to offend your best friend, especially not to make him sad just because of something he asks you to buy.

     “I do love you, Ran,” you mumble, moving closer to capture his cheeks with your hands. You lift his head so he has to look into your eyes and then you kiss his nose, smirking when he does. “I will buy it for you, what do you want me to buy?”

     “Some special pills. Nothing big, just tell him that you want a small bag of special pills, then Lloyd knows what you ask for, princess,” Ransom says, his grin back on his lips. You nod, letting go of his cheeks and crawl into his lap, cuddling into him, while he wraps his arms around your small body and pulls you closer.

     You’re such a good girl for him, he loves how innocent you are — his sweet girl would do everything he asks for when he just plays the right cards. He loves it, his dick loves your innocence not less. It’s growing and throbbing in his pants while you cuddle you cuddle yourself into his tall, muscular body.

     “Ran! You forgot your keys in your pocket!” You complain, rolling your eyes playfully. Ransom laughs, pulling you even closer and leans down to your ear.

     “That’s not my key, princess. That’s my cock,” he mumbles, causing your eyes to widen and shift slightly. No matter where you try to sit you have his cock point into your ass or back.

     Every slight movement on his lap makes Ransom groan and his dick growing even more. “Why isn’t it moving to the side?”

     Fuck! Your innocence makes him go crazy and he just wants to destroy your little pussy, wants to fill you with his cum and make you come and scream over his cock over and over again. Tears would stream down your cheeks but you would beg for more and he would gladly give it to you, fucking you until you’re nothing but a whimpering mess underneath him.

     “Don’t you know what that is? My cock.” He asks, raising his eyebrow when you shake your head ashamed. Ransom smirks even wider, his fingers draw small circles on your back, grinning you over his hard cock. “I will explain it to you at some point but first you go to Lloyd and buy what I asked you to buy.”

     Ransom brought you to Lloyd’s house, even when it’s more like a mansion. A cold shiver runs along your spine when Ransom lets you step out of the car, hurrying you to finally drive to a park slot on the side.

     “What happened between you and Lloyd actually, why doesn't he want you to buy something?” You ask innocently while you don’t make a move to get out of the car.

     Sweat is running his face down when he looks in all directions. Would Lloyd see him near his mansion he would probably torture him until he begs for forgiveness. “I— uhm. I accidentally shot him in his ass.”

     You giggle, then you get out of the car and wave with a soft smile at Ransom before you make your way along the path to the big building. Your hands start to sweat and you press them against the skirt as an attempt to cover more of your bare legs.

     Lloyd watches you already from the window, his tongue slides over his lips, while he smirks. So innocent. He groans quietly, turning around to make his way to a chair in the middle of the room. He fucking loves to see those girls all sweet standing there and asking him nicely and cute for some special pills — going to parties with them but you? You look so different, so innocent, so untouched.

     His dick is growing when he’s deepening his thoughts about what he could do with you, letting you twirl for him, lifting your skirt. He wants to see you, all of you — you’re so different to all these other girls.

     But his thoughts get interrupted when someone is knocking at the door, when he growls a low ‘yes’ you open the door and look at him. His hair is slicked back, mustache and white pants with a shirt — exactly how everyone describes him. He smirks at you, leaning back in his chair, his legs spread open and his hands resting on his thighs.

     “Come in, little one,” he tells you. His eyes are roaming over your body and you want to make yourself even smaller. With a short movement you close the door behind you and walk further toward him.

     “H—Hi,” you mumble, looking down, your shoes suddenly the most interesting thing you have ever seen. The creaking noise of the chair makes your eyes widen, hearing him walking closer to you, your body tenses and a quiet whimper leaves your lips.

      “What can I do for such a sweet girl like you?” He sounds nice, not like your parents told you. His hand grasps your chin, tilting your head back so you have to look into his eyes, he is grinning down at you, while he leans closer and there are only inches between your faces.

     “I— My best friend — Ransom. H—He wants me to buy some special pills for him,” you explain, body trembling under the intense gaze of the older man. Lloyd smirks, his hands finding their way to your hips and he pulls you flat against his muscular chest.

     “Mhm, Ransom?” He asks, knowing exactly who he is. When you nod, his grin widens and he pulls you with him closer to the chair. You’re too focused not to just turn around and run out of the building so you don’t really realize that Lloyd leads you to the chair where he lets himself fall down and holds you still between his thick, muscular thighs. “Are you his girl, little one?”

     “N—No, he is my best friend,” you mumble, looking at your hands. Even though Lloyds hands are warm and his grip is firm, you still feel uncomfortable there. The building is so big, there aren’t many people you have seen and the owner of that mansion is holding you just inches away from him by your hips.

     “You’re his best friend, know your parents. Strict ones, do they know that their pretty girl is visiting me here? Do your parents know you’re here, little one?” He asks, and you shake your head slowly.

     Your parents would never allow you to visit Lloyd Hansen, he is famous — famous for drugs and illegal things. “Please, don’t tell them. You won’t tell them, right?”

     “Mhm— but you need to give me something for that then, can you do this?” His voice is soft and the smile on his face widens. He pulls you onto his thigh, moving your hips slowly forward and backward before he stops and lifts his one hand to grasp your chin once again. He tilts your head up, looking straight into your eyes and you feel like he can look into your soul.

     “Do you want more money?” You ask, so innocently that his dick is hurting while it presses against the fabric of his white pants.

     “No, can you give me something else?” He asks, fingers digging into your waist while he holds your chin still with his other hand to look into your eyes. His cock twitches when you whimper softly, thinking about something you could offer him.

    “W—What do you want to have?” His grin widens, when it's even possible. He just waited for you to ask that unless you tell him what he wants to hear. But since you’re just as innocent as you look he is glad you asked him what he would like to have so he won’t tell your parents about your little visit in the Hansen mansion.

     “Kiss me,” he mumbles, leaning back while he lets go of your chin and places that hand on your waist as well. Your eyes widen and you whimper, shaking your head.

     “Please, I—I never kissed someone, not even sure how that works. C—Can I just give you more money?” You try but he just ignores your attempts to convince him to give him something else.

     “Little one, I’m rich. I don’t need what you offer me. You have two opportunities. First; you give me what I want. Second; I take what I want,” he explains, grinding you on his thigh. A tingling feeling erupts between your legs and you try to press them together causing Lloyd to chuckle darkly. “I always get what I want, pretty girl. And look how needy you are, clenching your tights like a desperate slut.”

     “I’m not a slut!” You raise your eyebrow until his grip tightens and you immediately blush. You don’t want to upset him, scared of him. Your body still trembles slightly but the pressure between your legs grows especially when he just holds you, instead of grinding you on his thigh to give you some relief.

     “I know, you’re a pretty innocent girl.” He sits up, straight and your lips are suddenly so close that you can feel his warm breath on your skin. Lloyd groans when you move closer against him, your pussy rubbing over his hard cock and your eyes widen.

     “I—Is that also your cock? R—Ransoms was hard too earlier,” you tell him, looking down where you just feel his hard bulge pressing against you. A low chuckle leaves his lips, causing you to look into his eyes again.

     “That’s my cock, when you kiss me already you can see it. Do you want to see it?” You nod slightly, and he feels his cock twitch once again. Your innocence makes him go crazy, you’re on his lap, willing to kiss him so he won’t tell your parents that you are visiting him. And willing so you can see his throbbing cock.

     Even when you would have said no, he already knew the kiss isn’t everything he wants from you. When such a sweet and innocent girl walks into his mansion and makes his cock painfully hard and throbbing he will definitely use that to fuck you or at least have you suck off his cock.

     You lean slightly forward, you don’t know why but something changes inside of you and you feel comfortable around Lloyd and you really want to see his cock since Ransom wasn’t explaining it to you. So you press your lips softly against his, just a moment before you pull back and giggle softly.

         “Your mustache tickles, Mr. Hansen,” you say, reaching out your hand to slide your fingers over his mustache. You're so perfect for him, so innocent but still so confident when you feel comfortable. He is sure he won’t let you go that easy; you’re his now — his little one, Lloyd's pretty girl.

     “Was that a kiss, little one? Give Daddy a real kiss,” he asks, raising his eyebrow when you nod slowly. He laughs, capturing your cheeks with his hands and pulling you closer, his lips pressing on yours with such force that you gasp. You part your lips slightly, and Lloyd uses the moment to slip his tongue into your mouth, causing you to moan.

     You press him by his chest away, his cheeks heating up, and you look down at your lap. “I’m sorry, I—I didn’t want to moan.”

     “Ahh, pretty girl. Let me hear you moan again, yeah?” Before you can answer, he presses his lips against yours once again. His hands slide to your back and lower down until he grabs your ass, squeezing harshly and causing another moan to leave your lips.

     When he lets you pull away, you breathe heavily, your hands resting on his muscular chest while you look into his eyes. They are a little darker than before, filled with an emotion you have seen in Ransom's eyes sometimes — mostly when his hand slid up your leg underneath your skirt until you moved away from your best friend with a questioning look.

    Lloyd's hands are still capturing your cheeks. He smirks at you, his eyes roaming down your body to your chest, biting his lip before his gaze slides lower to your short skirt. “Do your parents know that you look like a little desperate slut with such short skirts?” 

     “N—No, Ransom asked me to wear it for him. Don’t you like it?” Lloyd chuckles, one hand making its way to your skirt, and he slips it underneath the fabric, stroking the soft skin of your thigh. He groans, his fingers moving closer to your panties, but you grasp his arm just before his fingertip is touching your pussy.

     “It looks pretty, little one. Now get up so I can show you my cock. What do you think?” He asks softly before pushing you off his lap. You immediately stand up and wait in front of him while he unbuckles his belt and lets his white pants fall down his thick, muscular thighs.

     In his boxers is a big bulge, and you guess that’s what he meant. What you didn’t think of was that he was going to push the fabric down as well. His weeping cock slaps against his stomach; the tip is red, and a vein is running along the underside of his huge length.

     “You can touch it, pretty girl.” You shake your head, just looking at his length, before you look him in the eyes again. “Do you want me to tell your parents that you’re going out in such a slutty outfit that you were sitting on my lap and kissing me?”

     “P—Please, don't tell them,” you say quietly, a small pout on your lips. Lloyd chuckles, leaning forward to kiss your lips, kissing the pout softly away. Then he places his pants between the two on the ground before he pushes you by your shoulders down until you’re on your knees, looking up at him with your innocent gaze.

     “Take it in your hand. Wrap your little fingers around Daddy's huge cock. Can you do that?” He asks so softly that you nod and lift your arms, placing one on his thick thigh.

      “But you’re not my daddy, Mr. Hansen,” you mumble, looking at him with your innocent and now slightly confused gaze.

     “I’m your daddy now, little one. I take care of you, don’t I?” When you slightly nod he grins wide and points at his hard, leaking cock. You bring your other hand to his cock and wrap your fingers around his hard cock.

     Lloyd groans, throwing his head back when your soft skin touches his cock. He then looks back down at you, waiting for you to move your hand, but you're just sitting there and staring at his cock in your hand. His dick twitches in your hand, more pre-cum leaking down his red tip when he thinks about everything he could do with you — taking your virginity and making you his — Lloyds Hansen’s pretty girl.

    “Move your hand, little one.” You look up; your eyes widen when he gives you more instructions. You thought he would let you go after you kissed him, so why does he want you to move your hand around his cock?

     “But you said only a kiss,” you mumble, your eyes watering — your emotions are overwhelming; you feel so embarrassed, but at the time, you don’t want Lloyd to tell your parents that you’re here. And his cock feels not bad in your hand either. He places his hand around yours, grip tightens while he moves your hand up and down his thick length.

     “Good girl,” Lloyd praises, his hand tightening even more around yours and his cock, while he picks up the pace. He groans, his hips thrusting up when you move your hand at a slow pace up and down his cock. “Doin’ so well, little on. Now let's try something else: open your mouth and take my dick into your mouth.

    “No, Mr. Hansen, please. I’ve never done that before; I—I don’t think I wanna do that,” you say, quietly and not looking up. Your grip around his cock loosens, and you place both of your hands on your thighs.

    “You don’t want to?” He asks, his voice dangerously sweet, and you shiver lightly. When you shake your head, he grasps your hair, tugging harshly at it and making you look at him. “I don't care; you're gonna suck my cock, or I will tell your parents that you begged me to fuck you, want that? Want your parents to know that you’re nothing but a little whore?”

     You don't really listen to him; your thoughts are running wild, and tears are building in your eyes, making their way slowly down your cheeks. Lloyd wipes his thumb over your cheeks to wipe the tears away; they just turn him on even more — he didn't know you could turn him on even more, but you do. His other hand is still tugging painfully at your hair.

    “Then be a good girl and do what Daddy asks for. Now take it in your mouth, or I will make you take it,” he groans, waiting a moment for you to move, but you just sit there, quietly crying and staring at his cock. Lloyd sighs, pushing your head closer to his cock and wrapping his own hand around his base. He brings his cock to your lips, smearing his pre-cum over them before he pushes his tip between your lips.

     “Come on, pretty girl,” he says, raising one of his eyebrows before he taps his hand softly on your cheek until you open your mouth wider and he is able to push his cock into your mouth.

    Lloyd doesn’t give you much time before he shoves his cock down your throat. You immediately gag around his length, your fingers digging into his thick thighs while he holds you in place for a moment. Your eyes water, and you try to pull away, but the older man’s grin is too tight for you to move away.

     “Fuck, pretty mouth feeling so good,” he growls, pulling out of you and giving you a moment to inhale deeply.

     “Please, don’t; it’s so big,” you whimper, trying to push him away from you. But at your next attempt to say something, he shoves his huge length into your mouth and down your throat again. Your teeth scratch along his soft skin, causing him to buck his hips forward.

     He pulls you off his cock, leaning forward until his face is next to yours. Lloyd is biting into your earlobe, causing you to yelp. “Open your mouth wider, like the good slut you are for me.”

     “B—But your cock is so big, Daddy,” you whimper, tears falling down your cheeks. When he pulls you back and smirks at you, causing you to be slightly scared — he looks so soft and at the same time something dark is glistening in his eyes and expression.

     “You will get used to it. Fuck— should keep you just for me; what do you think, little one?” He asks, chuckling when you try to shake your head. You open your mouth wider when he presses the tip of his cock against your lips. Lloyd shoves his cock into your mouth, smirking proudly when your teeth aren’t scratching against his huge dick. You’re once again gagging around his length; the tears are falling down your cheeks, and saliva is dripping down your mouth. “Daddy told you he gets what he wants. And when he wants to keep you, then he will! So be good and suck my dick and breathe through your nose.”

     Your nails dig almost painfully into the skin of his thigh, grounding yourself. When you breathe through your nose like he told you, you don’t gag that much around his cock anymore. He thrusts every now and then his hips, resting his dick in your mouth before he pulls out to give you a moment to breathe deeply.

     You look with such an innocent gaze at Lloyd that he feels like he has to come immediately. Your saliva drips down, landing on your thighs, while his whole cock is covered in it as well. Lloyd growls, fucking your mouth harshly, your tongue licking the underside of his cock, while you swallow his length down your throat — you’re the best and sweetest girl he could have imagined when you walked into his mansion earlier.

      He looks down at you, meeting your innocent eyes. You look adorable with his cock down your throat. “Taking my cock like the good girl you are for me, huh?”

     After a few more thrusts, he pushes out, and you look at him, confused. Maybe you did something wrong? “Did I do something wrong? Didn’t it feel good?”

   Suddenly, you just want to make him feel good; you want him to praise you — calling you his good girl, and give him what he is asking for.

     “You did so well for me, swallowing my cock like a good girl. But I wanna come all over your face — want to paint your face with my cum,” he tells you, smirking when you look even more confused. “Let Daddy take care of it."

     You nod, looking at his length, which is covered in your saliva when he wraps his hand around it. He then moves his hand at a steady pace, his hand wiping over his tip. It looks hot when he does that, panting and fucking his hand, his cock twitching, and he almost hits your face when he thrusts forward.

      His lips are parted, and the veins on his arm are poking out while he looks at you, groaning loudly. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out!”

      You do as he says and stick out your tongue. He grins at you, jerking himself off over your tongue. With a loud growl and a harsh thrust into his hand, he comes all over your face. His cum shoots out of his red tip, landing on your tongue and all over your face, while he fucks himself through the orgasm.

     “Looking so sexy with my cum all over your pretty face, pretty girl,” he says, letting go of his cock and reaching out to graze his fingers with his cum. He then brings them to your mouth and pushes them between your lips. “Lick them clean.”

     You twirl your tongue around his fingers, cleaning his fingers and tasting his salty cum. You hum satisfied, addicted to his taste.

     “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it,” he says, fingers still in your mouth, pushing your tongue down. He then removes them and grazes them in his cum once again, this time he licks then cleans himself, tongue curling around his digits. His other hand grasps your chin, his thumb pushing into your mouth and you immediately suck at it. “So good for Daddy, huh? I should give you a reward, don’t you think?”

     Your eyes widen and you nod, not exactly knowing what he means, but it doesn’t sound bad. And even though he can be a bit rough sometimes, he is still really nice and sweet with you.

     “Get up, so I can pick you up and we can continue in my bedroom,” he says softly, and you immediately obey. When you stand in front of him, he leans down, pressing his lips softly against yours before he picks you up. His hands rest underneath your ass, squeezing your cheeks while he walks out of the room.

     “B—But Ransom is waiting for me outside in the car,” you mumble, pulling away from Lloyd to look into his beautiful blue eyes. You haven’t recognized the bit of green in them, but it looks beautiful, and you get lost in them for a moment.

     Lloyd smirks. One of his hands lets go of you, but you hold yourself with your legs wrapped around his waist. He looks for his phone, which is placed on a small shelf. He takes it and unlocks it. Lloyd taps a few times on his phone before you hear the familiar sound when you call someone.

     “Princess?” Ransom's voice comes through the loudspeaker. You giggle, placing your head on his shoulder while you wrap your arms around his neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent.

     “Not exactly, but she is here. She is fine. Calm down. I will take care of my pretty girl, won’t I, little one?” Lloyd says, chuckling, before he squeezes your ass once again. You giggle, making Ransom gasp. “Brought me such a sweet and innocent girl; I guess I will keep her here. Make her my Mrs. Hansen.”

     Before Ransom can say something, Lloyd hangs up and places his phone on the nightstand next to his bed. You haven’t noticed that you’re already in his room, but you smirk when he places you on his bed, kissing your lips before he moves down to your neck. He is sucking and biting softly on your sensitive skin.

     “Now let’s get you out of your clothes and show Daddy your pretty body, all mine. Understand, you’re mine, pretty girl,” he says, looking at you. You pull him closer, pressing your lips against his, and let his tongue explore your mouth while his hands roam over your body, causing a tingling in your pussy. He grins, already thinking about the way he will claim you and make you his — his pretty girl.

     He really likes you, falling slowly for you — your sweetness and innocence steal his heart from him, and he gladly gives it to you. Even though he isn’t used to take care of someone he just fucked but he gladly takes care of his pretty girl.

// Taglist //

@kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Heart Still Beating - 3 | Lloyd

Character: Lloyd Hansen x Female!Reader

Summary: After the heart transplant, Lloyd, the heartless killer, started to feel something—something unexpected and powerful that was tied to the fiancé of the heart’s donor.

Words Count : 2916

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , End

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Your legs buckled, vision swimming, but Lloyd was there, steadying you before you collapsed completely.

“They won’t stop until they get this heart.” His gaze hardened, jaw set in determination. “I’ll get rid of them.” He turned to leave, but suddenly his expression twisted in pain. “Urgh…” His hand went to his chest, but as he glanced back at you, the pain dulled, fading.

With a deep breath, he started walking again, only for the pain to slam back into him, sharper this time. Grimacing, he gritted his teeth and forced himself down the hall, each step more agonizing than the last.

Finally, he stumbled back toward you, grabbing your hand without a word. “Stay here. I want to test something.”

Lloyd walked downstairs, testing his distance. At first, his chest felt fine. But the moment he closed a door behind him, the pain flared again, searing and relentless. “Damn it!” he roared, frustration boiling over as he stomped the ground.

The sound drew you and Carmichael out, finding Lloyd with a look of pure aggravation. His gaze shifted to you. “Your fiancé,” he spat, “is such a damn coward. I can’t get more than ten feet from you without this pain kicking in.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, brows knitting in confusion.

“Every time I get further than ten feet from you, it’s like someone’s crushing my chest. How am I supposed to work like this?” His hands gestured in irritation. “I can’t drag you around while I’m out there hunting down these bastards!”

You stiffened. He was absolutely right—there was no way you’d risk following him into that world, putting yourself and your child in danger.

Carmichael, who had been silent, finally spoke up. “What if… you kept her voice with you?”

Lloyd paused, thinking.

“If she keeps talking, it might feel like she’s still beside you, close enough to stop the pain,” Carmichael suggested.

Moments later, you and Lloyd each wore an earpiece. “Can you hear me?” you asked, your voice soft but clear.

Lloyd gave a quick nod, jaw set with determination. “I’ll try leaving the building now.” He pushed himself to walk forward, putting distance between you. But the instant he stepped outside, he sank to his knees, pain tearing through him.

“Lloyd!” Your voice came through the earpiece, urgent, and in a heartbeat, the pain dissolved.

He exhaled, shaky but relieved. “Damn,” he muttered to himself, glancing down at his chest. “It’s working.” He cleared his throat. “Y/N?”

“Yes?” Your voice was a soothing lifeline.

“Keep talking,” he said quietly. “I’m going to finish this, for Justin.”

A swell of gratitude warmed your voice. “Thank you, Lloyd.” You hesitated, then added, “And… please, stay alive.”

He smirked faintly, glancing down. “I’ll protect this,” he murmured, pointing at his chest, a mix of bitterness and resolve in his eyes. “And I’ll protect you.”

💘💘💘💘

The nightclub pulsed with heavy bass, the walls vibrating under the relentless beat of the music. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, booze, and something darker—this was no ordinary club. This was Mr. Cicadas’ den, the very heart of his empire.

Two women perched on Lloyd's thighs, draped over him like jewels. He leaned back, his fingers absently tracing patterns along the rim of his glass as he casually mentioned their boss. “Mr. Cicadas,” he said with a smirk. One of the girls giggled as he raised a face mask to his mouth.

“Going a little kinky?” one of them teased, her smile playful.

Lloyd’s smirk deepened as he produced a small canister. The faint hiss of gas filled the air, making the women leap to their feet, alarm flaring in their eyes. “What… what is that?”

“You want crazy?” Lloyd growled, eyes dark with intent. “I’ll show you crazy.”

With a twist of the valve, a cloud of gas spilled into the air, blanketing the room. The initial effect was breathlessness, confusion. Then came the screams. In seconds, chaos erupted as patrons stumbled over one another, eyes wild and hallucinating, their minds twisted by the haze.

The music was cut off in a jarring silence as armed men surrounded Lloyd, their expressions shifting from shock to rage. One of them, his voice laced with venom, barked, “Who the hell are you?”

Lloyd smirked, eyes gleaming with cold malice. “I’m here for your boss.”

With a swift, almost casual movement, he struck the nearest man, sending him crashing into a table. In an instant, the scene exploded into a brutal fight. The mafiosos lunged at him, but Lloyd moved like a shadow, dodging fists and throwing precise, merciless punches that left them sprawled across the floor.

Each swing, every strike, was sharp, calculated. Lloyd’s face was a mask of concentration as he dispatched his opponents with ruthless efficiency. The men’s grunts of pain and anger filled the air, blending into the chaotic echoes of broken glass and splintering wood.

Meanwhile, you flinched at the sounds over the earpiece—cries of pain, the heavy thuds of bodies hitting the ground. You looked at Carmichael, grimacing. “Could you turn down the volume?”

"You know, Lloyd’s not exactly your average man. His world… it’s dark, ruthless." Carmichael’s voice was steady, but there was a hint of caution. "He’s deep in the underworld. Takes on jobs nobody else will touch—cleaning up the messes of the worst people out there, dealing with gangsters, mafias, corrupt politicians. To him, the surface world we live in? It’s like a playground."

You looked up, meeting his gaze, the weight of his words settling in. “I always thought there was something… off about him. But I didn’t realize it was like this.”

Carmichael gave a small nod. “Few people do. Lloyd’s work is invisible to most, but that’s how he survives. It’s how he keeps people in check. This man—he’s seen and done things most of us couldn’t imagine. If he’s in your life, it’s because he’s chosen to be. And you… you’re different to him.”

A lump formed in your throat. His world was so distant, so violent, so entirely at odds with everything you’d ever known. There was no denying it—your life was simple in comparison. You had no place in his brutal reality. Yet, as your thoughts drifted to Justin, to the senseless tragedy of his death, you knew that Lloyd might be the only person capable of delivering the justice Justin deserved.

You exhaled, steadying yourself. “Lloyd’s the only one who can do this, isn’t he?”

Carmichael's expression softened, a hint of understanding in his eyes. “He’s already made it personal. For Lloyd, this is more than just a job now. This is about making things right—however he defines it.”

Just then, Lloyd’s voice crackled through. “I know where he is.”

💘💘💘💘

You and Lloyd slipped into the hospital under the cover of night, the cold sterility of the VVIP ward a stark contrast to the club’s chaotic energy. Inside, the quiet hum of machines and the sharp scent of antiseptic filled the air. As you entered the private room, your eyes fell on a frail, thin man lying on the bed, his body riddled with tubes.

The man’s eyes darted to you both, wide with terror as he recognized the intent in your gaze. He struggled to sit up, hands raised in a pitiful attempt to shield himself. His voice trembled, desperate. “Please… I’ll give you anything. Money… as much as you want. Just… just let me live. I’ll make it worth your while.” His words spilled out in a frantic plea.

You stared down at him, memories of Justin flooding back with bitter intensity. “No amount of money could erase what you’ve done.” You looked at Lloyd, nodding.

Lloyd’s lips curved into a cold, satisfied smirk. He raised his gun, fixing his steely gaze on the trembling man. ��With pleasure.”

In one swift motion, he pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed through the room, and Mr. Cicadas fell back, lifeless, a single bullet through his heart—the same heart he’d so ruthlessly sought.

💘💘💘💘

As the two of you walked down the empty hospital corridor, a profound quiet settled around you. For the first time, a strange sense of peace replaced the heavy anger you had both carried. The man who had taken so much was finally gone, and with that final act of justice, something shifted in the silence between you and Lloyd. Gratitude stirred within you, and finally, you broke the silence.

“Thank you,” you murmured softly, your voice filled with sincerity.

Lloyd stopped mid-step, glancing at you with a mixture of surprise and unease. Gratitude wasn’t something he often encountered in his line of work, let alone after finishing a mission like this. It took him a moment, but he offered a faint, almost hesitant nod.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, shrugging as if trying to shake off the weight of the moment. “I got something out of it, too. This heart… it's keeping me alive.”

You met his gaze, feeling a depth in his words that went beyond the physical. Justin’s heart had become part of Lloyd, giving him a second chance at life, and maybe, in a way, it had brought him closer to someone who understood what that gift meant. “It’s more than just the heart, though, isn’t it?” you said softly. “You didn’t have to help me. You could have moved on, done what you always do. But you didn’t.”

Lloyd’s gaze hardened slightly, but not in his usual defensive way. It was almost as if he was trying to mask something softer beneath. “I’m not used to getting thanked. Especially for things like this,” he admitted, his tone quieter, almost vulnerable. “And honestly, I didn’t think it’d feel… different.”

You nodded, understanding more than you’d expected. “Maybe it’s strange to say, but I’m glad it was you who received his heart. I don’t think anyone else would’ve understood what it meant to finish this… to make things right for him.”

For the first time, a genuine, almost bashful smile tugged at Lloyd’s lips. “Well,” he murmured, glancing away as if to gather himself. “I guess I’m not used to having… a purpose, outside of the usual work. But if it helps, I don’t mind sticking around a bit. This heart’s got a few more things left to finish.”

A warmth spread between you, unspoken but understood. You walked side by side, each step building a fragile but real trust, a bond forged by the life that connected you both.

And in that quiet understanding, you felt something new—a partnership, unexpected yet undeniable.

💘💘💘💘

Three months had passed since that fateful day, and the air felt different now. As you lay in the hospital room, exhaustion weighed heavy on your eyelids, yet there was a lightness in your heart that made you feel almost weightless. You glanced down at the tiny bundle cradled in your arms. Luna. The name felt perfect, a gentle reminder of the new beginnings even amidst the shadows of the past.

A nurse approached, her smile soft and reassuring as she gently placed Luna into your arms. The moment you held her close, the weight of loss surged anew—Justin should have been here to see her, to cherish her, to hold her just as you were now. But amid that ache was the undeniable warmth of a new blessing, a life that brought with it hope and love.

Luna’s soft face scrunched up as she let out a wail, filling the room with her cries. You rocked her gently, murmuring soothing words, but nothing seemed to calm her little soul. Your heart ached for her, for the world she had entered, one devoid of her father’s embrace.

Just then, the door swung open, and in stepped Lloyd, a striking figure against the sterile backdrop of the hospital. He carried a vibrant bouquet of flowers and a colorful balloon, a jarring contrast to the hospital’s muted tones. The moment he saw you with Luna, his breath caught in his throat, and he froze for a heartbeat, overwhelmed.

“Hey,” he said, his voice a mix of surprise and warmth. His eyes fell to the small, crying bundle in your arms. “Is that…?”

“Luna,” you replied, a smile breaking through your melancholy as you glanced at him. “Our daughter.”

His heart raced as he took a tentative step closer, a blend of emotions flashing across his face—joy, wonder, and a flicker of anxiety at the sound of Luna’s cries. “Can I… hold her?” he asked, a rare vulnerability lacing his words.

You nodded, carefully passing Luna to him. As he cradled her, a cautious tenderness enveloped them both. The moment she nestled against his chest, Luna’s cries faded to soft whimpers, then silence. Lloyd’s eyes widened in astonishment, and he looked down at her, a mixture of awe and something deeper in his gaze.

“Did she just…?” he began, glancing up at you in disbelief.

You met his eyes, both of you sharing a moment that felt almost sacred. “She knows,” you whispered, feeling the weight of the connection shared between them, the heartbeat of Justin’s heart echoing through her small frame.

Lloyd swallowed hard, emotions welling up in his throat as tears brimmed in his eyes. “I—” he stammered, the words catching in his chest.

As he held Luna close, his tears began to spill over, tracing silent paths down his cheeks. It was a mix of happiness and sorrow—a bittersweet farewell and a joyful hello all at once. “I think Justin finally met her,” he murmured, his voice cracking as he looked back down at Luna. “And now… it’s like he’s leaving, but in a good way. He’s passing the torch.”

You watched as Lloyd’s face transformed, understanding washing over him like a wave. In that moment, the profound significance of new life enveloped the room, binding all three of you in an unspoken promise. “He’d be so proud of her,” you said softly, your heart swelling with emotion.

“Yeah,” Lloyd replied, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, a smile breaking through the tears. “And I’ll make sure she knows it.”

As Luna cooed softly in his arms, you felt the weight of loss lift just a little. Here, amidst the tears and joy, life had found a way to weave a new tapestry, one rich with love and remembrance, and in that shared moment, you knew you weren’t alone.

The End

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[xx-rennyxx]

Wow I love the first chapter! Can't wait for the next!

You can run but you can’t hide.

Masterlist

(Soft!Dark! Soulmate AU)

Minors DNI.

p.s. slow updates

Summary: Lloyd Hansen had been told from a young age that he’ll one day find his other half. What they didn’t tell him was that not everyone was as excited as him to find their other half.

Based on this ask

Soft!Dark!Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Warnings through out the series : dark, noncon/dubcon, rape(?) just to make sure, age gap, manipulation, sex used as punishment(?), edging(?), smut, orgasm denial, forced orgasm, soft!dark! gonna give you whiplash, forced breeding, breeding kink, language, abusive/toxic relationship, violence, blood, more to be added as the series goes.

taglist is open.

Mini Series?:

Chapter 1: Soulmate

Chapter 2:

Chapter 3:

Chapter 4:

???:

Drabbles

Coming Soon…

[buckets-and-trees]

Welcome Home, Pumpkin [spiced]

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: dubious consent, soft!dark story, use of pet name "Pumpkin," explicit smut (fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse), orgasm denial, groping, light choking, bondage

Notes: This is the second 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 | 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, hang your bag on the hook by the door, and turn on some music before making your way down the hall to your bedroom, ready to change from your professional clothes to something comfy to lounge in the rest of the evening. 

You jump when a deep, serious voice you aren’t expecting says, “Welcome home, Pumpkin.”

Your heart rockets into your throat, and you grip the doorframe. “Lloyd Hansen!”

He chuckles, rising from the spot he’d been perched on the edge of the bed. 

“You’re not supposed to be here.” 

He makes a show of bowing slightly, “And yet, here I am.”

You hesitate in the doorway, studying the face of the man you are now so familiar with. 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. “Did you think I would really be stuck in a Lithuanian prison?”

You narrow your eyes slightly and chew the inside of your cheek. His eyes study you as much as you’re studying him, and you don’t want to give anything away. 

“Aw, you did. That’s cute,” he says, voice dripping in saccharine sweetness. “You should’ve known I’d be able to work myself out of there in two or three days, at most.”

You shrug. “A girl can hope.”

“Only one night, by the way, since I know you won’t ask,” he says, clearly wanting to boast. 

“And that was six months ago,” you counter. “I finished the job and got the paycheck.”

“The job might be done, but we have unfinished business, Pumpkin. And it’s more fun surprising you like this when you thought you’d never see me again, isn’t it?” he simpers. 

He might have been biding his time to drop in on your life again, and you can sense he’s eager, a bit impatient, but you also sense he will play this out the way he wants now that the two of you are in the same room together again.

And you hate the way you’ve been drawn to this man since the day you two first crossed paths. He is dangerous and untrustworthy. You operate in the daylight and occasionally step into the shadows, but he lives in the dark, revels in it. 

“Are you going to tell me what you’re keeping from me? Why you took the contract in Kaunas in the first place?” he asks, lifting his chin just a fraction. 

And oh that look does something to you - the delicious swoop in your stomach that made you weak in Eastern Europe and traitorously eager for him now. 

“No,” you finally answer. Slowly, you take measured steps toward him. 

“Fair enough. But I might get under your skin enough to change your tune, wind you up, have you singing all sorts of secrets for me.”

“How much time did you spend thinking up that line? The imagery, the alliteration? Impressive.”

“Not the only thing that’s impressive about me,” he responds without a second thought.

You scoff, but there is an impertinent flutter in your chest you try to tamp down. He talks - a lot - but from the brief time you were in each others’ orbit in Lithuania, you learned he could back up his bluster with brains and brawn. A dangerous player on the board.

“How much time did spend you think about my fingers deep in your pussy like they were in the closet in that day in Kaunas?”

His words hang in the air, a bold challenge that sends a shiver down your spine. Your mind immediately flashes back to the last day in Lithuania, when you had been alone, hiding in a closet and his fingers had boldly started to explore your body. You can almost feel the heat of his touch, his breath on your neck, and his hard body pressed against your back like they were that day. The memory floods your senses, the smell of wood and dust, the creaking of the floorboards as the hired goons patrolled up and down the hallway just on the other side of the door. And now, here he is, asking how much time she had spent thinking about it.

You couldn't deny to yourself the way your body responds to his words, his presence, craving that same intense pleasure again, but you can deny it to him. You have to.

“I didn’t want you then, and I don’t want you now,” you reply simply and walk over to your dresser, bypassing him on the bed. Methodically, you begin to take off your necklace, and then your watch, as if he’s not there.

“Want, need, crave…”

“Lloyd!” You gasp because those words are murmured directly in your ear, as Lloyd has moved with silent precision right behind you. 

“…those are all different things,” he says. He presses his hard body up against your back, pressing his pelvis up against your ass, knocking you roughly into the drawers, pinning you. “You may not want this, but need it? Crave it?”

“No,” you whimper when he grinds against you again. 

“Mmm, you made some pretty, soft sounds when we were hidden in the dark before. Wonder what sounds I can get you to make now that we’re not trying to be discreet.”

“We’re not trying to be anything,” you argue, squirming against him. 

“Anything with labels, no, definitely not,” he agrees. “But you’re itching for it, aren’t you, Pumpkin?” 

One of his large hands gropes your breast, and the other moves to your throat. He squeezes in both places, and you groan, a shiver ripping through you. 

He chuckles, “I see we like that.”

“No,” you whimper. 

“Boring!” he barks. 

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. 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, chest heaving, waiting with bated breath. 

He unbuttons the top of your pants and drags down the zipper, all the while looking in your eyes. 

“I find you wet, and I’m not stopping,” he insists, tone low, calculated. 

You could press your thighs together, try to squirm away from him, but he’s too strong, and you know what he’s going to find. You could even turn your head and look away, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

His fingers dip into your panties, and he goes straight for the cut of you, slick and wet for him, and slips a finger inside. 

“I knew it,” he whispers. His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing in slow circles.

You moan, arching into his touch, unable to resist the pleasure he’s giving you.

“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.

“Lloyd,” you moan his name, and he chuckles softly.

“You sound so sweet when you say my name like that,” he coos, increasing the speed of his fingers inside you.

Your breath hitches as your orgasm approaches.

But then he pulls his thick fingers away, and a whine escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your body surges up, pelvis seeking his.

"You'll give me what I want," Lloyd purrs, his voice low and dangerous. He brings his slick fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. The sight makes you shiver involuntarily.

"Never," you breathe, but your voice lacks conviction.

Lloyd smirks, clearly not believing you. "We'll see about that."

He leans down, pressing his body against yours once more. His lips brush against your ear as he whispers, "I always get what I want. And right now, I want you."

Before you can respond, he captures your lips in another searing kiss. His hands roam your body, touching, teasing, igniting a fire within you that you've tried so hard to extinguish. You hate how easily he can affect you, how your body responds to his touch without your permission.

Lloyd's voice is a low rumble against your ear as he pins you to the bed. "You'll tell me everything I want to know."

You struggle to catch your breath, still reeling from the sudden loss of his touch. "I told you, I'm not giving you anything."

He smirks, trailing a finger down your cheek. "Oh, but you will. Your body's already betraying you. I think you’ll give me everything."

You think there’s a possibility he could end up being right, because while you didn’t think of him much after Lithuania, the truth is you did think of him. You thought of him on some of the nights alone in your bed when you had your best orgasms.

"What's the real reason you took that contract in Kaunas?" he demands.

You clench your jaw, refusing to answer. Lloyd's hand slides back to your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

"Come on, Pumpkin. Make this easy on yourself."

Your breath catches as his fingers tighten ever so slightly around your throat. The pressure sends a thrill through you, desire boiling in your belly despite your best efforts to resist.

"I won't tell you anything," you manage to choke out, your voice strained.

Lloyd's eyes darken with a mix of frustration and arousal. "So stubborn," he murmurs. "But I did hope you’d choose the hard way."

He takes off his belt and binds it around your forearms. 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 against your entrance. He leans down, his breath hot against your ear. "Last chance to tell me what I want to know."

You turn your head, refusing to meet his gaze. "Go to hell," you spit out.

He chuckles darkly. "Oh, we're already there, Pumpkin."

With one powerful thrust, he buries himself inside you. You cry out, overwhelmed by the sudden fullness. Lloyd groans, his fingers digging into your hips.

"Fuck, you feel even better than I thought you would.”

You moan and push your bound forearms at 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.

He gives you what you won’t admit you want.

Over and over again he gives it to you, until you’re boneless, voice hoarse, throat raw, limbs aching, babbling, but somehow still fighting against giving the one piece of information he’s seemingly desperate to have.

When dawn is about to break, dazed and delirious with pleasure, you wonder which of you will break first - or if neither of you will.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

all Welcome Home, Pumpkin stories

Aaaaah! So with the second one, what do you think? Was this anything like what you were expecting? Did you catch the repeated lines?

...and will you be ready for the third and darkest of the three?!

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[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

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