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The official sealed record states August Walker is deceased. It doesn’t mention why there wasn’t a funeral like any other CIA agent killed in the line of duty would get. No one talks about him at all. You’re going to find out why.
august walker x reader. 2.6k words. angst, fluff, smut!! 18+ only
You glanced down at the file on your desk, knowing you could be fired just for being aware of its existence. No one knew about you and August; it was imperative to your safety and his that no one knew. When he didn’t come home after three months on a mission with Ethan Hunt, you knew something was wrong.
He would never just abandon you. Having to go undercover for awhile, maybe. But the CIA would have had to keep a trail of that, for bureaucratic reasons. You got through some encrypted files, found the code names he went under, and discovered in an email that there was a single paper copy in a higher-up’s desk.
It would have been difficult for anyone else, but it was easy for you to get your hands on it. Now you stared at the manila folder named ‘Walker/Lark’ and suddenly weren’t sure if you wanted to know what was inside it.
An hour later, you’d read through it all, and nothing was clear anymore.
You carefully stacked all the papers and photographs together, tears blurring your vision as you placed them back in the envelope, which you’d put back where you found it without anyone knowing. You thought you knew everything about August— his childhood, his mother, his army experience and how it all traumatized him. What he did in the CIA, you accepted and loved him not in spite of it all, but including it all. You loved him, and knew about the ring in the back of the closet with hopes he’d one day grow up and actually ask you.
Who was this man you’d spent the last three years with?
Nothing made sense anymore, but one thing was clear— you needed answers if you were ever going to let this go. And you weren’t entirely convinced August was dead anymore. He was the most solid man you’d ever seen, he’d survived bullet wounds and hits that would kill regular men. Whatever happened out there with Ethan, it was only part of the story.
So, you grabbed a bag and started packing for Kashmir, where the file claimed he was killed. Your eye caught on the black box on the top shelf on August’s side of the closet, half hidden behind a plaid shirt he always wore on weekends that still smelled of him.
You were suddenly hit with a wave of emotion. Maybe this trip was just another stage of grief because you wouldn’t accept that he was gone. Because you never got to openly be with him, when it died it was like your entire relationship died too. The love had no where to go, no where to be remembered.
You took the box and opened it, looking at the ring for the second time since you first found it. A beautiful old miners cut diamond on a silver band, a bit rough but gorgeous, like the man that bought it. You slipped it onto your left ring finger, snapped the box shut, and finished packing.
When I want to read dark fics, your writing just hits. One of my guilty pleasures recently has been dark!winter soldier stuff and I was hoping you could write one.
If you can, can you make it where Bucky is still the Winter Soldier and finds himself completely enamored with the reader. He stalks her briefly and decides he has to have her. So where it gets dark is mean, brooding soldier kidnaps reader and makes her his housewife. (I’d like to think that some of Bucky’s 40ness is still there along with some good old fashion 50s idealization where he basically molds her into being his perfect little housewife.)
He can still be with hydra or not but this thought has been buzzing around in my head recently and I personally am not good at writing dark fics.
Um, hell yes I can! Also, not me having almost exactly the same idea (it was in my drafts and I totally merged it with yours). Sorry for being late uni kicks my butt hard TT. Also, please note that this is a headcanon kind of situation type deal but apparently there's a limit to how many bullets you can put per post so that's why it looks the way it does! Hope you like it still. Unedited ❤️
Warning(s): Dubcon (just to be safe), stalking, kidnapping, housewife kink, stockholm syndrome, spanking, misogyny, domestic discipline, breeding kink (dash), age gap (I mean, man is over a century old). Contains mature content. Browse at your own discretion. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
You are absolutely shit faced as you stumble out the backdoor of the club with two of your girlfriends tangled around each arm.
You are all giggling, stumbling and slurring out curses, trying to shush each other as you trudge your forms to your apartment complex that is close by because driving is obviously out of question now.
Were it not for your overly intoxicated state, you would have totally noticed the dark silhouette that stills in the dark alley facing the backdoor.
The man masked in the darkness tilts his head to the side as he tries to read your party, having gotten caught off guard by the sudden bursting open of the door.
One of your friends stagger in his direction and he moves back, his labored breaths warm in his mask, watching the girl as she retches her guts out.
Silence follows the wheezes and gags of the girl.
Then there is a sound– a melody in the air.
Soldat feels something stir within himself.
Something his masters did their best to suppress.
Not that they would be doing any more of that.
They needed to be alive to do something like that ever again.
His eyebrows furrow as he scans your group for the source of the sound; you.
You are laughing.
At your friend that is throwing up.
Hands clutching your hurting sides, eyes scrunched, head thrown back, flushed and sweaty face vibrant under the bright moonlight as your hair frames it in the most perfect way possible.
A shaky breath escapes the man covered in tears and blood of his captors and oppressors.
His eyes scan your form.
Beautiful.
His metal hand clenches into a fist and he makes his resolve almost instantly;
Mine.
Soldat cannot recall much of his past except for a few things like his name.
But he knows that it has been a long, long time.
And it's time to go home.
But a home is not walls and concrete.
It is the people that live in it.
His head is a mess as he scales a wall and follows you to your building, skipping from roof to roof effortlessly with a careful eye on your form.
James had finally broken free against hydra yesterday morning while they were experimenting something more brutal.
And during the following hours, all various leaders that made the organization what it was were dead.
For what is a structure without its pillars?
He had plundered them single handedly.
And now he was a slave no more.
James would live, and he would take.
Just as had been taken from him.
You woke up the next morning, sprawled across your bed.
As you winced and sat up, you could swear you had knocked out on the couch last night.
But since you couldn't teleport, it was probably just a gap in your memory.
Right?
The second sign was the painkillers and water next to you on the bedside table.
The third was the window of your room that was open wide.
But you shook your head as you were behind on your schedule for the day and got on with your busy university student life.
You should have taken notice of the signs.
How things would always somehow work out when you were struggling with some sort of a problem.
Regardless of whatever type of an issue it was.
Your friends joked about it as Divine Providence.
And Divine it was, you lived to learn.
When it happened, it wasn't after a dramatic chase or anything.
You had simply woken up in a room you had never seen before, tucked in the bed like it had been yours for ages.
What even happened?
You had finished an assignment before heading to bed for an early class the next morning.
But now you were timidly surveying the room, more and more panic filling you by the passing second.
The house is beautiful and bright outside the dark room you had woken up in, big glass windows facing tall trees and various other type of greenery outside.
A loud gasp escaped you when you were somewhere in the middle of the living room.
You turned around to find a huge and by that you mean, giant man standing a few steps away from you.
You could swear he wasn't there a minute ago.
But now he is towering over you, head tilted to the side as if interacting with something from an outer planet, eyes scanning your form slowly.
As if he's savouring the sight of you in a…
Your blood runs cold as you look down to realize that you are dressed in a white sundress with yellow and red flowers printed on it.
Your eyes widen in horror.
Because you had been wearing your PJs last night–
Or, rather, the last time you were awake.
Before you can say anything, he extends a hand towards you invitingly, nodding sideways to what seems to be the kitchen.
Something in his hand glints in the sunlight coming from the windows.
It is when your panicked vision realizes that the hand and the whole arm is made up of metal, your body backs away.
With your mouth agape, you demand shakily.
"Who the hell are you?"
He sighs.
"What the hell is this place? Why am I here? What the fuck is going on?!"
The man's features scrunch in disapproval.
Your choice of words is much unappreciated.
"Good little wives don't ask questions."
In his angry, fried and entitled delusional mind you are as much in love with him as he is.
Otherwise, why would you just accept all the favours he did for you during all these months he was building a perfect home for the both of you and your future children?
He takes a step in your direction and you leap back.
After a short game of cat and mouse, you are trapped against the glass window.
He is too close.
There is a heavy looking vase on the table next to you.
The shock on his face is evident.
He hadn't expected you, his wife, such a small and innocent girl to disrespect her husband like this.
You whimper in horror when he doesn't budge against the decoration piece exploding against his brow bone.
James' eyes narrow as he leans in, a thick stream of blood running down the hurt side of his face.
"Bad girl" and you take off without a second thought.
Thankfully, the door is straight ahead and surprisingly unlocked.
You run without looking back.
The man is not chasing you like you expected.
But you don't want to stick around and find out why.
Though the reason is soon revealed when you race through the little garden and out of the fence door.
You are looking behind you and at the house so it is not until you are a good distance away from it do you turn your head to look ahead.
Icy horror pierces its way down your spine.
Sand and palm trees dominate your vision as far as you can see where you are and your right side.
A devastatingly vast ocean washes the shore you are running on from the left side.
That doesn't stop you until your body gives up after a few minutes.
You ran into the jungle for some cover.
Sobs and tears burst out of you as you collapse on a blanket of leaves.
Your body is weak and confused.
Many hours pass.
You wander and starve.
You hide and shake.
You tip toe and give up.
There are wild animals all around you.
You can hear them.
It's terrifying.
So terrifying that when you hear the stranger's voice some time after dusk, you are almost glad.
Are you done? His bright blue eyes that you can make out even in the dim light ask you silently.
"How'd you even find me?" You were sure you had run a good couple miles.
He refuses to respond until you place your shaking hand in his awaiting metal one.
"I can smell you" his accent is almost foreign as he pulls you up, frowning at your hurt bare feet.
It took you hours to get to where you were but it only takes James a few minutes to get you back home.
"Before I clean you up, I need to punish you." You are baffled. "Good wives don't run away from their husbands."
He doesn't listen to any of your protests and reason that day or ever.
"Little girls don't know what is right for them. Only their husbands can decide that."
He thoroughly washes you that night after giving you the worst spanking, paying no mind to your begging and crying.
You are sniffling as you sit on the bathroom counter wrapped up in a towel an hour later, your sore ass buzzing under you.
Your captor is kneeling in front of you as he tends to your hurt feet.
He tells you your rules as he does so.
"First, you are to always obey me no matter what. Second, your body belongs to me as I am your husband, so you should not try to deny me of it because it will never end well for you. Third, you will respect me or you will live to learn to do so. Four, you will do your chores like a good wife and fulfill your wifely responsibilities. Five, you are to always accept your punishments and thank me for disciplining you after I am through with you, should you choose to break a rule or misbehave. Six, you will not indulge in any activity that can potentially corrupt your little mind. Seven, you will speak with respect and never out of turn. Eight, you are to always greet me when you wake up or if I have been gone a while. Nine, you can try to run. I will never stop you. But when you return home after failing, you will take your punishment obediently. Ten, you must never touch yourself. You are mine and mine alone."
Since the spanking is still fresh on your skin you panic a little and fear forgetting them.
But you find them pasted on the fridge the following morning because he knew you were too dumb to remember them.
A few days pass before you explode about not being his wife and call him crazy.
"You weren't saying that when I did you all those favours."
Horror dawns upon you as you realize that it was him all along.
You don't give up easily, though.
You try to run more times than you can keep count.
Every direction, every plan and every map you make proves to be useless.
Because the last time you do so, you realize that you are on a fucking island.
And since there is a dock near the house with the pantry never running low on groceries, James has a means of transport hidden somewhere is no mystery.
But you don't know when he does it.
So far you haven't been able to figure out a pattern.
Either he was right about you being dumb or your captor was really good at staying one step ahead of you.
Anyways, you have no choice but to return to him crushed and sobbing as always.
He is reading something when you collapse between his legs; ready to accept your punishment as you have learnt that hiding and denying only makes it worse.
James isn't so bad if you follow his rules.
He is just a kidnapper and a misogynist with dangerous reflexes.
His face is smug as he puts the book away. You have noticed that he is not as stiff and troubled as he used to be when you first woke up here months ago at this point.
"How was it, doll?" He loves to hear you talk about it as he bruises your ass. "Any luck?"
Today, though, something different happens.
You don't know if it's resignation and surrender finally settling in or if you have actually started to like this life.
How James gives you a nod of approval and pats your head rewardingly whenever you follow all your rules without any trouble.
The way he lets you stay up past your bed time (yes you have one because good wives are healthy for their husbands) to read a book or watch a movie.
If you were extra good and talked to him (though he was a man of a few words) and helped him out with a little farming thing he had going on in the backyard/patio, he would even let you sleep in the following morning.
No stress or pulling yourself through classes and tight budgets.
Just being what he considered good and then whatever you would mention briefly would be in the house within the next few days.
When he is done punishing you, you thank him and apologize according to routine. But then you hug him.
You tell yourself it is due to the sad reality that your torment is your comfort.
Has to be.
You have no choice.
And then something unexpected happens in the course of the next few days.
While trying to make the best out of this situation, you start to notice the little things, quirks and rituals, habits and mannerisms of this man.
How he doesn't say anything if he doesn't like a certain ingredient or condiment in something you cooked but pushes it aside to use as compost later.
The way he holds you extra tight some times when he mutters a foreign language in his sleep.
How he stares at the scary metal arm after a long day while waiting for you to finish up dinner.
Or the way he struggles to hold himself back whenever you are in a close proximity to him because you cried once he crept his hand up your ass in a sexual way.
You don't get him sometimes.
His morals are as mysterious as him.
Because he kidnapped you and forced you to be his wife in a '40's way, strips you to spank and humiliate you during punishments, then bathes and comforts you in his own way of silently holding you against his chest in his arms until you calm down.
Your tears don't effect him.
But then he refuses to touch you sexually after the one time he tried.
It takes you a while to make the most peace that you can with James, but it happens eventually because you don't have a choice.
The loneliness starts to drive you mad otherwise.
You are helping him with his farming one day when you collapse.
James isn't happy to find out that you haven't had any of your daily water intake for the day.
After he is sure you are hydrated, it is punishment time because caring for yourself is also a rule you are supposed to never break.
Your ass is red and seething by the time he's done. Everything is pretty much routine except that you don't sit up to apologize and maybe hug him like usual.
Not even when he pats your ass to signal that he's done.
"H- Hubby?" You sniffle as you use the endearment.
It had been a proud discovery of yours.
James always gave in a little whenever you used it.
"Yes, little mouse?" You bite your lips as your thighs tremble.
Fuck.
"Y- You say we are husband and wife…"
"What about it?"
You bite your lip as you push your ass out and towards him, letting your legs part.
"Then why don't we act like it?" James is good at concealing his emotions and showing restraint.
But he can't help the way his cock hardens at the sight your pretty red thighs reveal to him.
Your perfect pussy is glistening with your creamy arousal, the entrance of your vagina blinking to indicate its need to be filled.
Fuck.
Though James starts off small and slow with his fingers rubbing your cunt, the night ends with him balls deep into your pussy with his length rearranging your organs.
Whatever was left of you to own for him, he does so after that night.
You cannot go on for long without having some sort of physical proximity to him.
The sex is wild and it's amazing with his stamina.
It is also instrumental in bringing you two closer than ever.
James opens up to you slowly, but only when you ask about it.
You had done so in the past as well.
But since it's genuine curiosity now, he feels comfortable telling you all about it.
It is a lot for you to take in and you almost don't believe him until he shows you some of his belongings from his time.
Things drift on as smoothly for a while as the waves outside your house.
And then comes the ultimate test.
Which decides the course of your future with him.
He is still asleep one morning when you wake up.
It isn't a usual occurrence.
But you had introduced him to comics lately and he had been obsessed with them despite claiming that they were too childish and unrealistic.
While he had a metal arm himself…
You adjust the quilt before getting ready for the day and heading out to make breakfast.
It is when you realize in panic that there aren't any apples left even though James had asked you to make a grocery list (that started when he started trusting you more) and you had assured him that you had enough apples for a while.
"I am gonna get the hairbrush today, I swear to God!" You mutter to yourself as you rush through the house like a headless chicken.
Thankfully, your garden had an apple tree so you could save yourself from a breakfast spanking at the very least.
But something standing next to the dock catches your attention before you can the apples you try to budge free from their branches.
A motorboat.
Before you can decide what you think of it, you are standing next to it on the dock.
It has fuel and a map. The key is in the ignition.
You narrow your eyes and feel your head splitting.
A lot goes through your mind.
Flashbacks play before your eyes.
It is almost a full circle moment.
And then you are standing in front of James who is seated on a stool next to the kitchen counter you use for dining.
His head is lowered as he sips on his coffee and stabs at the breakfast you prepared with a fork.
"Hubby?" Your captor freezes before he slowly looks up at you.
The blue of his eyes is troubled. He is in disbelief. As though he wasn't expecting you to be standing here.
"There is a boat outside. Do you think someone could be–"
"You didn't leave." His voice is heavy.
"What kind of a wife leaves her home?"
You two just stare at each other for a while.
No words exchanged.
Then, for the first time ever, James gets up and hurriedly closes the distance between you two, enveloping you in his arms before pushing you against the wall behind you.
"I felt so angry and wronged that I thought I could take anything because I deserved it after everything that happened to me but… I love you too much, mouse."
He has never spoken this earnestly before.
"I just realized that I do too."
James kisses you passionately before you wrap yourself around him and close your eyes blissfully.
He tightens his own arms around you gladly.
He would have hated to end up back on square one with you had you chosen to try and escape.
The boat would have blown up a small fuse that would have been loud enough for his enhanced hearing if someone– you, were to turn the keys in the ignition.
Yes, he wasn't expecting you to be back but only too soon.
It was a test and you passed.
As always, James stuck to his ways and rewarded you for being such a good wife.
By giving you a ring, a new wardrobe and a baby that was the first of many to come.
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So you get a little confused when you’re drunk? So what?
a/n: I saw a goofy little twitter post about this somewhere and ran with it. I’m goofy when I’m drunk, so, honestly? A very plausible scenario.
warnings: Mild language, alcohol consumption.
note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.
You do not have permission to copy, repost, or translate my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog.
—
You’re sitting next to Bucky and across from Sam, and you are a little very drunk. The three of you chose to have a drink and talk after a long day of working on the Wilsons’ boat. The issue, however, is that Sam challenged Bucky and yourself to a drinking game, and you were desperately losing.
One thing about you is that when you’re drunk: you feel the need to tell everyone how much you love them. Another thing about you when you’re drunk: your memory sucks.
“Sam,” you whisper yell across the bow of the boat. “Sam. Sam. Sam.”
Sam raises an eyebrow at you when he turns his attention to you.
“I have a secret to tell you! No, two secrets!” You hold out two fingers in front of you.
Sam smirks. “What’s that?”
“One,” you hold up one finger, “I love you; you’re a good friend. Two,” you hold up a second finger, “your friend who’s sitting by me is really, really hot.”
Sam lets out a loud laugh, and you grin at his reaction.
“I love you, too, kid.”
Bucky is smiling fondly at you, watching you with love and adoration. He’s glad he can’t get drunk simply for the ability to take care of you while you let loose.
“I’m really, really hot, huh?” Bucky teases, and he laughs when you nearly get whiplash from turning to look at him.
Your eyes are wide as you stare at him. In your drunken state, you clearly didn’t expect him to hear your admission to Sam. You relax after a second, though, and smile at him.
“Yeah, you are. Y’know, I was wonderin’…” you trail off, getting distracted as you stare into his bright blue eyes. You let out a content sigh as you observe him.
“What were ya wonderin’, Doll?” He lets his hand rest on your thigh, rubbing his hand up and down comfortingly.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” Your question is dead serious. There’s no hesitancy or joke in your voice, and Bucky finds it completely endearing. He chuckles as he stares at you, and you can faintly hear Sam lose his shit. You don’t pull your attention away from Bucky at all, though.
“I do,” Bucky informs you, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at your reaction.
Your eyes go wide, tears prickle at the corner of them. You swallow and wipe them away before doing your best to come up with a steady voice.
“Is it serious?” You question him.
“Very,” he smiles. “‘m gonna ask her to marry me.”
Generally speaking, Bucky wouldn’t have told you his plans, but he is fairly certain you’re not going to remember this conversation in the morning. And, if you do, he isn’t too concerned because he is so very serious.
You make no effort to hide your disappointment, and you let your tears fall freely this time.
“Oh, okay. She’s so lucky. Does she make you happy?”
“Happier than I’ve ever been.”
“Oh. That’s good.”
You’re obviously upset, and you’re obviously unaware Bucky is talking about you. Sam is trying not to laugh, but his wide grin betrays him. Bucky, however, finds himself more concerned than entertained when you start to actually cry.
“Doll, what’s wrong?” He wipes a tear away with his thumb, softly holding your face.
“No!” You push his hand away, eyes going wide. “You have a girlfriend! She wouldn’t want you touchin’ me!”
He laughs then. He can’t help it. After all, his girlfriend would very much want him to touch you. You always have your hand interlaced with his, or your body snugly tucked into his side, or your hand in his hair, or… The list goes on.
“Hey, don’t laugh.” You frown.
“Sorry, sorry. ‘s just that my girlfriend loves when I touch you.”
Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion.
“Why would she like for you to touch other women?”
Sam bursts into another round of laughter. He is struggling to breathe as he wordlessly points at the two of you, ignoring Bucky’s glare.
“Oh, Doll, she doesn’t. She hates it, really, and I never pay another dame a lick of attention. She’s the only one I’ve got eyes for.” He kisses your forehead, a form of punctuation to his assurance.
Your critical thinking skills, however, are formally shot.
“You’re lying! You’re paying me attention! And I’m not your girlfriend! What’s your girlfriend’s name? I’ve got to tell her you’re cheating. Girl code.”
Sam loses it again.
“Your girlfriend! You: cheating! Shit!” Sam barely manages to get a thought out. Bucky grins at his friend. He can’t deny that he is just as entertained by your antics.
He pulls out his phone, opening his contacts up to the one labeled “Dollface,” and hands it to you.
“Here,” he says, “call her.”
You nod and take his phone, hitting the call button and holding his cellphone to your ear.
A ringtone fills the night air and you frown when you feel a vibration in your back pocket. Clumsily, you pull your own cellphone out of your pocket and look down at the screen.
“JBB <3 is calling…” appears on your screen along with a candid photo of Bucky laughing.
You stare at it, and Sam and Bucky stare at you. You don’t do anything—don’t say anything, don’t move—until the call goes to voicemail. Finally you look up at Bucky.
“Why’d it call me?”
“Y/N, you’re my girlfriend,” Bucky finally says.
Your face breaks into a wide grin.
“No shit!”
—
“I wasn’t that drunk!” You insist the following morning.
Sam and Bucky exchange a look before laughing.
“Kid,” Sam says once he’s calmed down enough. “You asked Tin-man if he had a girlfriend and cried when he said yes.”
Your eyes go wide as you turn to Bucky for confirmation.
“You did, Doll,” he says, smiling.
You stare for a moment before shrugging and turning back to your coffee in front of you.
“Y’know what? That’s a totally reasonable reaction,” you say, leaning back into Bucky as he situates himself behind you and plants a loving kiss in your hair.
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event | august '23 general requests blurb night
summary | ransom has a surprise encounter with your little niece.
pairing | soft!ransom drysdale x auntie!reader (+ reader's baby!niece)
warnings | SOFT RANSOM IS BACK. just soooo fluffy, like unbearable amounts of fluff hehe. written from reader's pov, but most of it is just ran & da baby <3.
requested by @brandycranby | hiiiiii eun ✨💕 for blurb night, maybe we could see a fluff or hurt/comfort + unexpectedly soft!ransom + baby? like a teeny tiny chubby wubby baby 🥺
an | aaaahhhhh i'm so glad you sent in this request brandy bby, i've been DYING to write soft!ran lately and this is just the sweetest idea ever ever, hope you enjoy sweet friend and thank you for the amazing idea!!
You don't hear Ransom as he returns home from work, tossing his bag beside the door with a quiet grumble. As always, he's not in the best mood after spending nearly six hours at his grandfather's, helping the old writer with the logistics of his business. He can't wait to spend time with you, the sunshine that always brightens his day and erases any worries that might be floating around in his mind. He doesn't see you as he looks around the living room, but what he does see catches him off guard. On the floor, across the room, sits a strange-looking contraption— some sort of swing. He lets out a gasp as he sees what's sitting inside: a tiny baby whose big, bright eyes are looking over at him with a darling sense of curiosity.
"Oh my," Ransom hums to himself. He stands frozen for a few moments, looking around the room again. You're nowhere to be found. "Now what are you doing here all alone?" he hums softly, finally building up the courage to start making his way over to the swing.
He stops several feet away, just observing the tiny being. Judging by the sweet pink lettering on her jumper that spells out Mama's Girl, he's able to easily guess the infant's gender. "My goodness," the large man whispers, his face softening as the sweet little girl smiles at the sound of his voice, "you're so tiny. What're you doing here, hmm? Was y/n looking after you this afternoon?"
He sits down cross-legged on the floor, scooting himself up a bit more as the baby sways gently in the swing, clapping her tiny hands together clumsily to show the stranger that she's happy to see him. Ransom bites back a smile, reaching out a hand to brush back the little one's thin tufts of hair. "Hi there, pretty girl," he murmurs, "Are you clappin' for me? That's so nice of you, sweetheart. What a smart girl you are."
The infant claps a few more times, giggling softly as a defeated smile finally crosses the brown-haired man's face. "You're too sweet," he admits, stroking the baby's chubby little cheek. "I wonder where y/n is, hmm? Have you seen her?" he asks comically, his grin widening as the baby just continues to wiggle and smile in the swing. "You wanna come out, sweetheart? C'mere, let me hold you."
His hands are steady and careful as he gently unbuckles her from the swing, being sure to support her neck and head as he lifts her up and brings her to his chest. "Oh my," his voice flutters as she tucks her tiny head against his shoulder, snuggling right up to him. "There you go, angel. I got you," he whispers, stroking her hair as he bounces her gently in his arms.
"Welcome home," you giggle as you enter the doorway to the kitchen, your heart swelling at the sight of the giant man holding the tiny baby so carefully, as if she's the most precious thing in the world.
"Look, there's y/n!" Ransom coos excitedly to the little one, causing her to look over at you and offer you a huge, toothless smile. "I bet she missed you!"
"Looks like you're Uncle Ran, huh?" you joke as you join the two on the floor, rubbing the tiny girl's back as Ransom sways and cradles her. "Never knew you liked babies."
"Me neither," the man chuckles, looking down at your niece with the gentlest smile. "But I think this little one might've changed my mind. Look at how tiny she is. So tiny and precious, aren't you?" he fusses her again, earning a chorus of giggles from the baby as he messes her hair carefully. "How long is she staying?" Ransom asks, looking back up at you. "Can we see her again soon? I'll take off work, Harlen won't mind— we should bring her over to see him! He loves kids."
"Hey, hey, slow down," you laugh, leaning over to kiss the sweet man's forehead as you remind him, "I haven't even told you her name yet."
Pairing: Biker!Steve x Reader, side of Biker!Ari x Reader.
AN: Their first date is coming up soon.
Steve pushes away from the car, his brow tightly furrowed as he tries to process what he just saw. Moving to his feet, he runs his hand across the back of his neck.
"What the fuck," he mutters under his breath. It comes as more as a statement than a question.
A hand slams down on his shoulder, squeezing once before pushing him. "You alright?"
"She doesn't have any oil in her car." Steve doesn't glance at his brother, instead, he gestures to the bone-dry oil pan by your front tire. "I just—I don't know how she even made it this far without this piece of shit catching on fire. Every single dashboard warning light is on—"
Ari chuckles as he looks over his shoulder to see you talking with his girl, cups in hand, the two of you doing a poor job of pretending you're not watching Steve and Ari's every move.
"—I can't tell where the fucking smoke smell is coming from. All four tires are smooth. Not a single tread left on any of them. Are you listening? I'm going to have to junk this. There's no way—" Steve's rant fizzles out when he follows Ari's eyes to where you're sitting next to the receptionist Ari is still claiming he doesn't like.
The weight of his gaze settles on your skin, warming you like the summer sun. You lift your head on instinct, your breath hitches when your eyes collide with his. You hope he's not aware of the effect he has on you.
Three seconds pass but they feel like hours, a deep ache weaves through your ribcage and you drop your eyes, resisting the urge to rub your chest.
Steve grins. You're so fucking sweet he can't wait to sink his teeth into you.
He'll make this work.
You believe he can get your car up and running again so he'll do that. For you. Steve wants do a lot of things for you.
Ari tilts his head, observing his brother with an amused glint in his sharp eyes. "That's going to cost you. You know that right?"
"I got it." Steve waits for you to spare another look his way, winking the second he catches your eyes again. You immediately drop your cup, catching it before it hits the ground, your mortified expression sends a chuckle through him. "She's worth it."
Ari runs his tongue over his teeth, his brows lifting briefly. "If you say so."
"So how's that new Keurig working out for you?" Steve asks, laughing when his brother's cheeks flush. All it took was one smile from the pretty new receptionist and suddenly Ari was in the giving mood. The guys still can't believe that Ari caved so quickly. "Should I ask--"
"Fuck you."
"Fuck you," Steve retorts with a grin. "You gonna help me with this right?"
"Yeah. Let me know what you need. But ah, around eight I need to go do something." Ari states, his eyes flickering over to his girl's desk. "And don't ask me what. It's not of your fuckin' business."
Steve holds his hands in mock deference. "Wasn't plannin' on it."
Ari strolls out of the garage, and down to his office. Steve isn't surprised when Sunshine hops up from her desk and follows him.
Aware that it's just you and him now with only the large window separating the front office and the garage, you lick your lips.
Your nervous habit draws his attention to your pretty mouth.
Steve wonders what you'd do if you knew what goes through his mind every time you bite down on your bottom lip. His eyes drift down your body like he's imagining the way his hands are going to mold to every curve you have.
Steve knows he should probably stop staring but he can't help himself when it comes to you. He can't wait for the day you trust him enough to let him in.
Until then, he's going to fix your disaster of a car and work out the finishing touches for your first date with him.
Your legs had been crossed as you sat on the leather sectional set against the wall in the old Levinson’s house, set to face the flat-screen television. It was now Danah’s, given to her by her parents after they’d moved out.
Danah was to your left, her hands digging through a small bowl of assorted jellybeans to find her favourites, her eyes cast upon the colourful candy instead of the movie playing out on screen.
You watched her from the corner of your eyes, head tilted to the left, while you fiddled with the edges of your nails.
As your best friend since childhood despite the differences in your class and upbringing, Danah Levinson was easily one of the prettiest girls you had ever been around. She had striking blue eyes and thick brown hair that always seemed to be set into place without a single struggle.
“Still struggling?” You questioned her with a laugh, watching her huff and hand the bowl to you, giving up on her task. “Who likes the coffee-flavoured jellybeans anyway?”
“Who likes the buttered popcorn?” She retort with a huff, her arms crossed over her chest.
She returned her attention to the screen in front of you, the movie playing out though neither of you had been paying attention. While it was standard practice for the two of you to spend your Friday nights watching whatever random B-list movie you could find, the tradition had tapered off in the last few years.
Danah and yourself had both gone to university, however, you had to drop out of the program two years into it due to your parent's medical bills that had fallen into your hands to pay off. You had dropped the program, doubled down on whatever work you could find and managed to land a half-decent waitressing job at a banquet hall.
Danah, on the other hand, had been the good Jewish girl she was and continued her university career. She was well on making her parents as proud as her older brother had.
Ari Levinson, the oldest of the two Levinson children, had become a well-known figure in the business world after creating and running a massive tech company. He was a self-made man who spent his time split between NYC and Boston, where the Levinsons lived. His career had been the highlight of his parents' lives, the ever-present pride evident in their voices anytime they talked about him.
“I like the buttered popcorn.” You had dug through like she had, grinning to yourself when you came upon the aforementioned jellybeans, stealing all that you could find.
As the movie played out, the front door opened and a small gust of wind had come with the arrival of the oldest Levinson child. Another tradition that had remained in place ever since you’d known Danah, was the Sunday night dinners that Ari had come to as often as possible. Even though the old home was now given to her, they still had dinner together as often as they could.
And with his arrival had come yet another scoff from Danah.
She was incredibly close with her brother, though they had the typical back-and-forth between the two that was usually laced with sarcasm and insults. There weren’t many moments you could reminisce on wherein they weren’t throwing digs at each other in their way. And with that, had come an appreciation from you toward their relationship.
“Stranger danger.” Danah stood up from the couch and moved toward Ari, her blue eyes narrowed in the direction of her brother as she scowled at him. “Who are you again? It’s been weeks since I’ve seen you.”
Ari to his credit, hadn’t responded verbally. Rather her had put his hand on top of her head and ruffled her hair, the action more irritating to your best friend than anything he could have spoken. Danah had gritted her teeth and slammed her hand into his shoulder, muttering under her breath aggressively, threatening him with something unseemly.
“Fucker.” Her next curse was louder, and you’d looked over your shoulder, watching her stalk toward the fridge, ripping the door open to grab a bottle of water.
While you were watching her, you felt Ari watching you. You felt his eyes upon you, his blues eyes studying you as you sat on the couch. You dropped your gaze to the small bowl of candy and feigned interest in finding your coveted flavour. As you started to rifle through, you felt the tension in the air grow thicker.
“Not gonna say hi, princess?” His voice was thick and husky, and he’d stood behind the sectional only to lean over and brush his arm against yours.
You had been once again reminded of his size, his height was unseemly compared to yours, and his broad width was unlike anyone you’d ever met before. You were caged in by his arms, and your eyes had grown wider when you felt him leaning in further. The subtle hint of his cologne, musk and spices, had delivered a punch to your core system, almost causing you to shut down.
“Ari fuck off.” Danah had shoved her way between Ari and another piece of furniture, glaring daggers at her older brother, scolding him vehemently. “Don’t you have something better to do?”
You didn’t move, couldn’t move, not until your phone blared with a reminder that you were supposed to be leaving as you had to get up early for work. With a frown you reached forward to grab your phone from the coffee table in front of you, swiping it from the dark stained wood. You ended the timer and set the phone on your thigh, briefly, before handing the bowl of candy to Danah.
“I have to go anyway.” Your sigh was weary, and you’d felt irritated by the own timer that was killing your night off. “I have to be up at a stupid hour-“
“You have two jobs?” Danah questioned you, her attention drawn from the TV to her phone, and then over her shoulder to where Ari was rifling through the cupboards for some pots and pans. “Thought you just had the one.”
“Between rent and medical bills…?” You stood from the couch and slipped your phone into your back pocket, and then moved toward the front door of her house. “I have to have two jobs.”
“You should find something new, princess.” Ari had quipped, moving from the kitchen toward the front door, his frame as massive as ever as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “You need something better?”
“I’ll be fine.” You yanked your cheap boots on your feet, and then slipped your jacket on, keys tucked into your coat pocket.
“Sure, sweetheart.” Ari rolled his eyes, his eyes zeroing in on you with feigned interest. “You could always work for me.”
You froze in the doorway, blasted by cold air from outside, and deliriously heated by the intensity of his gaze as he looked you over.
“Ari, quit being a fucking flirt!” Danah called from her place near the kitchen, her voice irritated.
A flirt, was the very minimalist way to describe Danah’s older brother. He was a notorious flirt, someone who was never really alone. Ari Levinson never had an empty bed, even when he was going through his noncommittal stages of his love life.
“My assistant is going on maternity leave.” He stepped closer, his hands shoved into the pockets of his tailored suit pants.
“It’s not yours is it?” You quipped, your eyes narrowed and heat bubbling under your skin. That heat had only intensified when he laughed naturally, the tone eliciting a shiver that ran down your spine.
“Trust me baby,” his voice had grown huskier, thicker, “if I tried, her wife would cut my dick off.”
“Attached to that?” You ignored your heart racing, and looked back over your shoulder to where your car was waiting.
“More than you know princess.” His lips twitched as a half-smirk crossed his face, and then he cocked his head to the side. “You want the job?”
“I’ll be fine, I can manage.” You denied him, instantly.
“Don’t turn it down so fast, baby. You should think about it.”
Your phone blared again, in your back pocket, and you were reminded of your time crunch. As you opened your mouth to speak, a crash from the kitchen had broken any attempt to further the conversation. Ari had turned his head to look at the source of Danah’s chaotic noise, and you had taken the chance to leave.
You stepped outside and closed the door with a solid click, and furthered yourself to your car. You didn’t wait for it to warm up like you should’ve, you started the engine blasted the heat and left.
All while remaining ignorant to the heat that was blistering yourself.
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Maybe it’s sweet sometimes, like when he can tell you’re nervous about something or frazzled and takes your hand is his and gives you a reassuring squeeze and a soft panty-ruining smile.
And other times, maybe y’all are out and about and you look so pretty in your dress and tennis shoes and he can’t help but wonder what you have on underneath. Grabs your hand and does this thing where he presses his thumb against your palm and you know it’s because he wants you 😮💨
And yet other times, he’s balls deep and rearranging your guts in a way that has you crying for him, and he’s right on the edge of cumming and his hand finds yours, palms pressing together as your fingers twine and yeaaaah, hand holding is definitely his thing 😏🫠
So, which CE babe are you picturing?! And feel free to tell me why 😘
warnings: swearing- obv. angst if you squint. smut & smut implications (nothing hardcore). slightly obsessive steve. occasionally innocent and shy steve rogers deserves its own warning bc…adorable. this also hasn’t been proof read <3
summary: after two years of knowing you, steve has learned everything about you. you became his best friend, and you, his. steve follows you around simply wanting to please you and do everything for you. finally you make the first move and steve wants to learn how to please you in other ways.
Steven Grant Rogers craves nothing more in this world than to please you in every possible way. Can’t reach something on a high shelf? No worries, he’s there within seconds to help you. And, no, he definitely wasn’t kind of following you. Hungry but don’t feel like making something? Steve would get or make you whatever you wanted and then some- and he’d have it back to you in 30 minutes maximum. You’re sore after a long mission? He’s on it immediately. He gathers every possible muscle cooling crème or oil he can find to give you a back massage. Needless to say, Steve would do anything for you. If you wanted him to hang the moon for you he’d find a way to do it.
Steve’s had romantic feelings for you for forever. However, over the last few months he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to more venereal places. Whenever you curled up against him in your sleep during one of your recent movie nights, all he could focus on was how your backside felt pressed against his groin. While he’s massaging your aching back and legs after training, the only thing he can think of is how he wants to touch every you. Just last week he took you out to get your favorite ice cream, but found himself only capable of paying attention to the way your lips curled around the spoon. He couldn’t help but notice the way your tongue flicked out to quickly lick the leftover sugary treat from your lips.
The feelings were new for Steve. He was well used to how you made his breath catch every time you’re near, but the thoughts he was having of you recently were distasteful in his opinion. No matter what he did in attempt to banish the daydreams, they wouldn’t budge.
Currently Steve was alone in his room and trying to concentrate on his drawing- originally planning to draw a lavender field for you. He knew you loved that he’d gotten back into his previously retired hobby and loved to see your smile when he hands you new artwork. He also knew you’d probably hang it up on your wall with the other pieces he made for you. Not that he’d ever vocalize it but your approval and praise keeps his world spinning. Somewhere in the middle of sketching out the background his mind had shifted.
No longer was he thinking about the beautiful flowers; he was thinking about purely you. All he can manage to think of is how many different ways there are for him to make you feel good. He’s seen things over the years and heard things from Buck that give him a rough idea of how to pleasure you, but he truly still had no clue where to start. Steve yearns for you to teach him everything about your body; he wants to learn where and how to touch you to make you feel the same need for him as he does for you.
The pit of neediness growing in his stomach is quickly replaced with frustration. Steven had felt sexual attraction before of course, but he’d never thought of a woman sexually for this long. He knew he wanted to wait until he was truly in love with someone before he had sex. Although it gives him some peace to know that intimate thoughts come with being in love, not being able to knock the constant want to touch you was aggravating. He knew you were made for him though and it made it worth every irritating thought or confusing feeling. You were his missing piece and he would save himself for you no matter how long he had to wait.
“Steven?” you called from outside the door, knocking gently.
The sudden noise startled him from his thoughts, forcing the growing neediness he felt to the back of his mind. He stood up quietly, walking towards the door after closing his sketchbook. His brain short circuited immediately after opening the door to reveal you. You were all dressed up for Stark’s party tonight and fucking hell you were a vision. The corset dress you’d chosen to wear fit your figure perfectly and the baby blue colored fabric complimented your complexion. Your hair and makeup was done perfectly in Steve’s eyes too. The smile that tugged on your lips when you saw him made his heart flip. When your eyes scanned over him, worry dully visible in your gaze at his silence, he’d tried to spit the words out.
“Y/n,” Steve whispered as he tried to find the right words. “You…you look amazing in that dress. I meant your dress is gorgeous. I’m…shit. I’m sorry,” he manages to say, stumbling over a few words causing him to stutter a bit.
The sound of your giggle eases his nerves and he musters up a smile. He quickly takes another glance over your body before gaining an unexplainable boost of confidence, “you really do look divine in that dress, Honeybee.”
“Thank you, Stevie,” you respond softly as you brush a fallen strand of hair from your face.
Your eyes rake over his body now. His white t-shirt clung to his muscular figure, showing off his biceps and toned abs. The black sweatpants he wore often now showcased an obviously growing bulge. For a second he feels his breath quicken under your gaze.
“Are you sure you don’t wanna go to the party? It might be fun, Stevie.”
A sigh escapes his parted lips and he shakes his head, “no, no. I’ll be okay here. I’m not feeling great today.”
“Anything I can do to help? What’s bothering you?”
Your head tilted as your fingers grazed his jaw gently. He tensed up momentarily at the sudden touch but relaxed almost immediately. Steve practically melted at your soft touch; a touch so caring and gentle.
“I’m alright, but thank you. It’s just a headache.”He takes your hand away from his jaw to bring it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “I hope you have fun tonight, doll.”
“I’ll try. You should get some rest. You know where to find me if you need me, hm?”
Steve releases your hand with a smile, allowing your arm to rest back by your side. You’d left once you reassured him that you’d call if you needed him.
Steve went back to his drawing after awhile, deciding to watch a movie after finishing the piece. Unbeknownst to him, you were tiring of the party- social battery draining by the minute. That’s how, only an hour and a half after you left, you had shown up at his door again. Even in pajamas that consisted of just shorts and a tank top you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. Your hair was a little ruffled from changing out of your dress and your breathing was slower than normal.
“Are you sleepy?” Steve asks before stepping aside to let you in.
“More than sleepy- I am exhausted,” you sighed. You stepped into his bedroom and shuffled your way towards his bed. After shutting the door, he watched as you crawled into his bed to get comfortable. He smiled softly to himself before sauntering over to you.
“Can I do anything for you, Honeybee?”
“Can we watch a movie?”
“Of course. Anything for you,” he reassures you as he sits down next to you, “I’m only a few minutes into the movie I started. Do you wanna finish it with me or find something else?”
“We’ll just watch it from here.” You sighed again, now too comfortable in Steve’s presence to even worry about the movie and only wanting to curl up next to his warm body.
He lays down on the bed, allowing you to lay however you want. You’d chosen to lay your head on his chest and let his fingers play in your hair. “I appreciate you. I don’t say that enough. You’re my best friend. And you take such good care of me,” you mumbled to the blonde, his chest threatening to muffle what you said. Luckily for him, though, he had heard it.
“I… I’ll always take care of you, pretty girl,” he cooed, “do you need anything else?”
“No. You’re always doing stuff for me. I just want to relax with you.”
He’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t skip a beat at your consideration for him. Steve knew you cared for him, but it only made his heart grow fonder when you expressed it out loud. It was times like these when he felt like more than a friend- like maybe you feel the same fondness for him. But he was never great at picking up on cues with women unless they expressed their intentions directly. In fact, most of his knowledge on women came from Bucky. Buck tries to convince him that you do actually like him the same way, which was true, but Steve would not make the first move and take the chance on mistaking your friendliness for something else.
The first half of the movie seemed to drag on forever. Not because he thought it was boring, rather because the only thing he was paying attention to was your fingernails tracing his abs through his shirt. He’s about to readjust himself under his blanket to hide his growing bulge but then it happens; there’s a nude woman on the screen writhing and moaning under her male counterpart. He feels your body still, your breath comes to a stop for a few seconds, and you squirm a little under the weight of his arm due to the awkwardness of the situation.
The two of you lay there for the entirety of the scene, hoping it’ll be over soon. Realistically it only lasted about a minute, but to Steve it felt like five. It wasn’t the scene unfolding on the tv in front of him that was working him up, no, it was the unpreventable thoughts of reciprocating the actions on you. Not that he had realized like you did, but every few seconds his grip on your hair would tighten. He’d twirl a strand of hair around his fingers and mindlessly tug gently on it. Your thighs pressed together at his touch. A need for him that you tried to get rid of pooled deep down in your stomach. Soon enough the movie was over, both of you remained mostly quiet throughout the rest of the film.
“So…did you like the movie, Honeybee?”
“It was okay,” you lifted your head and smiled up at him.
Steve wishes he didn’t see the sight below him that you’d created. Your cheeks were flushed, your lips parted as you took slow breaths. You’d given him the best view of your cleavage and tempting neck with the way your head was leaned back.
“Are you okay, Stevie?”
“Yes, yeah I’m fine. Just tired, y’know,” he responded with urgency in a desperate attempt to change the subject, “hey, get up for just a second? I have something for you.”
Your head lifts from his chest and your body straightened out as you stretched your limbs. He walked over to his desk, bringing back a piece of paper that looked blank in the darkened room. After taking the paper and looking at it under the tv light, you could see that it was drawing of a beautiful lavender field with a sunset in the distance.
“Oh, Stevie, it’s beautiful,” you smile as you look up at him through your lashes, “you already know this is going on the wall.”
“T-thank you. I’m glad you like it,” he mutters as his confidence is replaced with nerves from your eyes on him.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You seem more scattered than usual. You know you can talk to me, right?”
“It’s nothing, really, I just have a lot going on in my mind. Don’t worry about me.”
“Steven. Talk to me, you’ve been off for the last few weeks. Come, sit,” you smile softly at him to help put him at ease and pat the spot next to you.
Steve plops down on the bed a few inches away from you with a huff. He was being oddly distant and seemed anxious. While he wasn’t the most confident man in the world, he was typically a polite conversationalist or at least was one to fill awkward conversation silence. But with you, even though he was comfortable around you, he couldn’t find that same confidence.
“I’ve just been having a lot of…feelings, I guess, recently.”
You cocked your head to the side, urging him to continue. He obliged.
“I’ve been having sexual thoughts and I can’t get rid of them.”
“Oh.”
The confession shocks you for a moment. He’d never really been one to talk about anything intimate or sexual with you, always blushing whenever you’d make a sexually implied joke. He wasn’t a prude, but he wasn’t outwardly sexual with you either.
“I’m sorry, is it weird to talk about that with you? I don’t want to overstep a boundary.”
“No. It’s okay, really. Whatever thoughts or feelings you’ve been having, I’m sure they’re normal. You can keep talking if you want.” The genuine smile on your face gives Steve all the comfort he needs.
“I want to understand how it works- how it feels, even. Do you think that’s normal?”
Steve looked over at you again, expression laced with hints of curiosity and confusion.
“It is. Most people feel like that; I felt it at some point too,” you confess with a shy smile.
As soon as your approval was vocalized, a wave of relief washed over his features, “can I be honest? There’s this girl, and I want to do…certain things with her. Or to her.”
Curiosity and hints of jealousy plagued your mind. “Stevie! I didn’t know you liked someone. Do I know her?”
“I, uhm,” Steve stops his sentence short as if he’s trying to find the right words. He finally gets the confidence to speak, but all he says is “It’s..you.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Your eyebrows furrowed and his gaze met yours after a few seconds. He wanted to respond, to blurt out everything he feels for you. But he couldn’t; he had never been this forward with you. He stood up, starting to feel overwhelmed.
“Oh, Steven.”
“I’ve been in love with you. You’re all I think about. If you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay, and I understand.“
“I
“I love you too. Please kiss me.”
It takes everything in him to stop his jaw from going slack. You loved him? More importantly, You wanted to kiss him? He nodded slowly, “O-okay.”
“Don’t be nervous. Do what feels right,” you coaxed him, placing a hand on his cheek.
He took your advice and allowed his body to take over. His hands flew to your waist, fingers squeezing your sides gently as he attached his lips to yours with haste. You threw your arms around his neck and allowed a free hand to get tangled in his hair. His lips worked on yours desperately and slowly. He pulled away to catch his breath but crashed his lips against yours again only a few seconds later. You nibbled gently on his bottom lip and he pulled you closer to him, almost allowing a groan to escape his chest. His kisses grew hungrier as the realization of how badly he needed you set in.
“I want to take care of you. Will you show me how to make you feel good,” he mumbled, gasping for air against your lips. He backed you up onto the bed and held your hips down, caging you in between the soft mattress and his body.
Between his kisses and the butterflies you felt in your stomach, you couldn’t muster up a response. Instead, you chose to return the same neediness in his kisses as your way of saying yes. To have him begging you to let him learn how to please you was more than arousing. The idea was driving you crazy- he was eager to know how to make you feel good. Both of you were panting by the time he pulled away from your lips. His cheeks were tinted pink and his lips were a little swollen.
“Does it feel good if I kiss you here?” Steve inquired before placing firm, open mouth kisses on your neck. Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair and you tugged gently on his soft strands. He took the hint to continue kissing down your neck, taking note of the quiet whimpers you were attempting to hide. He’d found a spot on your neck that elicited a moan from you whenever he kissed it. “Please let me hear you again, you sound so pretty,” he purred before dipping down to lick, suck, and kiss that spot again.
You tugged a little too hard on his hair at the sudden pleasure. His hips ground down onto yours instinctively, clothed cock rubbing against your core through your shorts. Steve noticed you shutter at the contact, deciding that it felt good for you when he did that- even if it was an accident. He repeated the action harder this time, now dry humping you with the perfect amount of friction. His thrusting was motivated by your moans and whimpers, only wanting to make you feel the best he could, and you were giving him exactly what he wanted with every gasp that escaped your lips.
“Is this okay?”
“It’s perfect, Steve.”
Steve tightened his grip on your hips and leaned down to place kisses on your lips. “There’s more you can do,” you’d managed to say in between a string of whimpers and his rough kisses, causing him to stop everything he was doing.
“Like what?” The question was rushed, it seemed as if he didn’t want to go a single second without giving you pleasure.
“You can touch me down there, do you know how?”
He shook his head, telling you to continue, “here. Let me get my shorts off and I’ll show-“
“No!”
His change in tone shocked you. The look he had on his face was telling you that it shocked him too. “I’m sorry. I meant I want to undress you- if that’s okay,” he apologizes.
“That’s okay. Go ahead.”
With that he backed off the bed, standing up to pull you towards the edge of the bed. He pulled you as close to the edge as possible that still allowed your legs to rest raised up on the bed. His hands made their way up your thighs tenderly. When he reached the waistband, he paused to look up at you for permission to keep going. You nod at him with a smile and then he’s pulling your shorts off slowly.
“You’re beautiful, doll,” he cooed, helping you sit up to take your shirt off. You shrunk under his gaze, throwing your arms up to cover your chest. He frowned at this in worry that he’d made you uncomfortable. He also just wanted to see your bare form again.
“Did I do something wrong, y/n?”
“No, it’s not you. You were just…staring at me.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No, it’s not a problem. I’m just not used to it.”
“Well, can I look at you again then..please?”
He once again waits for you to give him permission before moving. You suppress a giggle and give him another reassuring nod. His hands carefully move your arms to place them back at your side as he lays your body back down.
“So pretty,” Steve mumbles against your skin, pressing kisses along your chest. His hands are all over your body. Electricity courses through your body when his lips ghost over your nipple causing you to shudder- you hope he doesn’t notice, but he does. He pauses momentarily to hover his head over your chest and look up at you through his thick lashes, “what do I do?”
Your hand guides his to rest on you breast, “whatever you want. Use your mouth or your hands or-“
He cuts you off by squeezing softly at first to see your reaction; after seeing you squirm and hearing an almost whimper leave your mouth he decides to squeeze again. He squeezes harder, kneading your breast repeatedly as he pulls your other nipple into his mouth. His assault on your chest leaves you an unbearably wet and moaning mess under him. He’s quickly become addicted to your pleasure- he wants to hear you make these noises for him as often as you’ll allow him.
“God, Steve, you’re doing so good at that.”
He tries to hide the nerves he feels at your appraisal. Against his wishes he accidentally allows a whimper to fall from his lips as he pulls away from your nipple.
“You said I could touch you,” he says as he’s rubbing you through your panties. You can feel your wetness sticking to your underwear, now painfully aware of the effect he has on you. His fingers glide over your clit, “said I could touch you here. Right?”
“S-Steve,” you whimper his name softly at his touch.
“What…uhm..how do I touch you?”
“You can use your fingers, or your mouth. Or just do whatever comes natural to you,” you say in attempts to reassure him. However it only earns you a confused look from him. “Do you need me to show you?”
Contentment washes over his face and he nods hurriedly. It’s not that he wants to frustrate you or delay your pleasure but he does want to make sure he’s doing everything right.
“You can start by rubbing softly on my clit. Do you remember the spot you brushed just a second ago?”
“Mhm, the one that made you whimper?”
“Y-yeah, that spot,” you reply softly, taken aback by his newly found confidence, “you could start at my, uhm, entrance too. You can just tease me or put your fingers inside me if I’m wet enough.”
“Wet enough?” Steve questions with furrowed brows.
“When a woman gets, you know, turned on…she gets wet down there to make it less painful during sex. Do you understand now?”
“Oh,” he smiles at you innocently, the pieces seeming to click together, “I understand.”
He moves quickly to pull your panties down your legs. You squeak at the sudden motion and lift your hips up to make it easier for him to pull the fabric off. When he’s gotten your panties off, he lays you back down. He’s got you completely naked in front of him with your legs propped up and thighs spread apart by his strong hands.
“Woah,” he mumbles under his breath- the sight and smell of you intoxicating him. His eyes land on your dripping cunt right in front of him, and, if he didn’t before, he definitely understands what you meant now.
“You are wet. So, so wet. Did I do this?” Steve’s eyes contain nothing but adoration and curiosity as he ghosts his fingertips over your swollen clit. His gaze is glued to you, watching you shiver at his gentle touches.
“Steve, please,” you plead with a voice hardly above a whisper.
“S’not gonna hurt you. You’re..wet enough?”
“Yes, yes I’m wet enough. Please, do something.”
“How do I-“
You cut him off, feeling yourself grow needier, “Steven. Like I showed you earlier. Do anything. Just, please, touch me.”
“Hm, no more questions, got it.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be firm with you.“
“I said I’ve got it,” he purred, pressing two fingers to your aching bud.
Your mewled under him as his touch sent heat to your core. Soft fingers circled your most sensitive spot. His name began to roll off your tongue repeatedly. Then his fingers slid from your entrance all the up to your clit to gather your wetness on his fingers and he eased in two fingers. He slowly stretched you out, pumping the digits in and out.
“Oh, honey, you’re so pretty,” he said in awe; the sight of you was making his heart beat out of his chest.
Steve moved his fingers in different ways while sliding them in and out of you. He’d paid special attention to the way your back arched a little and you made the most delicious sound when his fingers curled upwards inside of you. So he kept doing that, softly hitting your g-spot while gliding his fingers out of you. You pout at him when he pulled them out completely.
“Just give me a minute. Okay?”
He brought his fingers to his lips and paused before placing them in his mouth to suck them clean. A smile spread across his face, bringing his fingers down to get them wet again. He brings his coated middle and pointer finger to your lips this time and urges you to open your mouth.
“Steve,” you whine.
“You taste good, want you to know how good you taste,” he says with that same innocent smile.
Your lips part, allowing him to place his fingers on your tongue. You swirl your tongue around them and Steve bites back another whimper. He pulls his fingers from your mouth once they’re clean then leans down to place a needy kiss to your lips, tongues swirling together in your mouth. It takes all of him to pull away from you, murmuring “I have to taste more of you,” when he finally does.
He places himself so his face is only inches away from your cunt. He’s not sure why but he can smell your arousal. While your scent is intoxicating, your taste is even more so. His lips place gentle kisses up and down your slit. He drags his tongue between your folds painfully slowly, lapping your juices up with his tongue. You try to buck your hips up into his mouth but he shuts you down and holds your hips in place. A cry comes out when he starts to suck relentlessly on your clit; your back arches as much as his tight hold will allow. He’s eating your soaked pussy like he hasn’t eaten in days- like you’re his last meal. Your moans are music to his ears, he relishes in them.
“S-Steve, you’re so good at that. Fuck,” you whimper and tug at his soft hair.
He hums against your clit to let you know he heard you but all you can focus on is the vibration it sent to your sensitive bud. His tongue goes down to your opening to slide inside of effortlessly. He’s swirling his tongue inside of you, occasionally sliding it in and out. You coat his tongue with your wetness. Your moans have him desperate to hear more, so he goes harder and faster, his tongue roughly exploring your cunt.
“Shit. Fuck, Stevie, ‘m close. You’re doin’ so good,” you praise him as he continues licking and sucking.
Steve represses the urge to ask what you mean by close by choosing to slide a finger into you and suck on your clit. The tension in your stomach builds overwhelmingly fast. He increases his speed when a string of ‘Steve’ and ‘fuck’ falls mindlessly from your lips. That tension overflows as his tongue flicks your clit while he’s sucking on it. Your orgasm shakes your body but Steve doesn’t stop. After a few seconds it becomes overstimulating and you attempt to push his head away from you.
“Hold on,” he mutters, sliding his finger out. His tongue laps at your folds again causing you to squeal, the overstimulation making you giggle. “I’m sorry, you just taste so sweet. Are you okay?”
“I’m alright. You did really good.”
“Thank you..”
His eyes dart around the room nervously before landing on you. The corners of his lips turn up into a smile after he wipes his mouth dry with his hand. You return the smile as a means to comfort him and ease his nerves.
“Will you let me do something for you?”
“Oh… You don’t have to do that. I just wanted to please you,” he mumbles.
“Take your clothes off,“ you say with a smile still on your face.
He freezes for a second but then he stands to undress. You sit up as he slides his shirt and pants off, leaving his boxers for last. His thick, long cock springs up against his toned stomach when his boxers slide down his legs. It takes everything in you not to pounce on him right then.
“You wanna sit? Might be less overwhelming if you do.”
He hums his approval and sits next to you. After peppering kisses on his face and planting a few pecks to his lips, you slide off the bed and onto your knees between his legs.
“If you don’t like anything I do, tell me. I want you to be comfortable,” you say while taking his length in your hand.
The whimper that comes from him from just the smallest touch turns you on an unbelievable amount.
“Don’t think I’d dislike anything you could do to me,” Steve replies, voice almost faltering when you stroke him for the first time.
Your hand is soft and tight around his cock. He’d done this with his own hand a few times when he’d been too pent up, but it was nothing compared to when you did it. With perfect speed you pumped him in your hand. Occasionally your stroking would stop so you could glide a finger around his tip. His body shivers when you lick his shaft from the base to the tip. Then you slide as much of him as possible into your mouth; your head bobs up and down, cheeks hollowed out as you suck on him. His hand tangles in your hair and tugs gently. Steve almost comes undone when your hand strokes the bottom of his cock that wouldn’t fit in your mouth.
“O-oh my god,” he groans, the sensation almost too much for him. His hips bucked upwards in attempt to shove his cock deeper into your mouth, “y/n, baby, wait,” he stuttered.
You pull off of him quickly in worry that you’d overstimulated him. “What is it? Are you okay?”
“I’m..uhm…close. But I don’t want to be done yet,” he says with a frown, “feels too good and I want to make you finish again.”
“Don’t worry about me, sweet boy. It’s your first time.”
“But it makes me feel good to take care of you,” he cooed before taking your hand and leading you on top of him, your bare core resting on his throbbing cock.
He pulls your head down so your lips meet his in a passionate kiss. Instinctively your hips roll against his. His lips on yours, tongue fighting for dominance in your mouth, and feeling of his length rubbing against your clit was delicious. He slides between your folds, his tip occasionally teasing your entrance when you move a certain way.
“Want you, Stevie,” your whimper against his lips when he pulls away.
“You have me, sweetheart.”
That same innocent smile he’s flashed many times tonight tells you that he doesn’t understand what you meant. Steven wasn’t dumb by any means, he just wasn’t experienced; you made him nervous too.
“I know. But right now I want you inside of me, if that makes sense.”
Realization shows on his features, brows furrowing only for a moment. “It does,” he declares after a few seconds.
You smile before crawling towards the center of the bed and laying on your back. He waits for you to get comfortable before positioning himself between your legs.
“I’m not gonna hurt you?”
“It’s like earlier, remember? It won’t hurt if I’m wet enough.”
He then dips his fingers down to gently run them through your folds. Steve frowns when he feels that you’re not dripping as you were earlier, “did I do something wrong, Honey? You’re not as wet.”
“It’s nothing you did, I promise. Sometimes you don’t stay wet if you’re not being pleasured or touched.”
As dramatic as it seems, his heart drops. He wasn’t making you feel good the whole time? Did you not enjoy pleasuring him?
“I wasn’t making you feel good?”
“No! You were. It’s just that while I was going down on you, you weren’t touching me, so I just didn’t stay wet. You cleaned me up with your mouth beforehand pretty well too.”
He ponders and almost gets lost in the thought of how his tongue felt buried deep in your warm cunt. “Right. Well I’m going to take care of you every second from now on. I have to make my baby feel good.” He grins as he plants a kiss on your nose.
His tone makes you giggle, the surge of confidence not matching his delivery. “Where’d that come from?”
“It was a poor attempt to be more assertive, you seem to like that.”
You look around the room, trying to avoid his gaze. His observation wasn’t something you expected him to notice. How silly of you to think he wouldn’t notice something about you.
“You do, don’t you? Is that why you didn’t stay wet for me? You like to be handled rough and I’m too innocent for you?” Steve’s questions bore into you and you struggle to conjure up an answer. “Look at me, y/n,” he says, fingers carefully pulling your chin to the side to make you face him, “can I fuck you?”
“Please.”
He rubs his tip up your warmth. He has to bite his lip when he slides into you to prevent himself from making any noise. His body stills when his cock bottoms out inside of you.
“O-oh,” he sighs softly, “y/n, fuck.”
Once he sees that you’re not hurting he begins to slowly thrust in and out of you. You feel so warm and soft on him and he has to prevent the urge to pound into you relentlessly. He thrusts into you slowly, trying to keep some sort of rhythm but faltering due to the new sensation.
“You’re so… So fuckin’ tight, shit. You feel so good around me, angel.”
After a few seconds he’s able to hold a decent pace. The tip of his cock brushes your g-spot and you bite down on his shoulder to muffle your moan.
“No,” he pulls your face away from him, “want to hear your pretty noises.”
A whimper falls from your parted lips. You feel him throb inside of you and Steve, once again, has to hold himself back when he feels your walls clench around him again. Now it’s become obvious that he’s holding back. His body is tense and his movements are becoming less in sync.
“Steve.”
He ignores you, continuing to fuck into you while placing kisses on your neck and shoulder.
“Steven, stop.”
His motions stop immediately and his eyes frantically scanning you for any sign of distress or pain. When he doesn’t see any, he tilts his head in confusion, “doll? Is everything okay?”
“You tell me,” you press a kiss to his lips before grinding down on him to keep him hard, eliciting a whimper from him, “you’re holding back, Steve. You don’t have to do that with me. You’re not gonna break me”
He ponders for a moment before looking at you again, “are you sure..? I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m going based off instinct but all I want to do is fuck you into this mattress and-“
Your lips attached to his, roughly moving against his, and he melts into the kiss. Slowly he begins to thrust into you again. This time his movements are rougher and harder. His hips start to buck into you faster, pressure building in your stomach. It only takes about a minute before he’s pounding into you. His pace is unforgiving and you’re a moaning mess underneath him. Your fingernails rake his back, probably leaving bright red scratches, and his disgruntled groans and grunts are only muffled by his lips occasionally attaching to yours.
“You take me so well,” he gasps upon feeling you tighten around him yet again. Reaching a hand down to rub your clit he locks eyes with you, “s’like you were made for me, honey.”
His tip hits that same spot again, repeatedly rubbing it. Your body jerks, your back arching off the bed.
"Want me to keep fucking you like this? Am I making you feel good now?" he taunts.
You don’t even manage to get a word out because as soon as he takes note of how to make his cock pound into your g-spot, he does it. You can feel him smirk against your neck before sucking on your collarbone. As if it was possible, his speed increases. A tight knot forms and he presses down to run his thumb over your clit. He leans down to place a rough kiss to your lips, tongue running over your bottom lip begging for entry. You allow it and your tongues tangle together in a sloppy kiss. He pulls out of you abruptly.
“Stevie,” you whine at the loss of contact.
“Get on top of me,” he demands as he lays beside you.
You look at him in confusion at his change demeanor, “but don’t you want to-“
“I wanna see all of you when you come undone on my cock, baby.”
You hesitate for a minute before obeying his wishes. Your legs straddle him, his length prodding your entrance. His hands grip your waist and guide you down onto him. The feeling of his thickness reentering you has you reeling. Steve’s mouth hangs agape momentarily when you’re sat all the way down, a deep grunt forcing it’s way out of him. He uses his grip on your waist to move you around on his shaft- you’re not sure you could’ve moved otherwise anyways.
“I love you, I love you,” he whispers repeatedly like it’s a prayer in between kisses he presses all over your chest.
“I-I love you too. You’re doing so well, making me feel s’good, Stevie,” you coo as you place a kiss to his forehead.
“I feel like..like I’m gonna…,” Steve struggles to piece the words together as you meet his hips, thrusting with him in sync.
“You can cum inside of me. It’s okay. You can let go.”
With your permission, he does just that. Spurts of his hot seed fill your swollen cunt. He throbs inside of you as he empties himself out. He feels you slow down to eventually stop riding him.
“Don’t stop, you’re gonna finish too,” he says through gritted teeth.
His first time and he’s worried about your pleasure too. He’s overworking himself through his first shared orgasm but only focuses on how he can keep making you feel good.
“Steven, stop. You don’t have to keep going.”
Before you could say anything else, he pulls your upper half towards him, careful not to mess up the rhythm at which he was fucking you. His mouth sucks one of your nipples in. His tongue swirls around it, sucking and licking the hardened peace. Then his free hand dips down to rub circles onto your sensitive clit. You whimper and tangle your fingers into his hair to pull on it. You curse under your breath at the overstimulation, feeling your orgasm approach quickly.
“Come on, baby. I know you have another in you,” he urges.
He comes back up to place a rough kiss against your lips while he pounds into you, keeping the same speed and pressure on your clit. The mix of pleasure he was giving you sends you over the edge. You ride out your high while still bouncing slowly on him as he continued to thrust. He watches your face closely so he doesn’t miss a single expression. Steve pulls out slowly but immediately when he hears your almost pained whimpers.
“That’s a good girl,” he purrs.
His hand is brushing your hair back and his lips are peppering soft pecks all over your face. He pulls you off of him to lay you down next to him. Your head rests on his chest to listen to his heartbeat. He covers both of you with a spare fluffy blanket he keeps at the end of the bed. You feel warm and comfortable, the contentment of being satisfied was setting in.
“Are you comfortable?”
You frown upon hearing his question, “I’m okay. It was your first time and I didn’t help a lot, are you okay?”
“Oh, honey,” he smiles softly, “I’m more than okay. Thank you for showing me how to make you feel good. I love you, y/n, and I really mean that.”
“I love you too, Stevie.”
“You should get some rest. I’m gonna want more of you tomorrow,” you giggle, burying your face in his neck.
He holds you close with a protective arm thrown over you. He sighs to himself in exhaustion.
“My best girl,” he mumbles into your hair, “all mine.”
The pair of you fall asleep a few minutes later. He’s got you held close to him, right where you belong. You’ve had him and now he finally got you all to himself.
OH MY FUCKING GOD IM SPEECHLESS RIGHT NOW HOLY FUCKING SHIT. THE WAY EACH OF THEM ARE SOOOOOO AMAZING IM OBSESSED. O B S E S S E D.
im so in love with all of them i wanna look at these forever this is more than amazing. steve holding her in her arms in front of everyone??? and ransom being a bit soft and wanting to spoil her?? ANDY AS THE TEACHER????? ASKING HER IS SHES GONNA BE A GOOD STUDENT FOR HIM??? jake blushing?? and johnny giving her his cap oh my god 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
a/n: English is not my first language, meaning you will probably find a lot of misspelling etc.
“Ouch” Lloyd says, pulling his hand to his chest, looking at the spatula in your hand “that hurt”.
You roll your eyes at him with a smirk before continuing making the cake, “I told you that you can’t eat the cake batter”. Lloyd huffs and sits down on the counter opposite from you. He watches you stirring the pot while swinging his legs.
A pout forms on his lips “But why? You already made two cakes, Sunshine. Can I just have a little taste, please?”. You slightly turn your head to see Lloyd giving you his best puppy dog look, trying to convince you to give him some.
“Lloyd, you will get to eat some cake later. Not now. Also, eating raw cake batter is not good for you” you say as you pour the batter in the cake form.
A groan leaves Lloyd’s mouth, and he dramatically lets his upper body lay down on the counter. He just wants some cake. Normally, he only gets that dramatic when he doesn’t get a taste of you.
“We used to eat raw cake batter all the time at Harvard. Why can’t we now? That’s not fair” he says, jumping down from the counter. “I even promise to not smear some on your face”. Some hope is still in Lloyd that you give in.
At that you chuckle, “Sorry, Moonlight, but I don’t want to risk you getting sick or that something goes wrong with the cake”.
“Oh, come on” Lloyd says, opening the oven for you to put the cake in. “The other two cakes turned out good. A bit of missing batter wouldn’t have ruined the cake”. He closes the oven after you put it in before wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you back into his chest. You giggle when his mustache tickles the weak spot on your neck. He starts to sway from foot to foot with you in his arms. You lean your head back on his chest and close your eyes.
A smile plasters on Lloyd’s face. “Don’t worry” he begins, “everything is going to be perfect”. He places a soft kiss against your temple.
You give him a quiet sound of acknowledgment. “Everything has to be perfect”. If this day doesn’t go as planned, you could never forgive yourself for messing up. If someone else ruins this day, you will kill them. It’s not every day that your baby turns one.
It’s LJ’s first birthday, and you have been planning this day for a long time. You spend months deciding what theme it’s going to be, what cakes should be served, who will be there, the presents and more. You spend a month alone looking for the best five stars bakers to make cakes for that day. Lloyd thinks he has never seen you this mad when the baker you chosen said he didn’t have time that day. He may or may have not threatened to cut his balls off and make cake pops with them if he didn’t bake that cake.
Best husband.
The smile on your face when Lloyd told you that the baker just mixed up the dates and actually has time was something beyond happy.
Therefore Lloyd is that confused and mad that he can’t have some cake. So far you baked three cakes and more cake will be here shortly. He needs some sugar.
While you were spending months planning this birthday, Lloyd just stood next to you, letting you be in your fixation. For once, he didn’t get why you were making such a big deal. LJ was only 3 months old at the time, but perhaps it was also because he was scared to tell you to calm down. Obviously, he knows that the first birthday is somehow special, but overall it’s just a birthday. This doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t have made all of his staff decorate the whole place and spend thousand and million dollars on his son’s birthday presents. Lloyd just wouldn’t be that stressed about that day.
He would still kill anyone that dares to ruin this day.
The more the relationship with his son grew, the more he realized LJ deserves everything in this world and there is nothing he won’t do to make that possible. If one of the staff or his minions makes LJ cry, they can prepare to get their organs taken out and limbs cut off.
Lloyd is trying really hard to be dad of the year.
While he is trying to be dad of the year, he knows that mom of the year already goes to you. The title already belonged to you before LJ was even born.
A staff ruins Lloyd’s and yours moment as they walk in and inform you that the cakes are here. Lloyd groans again as you jump out of his arms and make your way to the kitchen on the first floor. He sends the staff a glare, making them almost piss themselves before following you.
When he comes downstairs, he already sees people bringing in cake and decorating the place.
“Put those fucking balloons over there, shithead!” Lloyd screams as they hang some balloons near the food table. They quickly scramble around, moving the balloons. “Fucking idiots”.
Lloyd snatches a strawberry from the fruit table and pops it into his mouth, while taking in the scene. If Lloyd didn’t know what was going on, he would think the apocalypse was about to start. He’s almost 100% sure that you made them get all panicked by pressuring them. Though it could also be his heavily armed men standing at each window that are making them that nervous. Lloyd shrugs his shoulders. As long as they do their job it doesn’t concern him if they are close to passing out.
“Lloyd!”
He jumps up from where he is standing and jocks in your direction. You are standing in front of a table with furrowed brows.
“Yes, sunshine” he says, standing next to you, hands behind his back, “what’s the matter? Who do I need to kill?”. Lloyd leans over your shoulder, nose brushing over your cheek as he inhales your smell.
“Do you like the gold or silver stars more?” you say, not acknowledging his action. Lloyd rests his head on your shoulder before moving closer to the table. “The silver one fits the blue aesthetic more and is more simple, but the problem is that simple is boring. The gold stars are more shiny and bring in a specific ‘wow’ effect, but they don’t match the aesthetic”.
One thing Lloyd will never get tired of is your look for the details. You could paint a portrait of him and won’t show him till you have every single freckle, beauty mark, hair, small scar on the canvas. Though, you don’t have to paint every single wrinkle.
“I like the gold ones. They scream more Hansen” Lloyd says with a cocky smirk.
You look at his choice before nodding and calling over the staff to hang the gold stars up. “If it weren’t for LJs birthday decoration, I would say your ego is showing again” you say, pointing to the staff in which places they should hang them up. Lloyd’s gasp jokingly and places his hand on his chest.
“Sunshine, that’s mean”
“It’s the truth, Moonlight” you say, “your ego is as big as your dick”. A gasp leaves your mouth as Lloyd suddenly grasps you and pulls you into his chest hard, not budging even as you try to get out of his right embrace.
“No no no, Mrs Hansen” he tuts with a low voice, “You know you can’t just talk about my big boy without any action”. Lloyd’s one hand moves to your ass and gives it a good squeeze, while his other hand takes your hand and brings it towards his covered member. “Sunshine”.
In quick motion Lloyd’s Hand on your ass moves to the back of your head and pulls you forward. Your second gasp gets muffled by his lips smacking against yours, teeth clashing together. Lloyd is full on making out with you, not caring about others watching you two. They can watch all they want. Lloyd couldn’t give a fuck less, as long as you’re not naked. He loves touching you in front of others, showing everyone that you belong to him and ONLY him. You’re his and his alone. You belong to him.
Lloyd walks forward, caging you in between the table and him. A simply move of Lloyd’s arm and you are sitting on the table with him between your legs. He grabs your legs and pulls you closer. Out of instinct, you wrap your legs around his waist.
It seems like Lloyd finally gets some attention from you.
Until both of your phones vibrate at the same time. You pull away from the kiss and Lloyd chases your lips, not being finished with the kiss. He needs another taste of your soft lips and peach flavored chapstick. Sadly though, he only gets to touch your finger, which you stopped him from kissing you again, while you pull out your phone and look at it. You open your phone and see that LJ woke up. Both you and Lloyd can check the cameras and will always get a notification when LJ starts to wake up.
“Looks like the Birthday boy is awake” you say and pat Lloyd’s shoulder as you stand up, giving Lloyd a little peck on the lips before he can grumble again. “You coming, daddy?”.
He smiles at the peck and you calling him that “Stop teasing me that much, Sunshine” Lloyd says tilting his head. He watches you giving him a sunny smile, feeling the warmth of your happiness consume him. Lloyd walks over to you and takes your hand in his one, interlocking your pinkies and kissing it. “Let’s wake up our boy” he says before walking with you upstairs to LJ’s nursery.
A big smile greats you as you open the door, two chubby fingers pointing at you two.
“Maaaaa” LJ says, giving a lopsided grin.
You feel Lloyd roll his eyes before moving towards his son. “Well good morning to you too, superstar” he says. He keeps on telling himself that LJ will eventually learn to say Dada, Dad, Daddy, Papa, hell, he would even be ok with LJ calling him Pops.
LJ raises his arms as his dad comes closer. Lloyd picks him up and tickles his little belly, resulting in LJ letting out high giggles and squeals.
“Happy Birthday, bubba!” you say, kissing his cheek. Lloyd smiles and gives him to you as LJ reaches for you. Ones in your arms, LJ immediately snuggles into the crock of your neck. Such a mama boy.
“You are already one now! Only six more years and I can legally show you how to shoot” Lloyd says cheerfully, but quickly shutting up when you send him a death glare, “Of course only when Mama allows it”.
“Which she won’t”
“Yes, what Mama says is law” Lloyd says, “but legally it would be allowed-“
“Lloyd”
“Yeah, you’re right, no weapons”
You give him a satisfied nod and Lloyd you a thump up. We need to appreciate, though, that Lloyd would have waited till LJ was legally allowed to do that. For a sociopath who’s a hitman and more, who doesn’t go by the law, this is a big thing. For ones, he would have followed the law.
You look in LJ’s eyes, smiling brightly, “I promise you will have the best birthday ever. We have some shiny lights and cake. Oh, and we can’t forget your presents, superstar”. LJ already claps his hands and wiggles out of excitement after you said shiny. “First, we need to get you ready though”.
A soft smile decorates Lloyd’s face as he makes his way towards LJ’s closet.
A knock fills the room before the door opens and one of the staff pops their head in.
“I-I’m so sorry to interrupt, Mr. and Mrs. Hansen, but we just got notified that the flowers won’t get delivered because the driver is sick” the staff stutters out in one go without taking a breath. They know that Mr. and the Mrs. won’t be happy about that. And well, they are scared that Mr. or Mrs. Hansen will cut off their head and send it to the company that were supposed to deliver the plants.
“What!” you and Lloyd say at the exact same time.
You hush LJ as he whines due to the loud noise, gently swaying him. Lloyd, on the other hand, doesn’t show any calmness in that situation and strikes towards the staff, making them hunch together.
“What do you mean by that?! That fucker can’t bring the flowers because his pathetic ass had to sneeze and immediately came to the conclusion that he was dying?!” Lloyd says through grit teeth, “I will cut that limp dicks face off and sew it back on backwards, then he will have some problems with his nose!”
“He has 104 F-“
“Do I look like I give a single fuck that this dick chocking piece of shit is dying of a fever?! No! Why can’t they send someone else, huh?!”
“They only have one dr-“
“I’ll blow their fucking company up and every single family member of the employees if the flowers aren’t here in the next 10 minutes!” Lloyd screams.
“I-I tell them that, M-Mr. Hansen” they say before quickly walking out, asking themself why they work here.
Lloyd’s face is red like the fuckers blood he killed at 2am, before he went to bed only to be woken up by you three hours later. A small whine makes his face fall and turn around to see LJ with teary eyes. His face quickly cools down as he walks over to the two of you.
“Oh, I’m sorry, junior. Dada didn’t mean to be that loud” Lloyd says softly, rubbing LJ’s back. If there is one thing LJ is scared of the most or hates is loud noises. If Lloyd wasn’t that loud, LJ would have probably even laughed because he loves seeing his dad put people in their place, especially while swearing. He may be a mama boy, but with his father’s love for hating people.
As expected, LJ clings to you closer, hiding his face in your chest. Lloyd finally looks at you and knows that you aren’t happy.
“I thought we talked about the swearing, Moonlight” you say in a soft voice, looking at him with a disappointed expression. He knows you aren’t directly disappointed in him rather, just not exactly happy that he did it in front of LJ again. “You know you have to put something in the swear jar”.
Lloyd doesn’t know how much money he had already put in the swear jar since your pregnancy, but he swears a lot and only carries hundred-dollar bills with him. He would say he’s still under a million though…..barely. Though, this jar is only for when he swears in front of LJ.
“I know, I know, sunshine” he says and kisses your temple. “Though I know you would have done the same if LJ wasn’t here”, he gives you a knowing look.
“Oh, I would have definitely screamed like that” you say, nodding while continuing to calm your baby down.
“Don’t worry, I will take care of it, sunshine” Lloyd says.
“No, it’s fine. I will” you give him LJ, who slightly protests against leaving the warmth of mama, but some comforting words and kisses eventually convince him to let go and calm down. “Would you mind getting him ready for the day?” you ask, opening the door.
“Dressing up my beloved Hansen Junior like his dada? Can’t think of anything better” he says and sways a bit. “I mean except-“.
“Thank you, Lloyd” you say, cutting him off, knowing exactly what he wanted to add, “love you”.
“Love you too, my beloved sunshine” he says as you walk out of the room, blowing you a kiss. Lloyd watches you close the door before looking down at his son, who is still looking at the door. “Don’t worry, once you’re ready for the day we see Mama downstairs” Lloyd says, caressing LJ’s blond almost white hair.
“Mama” LJ says, pointing towards where you went, while looking at his dad.
“Soon” Lloyd answers, chuckling at his son’s pouting and gives him Mr Mustache from the crib, which LJ immediately takes. He walks with LJ in his arms towards the closet, filled with various of different baby clothes of LJ. Surprisingly, not everything in the closet are designer clothes, some of it are from what Lloyd likes to call ‘the degenerated section’. If it wasn’t for you, Lloyd would’ve burned those clothes by now. Not because they are ugly, Lloyd has to admit they are actually pretty cute, but because people who are way below his money income also dress their kids like that.
Among those designer and cheaper baby clothes, there is also handmade stuff like sweatshirts, pants, jackets, hats and more. All of them are well knitted and made out of colorful wool. The thing is that not you made those clothes, but Lloyd did. He took his time knitting for hours to make adorable stuff for LJ to wear. If someone ever asks Lloyd though, he would deny immediately. He would say that he never even touched a needle and that knitting is some grandma shit. People would probably believe him…as long as you don’t show them some photos to prove that Lloyd knits in his free time.
“Now, my little superstar, what are we going to wear today?” Lloyd asks, to which LJ just snuggles into his chest. “I think my clothes are a bit too big for you” he says chuckling. He looks through the closet and takes out a little fluffy sweatshirt.
“This looks cute” the grunt LJ gives is answer enough. “Yeah, you’re right, it’s be a bit to warm too wear a sweatshirt“ he says and puts it away, continuing his search.
Next, he takes a blue romper from the hanger. “What about this? It’s nice but a bit boring, don’t you think?” he says, raising a judging brow at the romper. LJ nods in agreement.
Lloyd continues and grabs a baby tuxedo that he got custom made to fit LJ perfectly a while ago. “Oh, doesn’t this look good? A fudging expensive suit that fits this mini Hansen perfectly. You will get all the ladies and whor- wonderful people with it” he says smugly, saving himself at the end of the sentence.
Mini Hansen looks at the tuxedo for a second, inspecting it with his big eyes. His eyebrows furrow a bit of concentration, which makes him look like you when you concentrate on a painting. Lloyd smiles at the similarity between you two. Even though the furrowing of the eyebrows is from you, the look in LJs eyes is fully Lloyd Hansen. The judgmental stare that makes you question your existence and everything else. It’s like LJ is giving the bitch look with brows that give him a more innocent look, like he isn’t just thinking that you look like poop.
“Mhm, what do you say, junior?”
LJ shacks his head and scrunches his face, whining and clinging to his dad’s polo.
Lloyd gasps “not this one?! Look it may look uncomfortable, but it’s actually pretty comfy” he says to which his son begins to kick his feet and slap his chubby hands against his dad’s chest. Lloyd huffs, LJ for sure, is a picky and stubborn baby.
“No no no no, what did we say about hitting dada? You are not allowed to kick or slap him. LJ, look at me” Lloyd moves LJ in his arms to get him to look at him “are you listening to dada?”.
LJ’s lower lip begins to quiver and Lloyd sighs “Look, if you stop hitting dada I put that suit away, deal?”. His son looks at him like he grew another head before, pointing to the closet. “Yes, I get you something else to wear when you stop”.
He looks at his dad for another second and then nods and stops trashing in Lloyd’s arms. Lloyd smiles, happy that his son agreed. He hangs the tuxedo away and stares at the walk-in closet. There are a lot of options, but nothing that fits the occasion. It can’t be something to ‘normal’, but also not too fancy. Walking through the closet , he sees nothing that catches his eyes or what LJ would approve of.
Lloyd’s attention gets drawn back down to his son as he pulls on his polo and points to something. “This?” he asks and grabs what LJ pointed at. LJ pointed at a dark blue sleeveless romper that he knitted awhile ago. To be more specific, he knitted the romper, among other things, while he wasn’t allowed to sleep with you for two months. He had a lot of time for knitting and jerking off to the image of you on your knees in front of the mirror, back to his chest while he fucks into you hard and fast, forcing loud moans out of you.
He grabs the romper and smiles. “You like stuff dada makes” Lloyd says. LJ claps and smiles, happy that his dad is holding the right thing. “You should really act like that about me around Mama, you know?”
On his way outside the closet, Lloyd grabs a white polo onesie, bouncing his son in his arms. “Then let’s change this man’s diaper and hope you didn’t cause a natural disaster in there” he says as he lays LJ down and puts Mr Mustache to the side.
Lloyd says a quick prayer to god before starting to change LJ’s diaper, that he will not get attacked by a poop bomb.
Luckily it’s not that big of a natural disaster, just a tsunami.
“Perhaps we should change your meal plan”
“Don’t pout”
“Come on, junior. Don’t cry. Mr Mustache is right here”
“Don’t kick your legs!”
“Stop that, Lloyd Junior!”
“I have shit on my hand!”
“Ahhhh!”
“Don’t laugh, junior!”
“I’m gonna throw up”
After changing LJ’s diaper and quickly washing and sanitizing his hands in LJ’s bathroom, he comes back and begins to finally dress LJ.
With slight struggle, he manages to get LJ’s head through the onesie. LJ hates when his head has to go through that. Lloyd smiles as he sees his son’s scrunched-up face turns happy when he sees him again.
“Well hello there, junior” he says in a high voice and LJ gives him a lopsided smile. Luckily, LJ doesn’t struggle as Lloyd puts on his romper and white socks.
Lloyd picks LJ up and gives him Mr Mustache before making his way to LJ’s bathroom and sitting him down in front of the bathroom mirror, making him face the mirror. A protective hand is on LJs back to make sure he doesn’t fall back on accident.
“Let’s give you the final Hansen touch”. With his free hand, he takes a soft brush and begins brushing LJ’s few hairs.
LJ interrupts in loud giggles as his dad decides to show some of his dads moves while brushing the hair, singing Stayin’ Alive. The giggles turn into squeals as Lloyd brushes his mustache with the brush.
“Jealous, Junior?” Lloyd jokes and carefully brushes LJ’s upper lip, like he had a mustache too. This action makes LJ fart because of laughing so much.
Once done, Lloyd wipes LJ’s mouth, who covered himself in spit duo to his laughing and then picks him up and walks out of the room.
i cant put into words how obsessed i am with this version of lloyd. yeah maybe he is a psychopath but hes also the loml. the way hes so soft for junior and loves him so much its so 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹
and him KNITTING??? FOR HIS SON???? THE LLOYD HANSEN KNITTING??? this made me love him even more holy shit. AND HIM SINGING??? sir this should be illegal
Fixer Upper: The First Date - Mechanic!Curtis x Reader
A/N: The first date is here and of course I had to sneak in this prompt!
Summary: It’s finally time for your first date with the grumpy grimy mechanic
Word Count: 4.6k
Warnings: Alcohol Consumption! Innuendos! Fluff! Little bit of Grumpy Curtis!
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Masterlist / AU Masterlist
You were an anxious wreck, all week you had been surprisingly calm but now that it was Saturday afternoon the nerves hit you like a truck. Because today was the day you were finally going on a date with Curtis.
The plan was that you and Mollie would go out and buy you an outfit, yet on your shopping trip you couldn’t find anything. It didn’t help that you had no clue what you were going to be doing with Curtis. You didn’t want to dress for a fancy restaurant when you were actually taking another trip to the axe throwing range or vice versa.
So you told Mollie you were sure there was something in your closet you could wear. You were completely wrong, you had gone through every item of clothing you had, your wardrobe no longer residing in your closet, and there was nothing. Needless to say you were starting to freak out.
Desperate times called for desperate measures so you grabbed your phone and called for back-up.
“Mollie this is a code red, I repeat code red” you say as soon as the call connected.
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The new recruit has her eyes set of a certain set of super soldiers. Especially your super soldier.
warnings: jealously, Angsty bangsty, but also so fluffy fluffy and smutty, clueless Bucky, he really means no harm, go easy on him.
-
“Everyone, meet Nicole, our newest recruit for the field agent training program” Tony walked into the common room where you were sprawled out on the couch with Nat, Sam and Wanda while a young woman walking confidently behind him. “She’s going to be staying with us for a couple of months to train before she goes onto the the field” Tony turned back to her, bringing her to his side.
“I’m sure you know everyone but let me introduce you to them anyway. This is the very Natasha, Wanda, Sam and y/n”
“Hey Nicole” You gave her a warm smile, happy to welcome her while everyone else also got up to greet her. “Nice to meet you”
“Oh, ew, just call me Nic! I don’t really go by Nicole” She scrunched her face at the sound of her full name, her eyes scanning the room, clearly looking for someone. “Don’t suppose the very Captain America and Sergeant Barnes are here?”
long live natasha romanoff, what would we do without her??? anyway this was fantastic, i got tears in my eyes at some point but i couldnt stop smiling at bucky's confession
𝗔/𝗡 | this is my entry for @boxofbonesfic Friday the 13th Challenge, and I picked stalker. Here’s the Pinterest board. this is my first time participating in a challenge, so i'm a little nervous, but here we go !! this is a dark fic, the warnings have been given—if you don’t like it, don’t read. all mistakes are my own. [all asks & drabbles]
“I’ll call you when it’s fixed or if anything c-comes up…”
You nod, quickly gathering your things. His throat tightens, fingers itching for yours. “I-I could walk you home, I don’t have any more appointments today.”
“It’s fine. I live on campus.”
“But it’s getting dark—”
“I’m okay.” You repeat firmly, softening the blow with a smile, “but thank you, Ari, I appreciate it.”
You don’t give him another chance to protest and leave. When you step out, the smell of rain engulfs you, cool air washing away any traces of him, but your goosebumps never leave.
Whatever. At least it’s done.
You flip up your hood and start the short trek home, forcing yourself not to glance back—even though you just know he’s watching from the window.
Desperate times called for desperate measures, and since your coursework list was neverending, you had no choice but to book an appointment with the IT department. One click, one stupid click on a link was all it took for your laptop to go haywire and then completely unresponsive.
You couldn’t afford to miss another deadline, even if that meant sitting face-to-face with the campus outcast.
Nothing was wrong with being alone or preferring solitude, but Ari had a strange energy around him. It was suffocating and unsettling, either too quiet, too friendly, or too close.
There weren’t many places for him to hide with his towering height and broad stature, yet he blended in almost too naturally, adapting to the surrounding space as if he belonged there—when that was far from the truth. He didn’t belong anywhere, regardless of how hard he tried to pretend so.
The only tell was the feeling of being watched.
His blue eyes set in steely glare, dissecting you like one of those dead specimens on the aluminum tray.
You had a lab with him one year, and you remember the shivers crawling up your spine when he smiled and made his way over. You thank the universe every day that Natasha slid into the free chair and asked very loudly if you’d be her partner.
“He’s a fucking weirdo.” Natasha grumbled in disgust, glaring at his retreating back, “I don’t have to know him to know he’s into freaky shit.”
Rumours were always just gossip, ill judgment spreading around like wildfire but at this point, you’d believe anything about him, anything to fill that empty void of unease.
Was there any proof that he was into fucked up shit? Or that he was a dark web lurker or a disgusting pervert? No, but your gut told you to flee whenever he was around and that was enough.
Ari was a proud introvert, an odd balance between shy and awkwardly friendly. A small part of you pities him—the different, nerdy reject shrouded in alleged disturbed mystery. You’d never admit it but he was devilishly handsome and in an alternative dimension, he’d be exactly your type.
In any other classes you shared, you purposefully arrived late so he couldn’t sit next to you and so far, it’s kept him at bay. You felt weird around him but so did everyone else.
If there were something truly wrong with him, all of those lingering suspicions would’ve exposed him by now, or at least that’s what you tell yourself.
It was easy to blame everything on stress, the pressure of school and your impending future weighing heavy on your shoulders. Like most lonely nights, you dive into the virtual passions of the Internet.
With earbuds in, you scroll through the profiles, your gaze lingering on the lewd photos and biographies. One catches your attention, a little red ‘Top Hot 20’ pinned by the username and a teasing picture of flexed abs and a dark happy trail. You read over his most recent videos:
Jerking off and cumming in library (almost caught) – public masturbation
Dry humping girlfriend while she sleeps – dirty talk, cum shot
Clean runners softly pad on the carpet floor, the blanket is pulled back and exposes the girl’s backside. The dim flash barely illuminates her body, just an outline of her figure bathed in the moonlight. His big hand caresses her thighs, wasting no time in rubbing over her core.
Almost in a trance, you replicate his motions, tracing over your clothed slit as a quiet breath flutters from your lips, drowned out by his heavy groan.
“Look at you, all ready for daddy…” He rasps, his words slurred, “You knew what I needed tonight, huh?” He touches her petals, spreading the panty-clad folds, “Such a cute little pussy, Want me to fuck you?”
She sleepily rocks against his hand and he laughs, silencing her murmurs with a hand on her back. He manhandles her as he pleases, tossing pillows and blankets to the floor before straddling the back of her thighs.
You exhale and dip your fingers beneath the band of your underwear, seeking that needy bundle. Tingles fill your tummy while you circle your hole, gathering your juices up to your clit.
His fist squeezes his base and slides up to the angry red tip, smearing the pearly dribbles with his thumb. He’s thick and long, veins protruding from the smooth girth before disappearing under his bushy pubic hair. He grinds against her ass, his pre cum leaking all over her panties.
“You’re so fucking wet, I can smell you.”
With heavy groans, he rocks against her and the camera shakes. Primal thrusts slide his solid cock between her cheeks, staining the poor cotton. His big hand lands a series of harsh spanks, they’re so hard you feel the burning sensation too.
You fuck yourself with your fingers in time with his grinds and whine, imagining his fat length rubbing against you just like that.
“One of these days I’m gonna rub my sack all over your cunt. Get you all messy.” A forceful thrust sends the girl sliding a few inches up the bed. “Awh, you dropped your stuffie, little dummy.” He reaches out of the frame and returns with a stuffed animal.
It takes you less than a second to recognize the black and white spots. To your horror, he places the stuffie on a pillow and pets the head right between the small horns.
“There we go, gotta make sure Milky is watching. You gonna be quiet for me now, baby?” He laughs, “oh, why am I even asking? It’s not like you can wake up anyway.”
Your heart plummets to the ground, shattering every layer of the Earth until falling into the endless oblivion of space.
“Can’t wait to fuck your ass, maybe I’ll do it while you’re sleeping, just like how I ate your cute cunt.” He spits, roughly groping her—your flesh, “bet you woke up all sore. Was wondering why you were so sensitive, like someone tortured your pussy.” He curses lowly and his hips stutter, “sorry for bein’ so mean. You make me into a fucking animal.”
All air is yanked from your body when his cum spurts out, covering your panties and lower back. He groans shamelessly, jerking off with his own seed to expel every last drop before pulling down the back of your stained panties. He rubs it into your skin like a sick claim of ownership.
“I love you so much, baby. You have no fuckin’ clue.”
Despite the lightheadedness, you scroll to the comments. Every blink momentarily focuses your blurry vision on the bright screen:
Cute stuffed animal lol
should’ve taken her panties off. I wanted to see that pretty pussy
damn, she’s knocked out cold. How does she sound when she’s awake?
MrSinister: absolutely divine. She’ll be awake in my next video, I promise.
𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: my oh my 🫡 i feel very dirty, like i need to physically scrub my brain from this whore behaviour. happy Saturday besties.
𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! be sure to check out the other fics for bones' challenge !!
As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼
I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
origamiaround
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titsay
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