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retroellie · 3 months

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Polluted

Summary: After a long day of work, Spencer comes home and fucks his stresses away.

A/N: This was written in literally 45 minutes but I had this idea and I couldn't make it into a full fic, my mind could only think of the smut part lmao. Enjoy!!! :)

Warnings: NSFW, slapping, degradation, squirting, unprotected sex, mean!spencer

Word count: 1.9K

Prison changed Spencer Reid, plain and simple. This is not the man you came to love. He was cruel, possessive, completely and utterly damaged. You hoped that prison wouldn't taint Spencer too much, you hoped that he would continue to be sweet little Dr. Spencer Reid. But you knew what prison could do to a person, for you locked people up daily. You knew that the system would take Spencer's old soul and soft heart into its muddy hands, squeezing them until they became one. Although sometimes in the right lighting, in the right moment, you can see a hint of Spencer in his light brown eyes.

You can't say that you hated the change in Spencer, obviously there was much work to be done before Spencer could truly be himself again. However, you could live with this change. He was hungry, feeling as though your body was the only thing that could fill that hunger. It was extremely attractive to you, his sudden hunger for you. Spencer was always using you, using your body or your mouth or your hands... just you. There was always an excuse for him to be inside of you in his mind. A man thought of looking at you? He bent you over the kitchen table. You wore a shirt that showed a bit of your chest? He dragged you into the bathroom and forced you onto your knees. You smiled at him? He would shove his face between your thighs until you couldn't even see straight.

Even on the way back home after he had gotten out of prison, he bent you over the backseat on the side of the road and fucked you roughly. It felt like you were stepping on eggshells every time around him because you never know what can set him off... it was oddly scandalous, almost arousing as the thought of how he'd fuck you next was always on your mind. A big plus was that spencer dug himself into your brain, pulling out your deepest and darkest kinks, and using them to give you earth-shattering, mind-blowing, life-changing orgasms. Now you don't think you two could ever go back to just plain sex. He had ruined you, ruined your body so much that only the thought of being hurt could get you off now.

"Fucking bitch..." Spencer spat out, his hand spreading your legs further open as his cock drilled into your soaked cunt. "That bitch looked at me like I was fucking stupid..."

His words came out breathy and jagged as he fucked into you at an animalistic pace. Spencer came home today upset, his tie being ripped off and thrown down as soon as he got into the door. You knew something was up by this action, but also the look on his face. He seemed to have a frown sewn onto his face, something that he wore most days. You asked what was wrong but you were met with him ripping off your clothes, hinting that he didn't want to talk but to fuck his frustrations into you. Now here you were, panties ripped off, legs wide open, Spencer deep inside you with his hand placed on your neck.

You couldn't tell how many times you came just in this position alone, you couldn't keep count. His hand gripped your through, affecting the way your brain functioned. You felt with every thrust of Spencer's hips you would lose brain cells... creating the dumb cock whore that Spencer ached to achieve. Spencer's hand applied more pressure to your throat as he thought of what happened at work, how while section chief Erin Strauss critiqued his work, people were being murdered.

"As if my 187 IQ wasn't enough for her." He started, his hand on your thigh being slammed down past your face and into the wooden table he was drilling you into. " I mean, I've been at this place for over 10 years... I know what I'm fucking doing"

You came again, not able to keep yourself from unraveling now. His hand on your throat was constricting your moans, completely silencing them as the only thing that could come out of your mouth was soft gurgles. You loved this feeling, knowing that at any moment if you didn't like it you could alert Spencer and he'd stop immediately. I guess you could say that Spencer's care for you never disappeared after prison, he would go on to say that it strengthened his love for you. He had this picture of you that you had sent him in one of your many letters, he kept it with him everywhere he went for it was the only thing that kept him sane.

One time a fellow inmate saw it, snatched it from him, and digested every single inch of you. He went on to explain the disgusting things he would do to you if he got the chance, that is exactly why Spencer came home to fuck you nice and good every night. Because if he wasn't the one to do it, he knew that other people would take you for granted, they would spend only minutes with you... ignoring what you needed and taking what they wanted. You would feel incomplete, unsatisfied, and completely in denial that love existed. You would assume love was only made for books and movies, that no one could show you the love you deserved. This is the love you deserve. You deserve a love that could have you coming undone over and over again, a harsh and mean kind of love but that always ended with soft kisses and a nice hot bath. A love that was sour at first but ended sweet, making sure that the words "i love you" were carved onto your skin.

"You wouldn't do that would you?" He whispered into your ear, his grip on your throat as he waited for your response. " You don't think I'm stupid ...hmm?"

His cock was too deep inside you, it was deep enough to have you going cross-eyed and unable to speak. Your moans became audible now, no longer being stuck in your throat due to his pressure being released. His pace was still inhumanly fast, not stopping even for a second. The table had started to shit forward, being scrapped across the floor and probably worrying the downstairs neighbors. You were on the verge of cumming again, your mind not even able to comprehend his question until you felt a harsh sting on your cheek. Spencer had slapped you across the face, growing impatient while waiting for your answer.

"Answer me...." He hissed out, leaning down and taking his lips to yours. He bit down on your lip, creating a pain that shot through your body. "Or I'm going to make you cum over and over and over again until you can't think of anything else besides my cock deep inside your tight little pussy..."

You could taste blood now, your lip bleeding and seeping into your mouth. His words created this deep, rough knot in your stomach. It wasn't like the rest of the orgasms you had tonight, no it was more intense. It hurt, painful with every thrust of his cock. It created a deep pain and pleasure dynamic in your body but felt like something was trying to claw itself out of your body.

"Fuck..." You screamed out, grabbing onto him and digging your fingernails into his back. "No I wouldn't! Fuck... I wouldn't! I won't!"

You finally replied, hoping with those words he would deepen his thrust if that was even possible. Spencer just grinned down at you, placing his head in between your shoulder blade and your neck. He set soft kisses to the skin, his warm lips against your burning skin. Spencer was close, your words pushing him further to the edge. The feeling inside your stomach didn't stop or dull, it only got worse. You were screaming now, Spencer's hand lingering on your neck but sitting gently on your skin. Spencer picked up his speed, the table scraping against the floor even harder.

You couldn't handle it, everything around you becoming so far away yet being so close. The feeling got to a point of feeling terrifyingly painful but also so potent of pleasure and so bewitching that you didn't want it to end now. A couple more of Spencer's deep and harsh thrusts sent you over the edge, the painful knot in your stomach snapping and shooting liquid out of your body. It was the first time you had ever squirted, the feeling so glorious that you wished it would happen every time. Your vision went out, only seeing light and hearing Spencer's soft moans as he finished inside of you. The world felt like it ended, nothing to be seen or to be experienced... just emptiness but complete fullness all at the same time.

"Good girl..." You heard Spencer's words echo through your now-empty mind. You couldn't tell if your eyes were closed or not. "You did so good for me honey... I'm so proud of you."

Those single words were all you needed to hear as you floated back to earth and into your body, you blinked a couple times... forgetting where and who you were for a split second. You came back to see Spencer brushing your hair back from your sweaty face, his face inches from yours as his face filled with concern that maybe he had broken you finally.

"There she is..." He chuckled softly, kissing your lips softly. " There's my girl..."

You gave him a weak smile, raise your hand to rest on his cheek. You rubbed it softly, feeling the growing stubble on his face. He was just as sweaty as you, his body hot to the touch. You two probably looked insane, one of you barely able to walk looking beat the hell up and the other one scratched up and drenched with liquids. Spencer gently slid himself out of you, watching you wince softly as it felt like he was connected to you at this point.

"Sorry..." He whispered, taking your hand in his as he rubbed your thigh gently "I was too rough huh?"

Rough was not even close to what Spencer was. He was brutal, sadistic, barbaric but you couldn't deny that you would choose it over compassion any day. You began to think that maybe prison was the best thing that could've happened to Spencer Reid, not only was he a genius but he now had a powerful glow to him. Shy kisses and longing gazes were a thing of the past for you two, Spencer knew what he wanted and he was going to get it.

"You were just rough enough..." I chuckled, feeling nothing but content and at peace in this moment.

Spencer laughed with you, pecking your lips one last time before pulling away from you. He looked around, his eyes landing on the couch. He smiled, walking over and leaving you but only for a second. He came back with a blanket, wrapping it around you then picking you up bridal style. You thanked him silently because you knew there was no way you were getting off the table without some kind of help.

"To the bath you go..." He joked, holding you close to him as he walked you to your shared bathroom.

You looked into his eyes and at the right lighting, the right moment, you looked into his light brown eyes... realizing that this is Spencer Reid. This is Spencer Reid damaged, polluted, and bruised... but it was still the man you fell in love with all those years ago.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler

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midnightwriter21 · 1 year

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demon slayer hcs: the hashira men having a demon!SO that’s immune to sunlight pt.1

characters: fem!reader x rengoku, giyuu

PT 2 with Sanemi HERE

AN: the long awaited request is finally here!! sorry for the delay! im in college and finals week was crazy! but the semester is over and i'm ready to get back to it with a bunch of new content for you guys! <3

RENGOKU

when he comes home from a mission to find the house completely trashed and a trail of blood leading to the bedroom he freezes

his first thought is that you're dead

someone or something has broken in

and he wasn't here to protect you

immediately blames himself

and poor kyo just can't force himself to walk in the bedroom only to discover your broken bleeding body

his heart couldn't take it

its not until he hears movement and small noises of pain that he pushes the bedroom door open

only to discover you hiding in the corner of the room covered with a blanket

relief

until he pulls the blanket from your head to see what you've turned into

he doesn't react

doesn't talk

doesn't move

doesn't even breathe

just stares at you

until you manage to croak out his name

this snaps his mind into high gear

immediately thoughts of the young Kamado girl are running through his head

she has never hurt a human and seems to do just fine

and if you were going to harm him you would have done it already

quickly pulls you into his arms, making sure to avoid the sunlight peaking through the curtains and carries you to the bed to set you down

scribbles a note to the head of the corps to inform him of your condition

and spends the rest of the day and that night comforting and reassuring you because of what had to have been a traumatic night

a week or so passes

you fall back into your old routine of caring for the house

and its quite obvious that you're becoming depressed

no longer able to enjoy the warmth of the sun and being cooped up in the house for your own safety

it isnt until a young man wearing the head of a boar bursts headfirst through the window

breaking the glass, ripping down the curtains

with a "comin through!"

that you realize the sunlight doesn't harm you like it does to other demons

leave it to inosuke lmao

when kyo returns home from another mission around noon

imagine his surprise when his demon SO bursts through the front door into the sun

and into his arms

takes a minute for him to process that you're not burning up

"oh my god we have to get you inside NOW"

the poor man is having a heartattack

but then he sees your smile and hears your laugh for the first time since the attack

finally he's able to realize that the sun has no effect on you

and he's picking you up and swinging you around in a giant hug

i just know he gives the best hugs

i'd let him crush me to death in one

of course kyo is still sometimes crushed with guilt

he blames himself for your transformation in the first place

but the most important thing is that you're safe and happy again

GIYUU

why can't this man ever just be happy

when you don't show up at your usual meeting place with Giyuu in between missions he knows somethings up

he rushes to your home

and there you are

sitting on the steps in front of your house

covered in blood and in tears

it isn't until he gets closer that he realizes what has happened

he has no words

everyone that giyuu has ever loved has been taken from him

and he allowed himself to love you

thats why this has happened

blames himself even though it obviously not his fault

still not speaking he looks at the sky to see the sun

and then back at you

a demon

who isn't affected by the sunlight in the slightest

and isn't attacking him

and then he disappears

when he returns several hours later it's dark outside

and with him he's brought Shinobu and the Kamado siblings

one of which is a demon

Shinobu checks you over and determines that the blood you are covered in is indeed yours

but any wounds you had have already healed

Nezuko senses what you are but seems to know that you're docile and snuggles up to your side as a comfort

and Giyuu just watches quietly

when Nezuko has fallen asleep her brother picks her up giving you a sad smile before he leaves

Giyuu helps you stand and brings you inside

he runs a bath so you can clean urself off

and goes about cleaning the house which was destroyed during your attack

it isn't until you're in bed that Giyuu lays behind you, tugs you close to him, and speaks to you for the first time

"i am staying with you. and i WILL turn you back."

and those two sentences bring you all the comfort in the world

#demon slayer #anime #demon slayer x reader #giyuu tomioka #giyuu #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #rengoku kyojuro #demon slayer headcanons #tomioka giyu x reader #giyuu x reader #rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku #kyojuro rengoku x oc #giyuu tomioka x reader

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myfictionaldreams · 9 months

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Winter Soup // Mafia!Stucky x F!Reader

Summary: There was no better feeling than a bowl of hot soup when you're feeling unwell and, what's even better is when it's delivered to your door every day by your new guard. It tasted amazing and you could always trust everyone in the Mafia... right?

Requested by: @senjoritanana thank you so much, I hope you enjoy all the angst!

A/N: PSA I don't know the specifics of how poisons work and didn't want to risk it on my google history lmao so please ignore any inaccuracies. Please read the tags if you're affected by near death experiences, please proceed with caution and if I've missed any tags/warnings, please let me know!

Warnings/Tags: 18+ readers only, hints of smut, angst (LOTS BUCKLE UP), fluff, polyamory relationship, poisoning, blood and injury, anxiety, crying, begging, near death expierences, reader is injured, pain, emotional hurt/comfort, hospitalization, protective Steve Bucky and Sam, everyone needs a hug tbh

Words: 7.7k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The warmer months were slowly starting to shift into winter and for some reason this year, the weather change was beginning to affect your health. You’d heard of the phrase ‘seasonal depression’ but you were convinced that it was due to the cooler weather that was making you feel this rubbish.

It had been happening for a week now, and some days you’d feel fine, normal in fact but then others your chest felt so tight as if an elephant was sitting on top of you, nausea, vertigo and heart palpations that would have you clutching your chest with fear you might explode. With each passing day, you would be praying for the summer months to return, especially as the snow and ice increased with intensity outside of your home.

You were fine for the most part, good days and bad; yes you might be getting worse with each passing day but you were adamant that the seasonal illness would pass. However, the frosty weather was also a minor blessing because it was your excuse to stay home and be a pretty housewife for Steve and Bucky. Being able to stay home made it easier to keep the illness to yourself as well, it was a busy time within the Rogers mafia and you didn’t need them wasting their time fretting over your wellness when they had a lot of other things to do. They had many international deals that were so close to being signed for and contracted that every waking hour was spent at the office, on phone calls, and emails, trying to talk to locals across the world to attend meetings on their behalf so the boys were thoroughly busy.

There were a few occasions you’d attended with them to the office if you were feeling particularly needy or lonely but it unnerved you to drive on the snow and ice so when you suggested that you might stay at home, Steve and Bucky offered no complaints.

At home at least you were able to mop about, trying to perk yourself up with movies, pyjamas and your favourite bowl of warm soup. Over the last few months, you’d been trying to improve your cooking skills, especially to impress Steve who usually cooked for three of you. This became more interesting as the colder months drew in over Brooklyn as this meant you could cook more homely, hearty foods such as soups and stews, especially as you had recipe suggestions from the newly hired grounds guard Rafael.

He’d been recommended by a friend of a friend for Steve to hire which was perfect timing because the last grounds guard had retired. There were a few occasions when he was the guard to bring the post to the front door from the front gate and you soon found he was enthusiastic and easy to talk to, even though he was a little bit older, which was how you found out he had previously been a chef and offered to give you recipe ideas. As winter drew in, Rafael began turning up when he knew you were by yourself to deliver some of his momma’s family recipe soups, hoping that the meal would perk you up which it did, they tasted so delicious that you were secretly hoping he would keep bringing them to you, especially as you continued to feel unwell.

“What is it today?”, you asked voice full of hope and trying to sound as upbeat as possible. Even though you were desperately holding onto the door handle as your head was spinning and scared you’d fall over.

“Potato and leek soup and they’re all grown in my back yard so hopefully you’ll love it even more than usual”, Rafael smiled as he handed over the container, his smile broad and causing the aged creases at the corner of his eyes to deepen.

Gleefully you accepted the soup, opening the lid slightly to smell the delicious meal, your stomach grumbling with hunger. Your appetite had reduced significantly over the last few days due to always feeling nauseous however it seemed the only thing that you could stomach was his delicious meals and therefore his arrival was always welcomed.

“Thank you so much! Please will you let me pay you this time? You’re being way too kind to me, always giving me free meals, you’re going above and beyond a usual guard”, you pleaded whilst also having to return holding onto the door handle as it felt like the ground was moving with your dizziness.

Rafael held up his hands and shook his head, taking a step back, “Absolutely not! Just wanted to give you something to make you feel better and make the fairies go away”.

The guard halted, a look of embarrassment passing out his features as he realised what he just said, especially as you asked, “Fairies?”

He awkwardly looked down at his shoes, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to explain, “Yeah it’s just something my momma use to say. If we were feeling unwell, it’s because the fairies had crept into our stomachs and were being naughty and making us ill and now I’ve said it out loud to another person I’ve realised how insane that sounds so I’m going to stop talking”.

You squeezed your lips together to try and contain your laughter but that lasted a moment before you were both laughing which only turned into you losing your balance against the door and swaying to keep yourself upright. The laughter died in Rafael’s eyes as he reached out to you, “Woah, you ok, Ma’am?”

Quickly brushing him off, you took a step back into your home, trying to ask nonchalantly about the situation, “Yeah sorry, probably just the fairies pushing me over”. Your joke didn’t seem to comfort him in any way as he continued to look uneased by your appearance.

Thankfully Rafael didn’t push the situation any further, seeing that you wanted to escape back into the comfort of your home, he took his step back with a simple smile. “Get back inside before you catch another cold from this snow. Eat the soup whilst it’s still warm and I’ll be back tomorrow to hear the verdict on the taste.”

“Thank you Rafael! Enjoy the rest of your day!”. You waved him off and rushed to slam the door, sliding down to the floor against the wood, losing all energy that you’d built that morning just for that one conversation. Ok yes, you were feeling sorry for yourself as you tried to catch your breath, heart pounding violently in your chest that it also echoed in your ears and your vision was still seeing double of everything.

However your stomach continued to gurgle with hunger so without wasting any more energy, you opened the lid and ate the entire contents then and there. Releasing a satisfied sigh at the delicious meal, you took another couple of minutes to gather your senses before dragging yourself over to the living room, collapsing onto your back on the couch and letting sleep take you into a dreamless realm.

A violent shake of your shoulders by a hard grip on your shoulder was what startled you awake as Sam’s voice then surrounded you as he shouted, “Hey! Wake up!”.

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever been close to hating you Sam Wilson”, you croaked before coughs shattered your chest, rocking your body as you tried to sit up and suck in any air between the painful coughs. Finally, you calmed down enough to collapse back against the decorative cushions of the couch and open your eyes to look at the three Sam’s that hovered over you. After a couple more blinks, they merged into one, very distressed-looking bodyguard, eyebrows knitted together and jaw muscle clenched harshly.

Sam reached towards your face, pressing against your cheek in concern, “Why didn’t you tell me you were ill?”

“What? I’m not ill, I’m just tired, can’t a girl nap around here?” you questioned with a raised eyebrow, trying to look as relaxed as possible.

The man didn’t look convinced as he sat on the edge of the couch next to you. Releasing a heavy sigh which only twinged something in your chest that made you want to cough but you refrained from doing so as you emphasised, “Sam seriously, I’m fine”.

Sam gave you another serious glance, eyes hardening as he explained, “You didn’t sound fine, you were wheezing so hard in your sleep I thought you were going to stop breathing”.

There was no denying the panic that filled your heart and would explain the tightened feeling in your chest but you tried to not let the fear show on your face as you rolled your eyes, reaching for his hand and squeezing it.

“I appreciate your concern Sam, but I feel ok, I’m just tired, I was probably just sleeping in a weird position and look, no wheeze now!” Taking a deep breath to show there was no more noise coming from your chest, however, it didn’t seem to comfort him in any way.

“Yeah well you’re still looking peaky and why are you so tired all the time recently, you’re never usually like this”.

“It’s probably just the cold weather or something. If I start to feel unwell, you know I’d tell you. I’m a big baby when I’m ill, you’ll be the first to know”. Sam looked to be contemplating believing you and all you were silently begging for was that he didn’t call Steve and Bucky, they just didn’t need this stress right now. Even though it was in his contract to call them at any sign of injury or illness but as Sam looked at you, other than looking tired, you seemed to be fine and still joking with him. Finally, he gave you a simple nod and you couldn't hold back the thankful sigh. “Do you mind if I go back to sleep for a little while longer or do you need me for anything?”

“You’ve been sleeping a lot recently”, he stated his earlier point again.

“What, so I’m not allowed to nap now?” you teased him with a subtle smile, hoping to crack his worried exterior. It only half worked as he shook his head to himself, standing up and pulling the fluffy blanket that had been left behind you on the couch and throwing it over your body. Before you could even thank him though, sleep had stolen you back into its resting state.

Sleeping for a few more hours, Sam was nowhere to be seen but he usually liked to check the perimeter ever so often and speak to the other guards so you weren’t worried about his whereabouts. As you shuffled to the kitchen, you couldn’t tell if you felt any worse or better after all the sleeping, haven’t wasted another day feeling sorry for yourself, you tried to snap out of it by glancing through the refrigerator and cupboards and deciding to ssurpriseSteve and Bucky with a romantic meal.

The house was soon filled with delicious scents of sweet and savoury as you’d baked and were in the process of cooking their dinner. You were in your own little world and had only stumbled a handful of times with dizziness and the headache that was building was currently mild in comparison to others you had, it was fine you determined to yourself

Still lost in your own thoughts, you hadn’t even heard the front door open as you were suddenly enveloped by a muscular chest and arms, a smile aching your cheeks as you nuzzled back into Steve’s body. His lips danced over your cheek and down your neck as he held you close, the roughness of his beard comforting. “I didn’t hear you come in”, you commented, turning your head slightly to chase after his lips, sighing deeply in your chest as he held you tighter for a second, hands dipping beneath your shirt at your waist so that he could feel the warmth of your skin.

“I did shout”, he revealed whilst moving back to neck, not to kiss but just to smell you in, his body almost melting into the floor as he felt at home with the familiar scents. “I’ve missed you”, he whispered against your skin.

Goosebumps instantly flooded over your body as you shivered, turning in his arms to hug him properly, your fingers scratching through his hair that was beginning to curl at the ends where he’d allowed it to grow out over the winter months. “I’ve missed you too”, you whispered against his lips, lazily kissing and breathing each other in.

“Come with us tomorrow, I want you to be near me”, he admits with words that were making you cling to him harder.

You wanted to say yes and the word was on the tip of your tongue but then your thoughts drifted to the soup coming. “I’ve got a delivery coming that I can’t miss, I’m sorry”.

“The guards can get the delivery”, he counters.

“It’s fresh soup I want it whilst it’s hot”, an embarrassed smile finds its way to your lips as he leans his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he just enjoyed the moment of the two of you being together.

“Soup? But we could order that to the office if you wanted it, you know that’s no issue”.

You pout dramatically, hanging off his neck as you whisper with a childish tone, “But it won’t be the soup that I’ve ordered and want”.

Steve rolls his eyes but you know he's being playful, he could never find a reason to be upset with you. Rolling back his shoulders, he stands back to his full height, opening his eyes to cup your cheek with his massive hand but this was when he took you in and a frown dawned on his face just like it had on Sam’s. “Are you feeling ok?” The hand on your cheek moved towards your forehead, expecting to feel a temperature but it felt normal.

“I feel great”, you say with as much cheer in your tone as possible, still holding onto his neck but mostly because another wave of dizziness had rushed through you and you needed some support to stay standing.

Steve didn’t seem convinced, “You just … look a little off”.

You playfully rolled your eyes, similar to how he had just done, “Wow thanks Steve”.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that”.

“I know, I’m joking, I’m fine - really, it's nothing to worry about”. He eyes you and doesn’t fall for your grin so you tried your next trick up your sleeve. Leaning on your tip toes whilst pulling his face closer, you whispered against his lips, “I love you, Stevie”.

The tension momentarily eased from his shoulders as his grip around you tightened, “I love you too”.

“Sorry to interrupt your love fest but I want my own loving”, Bucky broadly announced from the entrance of the kitchen where he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a twinkle of mischief in his blue eyes however as you pulled back from Steve and he could finally see your face, the happiness seeped from his face. “Woah, what happened? Are you ok?”

You gave a frustrated huff, finally releasing Steve’s neck as you pointed in the direction of the decorated table. “Right, both of you go and sit down before I decide you don’t deserve any food for being mean”.

Steve shuffled away first as you continued to cook the food, Bucky looking ashamed as he came over and kissed your cheek but before he could pull away, you quickly captured his lips in a kiss to show you’d been playing before and weren’t upset.

“Why are there only two plates on the table?” Steve questioned as he took a seat.

Without looking over your shoulder at him, you casually answered, “I’ve already had mine, I wasn’t sure when you were both going to be home and I didn’t want to wait”. They both seemed to accept your lie and you happily sat with them as they ate, asking about how the deals were going. They both seemed to be agreed that they were sure to have contracts signed tomorrow and had even been able to pay off some of the international police so that shipping of the goods could occur. In truth, after the soup, you were not feeling at all remotely hungry and even the smell of the cooked food had turned your stomach over.

A couple of hours later, the three of you were preparing for bed. Steve is in the middle and you are to his right and Bucky is to his left. You and the mafia boss had been kissing deeply for a couple of minutes, his hands beneath your shirt, brushing against your breasts, rough fingertips peaking your nipples as you ground down on his thigh. You were soaked and he could feel the evidence of it as you weren’t wearing any underwear but the longer the touches and kisses went on for, the more you were feeling unwell.

As his teeth tugged on your bottom lip and he began to trail open-mouthed kisses over your jaw and down your throat, you noticed Bucky was doing the same thing but to Steve’s neck from behind. However, there were two Bucky’s instead of one as your vision swayed and it felt as if you were on a water bed with how unsteady you felt. The headache was close to a full-blown migraine as well now which only continued to make you feel nauseous so even though there was nothing more you wanted than to continue where this intimacy was leading but, for once, you had to stop it.

“Wait, just- just one moment”, you pushed against Steve's shoulders at the same time. The blonde's hold on you loosened as he moved his face back to look into your eyes but you’d closed them, trying to hide your face from him and Bucky who had also sat up further to check on you. “I just- sorry I’m tired and I… I’m not sure- sorry.. I don’t think-”.

Steve’s fingers tipped your chin up to look at him as he smiled softly down at you, “If you don’t want to do anything, we don’t have to. If you’re tired then I’ll just hold you close, ok? Please don’t apologise for not wanting any of this”.

You relaxed in his arms, feeling grateful for him but also bad that you could feel how aroused he was against your stomach. “Thank you. I’m just feeling so tired today. Please don’t let me stop you both, continue without me, I just want to go to sleep”.

“You don’t have to give us reasons why you don’t want to do it, baby, we’ll do whatever you want to do. Me and Buck don’t have to fuck if you want to be held, I don’t want you thinking we’re neglecting you”.

Affection and love warmed your heart as you kissed Steve’s lips and then reached over his shoulder to kiss Bucky. “I love you both but seriously please continue, I like watching you both anyway so that’ll satisfy me enough if I’m not asleep by that point anyway”.

They both gave their love back to you with praises and pecks to your face before rolling away from you and beginning their exploration of each other's bodies. You watched with a smile on your face for a couple of moments and your core ached with need but as a burst of pain pounded through your temple, your eyes shut automatically to help ease the pain and from there, they never opened again as sleep took you soon after.

The next morning, your migraine had gone but your entire body felt weak and drained of any energy. Steve and Bucky took one look at you and determined that they’d be working from home, wishing to remain near you but they still needed the comfort of their home office upstairs whereas you remained downstairs, pretending to watch TV.

Somehow, you had continued to hide your seasonal illness, they just thought you still looked peaky. Today was the worst you’d felt so far, even having to use the wall as support whilst walking around the home, silently coughing into cushions so that the boys wouldn’t hear upstairs and this only increased the sharp pain shooting through your chest.

At lunchtime, Sam came over to visit and found you at the table in the kitchen, head lying against the table top as you dipped in and out of sleep. You were too tired to even pretend to joke and thankfully for once he didn’t pester you with being unwell, especially knowing Steve and Bucky were home, he assumed they had seen how bad you were so he just sat next to you at the table, easing his hand under your head so you had some comfort against the hard surface.

Soon after, Rafael knocked on the front door with your soup delivery. Usually h,e would stay at the door, never coming into your home but Sam insisted that he come out of the cold and deliver the soup to you in person.

“Yay!” you croaked, reaching out for the warm container, seeing the soup within and seeing that it was a deep red colour today, possibly tomato.

“I didn’t know you cooked, Rafael”, Sam noted, taking his seat next to yours once more as the new guard stayed standing at the head of the table. Other than Natasha, Sam was the lead of the security and guards and technically Rafael’s boss.

“Oh yeah, he used to be a chef”, you explained to Sam, whilst opening the lid of the container, smelling the delicious food and confirming your theory that it was tomato soup.

“Chef? I didn’t know you worked as a chef”, Sam remarked with a frown, eyeing Rafael with confusion as he’d been the one to complete the job interview and didn’t remember seeing chef on his CV.

Rafael casually shrugged his shoulders, looking somewhat tense at the questioning but still forced a smile to his face to please his boss. “I didn’t think it was relevant to the job, to be honest”.

“We’ll have to get you on the bbq when the weather perks up, maybe that’ll stop the arguments between Steve and Bucky”, Sam mused over the thought.

You tried to chuckle but the exhaustion had you slumping against the table as you mumbled, “I feel like shit”.

Sam tensed next to you, “Maybe we should call a doctor. You know, I’m surprised Steve and Bucky aren’t down here right now looking after you, do they even know how bad you’re feeling today?”

“Wait, they’re both here?” Rafael asked Sam but he ignored him, his focus solely on you.

Once again you’re too tired to think of an answer and shrug your shoulders, turning your head to look up at Rafael, “I think the fairies like me too much”.

“Fairies?”, Sam questions thinking that you’d become delirious.

You smile genuinely to Sam, reaching to tap his shoulder, “Inside joke Sam, keep up”.

There was no further discussion of fairies as more hacking coughs ripped through you. It took a couple of moments and Sam rushed to get you a glass of water before you slumped back against the table in exhaustion.

“Why don’t you have the soup and then see how you’re feeling later? Maybe the rest is all you need”, Rafael suggested, filling the silence with his voice.

You couldn’t see it but Sam gave his employee a scathing look, “Rest is all she’s been doing. I’m calling the doc and then I’m going upstairs to tell Steve and Bucky”.

“Aren’t they busy?” Rafael continued to question Sam. “I’ve heard they’ve got that deal coming up from Italy and France, they might appreciate it if you wait a little bit before calling Doctors”.

Sam’s voice was quiet and stern but you were too tired to notice. “That’s not common knowledge, how do you know that?”.

Massaging your temples with the pounding thuds that hadn’t stopped since your coughing fit, you decided that Rafael was right, usually sleep made you feel better. Reaching for the soup one more, you opened the container as you addressed your bodyguard, “he’s right Sam. I just need today for all the work stuff to be over and then I’ll call the doctor. The boys don’t need any distractions, especially today, one more day isn’t going to kill me”.

Sam didn’t look happy as you began to idly sip on the thick, delicious soup. As you thanked Rafael for the meal, Sam finally looked back to him, his frown deep and unmoving as he asked, “Don’t you have work to do?”

Rafael’s spine straightened, “Oh yeah, right. Sorry, sir” and with that, he left to return to work.

“You don’t have to be so bossy you know, he’s just trying to help”, you tried to reason with Sam.

However, your friend ignored you and moved to hold your hand to pull your attention away from the meal and towards him. “I’m giving you until the evening, wait no- if you get any worse before the evening, I am calling the Doc, no arguments, understand?”

“Yes sir”, you say with a little salute.

Finishing your soup, your boyfriends finally came downstairs and you attempted to straighten your posture and plaster a fake smile on your face. Bucky paused in the entryway, sniffing the air and asking, “What’s that smell, I know it's from somewhere but can’t put my finger on it”.

“Is it my soup?” you say, trying to stand up and act like the floor was spinning beneath you.

“No, it’s not that”, he pondered, still looking around and trying to smell whatever he recognised but couldn’t pick it up again. Steve and Bucky both walked past you, kissing the back of your head as you casually explained that you were going to lie down for a little bit. “Wait, let me come with you-”, Bucky started but you held out your hand to stop him.

“You’ve got a busy time at work and I’ve got Sammy boy here anyway so you two continue with your work and we’ll have a nice evening in, Ok?”

“Yes Ma’am”, he mutters before continuing to make his lunch. It wasn’t often that he listened to your instructions but both men were so busy and overwhelmed with work and the consequences that could come from it all that they were all over the place.

The next hour passed by slowly and you didn’t manage to sleep even for a moment because your symptoms were making you feel so awful. You were wheezing so bad that each breath felt like you were suffocating, your eyes began to roll with how much the room was spinning and a violent tremble rocked through your entire body, you didn’t feel right, something was wrong and it was beginning to scare you.

“Sam?” your voice was nothing more than a rasping whisper but he still was able to hear you from where he had been on the phone with the doctor from across the room, having noticed your deterioration in health. He was kneeling by your side in a couple of broad steps, the phone balancing between his cheek and shoulder as he rested a hand on your temple, feeling your spiked temperature. “I don’t feel good”, you admitted, voice full of terror before more coughs ruptured through your chest, leaving you struggling to breathe.

“Steve! Bucky get down here right now!”

“No… no, I just need to sleep”, the fear had disappeared from your voice as you wished for the exhaustion to take you completely, hoping that in sleep you wouldn't feel the pain destroying your insides.

“Hey! No! Don’t go t sleep, need you to stay awake for me, Doctor Banner is on his way but you can’t go to sleep”, Sam urgently tapped your face, rousing you from the sleep as Bucky had all but jumped down the entire flight of stairs at the shouting.

“What’s going on- What the fuck? Doll?” he replaced where Sam was so that he could continue to explain to the doctor what was happening.

“I’m just not feeling ok, it’s fine Bucky go back to work”, you were somewhat delirious, still not really opening your eyes but leaning into the coldness from Bucky’s hand as he cupped your face. Bucky looked to Sam for answers, his eyes bright and alert with fury and worry.

When Sam shrugged his shoulders, not having any answer as to why you were suddenly so unwell, Bucky quickly turned back to you and assessed your deteriorating health and noticed just how laboured your breathing had become. As he spoke, it was with surprising gentleness but still held authority, “I need you to take a deep breath for me, honey, I want you to try and fill your lungs with air”.

“I’m trying, it’s just seasonal illness, it’ll be ok”.

“What are you talking about?” Bucky asks, not letting go of your face but just moving in closer.

“It’s just seasonal”, your words began to slur as you became incoherent.

Steve finally descended the stairs with just as much purpose as Bucky as he demanded to know what was going on but Bucky couldn’t answer him as he continued to talk to you and keep you awake. “It’s not seasonal, you’re not breathing properly, it’s not-”. Bucky was leaning so close that he was able to smell your breath and he froze, it looked like he now wasn’t even breathing.

“What is it Bucky?” Steve demanded, kneeling next to him and reaching over to take your hand but also feel your pulse, which only made his own increase with worry.

Bucky leans closer and smells your mouth again, so close that you tried to move away as his nose nudged your lips. “What did you eat?” Bucky asked in a tone that forced your eyes to open with concern.

“Huh? Um just my soup”, you say whilst blinking quickly as he still wouldn’t come into focus.

“Soup? Where is it? Where’s the container?” before you could answer, he was on his feet and running into the kitchen as Steve continued to demand answers from his boyfriend, his hand now moving from your wrist to directly over your heart, continuing to count the beats.

Bucky cursed so violently that it actually made you shrink into the cushions but the movement only made you cough more and chest tighten as you struggled to breathe. He returned to the room, his face a deathly white and green shade as he uttered just one word: “Hemlock”.

There was just one brief second where not a body in the room breathed or even moved, one single second to process the poison that Bucky had spoken, the planet that he only knew about because of his time as the Winter Soldier and using it on his target. The poison that he could now smell on your breath, that originated from your container of soup.

It was Sam to speak first, Sam to snap the two men out of their frozen states as he gave the orders from Doctor Banner who had heard the word over the phone. “We need to get her to a hospital right now”.

Steve picked you up, and his entire body began to tremble with adrenaline and fear as no one even stopped to properly dress for the snow outside, only putting their shoes on before rushing to the car. Sam thankfully was able to use the adrenaline to remain headstrong as he climbed into the driver’s side of the car so that Steve and Bucky could both hold you in the back seats and try and keep you awake.

You were lying with your head in Steve’s lap with your body lying across Bucky’s as they clamped their arms around you as makeshift seatbelts. You had heard the word that Bucky had said and even though you knew what it was, you didn’t want to believe it, even as you continued to feel worse. “It’s not poison, it’s just soup”.

However, those words triggered something within your throat and once more you were coughing so hard that you thought you were going to vomit and cringed as metallic warmth filled your mouth and leaked out of the corner of your lips.

You slumped onto Steve and Bucky, head lulling back but Steve was quick to grab your face, tapping it and forcing you to stay awake, “Baby don’t go to sleep! Please stay awake for me! Stay with us, we’ll be at the hospital soon, I promise”.

You were scared, even though you were half-conscious, you were terrified now realising the severity of the situation, knowing that you were coughing up blood which was now soaking the front of Steve’s shirt and hearing how panicked your boyfriends were only made it worse. Through all the scary, dangerous times in your life, they always remained calm and in control but now they were both frantic and frightened.

As all three men continued to plead with you to stay awake, you forced yourself to open your eyes, only allowing yourself the luxury of blinking occasionally as you kept looking into Steve’s ocean-blue eyes. With his body and face so close to yours, you used him to ground you in the situation, trying to copy his breathing which had slowed since you’d opened your eyes; ignoring the pain from the breaths and resisting the urges to cough even though blood continued to fill your mouth.

“Am I going to die?” you whisper, not being able to ignore the questions now in the back of your mind anymore.

Steve’s breath hitched for a second before he tried to confidently whisper, “No, you’re not going to die”.

You didn’t believe him, especially as the trip to the hospital was delayed by the snow, every second feeling like it could be your worse, you didn’t want it to end like this.

“I love you.”

“You’re going to be ok, just keep looking at Steve, keep breathing”, Bucky pleaded, squeezing your freezing cold hand.

“Please, just say it back”, your voice was hardly audible anymore as your mouth was so full of blood.

“Stop talking and save your energy for when you’re feeling better”, Bucky tried to keep his composure but you knew he was close to snapping.

Your breaths were wet and laboured, wheezing so violently it rattled and echoed around the car but you still managed to plead, “Say it back-”.

“I love you, I love you so fucking much, please don’t leave me, baby”. Steve snapped first, his eyes were wide, fearful and yet beautiful with how stark the blue was as his eyes filled with tears, leaking down his cheek and into his beard.

You were thankful, for both of them, for everything and you wish you could have told them, wishing that you could have heard Bucky’s own declaration of love and adoration for you but the pounding of your heartbeat became so loud in your head that you couldn’t hear anything anymore.

But you continued to hold on, never once looking away from those pretty eyes of Steve’s as Sam finally screeched to a halt outside of the hospital. Once more, Steve carried you and there was a flurry of people in different coloured scrubs suddenly surrounding you as you were placed onto a cold bed.

One moment you were staring into Steve’s eyes and the next you were looking up at a stranger and the comfort you’d once felt, the thing that was grounding you to life was now gone and you couldn’t find him again, no matter how much you moved on the bed, even as the strangers poked and prodded at your body until you couldn’t deal with it anymore and finally closed your eyes.

Do you ever have those naps where you wake up and forget where you are, or what time or day it is? That was currently how you felt except the added sensation of floating encompassed your body as well. The only sort of normality felt throughout your body was a cool feminine hand stroking across your temple in a soothing, repetitive manner.

Your toes wiggled firstly and then your eyes behind your eyelids and even though you knew who was stroking your forehead, you still croakily asked, “Steve? Bucky?”

“It’s just me Sugar” Natasha sounded calm and peaceful as her fingers didn’t stop with their soothing motions. “The boys are going to be so pissed that you’re awake before they’ve got back”.

You huff and dared to open your eyes, grunting at the brightness of the room but thankfully your eyes adjusted and only one, still, Natasha smiled down at you. Seeing that you weren’t going to vomit or freak out, Natasha sat back in her chair, moving to hold onto your hand to give you some comfort. “You gave us a real scare”.

You thought back to everything that happened, some of it was a blur but most of it still played through your mind like a horror movie that you couldn’t look away from or escape. “Was I really poisoned?”

There was one thing that you appreciated about Natasha and that was her blunt honesty, not one to ever sugarcoat her words, “You were”.

“But… But how? I mean… the soup, Rafael, he wouldn’t-”. You stopped yourself talking, trying to envision all the interactions you’d had with him but only one thing repeated through your thoughts: Don’t trust anyone. That was one of the first rules Steve had taught you. “I don’t understand why? He seemed so nice to me, is his name even Rafael? Was everything a lie?”

“That’s what they’re just finding out. Apparently, the friend of a friend rouse was made up including his credentials, usually, our background checks are very thorough but he had some help to slip through the cracks”.

“Do you know what help he had? Who it was, I mean?”

Natasha for once seemed to think before she spoke which unnerved you, knowing that whoever’s name she spoke next wouldn’t be good news.

The monitor displaying your heartbeat began to beep as it increased with the dread that was settling through your body.

“All signs are currently pointing to Pierce”.

Your eyes closed as you tried to remember how to breathe. You knew about Alexander Pierce. Everyone did. He was ruthless and had plenty of finances and power to pay for his success but not only this, he had been one of the top employees of Hydra and usually in charge of the Winter Soldier. So yes, you all knew a lot about Alexander Pierce and his name was one to send fear through any of those involved in the Rogers mafia, even Steve.

As you opened your eyes again to look at Natasha, you could tell she wanted to tell you more but was holding the information to not panic you further but you needed to know. “Please just tell me whatever it is you’re not telling me”.

“We think he paid this guy to come and spy on Steve and Bbucky and it seems he put his sights on you. Specifically.. Because you’re their biggest weakness and it seemed like everyone knows that”.

Your face warmed with fear and anger, as fear prickled the corner of your eyes, “So what, now I’m not even safe in my own home?”

“That’s not-” Tasha began to lean forward in her seat but another voice cut her off.

“No, you weren’t safe in your own home”. Steve stood at your hospital room door, dressed casually in a black shirt and jeans, looking nothing out of the ordinary but his face was wrath of calm and anger. Your eyes snapped from him to Bucky who had looked just as serious but as your eyes connected with his, the hard lines of his face smoothed out into a weak smile.

The two of them step into the room as Natasha stands, informing everyone that she’d give us some space and guard the door.

You’re trying desperately to keep the tears at bay, to keep them from slipping and cascading down your cheeks, not wanting your boyfriends to feel any more guilt but as you took a deep breath in, a sob erupts through you and you can’t keep the emotions back anymore.

You attempted to hide your face with your hands, even with the added difficulty of having tubes and wires attached to the backs of your hands and the tips of your fingers. The realities of everything that had happened began to destroy any hope that you had. You’d nearly died, in your own home where you were supposed to be most safe.

Steve and Bucky sat on either side of your hospital bed, moving silently as they always did and with careful ease, gently took a hand each and pried them away from your face, stroking away any tears that continued to escape.

“I’m sorry, I just- I don’t know… It’s a lot”, you tried to give reason for your crying, even though it was unnecessary. Bucky tilted your face towards him, his voice was so soft and caring that it nearly made you sob with how careful he was being with you, “Don’t apologise for crying, I tell you this all the time, Doll”.

You offered him a wet giggle, taking a few deep breaths before rambling on with your anxiety, “I bet I look like a right mess right now, I don’t even know how long I’ve been asleep for”.

They let you calm yourself down before Steve praises with his low captivating voice, “You always look beautiful, no matter how much snot is on your face”. He smiles as he manages to make you laugh before he turned serious, “It’s been 5 days, baby”.

Your face drops, “5… I’ve been asleep for 5 days?!”

“You passed out when we arrived and when they could finally stop the bleeding you-”

“Bleeding?” you questioned, remembering you were bleeding from the mouth but it didn’t seem like that much.

“The poison you’d ingested that day was a higher dose and caused internal bleeding. After they were able to stabilise you, they needed to detox you from the poison and make sure your body was healing so it was safe to keep you asleep”.

You tried to process everything that Steve had told you, it felt confusing for you to have been through so much and yet feel such little pain in your body.

As if reading your mind, Bucky once again captivated your attention as he asked, “How are you feeling? Are you in pain?”

“No I’m not in any pain but I feel wrong like my body is floating in the water or something”.

“That might be due to the medications that they’ve got you on, they’re pretty strong Sweetheart”, his pet name helped to calm your disorientated mind, clinging on to the familiarity and focusing on the way both of their hands were holding yours and stroking tiny circles in your skin,

“Did you get the answers you wanted, from Rafael, or whatever his name is”.

Steve and Bucky shared a glance between each other but Steve decided to be the one to answer. “We got the answers, it was as Nat was explaining. Pierce wanted someone in the gang, spying and getting as close to us as possible and I guess they somehow managed to weasel their way in and tried to succeed with their plan to hit our weak spot”.

You took a deep breath to try and reduce the rising anxiety in the pit of your stomach before asking tentatively, “So what happens now? With Pierce I mean.”

“That’s a problem for another time, just need you to get better first”, Bucky interjected, lifting your hand to kiss the few fingers that were attached with clips or wires.

You tried to smile at him, wanting him to know how much you appreciate him but the feeling never met your eyes and this seemed to twist something in Steve and Bucky. Both of their demeanours changed, no longer were you looking at just your boyfriends but also the mafia boss and his second in command, mixing business with family.

Bucky began talking first, tone strong and husky, “This isn’t something we are taking likely. Sam’s already spent the last day and a half revisiting everyone’s past, making sure there are no other moles that have slipped through the cracks. No new faces are allowed anywhere near our home or you.”

As he spoke, you managed sure to nod your head and try to squeeze his hand in understanding. Steve shifted in his chair, capturing your attention as he continued the discussion. “You are safe and you should have been safe but we let you down, you were vulnerable when we weren’t there to protect you like we promised we would. We let you down, we broke our promise, we could understand if you didn’t want-”.

“Whatever you’re about to say you better forget about it right now”, you say sternly, heartbeat beginning to race on the monitor again as Steve’s mouth shut quickly with a snap. “The idea of being your weakness has always frightened me but, I could also be your greatest strength. I mean - Look at what you’ve been going just to protect the house, to protect me. I know you feel like you’ve let me down but I don’t feel let down in any way. Yes, of course, what’s happened is scary, especially in our home but I doubt it’ll ever happen again. They can try and tear us apart, they can try, but they won’t break us, they can’t break us. We have to remain on top ok? I always feel safe and trusted when I’,m with you both so please, don’t ever feel like I'm not because I am. I’ll always love you both, I’m not going anywhere”.

You sucked in air greedily after your short speech, the building emotions spilling freely everything you truly believed to the men beside you, not wishing for them to ever feel doubt for the relationship or how you felt.

Looking between them both, your heart sank as you noticed Bucky quickly wipe the corner of his eye. “I thought you said no more tears”, you spoke softly whilst trying to wipe away a stray tear.

“That’s before you decided to swoon me with your speech”, he quipped back, the light returning to his eyes once more as you laughed.

“I love you Bucky”.

“I love you, Doll”, standing from his chair, his metal hand stroked over the side of your face as he captured your lips with his, lingering for a few beautiful seconds before sitting back down.

Steve had lifted your hand during your speech and was kissing your palm and you reached out to stroke his beard, “I love you, Steve”.

He too stood, just as Bucky had but he kissed your forehead first, breathing you in for a moment before doing the same against your lips. “I love you too, so much baby”.

As Steve sat back down, your eyes began to feel heavy, all of the strong emotions exhausted you completely. “Will you both be here when I wake up? Not that I’m complaining about Natasha but she doesn’t spoon me like you both do”.

They both chuckle under their breath before Steve promises, “We aren’t going anywhere, sleep, Sweetheart”.

#stucky x reader #stucky smut #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #stucky #bucky x reader #bucky smut #bucky #bucky barnes #marvel smut #mafia au #mafia stucky #mine*

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90sbee · 6 months

Text

Dying is not an option (when you're by my side)

Leon S. Kennedy x Gn!reader

1k words. Also on a03

Soft fingers caress his lips, keep his body warm, his belly full and his back massaged.

“I’ll always have a home,” Leon finally manages to get out, a complete sentence, voice without hesitation.

He closes his eyes, kisses the skin of your shoulder.

Hell, he is trying.

When his mind seems to get too clouded by the visions of monsters, you pull him out of the depths of his trauma. He does his best to love you. He tries.

Or the fic in which you make Leon repeat comforting phrases so it finally gets in his head that he is loved.

Just a very soft idea that wouldn't leave my head and that's been too long in the wip folder. The warnings make it seem worse than it is, but happy ending I promise!!! Had re4r in mind for this one but can be read with other older versions of him. (Though the older the Leon, the angstier it gets lmao)

Content: No use of y/n, very very soft love, hurt/comfort, some angst, established relationship, living together, sitting on his lap, a tiny bit of possessive Leon (yay!)

Warnings: +18 ONLY. No smut but some suggestive lines. Mentions of blood, suicide, guns and overall (some brief) gore. Leon's mental struggles (depression, anxiety). I'm not a native English speaker but I (lazily) proofread and edited this one.

You lean forward, just a little closer to his body. Leon groans, his face unreadable still.

“Don’t want to,” he muses, kind of annoyed at your proposal.

“Just trust me.”

He reluctantly nods, as you get comfortable on his lap. His firm thighs under you, the warmest and comfiest seat you could ever ask for.

You worry about him, worry so much.

You know now: know what he does, what he works as. At first it was hard to believe it, the stories about human turned monsters, about creatures that linger between heaven and hell. But you had to believe him, you were forced to the first time Leon crumbled down in your arms, sobbing the entirety of the night, the immensity of his body reduced to shivering and tears.

“I love you,” you had told him that time. “I’m not letting you go. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

You whisper the same things again now, your voice reverberating close to his ear. Leon eases the grip on your hips, replaces it with a soft touch. He tries to calm down, closes his eyes for a moment too long.

“You love me,” he seems to ask, as if trying to convince himself of it, as if trying to find himself worthy of such a feeling from someone like you.

“I do,” you confirm, cupping his cheeks.

He nods, though his heart is thumping in his chest still. Your hands move to his shoulders, then to his arms, caressing the skin with soft strokes.

“I love you… Look at me.”

He obliges, eyes like the ocean, marked by the heavy and dark eyebags.

It breaks your heart to see him like this. Your lip trembles as you lean closer, shortening the distance.

It is entirely possible —as you’re so much aware of— that one day you’ll come home to an unlocked gun and his body in the bathtub. Or maybe it would be the rifle, the carpet stained with blood and pieces of what used to be his jaw.

A jaw that you love so much, that you kiss now.

Leon sighs, seems content with such affection, his hands getting lost down your thighs.

“Listen to me. You’re gonna repeat as I say, okay?” an attempt to get him out of his head, to remind him of who he is.

“ …‘Kay,” he mumbles, seemingly distracted.

“I’m… good.”

He scrunches his nose, pinkish lips downturned. Naturally, he doesn’t dare to say those words. He doesn’t want to trick his brain.

“C’mon,” you egg him, patting his shoulder gently.

The action seems to at least make his lips curve slightly.

“I’m good,” he whispers, his voice insecure.

He tries. You can see how hard he does it: coming home as much possible, the dirty laundry now clean and with a soft cinnamon scent. A sunflower in the kitchen vase next to the window, the coffee mug always clean even when you leave it in the sink, ready to be washed in the morning.

“I’m a good partner,” you resume, reminiscing.

That does stops him in his tracks, a gentle blush rooting on his cheeks, the smile more pronounced now. Leon presses his face against your neck.

“… Do I really have to say it?”

“Yep.”

He breathes on your neck, as if trying to take in a bit of your kindness, a bit of your peace. He closes his eyes, tries to control his breathing. But his hands grip your hips harder.

He fucking loves you.

Leon is not sure he deserves this yet, the warm body on the bed, the pretty smile that kisses him goodbye, lets him go away even in the middle of the night.

“I love you,” he backtracks, pressing a kiss on your neck.

You chuckle, and allow him that admission.

“Very cute but that’s not what you had to repeat.”

Leon raises his eyebrows, feigning annoyance. He keeps his fingers on your hips, dancing on your skin, drawing patterns as he keeps you close. He wishes he could sign his name there, mark you forever so you’d never get too far away from him… So he’d always have a right to come back to you.

“But I love you…” he pouts.

You grab his face with utmost care, force his cheeks to look upwards at your face.

“I love you too. Lots.”

You kiss his forehead. His body melts under that touch.

“ ‘m a good partner” he mumbles, quickly.

“My baby loves me.”

Now Leon chuckles.

“My baby loves me,” he hides again on your neck, his smile etched constantly on his face now. You hug him closer, kiss his forehead once more, as if sheltering a lost angel in your arms.

“I’ll always have a home.”

Oh, that one seems to break him a little. Leon immediately whines, his hands gripping your body with ferocity against his. He can’t say… He shouldn’t. He… he can’t and…

His heart starts beating faster and he gulps.

“You can do it…” you encourage him and he wants to try. He knows, deep inside, that is true and that he is now safe. It takes him several minutes until his anxiety dissipates and he can look up at you, your eyes encapsulating warmth that he had never experienced with anyone else.

Soft fingers caress his lips, keep his body warm, his belly full and his back massaged.

“I’ll always have a home,” Leon finally manages to get out, a complete sentence, voice without hesitation.

He closes his eyes, kisses the skin of your shoulder.

Hell, he is trying. It is seen not only in how much he makes time for you, but also in the way he follows along with your little silly ideas, suggestions to try to build himself up again.

And though he wouldn’t directly admit it, since you two are together he has promised himself to fight his hardest in every mission. He spits his own blood, wipes off the exhaustion from his face and keeps pushing forward. Because, he’ll be damned, he wants to see you once more. And once more. And again and again… And when he comes home, to you, Leon immediately checks —for the tenth time— the safety on each gun and leaves them in locked boxes, his fingers slowly forgetting what it’s like to toy with weapons in the sanctuary that you’ve built for the two of you. The cold of the metal is now replaced by the warmth between your thighs, the flesh on your hips, the softness of your hands.

Hell, he is definitely trying.

And it’s fucking working.

God to be on his lap honestly!!! A dream. And if you've made it to the end, thank you!! Mwah, sweet soul 💙

#x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s. kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy hurt/comfort #writer bee #mine #gn!reader #mdni divider by #@/cafekitsune #divider and support banner by #@/saradika

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 11 months

Note

So request kinda if not just sharing my thoughts in general.

Alex. My boy. What if reader is a civ or even another soldier in a different squad and the whole thing with him joining Farah’s forces indefinitely. I think this can really lend itself to some angst and that good old misunderstanding. Kinda leaning towards civ!reader just because the more miscommunication. I guess it’d have to be an angsty ending though 😳, but regardless-

Love your writing and, as always, feel free to change anything or do whatever gives you the most inspiration

World Caves In

PAIRING: Alex Keller x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Perhaps it would have been better if your husband had died - at the very least you could understand that.

WORD COUNT: 7.9k

WARNINGS: Angst, misunderstandings/miscommunication, hurt/comfort, vulgar language, abandonment?, Alex being an adorable husband, fluff, etc.

A/N: I was gonna make this an angsty ending but I got my period and thinking about that made me cry so here we are, lmao. Enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

When you’d been escorted out of work by two uniformed men, you knew the news wasn’t going to be good. Sitting in the back of a large black car, you spare nervous glances as the vehicle jumps, its wheels going over the last speed bump. Your work building begins to become a fraction of a memory and disappears faster than your resolve.

The men sit on either side of you, silent, and the only comment is to the driver as you all enter the main road. Swallowing, you part your lips and mutter, plain dread in your tone, “Is he alive?”

All you get is a glance from the front mirror and nothing more. You hunch more in your seat and stew in agony, mind far off on the topic of your husband.

Alex wasn’t overly reckless, you’d managed to snuff most of that out over the course of the many years you’d expressed concern to him about it, but a large chuck of the blond was still too selfless for his own good. It was hard not to think the worst.

From training to advising, your husband was always off on one mission to another, far from your quaint and quiet home here—where you waited day after day for even a sliver of contact from him. Alex specialized in so many things that trying to wrap your head around it was impossible.

Even now, you only knew the bare minimum.

The soft-smiled man worked in the SAD division of the CIA. He’s an Operations Officer. Currently, he’s somewhere across the globe.

Away from you.

Thinning your lips, you take down a deep breath and settle back into the seat, pulse flying. The men were obviously Agents—you’d looked closely at their badges when they’d first shown their faces at the front desk and had kept within view of your work’s security cameras just in case this was a ruse. When you could find nothing out of the ordinary, you had tensely asked them what was happening.

They would be holding his dog tags if he was dead, you had reasoned, desperately, a flag.

It was frantic, the way you had thought that up; how could you not be like that? Alex was the light of your life! With him constantly putting his life on the line, it was inevitable for him to get hurt, sometimes seriously. It was ingrained into your mind the way you would help clean his wounds in the middle of the night when the pain woke him up with a grunt stuck in his throat. The way you would sit half-asleep in his lap and re-wrap bandages while he told you to go back to bed half-heartedly. His hands drifting over your warm skin like he was cascading his fingers up and down the spine of an old book.

You never listened.

“It’s late, Bug, I can’t keep you up like this.” His drawl echoes in your ear as you rub a heavy palm into your eye. Alex’s hands are both on your hips, squeezing the flesh just below your tiny sleep shorts. You have him sitting on the floor, back resting on the wall and shirt discarded to the side only wearing loose gray sweatpants. A long cut up his left pec is the center of your blurry attention—a wet rag held as you dab at it. Blue eyes narrow at you. “I’m just fine with doing it myself, y’know.”

“You’re being stubborn again,” you utter, the soft light of the bathroom placed at half-capacity to at least try and keep some of the veil of sleep over your heads. “I told you to wake me up when you needed it cleaned.” Your skin brushes his and Alex shivers under you, sighing breathily. “And you’re not keeping me here—I’m helping.”

A small flash of that full smile, mustache flinching up, “Well when you look so pretty sleepin’ I can’t just shake you awake and tell you to fix me up.”

You take your free hand and pinch his nose, yawning as he grunts out chuckles. A delicate glance is thrown his way as the rag lowers from reddened skin. Like a butterfly's whisper, you study his face gently; reaching and cupping his cheek with your palm.

Alex’s lids flutter, heavy weight falling into you as if waiting for this—lips pressing to your inner wrist in reverence. You hold back a tired giggle and feel the corner of his mouth pull up when he feels it.

“All that talk, and yet,” pressing a smooch to his forehead you take your hand back and hear the grumble he lets out after, “you still like it better when I’m the one that’s working on you.”

“Can’t complain too much,” he admits slowly as his head leans back to tap the wall, “my wife’s hands are way softer than mine.”

Alex’s grip on your flesh tightens when you sipe away the last line of crimson from the wound, tattooed arms flexing.

“Sorry,” you whisper, watching his eyes slightly awash with pain. “Got caught on a stitch.”

“Ah, well,” the blond sighs, shifting “I suppose I can forgive you.”

Laughing quietly as the house settles, you shake your head and rest your forehead on his.

“Such a saint,” your lips utter teasingly as Alex smiles wide, his hands moving higher to your waist. You lean into him, stealing his warmth as your tired eyes flutter; feeling his thumbs run circles over the flesh of your lower spine.

A content breath escapes you.

“Go back to bed, Sweetheart,” Alex whispers, lips brushing yours like silk, the bristles of his facial hair tickling you. “I can do the rest, promise.”

“Know you can,” your mutterings are barely heard, but the man seems to register them, sea-glass gaze incredibly soft. He chuckles at your sleepiness, one hand leaving your waist to capture the back of your head; weaving into your hair and gently massaging your scalp. You practically melt into him, limbs going slack, slurring out, “Quit it. Wanna help, Alex.”

His laughter shakes you, and with a huff escaping, you bury your burning face into his neck and lean into him, careful of his wound even in your fatigued state.

“No offense, Bug,” Alex shifts, grunting as he easily maneuvers you until you’re laying in his arms, inked forearms under your knees and behind your shoulders with vivid images of grim reapers, snakes, and angels guarding you close. A kiss is firmly pressed to your forehead as the blonde smirks downwards, “But you’re about as helpful to me right now as an empty mag.”

You grumble, trying to disappear into his skin and letting him dig his stubble into your cheek.

“If you bring me back to bed before you’re done,” you yawn and close your eyes, “I’m divorcing you.”

He laughs deeply into your ear, body shaking as he pulls back and sends you an incredulous look.

“Hell, we can’t have that, can we, Mrs. Keller? I’d lose my damn mind.”

It’s a long drive, and you worry through the entirety of it. A primal, whole-body-shaking type of fear. You’d built a life with Alex and loved him more than anything or anyone that had come before. Even if he was gone a lot, that had never dulled what the two of you had—your marriage was nothing short of something you would find in a fairy tale; flashing pictures on pages with vivid colors and tender glances. The very cover itself is made of the finest leather and inlaid with gold calligraphy.

Please, Alex, you plead in your head as you remember his loving gaze—his back as he makes supper in the kitchen and hums to himself. Please be okay.

The men hold open the car door when it comes to a stop outside a very obviously abandoned apartment complex near the outskirts of town. You get out quickly. Looking around, you take in the overgrown grass and the broken concrete with a knife in your lung; holding back the flood of anxious tears.

Though, confusion takes president.

“Where did you…?” You turn to look at the Agents, but they’re already clambering back into their car and snapping the doors shut. Wide-eyed and slack-jawed you watch them speed off as a cloud of dust drifts into the air.

Pulse echoing in your ears, you watch the vehicle speed down the road and disappear.

Swallowing, you whisper, “What the actual fuck?” Turning in circles, no one else is around. A part of you starts to worry less for Alex and more for yourself.

They were CIA, you reiterate, I checked their badges—Alex showed me the standard ones. Could I have missed something?

Expression nervous, you shift on your feet before your stuttering legs take you closer to the abandoned building, not really seeing much choice here. You could imagine the scene from The Wizard Of Oz—when the man pulls back the curtain and all is revealed.

That said, you could really only hope that was what was actually happening to you and you weren't getting kidnapped or shot. Taking a deep breath, you clench your fists and enter the building through the open front door.

It was in the wide lobby that you locked eyes with Kate Laswell. You blank, mouth parting as the scent of concrete and decaying furniture get stuck in your nose.

The woman seems highly agitated, brows tight and jaw clenched. Her white blouse had been flattened multiple times by rough hands, lanyard swaying on her neck like Alex’s dog tags would. She holds a file in her hands; the paper bulky as if holding something more than just paper inside its manila clutches.

“Kate?” You ask, confused, “What are you doing here? What’s all of this about?” Taking quick steps forward you splay your hands as your voice grows more serious. “Where’s my damn husband?”

You didn’t know Laswell personally, in fact, when you had first got a glimpse of her here, you’d forgotten the older woman’s name for a moment. The first meeting between the two of you had been at a CIA get-together that Alex had been forced to go to because of his position—some celebration because a group of ICBMs had been taken back into US hands after being stolen. Your husband had introduced you to the Station Chief over a drink with a hand on the small of your back.

But it didn’t stop you now from talking to her like you’d known her for years. Not when fear was flooding your veins.

“What the hell is going on?” You say harshly, glancing around the room for any sight of someone else here.

Kate sighs heavily but wastes no time in speaking, her professional tone and serious face leaving your already fast-paced heart racing.

“Alex isn’t coming back to the United States.” Your eyes blank, staring into icy blue. She holds out her manila folder, jaw tight. Blunt. “He’s a deserter.”

It’s like your entire being halts; your skin suit feels as if it’s sagging on your bones with the weight of a cinder block connected by hooks to the floor.

What did she just say?

Opening and closing your mouth you stutter, lids blinking rapidly.

“I…” Fingers flinching in the air, an exhalation from your nose sounds more like a wheeze. Kate watches stiffly, taking a look at the floor before returning her attention to you; emotion flashes in her eyes. “...W-what?”

“Keller deserted his post—I tried to speak with the Colonel but there’s only so much I can do.” Laswell takes a deep breath as you continue to go through shock. Alex wasn’t coming home? How, why? “He’s staying in Urzikstan to fight with the Liberation Force.”

“Urzikstan?!” You gape, but the woman continues.

“For all intents and purposes, I shouldn’t be here, but Alex asked me personally to hand these to you.” Again the manilla folder is shown to you, but when you only glare and fight the fear and confusion rampaging in your gut a sigh echoes out and it’s placed on a termite-eaten side table. “Even communicating with you could put you in danger now that he’s gotten on the bad side of the entire SAD and CIA branches. This is all I can do.”

“What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself, hand coming up to capture your mouth.

“If Alex re-enters the states—he’ll be arrested and tried in a court of law. If he’s not shot on sight for what he knows.” Kate watches you closely, shaking her head in pity. “I’m sorry,” there’s a strained pause, “but he’s made his decision.”

As she brushes past you, leaving the folder on the side table, you feel your wide eyes well with tears—confused and horrified. But he’s coming back to me, right? Alex…Alex wouldn’t leave me here alone.

It was common knowledge that over the last years the blond had gotten more agitated at his line of work; the orders that he didn’t want to follow but had no choice. No voice. But he can’t just abandon you...could he? You’d taken vows. Had a happy marriage and relationship. Loved each other.

He can’t just…he can’t…

Your hands shake and you’re unable to stop them, gaze locked on that unassuming manilla folder. Kate pauses in the doorway, peeking back and seeing your sickly-looking face, the agony written in the lines of your forehead. Like the picture of a loyal wife being told her husband was never coming home. And Alex wasn’t even dead. Resentment begins to burn.

But he made his bed.

“He told me to tell you that he wouldn’t be angry if you wanted to leave him,” was all she said, a final knife being stabbed into your heart and being ripped out like a live wire. Electricity makes your back go stiff in an instant. “It would be best to never tell anyone that we met.”

You were alone, full body shivers and bile stuck in the back of your throat. Cold sweat coats your palms, a sticky mess of your barebones disturbance.

“He…” your voice is hoarse, bouncing off the far walls. “Alex left me here? He left me.”

It was easier to say that the sun had exploded and you were waiting for the last beam of light to incinerate you. Inside of your skull your brain pounds as, in a mad dash of desperation, you rush to the manilla folder and rip it open with vibrating arms.

Having Laswell tell you that Alex wouldn’t be mad if you…if you…the hairs on the back of your neck rise and suddenly you’re angry beyond a sliver of a doubt. It was insulting.

“Alex fucking Keller,” the paper opens to the bulk of your husband's dog tags and a flip phone—reports like his own personal file and the patch that he had once worn so proudly on his combat vest. Red, white, and blue dig into your retinas; it was old, worn beyond measure, but that little patch was something that was never removed. Not even to be cleaned.

“The dirtier it is,” Alex had commented on the American flag patch when you’d offered to mend it for him, cringing at all the blood stains and dirt flecking off it as he slipped his vest off in the foyer of your home. “The luckier I am.”

“I think the stench of it alone will frighten off anyone who comes near,” you had raised a brow, smirking up at him as he walked over, laughing. A kiss is placed on your lips, Alex’s bright smile transferring over to you as if able to spread from his mouth to yours that simply. You sigh dreamily.

He pulls back with a tiny wink as you gaze up at him, cheekily stating, “That’s the plan, Sweet Thing. Gotta make sure I come home to you in one piece.”

You brush your hands over it and think that maybe it would have been better if he had died. Then you could understand why he’s doing this to you. Anger spreads into rage.

Looking next at the phone and dog tags, all you do is shake your head and slam the folder shut, bitter tears tracking your face. You can’t read anything—can’t see his name imprinted on that metal that used to press coldly into your skin as you both slept in bed. You don’t care about the phone or the files.

None of it mattered.

“He fucking left me here,” it’s like you’re a broken record replaying over and over again. “You absolute bastard, Keller!” Yelling, you press your fingers into your face, hands spreading over your eyes and mouth to muffle your enraged sobs.

“You’re still alive and you left me alone.”

Only the abandoned building echoes your pain; replaying it back over and over again as your wails echo around the lobby like a symphony of laughing jesters.

—

The phone that Laswell had given you had been going off at least three times every day—morning, noon, and at night. You had stared at it with fury, knowing exactly who was calling even if the thing was displaying an unknown number. By now you had steeped in your anger enough that you had found yourself snapping at friends and family alike when asked if you were alright.

You wished Alex was here so you could hit him upside the head for being so stupid. So you could hate him until you had the pleasure to love him again.

Urzikstan.

You’d looked up the country after you had spent two days straight in bed, afterward manically cleaning the house with a glare that could light fires. The far-off place was a land utterly divided by war. Russian occupation, a terrorist group; the force that your husband had joined. Mass against mass against mass.

Brick meets wall.

And Alex had chosen to stay—without a doubt because he’d seen the dire situation and had used that damnable good heart of his to empathize to the max. Forget donations, humanitarian work, or anything else, the man had fucking decided to join in a Liberation Force.

As much as you wanted to say you hated him; had wanted to slam your gold wedding band to the table with a good riddance for betraying you like that…you still had his dog tags around your neck, and the ring was still on your finger.

“Too good for his own sake,” you grumble, shoving dirty clothes into the washer like they had tried to attack you. “Deserted the fucking CIA, Jesus Alex. Do you even think when I’m not around?”

There were only so many times you could curse his name until you felt a deceiving needle of pride slither itself into your skull. You could describe Alex as many things but he would always be steadfast in causes that truly needed his help. He often told you that the best missions were the ones where he could do so much more than take out a target—he strived to help the individuals he met. Form bonds.

God forbid something came in between the blond and the ones he’d chosen to give his loyalty to.

You slam the washer shut and stomp into the living room after starting another cycle. Stress cleaning was really not a good look on you—the entire house was without a single spec of dust but you yourself felt like you’d run seven marathons. Clenching your teeth, you go and drop to the couch, a grunt falling from your lips as your head hits the pillow.

Staring at the ceiling, you finally take in the utter silence of the house—not a home, because it could only be that if Alex was here—with a pained crease forming on your brow. The pipes spit water, and the washer grunted its mechanical garble…but there was no humming man making food in the kitchen. No blond hair visible as a head rests on your chest; your fingers playing in the locks that act like silk as you part them, the man on top of you purring. Body a weighted blanket.

“Was it really that easy,” you whisper to nothing, lip quivering. “Was it really that easy to stay away, Alex? I thought…I…”

Eyes wrenching shut, you hear the phone right at noon again as it sits on the coffee table. And you let it.

There were voicemails, no doubt, but you hadn’t thought to listen to those either. This small act of rebellion was all you could act on but for the simple fact that it also harmed you. Barbed wire steadily digging deeper as it kept your hands wound to your sides—neck plastered to the pillow as bright silver spikes glinted. You stare at the unknown caller who really wasn’t all that unknown and watch the screen light, vibrating over the wood in steady intervals.

What hurt the most was that if he’d asked you to come along—become an Expat just for him—you would have said yes. You could find a new job, a new place to call home. Humanitarian work would have been at the top of your list and Alex…well….he would still be fighting, just as he always had.

But at the very least you would have been there to clean his wounds. Together. You’d both promised on that altar to do nothing less. He could’ve asked. He should have asked.

Alex…

“Urzikstan,” you mutter for what seems like the fiftieth time. When the ringing stops a few moments later the new voicemail icon flashes. Placing your arm over your mouth, you clench your hand so tight it starts to shake, whispering into your skin, “Fine. I guess you did make your bed. And…and I won't be there to lie in it with you.” No matter how much I want to.

You slip the wedding band off of your finger and place it beside the phone before turning and burying your head into the cushions; feeling more numb than you ever had before.

—

It carried on like this for three months. The ring didn’t move from the coffee table and neither did the flip phone; the file had all but been tossed in the trash as it sat teetering on the living room desk. You carried on as well as you could, all things considered.

Work was a blur, going out with friends even harder to enjoy, and any enjoyment of hobbies or activities was dulled to an almost gray existence. Like a ghost, you wafted through experiences with dog tags and a withering appearance. Eventually, you just stopped going out unless it couldn’t be helped. You still bought meals for two at the grocery store out of habit. You placed blankets where Alex used to sleep beside you. You went to work.

And still, the calls never stopped except for a brief pause after the first month. You’d thought he’d finally given up, but no. Back at it.

It had gotten to a point now where the device was automatically deleting all recent voicemails—too little space in the inbox.

Angry curiosity was tempting you. It would be easy, you reason, to simply play the first message and listen. The worst part of it was that you’d begun to forget Alex’s voice and perhaps that was why, on that dead-aired Saturday, you snatched the phone and brought it into the kitchen.

Firmly planting it on the counter, you stand behind one of the island chairs and glare, hands tapping into the wood.

“I’m giving you three minutes, Alex,” you speak as if he’s still here, as if his form stands right behind you, head tilted like a damn dog with that infectious smile and those sea-glass eyes. “Three minutes,” your fingers snap the device open and you go to your voicemails; jaw tight, “and if you don’t hear you groveling, Keller, I’m deleting all of them and chucking this phone into the sink.”

You go down the line to the very first message, small buttons clicking, and before you can stop yourself you press play.

It begins with a small moment of silence. A cough.

“Hey,” he says your first name, not one of your epithets. Your brows deepen their annoyed furrow, but you can’t help the uptick in your heart rate. Inside your flesh, the sinews of your throat close in on itself like a balloon. “I…I’m guessin’ I have a good enough ass-kicking waiting for me since you didn’t answer.” A strained laugh before another pause. You feel acidic tears boil behind your lids. “I’m not surprised—not really. Done some stupid things but never something like this.” You can hear him shake his head, voice going lower in defiance. “But they were asking me to leave Urzikstan in a worse place than when I entered it. This Liberation Force, Bug, it…they’re good people and what they’re asking me to do…” Alex huffs, growling under his throat. “I can’t stand by that. The man you chose to marry, he can’t stand by that. They need me here. I’m not asking you to not be angry—to not hate me for this. I know I damn well deserve it.”

You let your tears hit the counter, head slightly bowing over. That was your Alex.

“You need a leash,” your strained voice hits the walls, bouncing off picture frames and your husband's cooking utensils. The small pieces that make up the whole picture frame of your life. “God,” you huff wetly, “you’re going to get yourself killed.”

“I know I should have talked to you first, figured out some plan. But, uh,” Alex’s throat gets choked up, and you snap a hand to your mouth when you realize he’s close to tears. He clears his throat. “Hell, I should have done a lot of things, Sweetheart.”

You can hear shouts in the background, calls in Arabic. The pounding of a door and a woman’s voice.

“Alex, we need to move! Everyone is ready—Barkov’s lab cannot be left standing a moment longer.” The hurried hand to the line muffles the words, but you hear him anyway.

“Affirmative!” He comes back. “I don’t have time to explain more, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for… everything. I’d understand if you don’t use the passport Laswell’ll give you, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to stop calling.” Alex laughs and your face freezes.

“Passport?”

“What kind of Husband would I be if I just let the most perfect woman in the world go without a fight, huh? I’ll be waiting until you call to tell me to shut the hell up and leave you alone or that you’re down in the airport waiting.” There’s a large sound of combat vests being clicked on—pistols being situated into holsters and a rifle strap slipped over a chest. Alex suddenly pauses and you stare at the phone blankly. “I know this is a big ask, Doll, and I know I’m horrible for even springin’ this on you when I’m half a world away from our bed. But I had to try, even if it was selfish. I just…I just really need to hear your voice telling me if I’m an idiot or not for thinking this up. Call me back soon…or when you run out of my clothes to burn in the firepit out back…I love you, okay? More…more than anything.”

There’s a minute or two of nothing, just Alex’s ragged breathing, and then there’s an older man’s voice ordering him to hurry up. The line clicks.

Your ears ring as it does, wide eyes dripping tears from your bottom lashes as your lungs chill over. Hand slowly flinching out, you ghost over the keys before clicking on the following voicemail. As it plays, your feet start to take you backward at a snail's pace, your spine flattering against the wall as blood drains to your feet.

“Hey, it’s me again. I still haven’t heard from you—that’s alright. Take your time.” Steadying yourself with a hand, you look out of the kitchen and get a glimpse of the manila folder on the desk, its tan hide sucking you in. Pulse in your throat, you rush out to grab it as Alex’s voice echoes. “I know Laswell gave you the file, I trust her that much at least.” A sigh. “But even if it’s just to yell at me, please pick up the phone soon. Let me save some of my dignity and give me a chance to beg on an open line, huh, Sweetheart…? But I guess that’s all—gotta go. I love you.”

You don’t play the next message because you’re ripping open the file with rabid hands, seeing exactly as you had when Laswell left it for you. Alex’s mission report; his patch. The dog tags around your neck clink together like a song, some brutal rhythm.

“Passport?” Grasping the mission report you pick it up, flipping through the multiple pages of blacked-out words and more confused than ever. “Airport?”

The words come out as whimpers, hands so shaky that the pages slip from your fingers. They slam to the floor in a flurry of bond paper and you curse loudly, snatching for the remnants futilely. Grasping on your hands and knees hitches build in your breath as your fingers dance rapidly before they slip across something distinctly not paper.

Small, tiny, and blue. Laminate.

Your very blood seems to stop in your veins. Pushing back one last piece of paper, you come face to face with a singular American passport. Gasping down mute breaths and licking your lips, you pick it up lightly, leaning back on your legs as if you’d just slammed your head into the concrete.

“Alex…” you whisper to no one.

Flipping the hard cover open, a small, palm-sized piece of paper slips out to your lap as your own face stares at you in image form. You blink for a moment before going to take the note and separate the ends. Formal script is inside, stiff lettering. Not your husband's handwriting, but you didn’t have to guess who’d written out these directions for you.

Laswell.

There was a destination in fountain pen ink—an airport near the Urzikstanian and Georgian border. Seeing as Urzikstan was on the travel-ban list due to the turbulence of the government and terrorist threats, you wouldn’t be able to get there directly.

But you supposed Kate had your back for that too.

Georgian safehouse - wait for Keller there. It’s secure. More directions and then a small gap. A pause. Good luck.

You don’t know how long you stare at that paper—that passport. The first thing you think about is how could Alex ask you to do this. Uproot yourself with the snap of a finger. You wouldn’t be able to bring anything beyond what could fit in a few suitcases. No furniture, no large amount of clothes, or even sentimental items. You’d have to quit your job; leave behind family and friends to travel to a war-torn country.

But he’d said it was your choice, and he wouldn’t push you to make it. He’d said you could leave him if you wanted—keep all of this that you’d built here.

…But you’d built it together, hadn’t you?

You think of Alex’s bright smile and his mustache. His tattoos. How he’d hold you so tight in the long hours of sleep that you half-believed he thought you’d disappear if he didn’t; nuzzling his nose into the back of your head and grumbling out nonsense. The way you could trace his scars and watch as he willingly submitted to your praise, delicate lips curving into sheepish grins as you place soft kisses on the raised skin. Red cheeks.

This place wasn’t a home without Alex in it.

You look over at the coffee table and lock onto the gold of your wedding band.

—

Getting into Georgia was a long affair of paperwork and screenings—not days but months of legal jargon that Alex had dodged entirely because of his desertion. By the time you’d landed in country, you were wholly exhausted down to the very marrow of your bones. You get through the checkpoints, pick up your bags, and look out at the entirely new world outside of the airport’s windows.

“Okay,” you swallow saliva and nod carefully before looking down at Laswell’s directions to the safehouse.

You slip the paper into your pocket after memorizing the address, tips of your fingers brushing the smooth surface of the flip phone. Clenching your eyes shut, you take your hand back out and go to try and hire a driver. You were here, but that doesn’t mean all of this was forgiven.

After you find someone able to drive you to where you need to go, you end up standing with a quaint hostel ahead of you, home far behind. Gazing slightly nervous at the strange place you’ve found yourself, you think of Alex’s hand on the small of your back and sigh; caressing the cool metal of the ring around your finger.

Walking forward, you hitch your bags over your shoulders and grit your teeth against the hot sun. When you meet the owner at the front desk you state your name and ask for a bed.

The man’s eyes widen for a moment before he looks at something on his countertop, raising a brow in thought. Grabbing at a stack of papers he holds up a finger and begins digging. Too tired and overwhelmed to ask what was wrong, you just watch and rub at your face.

“Ah,” the man snaps his fingers and laughs to himself, “here it is! I knew I had placed the note somewhere, Mrs. Keller.” You blink, confused, but the man just takes a key from the wall and motions for you to follow. Sparing a glance around for a moment, you slowly slink after, not really having a choice.

“I remember your Husband coming to me—the blond with the tattoos.” The owner looks back, making sure you’re following. He motions to his right side with splayed fingers. “Scars on the side of his head, to reserve a room.”

Alex was here? How much had he done already pertaining to the chance that you would show up?

“Y-yeah,” you chuckle stiffly, “that was him. Sorry for being so long I was…preoccupied.”

“You’re lucky he kept up on payments,” the man grumbles, opening a door with the key and motioning you inside. “My pleasure to finally have you, regardless.”

Entering the small and sparse room, you take the key from him with a thankful smile and a quick thank you before he closes the door. As the barrier thuds, you sway on your feet. Blinking. Breathing hard. You drop all of your bags with a heavy thump that echoes off the walls in a single instant. Heart pounding at everything that was striking you in an instant, you walk slowly back to the bed. You don’t bother to take a shower or brush your teeth; even change.

You fall down on the mattress and pray you don’t have to dream about Alex sending money to this place every week simply on a suffocating hope that you’d come back to him. You pray you don’t dream at all.

The phone wakes you up only thirty minutes later.

Groaning, you shift your body so your hand can snake into your pocket, grasping it and tossing it to the pillow beside your head. You’d never made it through all of the voicemails without crying, so you just deleted all of them and let the inbox fill back up again.

Feeling the dog tags press against your chest as you form your chest into the bed, you shove your head downward and listen to it ring.

Bring-bring, bring-bring, bring-bring

It happens in a flurry of a sleep-addled mind and a horrible desperation to see your husband after nearly a full year of no contact. You flip it open and answer with your nose pressed deeply into the pillow below you. Ears straining and pulse running like a starving cat after a mouse.

Dead silence.

“...Sweetheart…?” It’s pitiful how fast the tears flood you at Alex’s shocked and tiny voice. Tight breathing sounds over the line from his end and your other hand digs into your scalp. A small, cut-off laugh. “Hey…I—”

You hang up with a vicious slam of the screen and let the silence settle again. People walk the hall; the sun dims as night sets in. This isn’t home. Dropping the phone back down to the pillow you curl into a tight ball and cry yourself back to sleep.

If you had to guess, you’d say the small curse was what woke you for the second time, though you didn’t register it until minutes later. That muffled ‘shit’ as a foot hits your dropped bags near the door. But then it’s silent again and your ears only twitch to the gentle sigh that brushes against your face; a thumb and forefinger caressing your cheek as hair is placed back over your ear.

Perhaps the only reason at all as to why you don’t wake up screaming bloody murder is because of his calluses. They burn your flesh as they slide over it—as ingrained into your very being as your own heart is. As if Alex’s touch was another organ that was needed to survive. More important than a liver or a spleen.

When your eyes slip open he’s leaning back in a chair he had turned to face you, built form shifting as the rickety wood creaks. No more than five feet away sits your husband, and all you do is suck in a tight breath and lock gazes with soft sea glass.

Alex freezes at the same time, strong brow line peeling back and mustache stiff as his lips immediately thin. You both stare for a good while, a thread of tension entering the air. The night deepens.

He speaks first, in the dense hours of confrontation. Your heart feels like it’s been stuck with a spear, vignette at the sides of your vision, and a blooming center of only Alex’s body and his messy hair. The scarf around his neck. The combat vest.

Had he driven all this way to see if you were here? Because you’d answered the phone? But you hadn’t even said anything. Your head stays on the pillow, wondering if you were hallucinating.

“Hey,” Alex forces a chuff before he glances away, nervous arms crossed. “Hey there, Doll. Sorry that I woke you. I…ah,” your eyes bore into him, hand on the sheets slowly clenching into a fist. “I figured there was an off chance you would be here.” He clears his voice, throat closing on a trying laugh. “Guess I’m glad I looked. You should remember to lock your door, by the way.”

At the sight of your rising glare, his tone drops, expression falling even more than it already was. Deep well of sadness grew in his eyes, lips pulling back in a strained agony.

Alex’s gaze drops to the floor.

“I know,” is what hits the air, “I know, Sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it,” you push your body up as his large shoulders tighten—such an accomplished and strong man brought to a squirming heap when his wife’s sharp words hit him in the chest. “What the hell were you thinking, Alex?!”

Heavy feet hit the floor as you stalk over, fatigue and tiredness pushed all the way to the back of your mind yet also enhancing your emotions. Bitter rage was sparking—held in far too long. Alex’s eyes don’t meet yours, so you grab him by the chin and angle his head up to you.

At the sight of your red sclera and the baggy gaze he stills. Under your grip his beard tickles you, the soft grip of flesh that makes you want to wrap your arms over him and weep; make him promise to never leave like that again.

“I…I wasn’t…”

“That’s the thing isn’t it—you didn’t think.” Sea glass floods over, going glossy; hurt etched into both of your faces as if carved from the same stone. But you don’t stop now, growling out as your skin burns. Alex isn’t sad that you’re angry, he’s sad he’s done this to you. “You disappeared, Alex. Laswell had to just drop all of this shit on me. I thought you had died.” You growl. “Do you know what that feels like?!”

“Sweetheart—”

“Shut up! You let me talk,” he falls silent, hand delicately coming up to grab your wrist. Not to pull you away, just to hold you. To feel your skin and the heat of it. You sniffle and his eyes break. “And the worst part of it was that if you had just asked I would have followed you right then and there.” Alex sharply looks back at you. “But the biggest insult was that you thought I would leave you—that you even considered that.”

Shock slowly gives way to a blank expression. He was confused, now.

Was that what you were angry about?

“You’re an idiot, Keller. Hot-headed. Cocky.” You shake your head, but a tiny smile begins to bleed onto Alex’s face. Watching you like you’d just sprung a million dollars on him. His grip slightly squeezes, calloused thumb running the span of your knuckles as you shake his head with your hand. “Damn nuisance to my health, is what you are.” Trying to remain angry is tough when he’s looking at you like that—starstruck—but you spit out, “It’s insulting that you thought I’d just give up on us that easily.”

“Most women don’t want a man who’s wanted for desertion, Doll,” Alex whispers, testing a smirk on his lips with his expression still strained.

“Arrogant!” your voice snaps. “Not a single brain cell in his stupid little head.” You let go of his chin and grip the sides of his skull, feeling the dirty but still soft strands of hair before you huff at him.

But he just looks at you and smiles, face smooshed.

“...You really came?” Alex asks quietly. You fall silent and after a moment you deflate.

After the silence of trying to keep the sneer on your face, you let it drop, lips quivering slightly. Anger glints with pain. “I should hit you upside the head, Keller, for all the worry you’ve put me through,” you grunt, eyes flashing over every new bruise on his face—every cut you’d have to re-learn. He looks tired.

Oh, Alex…

Before the blond can respond to you, you’ve captured the back of his head and shoved it into your chest; face burying itself into his scalp to bring forth that scent of dust and cologne. You whimper out as he grips you around the waist with just as much fervor, “Did you think that I would stay away?”

Alex says nothing, only the slight tremor in his bicep betraying him. You firmly kiss his skull and run your fingers through his hair, the both of you so tight together there’s barely enough room in your ribs to allow your lungs to inflate.

But holding him was more important than air, a sentiment that Alex seemed to share entirely.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Bug.” He mutters into your skin. “Feels good to be able to hold my girl again.”

You stay like that for a long time before you pull back and capture his cheeks, face pulling closer before you kiss him deeply. It’s not a fast-paced or desperate thing—no clashing teeth or tongue. That wasn’t what you needed right now.

All that you needed was Alex. Your home.

You both separate and the blond grabs the back of your neck, forcing you back so he can lay another on the side of your mouth; nose, cheek. Anywhere that he could reach as his mustache tickled you to a smile. Giggles worm out and you wiggle out of his grip to wipe at your cheeks, spreading away tiny tear tracks and saliva.

“Quit it,” you whisper, and Alex gazes up at you reverently from his chair.

“Negative, Ma’am,” he says, equally as soft, not even blinking. “Don’t wanna.” You roll your eyes, face hot.

The seconds draw long of only watching one another before you shake your head and move your hands to shimmy out of the dog tags around your neck. Alex’s gaze locks on the metal swiftly, smile shifting.

“You’re horrible.” You huff, quietly, before shoving his dog tags at his chest. “Now put them back on.”

“But I’m not in the—” Your glare shuts him up. Alex clears his throat sheepishly. “Yes, Ma’am.”

You nod and watch as they’re resituated around his neck. Right where they should be. When you take a step back to really take him in, there’s a moment where you skim over the state of his left leg. After all, the metal was barely noticeable in the dark. But when you do see it every little part of you shrivels up with confused pain.

Alex stands with a noticeable preference to his right and as he towers over you, fingers coming to grab at your face and slowly drag it back up.

A slightly apologetic look washes over him.

“I’m guessing you didn’t listen to all of the voicemails.”

“Alex…” you slowly cut off. “You…” Staring at the metal limb instead of the real one, you gape. “...how?”

“Y’know,” he laughs, but you don’t find this funny. He notices and kisses your forehead, tapping his scalp to yours and saying after a contemplative pause, “I think it’s better if I don’t explain it. I’m alright, just...” Alex smiles cheekily, the spark that you love coming back easily as it shimmers in his eyes, “just a little more carbon fiber and aluminum than I was before.”

You hug him tightly.

“I’m sorry, I should have come sooner—I was just angry, and I wasn’t—”

“Don’t apologize to me,” Alex sighs, grabbing you and maneuvering the both of you to the bed. He sits and you end up laying in his lap like that moment in the bathroom ages ago. “None of this is your fault, okay? You deserve to be angry. I shouldn’t have put such a burden on you.”

You sigh in his arms, head under his chin and heart finally able to return to a steady pace. Licking your lips, you ask, “Does it hurt?”

Sending a glance down, Alex’s lips twitch with a grin before it disappears. He hums.

“Sometimes.” Your hand grips his opposite cheek and you lay a kiss on his chin, caressing his flesh.

It’s a tentative kind of love. An understanding and a plea all at once.

The blond leans back against the wall and pulls you closer, closing his eyes. Finally relaxing for the first time in what seems like forever. But his girl is in his arms, and he’s never been this calm.

“I have a home in Urzikstan,” he confesses lightly, fingers brushing your body and giving way to shivers. You listen, eyes fluttering at the vibrations of his words. “It’s safe—protected. I…want us to live there.” Alex nods against your head, swallowing. “If you’ll come back with me.”

“Yes,” your answer is immediate. “Anywhere, as long as you’re with me.”

You feel his breath hitch, soft chuckles brushing your hair far better than any comb. There’s a small tremor in his voice as he says, “I love you. God, do I love you.”

Your lips pull up, body growing heavy with a final sense of home.

“I love you, too.” Soft kisses and tight arms. Shifting tattoos. “But if you ever do something like that again without talking to me, I’m telling Laswell she has permission to put a bullet in your ass.”

His loud laughs shake your body, and you press your face into his neck to steady yourself; smiling.

NEW TAGLIST SIGN-UP: Here

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm

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henneseyhoe · 7 months

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BEDROOM BULLY (a sequel)

Chiron x BLACK!FEM!Reader.

——>(Pt1)<——

WARNINGS:no protection(wrap it df up), dirty talk, rough seggsss, daddy kink, reader is kinda delusional, shortttt y’all know the deal, it’s nasty! just read it!

SUMMARY: Chiron took the reader back to his place after their car meet session and he shows her that his grillz ain’t the only thing that can shine!

Ps. I wanted to do this before the spooky shit lmao. Hope y’all enjoy.<3

✮✮✮✮

Legs shaking, toes curling, eyes rolling. You had reached an all time high with your friends slut-meter. You facetimed them right after getting ate like thanksgiving dinner, geeking in this man’s passenger seat like the man in question wasnt a few feet away and the bottom of your ass wasn’t soaking wet, your thighs sticking together like honey on skin.

“Was it good?”

“You really let him do that?!”

“How many times you came?”

All comments they blurted out to you after getting the deets, and you answered all questions in complete honesty.

“You so lucky! His friend babymama started calling when I pulled down my pants”

One of your friends complained, making you cackle. covering your mouth so he couldn’t hear you laughing like a hyena while looking through his trunk for something to wipe your legs off with, you heard many more questions from the curious girls.

“Did you see how big he was though? Or y’all ain’t get that far?”

“You gon let him fuck?”

“Let him fuck? Of course she is! If I was her I would have been on the dick, fuck getting a towel and callin’ you hoes!” one of your friends answered for you.

“It would take 100 surgeons to remove me from that dick”

“Ouuu, I saw how he looked at you too. I just know that dick heavy”

And your friend was indeed right. It was.

✮✮✮✮

“DAMN, BABY-“ you shook and cried out as you allowed him to break you in, knocking that pussy straight out the damn frame. He had your legs crisscrossed and pushed down towards your chest, his hands gripping tightly on both of your ankles to pin you down, as if you could go anywhere with how bad your legs were shaking, even with him holding them down. His hips smacked into you so hard that your ass and the back of your thighs was turning red, mimicking your tear irritated eyes. “I CANT! Please! slow down!” You shout as your sensitive pussy convulsed, but he gave no mercy. “Don’t cry now, take this dick like a big girl” he teases, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix with every thrust forward, it had you drooling. Dick drunk for however long he was gonna put it in your spine. It wouldn’t even matter how tired you were gonna be in the morning, you were thinkin’ of getting up, and making this nigga some breakfast for this good dick.

Nothing in the room could distract you from how he was making you feel, and when your eyes weren’t rolled to the back of your head, they were gawking at the flashing gold chain around his neck, the color matching the grillz in his mouth. The piece swung back and forth in your face as he fucked you, the moonlight from the broad window next to the bed making the cross pendant twinkle like stars in the same night sky that rested above.

“You like that shit, huh? You like how daddy makin’ you take that dick, don’t even front” He curses.

“Yes! It’s so fu-uckin’ deep” You struggled and whined again, your jaw starting to hurt from you biting down your teeth for so long. You saw why girls go so crazy for they man, alongside with the stars that were blurring your vision currently. He had already noticed the attraction you had for his jewelry, and it made him chuckle, a low groan following right after. “You like my chain too?”

You nod, answering. “Yes, daddy!”

“Aight. Be a good lil’ bitch for me and I’ll let you wear it. Now, cum on this dick”

The curve of his dick touched the end of your pussy, his hips connecting with yours completely as he begins to grind himself. Both of you were recently waxed and shaved so the skin to skin contact sent you overboard. Yes, he was shaved nicely. Yes, he was a real slut.

His pelvic rubbed against your clit as he slow wined his hips, letting you feel all 9inches of that big dick in your guts. Your legs had gone numb and stopped shaking, but that didn’t stop you from showing him his new favorite water toy. You wet up his plum colored sheets with a wail, making even darker stains as your cream and slick dripped out of you, some on your thighs, some on your ass, but most on his sheets and that hammer he called a dick.

“Mhm, let it out”

“You feelin’ that shit, ma”

“This dick got you goin’ dumb like that? Close ya mouth”

“You takin’ this dick like a champ too, I might keep you”

He talked shit like no other cause he knew he was fuckin’ you like he wanted to put a ring on it. He couldn’t say he didn’t imagine it for a split second in that one moment where he had you halfway off of the bed, drool dripping from your mouth and down your throat with his hands tangled in your bundles as he dipped his dick in and out of your mouth, your cheeks hollowed until your jaw ached and his abs tightened, indicating that he was about to bust, wasting all that nut that could have been inside you.

He stops grinding into you and unbends your legs, letting the blood flow finally get to where it needed to go. Honestly, you were already fucked out, but you didn’t wanna tell him that and have him thinking you were lying about taking dick. But maybe you should have, cause when he turned you over to your side and laid behind you, you knew it was over. He didn’t even care to ask you politely to widen your legs. he pulled that ass back, hiked your leg up on his and slipped himself right back into those walls that were forever molded to the shape of his dick.

“Uh-huh. Let me get in that pussy, baby”

“You stretchin’ me, daddy!”

You both moan simultaneously, your pussy gripping him like she wanted him to stay deep inside forever. This position had your stomach twisting and turning like a whirlpool washing machine, your clit jumping at his fingertips touch as he slips his arm under your propped up leg and starts rubbing at your swollen button while his hips work on getting his dick to massage the deepest part inside of you. It was gonna be a long week, maybe even month, cause you wasn’t gonna leave him alone.

✮✮✮✮

PSS. Me watching y’all eat pt1 up cause I did NOT expect that to blow up 💀 Thank y’all for the love tho 🤭🩷🩷

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starry-eyed-wild-child · 16 days

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tate langdon boyfriend headcanons

tate langdon x reader

. oh lord, buckle up guys, you're in for a wild one

. definitely fell first and 100% harder and you can't tell me otherwise

. we all know how tate is, he's very clingy and he's very very possessive of what's his. and that's how he views you, you're his and nobody else's

. would definitely stay hidden at first, just so he could watch you for a bit. at this point, there's nothing about you that tate doesn't know

. when you finally meet, tate swears he could die all over again and he'd die happy

. tate would definitely act more innocent than he actually is. this boy knows how to cry on command and he will use it to his advantage, don't think just because he loves you that he wouldn't

. if anything, he does it because he loves you and he can't have you leave him like violet did

. i hope you like nirvana, because tate will not listen to something that you like if he doesn't enjoy it. he's not very good at that

. tate always needs to be touching you. all the time. whether it's an arm around you or holding hands, this boy craves physical touch and to be the centre of your attention

. will probably try his best to get your friends to stop hanging around you so he can have you all to himself. will deliberately scare them to stop them from coming to the house

. would also certainly lie about ever doing such a thing were you to confront him about it

. tate wouldn't ever want you to ever leave the house., if he had his way that is. would hate it if you chose to spend time with other people

. like what did they have that he didn't?

. he would 100% be the type that watches you even when you're asleep. or anytime, really.

. would definitely want you to commit suicide, so that you can be with him forever. you of course find this idea insane and don't think he actually means it

. he does. he's 100% serious

. i can imagine that tate gives really good hugs though. the warm, bear hugs that you never want to leave because they make you feel so secure and safe

. is very big on comforting you after a bad day. he'll listen to your rants, let you cry in your arms, whatever you need him for and he'll do it

. let's be honest though, it's probably just another way he gains your trust so that you won't ever think of leaving him

. feels extremely guilty if he ever hurt you in any way, or upset you

. would probably just disappear for a few days because he can't face the fact that he's hurt you. but obviously he comes back because the boy can't help himself

. tate is your ride or die. he would die for you all over again if you asked him to and alternatively would kill for you if that's what you required

. makes silly little handmade gifts for you. tate can't leave the house so he has time to be creative

. board game nights/dates are very frequent with the two of you. it's even better if it's raining outside, it sets a nice vibe

. loves, loves halloween. the two of you would carve pumpkins together and sit for hours in your room telling ghost stories and drinking apple cider

. if tate had his own way, you'd never meet his mother

. you do eventually and she probably hates you lmao, but do we really care let's be real here

. tate is the kind of boyfriend that would make a playlist for you as a present

. he'd try his hardest to make sure you don't find out about his past. which lasted about 2 months max because you're not stupid

. violet, vivien and moira would try and protect you at all costs. they're like your three guardian angels, whether they decide to show themselves to you or not

. i imagine you'd actually get on with violet really well

. this could go one of two ways with tate. he'd love it, both girls he'd loved were getting along, makes his life easier. or, he'd hate it. hate that you choose to spend time with the girl that broke his heart

. isn't really big on nicknames tbh, he thinks your name is the most beautiful word he knows, and so he wouldn't dream of calling you anything else

. tate is 100% the little spoon, don't fight me on this

. absolutely lives for your affection. he thrives best on it

. would be sweet but low-key toxic, so solid 6/10

#ahs #ahs murder house #tate langdon #tate langdon x reader #evan peters #evan peters x reader

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slut4thebroken · 7 months

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Meant to Be

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x innocent intern!reader

Summary | You and Dr. Crane can finally be together.

Warnings | NON CON sexual content, 18+, rape, kidnapping, drugged, forced relationship, crying, innocence kink, forced kissing, praise, anal, no lube, no prep, painful sex, housewife kink?, promises of forced breeding lol, a lil ooc, delulu!Crane <3

Words | 1.7 k

Notes | READ THE WARNINGS. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CHOOSE TO VIEW. This was based off of a Reddit audio lmao so enjoy :)

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Your eyes opened slowly, but when you realized you weren’t in your bed, you felt instantly more alert— rapidly looking around the room to try and remember where you were and how you got here. You still felt foggy and tired from waking up, but it was almost overshadowed by fear now.

You saw Dr. Crane across the room and your heavy, panicked breathing alerted him to your newfound consciousness. You suddenly realized what was happening and why you weren’t at your home. When he moved closer, you let out a panicked whimper, holding back tears as you tried to move, but being unable to because of the restraints on all four of your limbs.

“Shh, shh… Don’t cry, angel. You’re safe now.” He said softly and you let out a choked sob as you shook your head to disagree. “Yes… No one can hurt you here.” You shook your head more violently, but immediately stopped when you got dizzy. “Are you still a little fuzzy, darling? The drug should wear off very soon, don’t worry.”

“Drug?” You whimpered, voice barely audible.

“Yes. You had a little too much to drink at the staff party last night and I offered to take you home. You were so drunk that you didn’t even question the pill I gave you.” He laughed warmly, making your stomach drop. “I had a whole plan for our first time together, but when I saw you at the party… you just looked so beautiful, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Please let me go.” You whimpered and he shushed you.

“I know you like playing hard to get but we’re here now, there’s no need to continue acting coy.” When he sat down on the bed next to your hips, you writhed in the restraints, trying so hard to get some distance. “Look at you squirming…” he cooed, “I’m excited too, darling. I won’t make you wait much longer, I just want to savor this moment— I’ve been planning this for so long.” He reached out to pet your hair and you flinched away from his touch, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to get yourself to wake up from this nightmare.

“I started planning it right after your interview, if you can believe it. The second I saw you, I knew you were the one.” He stroked your hair, ignoring the grimace on your face as you tried to stifle your cries. “But I bided my time, waiting for the right moment. I let you think you were making a real difference with that internship even though we both knew you weren’t. You just looked so adorable trying so hard to gain my praise and approval.”

“Dr. Crane..” You whimpered, desperate for him to snap out of whatever trance he was in. There’s no way that your boss— your mentor— has been thinking about you this way the whole time.

“I know, angel. I know you felt the same— I could see it. And now we’re finally together.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, making you whine uncomfortably and try to turn your head away. He just grabbed your jaw to hold you still as he kissed you. After a torturously long moment, he pulled back so that his lips brushed yours, then whispered, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

He kissed you again, this time licking at your tightly sealed lips. When you wouldn’t open your mouth, he tightened his grip on your jaw and forced it open, letting his tongue slip inside. His free hand cupped your covered breast, lightly squeezing, making your cheeks heat up from embarrassment at the unfamiliar act. He pulled your dress down enough to free your breast, then started rolling your nipple between his fingers, forcing a gasp out of you.

He kissed across your jaw, then down your neck and chest, and you couldn’t hold down the whimper when his hot mouth enveloped your nipple. He sucked and licked teasingly, occasionally biting, making you wince.

“So perfect.” He whispered, moving to your other breast to give it the same treatment. “You are so beautiful, darling.” His hands met your thighs and he started slowly snaking them up.

“No..” You whimpered, squirming away from his touch and letting out a soft sob as he leaned up again.

“Yes. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He said softly, clearly not understanding what you actually meant. When he started pushing your dress up your body, your crying intensified.

“Please, I— I’m a… Please don’t do this.” He shushed you and gently brushed your hair back.

“I know you’re pure, angel. I have no intention of taking that from you right now.” You almost breathed a sigh of relief. “I can’t fuck you there— not yet.” The second the meaning of his words registered in your head, you started thrashing again, trying to get away, especially when he ripped your panties clean off your body. You were suddenly hit with the realization that this was actually happening— this was real.

“No! Please don’t!” You sobbed, kicking your legs as much as you could in the restraints.

“Be a good girl and I’ll prep you first.” You couldn’t help it though. You screamed and cried and fought until he lost his patience. “Fine. You want to act like a little brat? Then that’s how you’ll be treated.” He spat, quickly opening his pants and shoving them down enough to remove his cock.

“No!” You cried, trying to squirm away from him.

“Stop it.” He hissed. “I’m trying to be nice— What happened to my good girl, hm?”

“Please let me go.” You whimpered, letting out a choked sob when he settled between your legs. He used what little slack there was in the rope holding your ankles to bend your legs slightly, giving him better access. When he lined himself up with your entrance and added some pressure, you sobbed more intensely, begging him to just let you go.

The blunt head of his cock pushed harder against your hole and when it finally breached your opening, you let out a shrill scream, making him place a hand over your mouth.

“Oh fuck…” He groaned, closing his eyes as his mouth opened in a silent moan. “So fucking tight.” He didn’t stop until he was all the way in and your cries turned violent as your body quivered with pain and fear. “I know, baby, I’m so happy I could almost cry too. And you’re doing such a good job— taking me so well.” He slowly dragged his hips back until only the tip was inside, then pushed in just as slow, continuing that pace.

“Good fucking girl.” He moaned. “I know it hurts but I couldn’t possibly take your innocence from you— not until the time is right. That’s why I have to keep fucking your ass for a while.” You let out a strangled cry at the thought of this happening again and shook your head as much as you could with his hand on your mouth. “I know, but I have to wait, sweet girl. Once you’re ready, then I’ll fuck that little pussy— put a baby in you.” Your eyes widened and you let out another sob in response. “I’m going to make you a mommy. Would you like that, angel?” He asked softly and you shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Maybe not yet. But soon enough you’ll grow to love your new life here— as my little housewife. You won’t have to worry about anything else other than keeping me happy and giving me babies.” He cooed, gently cupping your cheek with his free hand, making you flinch. His thrusts turned more forceful and rough, getting worked up by his own words. He rutted into you desperately, chasing his orgasm and ignoring your muffled sobs and pleas.

“God- I can’t wait to come home from work everyday, find you in the kitchen cooking our dinner, your belly nice and full.” He moved his free hand down to rub at your belly, feeling the phantom baby bump. “You’re gonna look so pretty all swollen with my baby.” He all but whined.

He suddenly released your mouth and before you could try and scream again, he was kissing you, forcing his tongue in your mouth as his hips humped into you desperately. You just laid there frozen as you cried, not able to make yourself do anything else. He pulled back, but his lips were still brushing yours.

“Don’t worry, angel. I’m still gonna fuck this needy little pussy.” His hand moved from your belly to lightly rub at your clit. “But maybe after you push out my kid, I’ll give your cunt a break until you’re all healed.”

“No,” You cried, not wanting anything he was promising.

“I know you’re not ready yet, sweetheart.” He uttered softly, making you whimper and shake your head. “But you don’t need to be nervous, you’re going to make a great mommy— god I'm so excited to see you like that.”

His thrusts turned frenzied now, rutting into you at a brutal pace. He moved his hand from your clit to your hole, gathering what little arousal you had, then bringing his hand back up to suck it off his fingers with a vulgar moan.

“Fuck— I can’t wait to taste you properly.” He said through a heavy breath. His sounds grew louder and his movements more forceful until he finally buried his head in the crook of your neck again with a low groan. His hips snapped into you once more before stilling all the way inside.

“Keep squeezing me like that..” He said through a breath. You whined uncomfortably and he shushed you, then cooed, “I know— it feels good for me too, baby.” He panted as he came down from his orgasm, then lifted his head to look at you.

“I love you so much, angel. I can’t believe I got so lucky.” He said softly, cupping your cheek. You kept crying and he wiped the tears as they fell. “I know. You’re too overwhelmed with emotions right now— I am too. But you’ll adjust soon, then we can just be happy together. We can finally be a family, like we were meant to be.”

Taglist (join here)

@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @faebirdie @cillianscrybaby @vivvive @ceruleanrainblues @mrkdvidal1989 @brooklynscherry-z @ohmysatansstuff @d1lf-loverthinqs @butlersluvbot (didn’t let me tag ->) @miyababby @bluujaiwrites @n1ghtw1ngslver @idkdudsworld

#jonathan crane x reader smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane #he is delulu #like genuinely so delulu

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 2 months

Note

could you do something where the reader has to use a safe word with ethan? Like the reader either got overstimulated or something hurt, and then ethan comforts the reader? whatever is easiest for you :)

HI! I hope you like it :)

Don't Let Me Go - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: Things with Ethan get a little too intense, so you have to use your safe word.

Contains: Fluffy, comforting Ethan. Rough sex - p in v(not super crazy or detailed, just kinda there for plot purposes lmao), Reader obviously gets hurt because safe word.

A/N: I'm trying to get through some of my shorter requests, and I have SO MANY that I have right now that I can't wait to write.

Occasionally, Ethan liked to be rough during sex. You had your safe word, and though you’ve never had to use it, he always promised that if he ever heard it, everything would stop.

Ethan was really stressed after a crazy week, and you knew the perfect way to help him release his tension. The first round was really sweet. He just kept thanking you for helping him feel better. The second round was more intense with multiple position changes, and your legs were so weak from riding him for as long as you did. By the third round, you were starting to get really overstimulated.

“Ethannn,” you whimpered, trying to pull your hips away from him as he had your face shoved in the comforter.

He grabbed your hips tighter, pulling them back towards him. He was so deep that the tip of his cock kept slamming against your cervix, and you were trying to wait for the pain to ease and start to feel good.

You were starting to tear up as his pace got even faster.

“That feel good, baby?” He asked, as sobs started to slip past your lips. It didn’t feel good, it just kept getting more painful.

“Red!” You choked out, the pain in your voice evident as his hips drastically slowed down, before completely stopping.

He slowly slid out of you and adjusted your legs so your ass was no longer sticking up in the air.

“Hey,” he said, as he laid on the bed beside you. “I’m sorry, baby.”

You couldn’t stop crying as he pulled you close. You knew he wasn’t intentionally trying to hurt you, but you were still so shaken up by the pain your body was feeling.

“Baby, I’ve got you. It’s okay,” he said, rubbing his hand along your back as you cried into his chest.

“I was waiting for it to feel good but it didn’t,” you sobbed, as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you,” he said, feeling so guilty for your current state. “Thank you for stopping me though. Can we talk about what took it too far? I don’t ever want to hurt you like this again.”

You nodded against his chest as he waited for you to speak. “You were just so deep and I’m really sensitive right now,” you said, your voice still shaky from the sobbing. “I kept trying to push through it. I knew you needed to let the aggression out.”

“Baby, no…I don’t care how stressed I am. Don’t ever feel like you need to suffer to make me feel good. It’s supposed to feel good for you, too,” he said, as you sat up a little to look at him. He reached up to wipe your tears off your cheeks before he continued, “Do you do this often? Like, do you keep going when it’s too much because you think it’s what I need?”

“No, that’s the first time it’s ever happened.” He sighed in relief as you laid your head back down on his chest. “Even if it does hurt a little at first, it’s always started to feel good.”

He wrapped his arms around you and held you close as you started to calm down.

“I love you, baby. Thank you for stopping me.”

“I love you, too,” you said, running your fingertips along his chest. “Can we take a shower together?”

“Of course, babe. You stay here, I’ll go get everything ready,” he said, sliding out from underneath of you and leaving the room.

He walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower, adjusting the water to the perfect temperature. He grabbed the fluffiest towels out of the linen closet before he came back to the room to get you.

He helped you off the bed, holding you close to him as he walked you towards the bathroom. Once the hot water was running over your body, he grabbed your loofah and body wash to clean your body for you.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he said, watching the suds wash off your body. “Come here.”

He stood under the water with you, hugging you as he placed kisses to your shoulder.

“Can we just cuddle and relax for the rest of the night?” You asked, as he rubbed his fingertips up your back.

“I wouldn’t want to do anything else, baby.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #smut #scream

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marvellous1917 · 24 days

Text

Icarus Falling Far From.

(Part 4)

Pairing: mob!bucky x tattoo artist!female!reader

Summary: Bucky comes face to face with the ones fucking his shit up, he’s all stressed and the reader just wants to make out.

Warnings: mentions of crime (guns,drugs,murder [he’s a monster babes]), swearing, guns, reader being threatened with a gun (oops), threat of violence, talking about feelings (ew), think that’s it-if I’m missing any let me know.

Word count: 3.9k ish

A/n: hey guys, hope you enjoy this shit lmao, I truly have absolutely no idea where I’m going with this.

(This is not beta’d we die like men.)

Part 3 : Icarus Falling Far

Masterlist

————

Bucky’s thoughts in italics

Readers thoughts in bold

————

Fuck.

Fuucckk.

“It’s you.” Bucky states, his voice steady, hiding the confusion running through his head.

“It’s us,” Frank responds, “gotta be honest, we’ve had a lot of fun fucking up your shit.”

Frank stood with a smug smirk on his face, while the man with the buzz cut, and with scars covering his face, the light outside casting a grim portrait, stands with a big grin - both completely unaffected by the gun being pointed at them.

“Does she know?” Bucky asks, years of being screwed by people he trusted rearing back and kicking his trust issues into his gear.

Please say no, please tell me she’s not a part of this.

No. Not her.

“Y/n? Bet it break your cold heart if we said yes, huh?” Billy quips, with that stupid grin now a permanent fixture on his face. “That sweet pretty girl you though actually liked you, was actually just getting us this in, see we have proposition for- ”

“DOES SHE KNOW?” Bucky lets his voice rise, tired of the games the other men were playing.

“No, and we are gonna keep it that way you hear me, don’t drag that kind girl into this cruel world.” Curtis states, stepping forward as if to cut Billy off from responding.

Shit, I can’t let you look down and see me waving a gun in your friends faces.

“She doesn’t need to know. She’s not made for this world, not like us. So how about you put the gun away before she starts looking out that window.” Frank says, eyes flicking to your window to make sure you’re not witnessing this tense conversation.

Bucky slowly lowers the gun into his pocket, but keeps his hand tight on the weapon, just as a precaution.

Please be true, to whatever bastard higher power up there, please be true.

“Not like us?” Bucky says, parroting the other man’s words, “in what world are we the same?”

“Well I mean you and Curtis probably share the most similar physicality,” Billy states, chuckling a little at his own joke.

Bucky’s eyes flit to the quiet man on the left, recalling his earlier thoughts.

“What Bill means to say is that I know what’s it’s like to loose a limb in combat-”

“I didn’t loose my arm in combat.” His voice was deep and unwavering, even while the horrid memories came to the front of his mind, “you have no idea what I went through.”

“We know some. Rumors fly in the military.” Franks states, “we were all Marines together, and after Curtis lost his leg, I became a Navy Seal and Bill here became a Scout Sniper for the Marine Corps Reconnaissance. We’ve had our fair share of being screwed over by those in authority.”

“Am I supposed to give a shit? All that crap is behind me, what I care about is my business now, the same business that you three have been fucking up for the past week. So what the fuck do you want and what the fuck does Y/n have to do with it?” Bucky growls out, his patience slipping.

“We mean no harm, not to you, and especially not to Y/n-”

“I’m supposed to believe that, you used her to get to me right? If you cared about her you wouldn’t have done that-” Bucky begins before he gets cut off.

“Don’t you dare say that we don’t care about her!” Billy almost shouts stepping forward before stopping when Bucky brings the gun out of his pocket and lets it rest by his side.

“Y/n is one of the few things in this world we care about, she’s family okay, and we would never hurt her-” Curtis says

“Really, then how would you say she’s gonna feel if I go back to her apartment and tell her all about this, huh?” Bucky calls back

“You’re not gonna do that though, are ya? Because you know if you did, it’d break her heart, and you don’t wanna do that do ya Buck? Not when ya like her so much?” The words come from Billy, the annoying grin back in his face.

“What make you think I care that much?” Bucky says, even though his thoughts state the opposite.

I do. I do care.

“If you didn’t you would have shot us already.” Frank responds with a very valid point.

That makes Bucky clench his jaw and tense his gun wielding hand.

“All we want is a business meeting okay, talk about a potential partnership.” Frank stars crossing his arms, staring unklinking at Bucky.

“A partnership? It’s gonna take more than you fucking up a few things for me to even think about considering that. And what the hell would I get out of a partnership with you three?” Brucky responds, seriously considering just shooting the three men dead on the street.

“Well that’s something we can talk about later, but just so you know we have our hands in some business ourselves and more than enough bodies to keep our shit going, but we’d all be a hell of a lot richer if we worked together” Curtis states, shifting his weight onto his good leg.

“Plus just think about how happy our girl will be if we all got on.” Billy chimes in with a quick wink.

Our girl. OUR girl? God I wanna shoot these assholes.

Bucky keeps his calm facade up, unwilling to show the man that his words affected him.

“Fine. Be at the Comandos bar at 8 pm tomorrow, just you three, no weapons.” Bucky responds, wanting this conversation to be over.

The three men share quick look’s between themselves, and then Frank steps forward with his hand out towards Bucky and says “We’ll be there.”

Bucky doesn’t even look at them before turning quickly and walking back into the building, pulling out his phone to call Steve.

Frank chuckles, puts his hand down and turns to get in the car.

“Think he’ll tell her?” Curtis asks.

“Nah. He likes her too much.” Billy replies, while opening the door and getting in.

—————

What the hell is taking him so long? God I hope the boys didn’t catch him and give the whole ‘if you hurt her we’ll kill you’ talk. The boys are scary but Bucky’s a damn mobster.

The heavy knock on the door stops your pacing, and cause you to run to the door and pull it open to see the aforementioned mobster.

He doesn’t even say anything before barging in, kicking the door closed behind him while his hands go straight to the sides of your face, pulling your lips to his. His grip is gentle, but his mouth is bruising, his teeth nipping your bottom lip.

You pull back to catch your breath, leaning your forehead on his and catching your breath.

“Not even a hello? You missed me that much?” You flirt quietly, whispering into his mouth, hand clutching his waist through his coat.

“More than you know darlin’ I needed to see you…and touch you,” Bucky responds, silently thinking I needed to make sure you were okay.

Oh please do.

“All I’m hearing is the big bad mobster saying he needs me” you tease, praying he didn’t take offence, yeah he’s sweet and lovely but I’ve only gotten a tiny glimpse at the other side of him.

“Is that how you see me?” He leans back to his full height, staring down into your eyes, dropping his hands to his sides.

Shit.

Bucky grips your wrists and takes your hands off his body, moving them into his metal hand, the surface cold on your skin. You scramble to respond, wanting to tell him you thought the opposite, but his flesh hand moves to his pocket before you can talk.

“Big bad mobster huh? Oh doll you have no idea,” he says with an indiscernible look on his face, pulling out his glock.

Oh fuck, I was only teasing.

“Wait Buck-“ you start before he cuts you off.

“Y/n…Are you scared of me?” He asks, his grip on your wrists loose enough that you could get out of his grip if you wanted to.

You didn’t move. Looking into his eyes, an overwhelming feeling of calm takes over, the blue of his eyes the same as the sky after a storm.

“…no. I’m not.” I probably should be but apparently I’m crazy.

“Do you think I’m bad?” He asks.

All the stories, all the rumours, the memory of your first meeting, and the call he took in the shop come flooding to the forefront of your mind. That he’s a man with no mercy, cares for nothing and no one - except money, sex, and violence.

“…not to me.” You answer.

He pulls his arm up, holding the glock in between your faces, showing it to you. The bottom of his tattoo- your tattoo- sticks out from under his sleeve.

A normal person without a broken brain would take this as a threat. Why am I attracted to this?

He makes eye contact with you over the barrel, turning his hand and resting the muzzle on your cheek, but there is no fear in you, you can see his trigger finger resting on the side of the barrel.

“Do you trust me Y/N?” Bucky asks, his eyes not moving from yours.

You take a second to think about it.

The man is a fucking mobster for Christs’ sake. He’s a criminal, a gun runner, a drug trafficker, and not to mention a killer. His kills have hit the news before, no evidence proving it was his organisation, but everyone knows. It doesn’t matter if it was Bucky that pulled the trigger, held the knife, planted the bomb, nothing happened that wasn’t on his order. Can I really trust a man like that?

Your hesitation to answer has an effect on Bucky. He moves the gun, dragging it down your neck and resting the muzzle in the dip of your collar bone. You look down at his hand, finger still nowhere near he trigger.

“Y/n.” He calls quietly. Your eyes jump back to his and he speaks again, “do you think I would ever hurt you?”

That question has an answer you don’t have to think about.

“Not unless I did something to deserve it.” Your attempt at humour was immediately seen to be the wrong answer.

He sticks the gun back in your face, muzzle pushing between you lips, scratching your teeth. The movement causes your eyes to go wide, fear slipping onto your face.

“Did you do something to deserve it? Have you fucked me over Y/n?” His voice is tense, deadly serious, an unstable look in his eyes, his metal hand tightening on your wrists.

You lean back a little to answer, “…no, no of course not Buck. What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

He stares at you for what feels like hours, his face perfectly still, not giving anything away.

She doesn’t know. She truly has no idea. Thank fuck.

He drops the gun and lets go of your wrists, taking a few steps back, giving you space.

“I’m sorry doll, I’ve just had very hard day, some new information was given to me and it’s fucked me up a bit. I’m sorry Y/n, truly I am, I didn’t mean to freak you out.” His hands run through his hair, pulling at it harshly. “Shit darlin’, what the hell was I doing?” He mumbles the last bit to himself.

“Buck..Bucky, hey calm down, it’s okay-” you start before he talks again.

“It’s not okay! I just put a fucking gun in your face.” He keeps rambling, seeming like a whole other person than he was a minute ago.

“Buck! Stop, stop jabbering,” you grab his wrists, taking his hands from his hair and pulling him towards you.

He stops talking, and stares at your hands in his, the metal of his prosthetic shining a stark contrast against your skin.

You take a second to look at him, eyes studying his face. He looks worried, and a little scared.

Huh, didn’t know a mobster could get scared. Is he’s scared of me and what I’m gonna say… or is he scared of himself?

“You don’t scare me Buck…you probably should, but you don’t. ‘Cos you’ve been nothing but good to me, even a minute ago when you were acting weird, I knew you weren’t gonna do anything-”

“How? How did you trust me to not hurt you, when I was waving my glock in your face?”

“You had your finger on the barrel”

He’s silent for a few seconds, thinking over what you said. He takes a deep breath, meeting your eyes.

“I don’t know what to say,” Bucky responds.

“Then don’t say anything.” You say, the imagine of him with a gun in his hand fresh in your mind.

That whole episode should not have been as hot as it was. Shit I’m fucked up.

Bucky stares at you (he does that a-lot), unsure of his next move.

“Kiss me, dumbass.”

He moves before you can blink, his hands gently grabbing your face and pulling you to him. His kiss takes your breath away, gentle but firm. Your hands grip his elbows, encouraging him to keep going.

He takes the hint (thank fuck) and splits your lips with his tongue, his nose pressed hard against your cheek. He moves his hands down to your hips, gripping hard. Your hands grip the back of his head, fingers playing with his hair, tugging at it slightly when he completely deepens the kiss, your tongues tangling together. He lets out a quiet groan at the feeling, taking his left hand off your hip and tensing it by his side. You break the kiss when you feel the loss of his touch.

You take a second to catch your breath, Bucky leaning his head against yours.

“Why did you take your hand off me?” You ask.

“What?” He responds, the small dazed look on his face making you chuckle a little.

“Your hand, I liked it where it was.”

“Oh..that. It’s uh..it’s pretty strong, I can’t tell how hard I’m holding something, I can’t feel it so I tend to hold things a bit too hard… I broke like 5 cups in the past week-” he answers, stuttering his way through the sentence.

“Stop talking Buck, and you say I ramble,” You say, putting your finger to his lips. He stops talking, and you continue, “I trust you Buck, I’ll tell you if you’re holding me too hard. Plus I like it a little rough.” You finish with a wink at him, pulling his hand back to your waist.

He drops his head back, eyes closed and takes a deep breath in. He mumbles under his breath something that sounds like ‘god you’re perfect’, then he crashes his lips back into yours, both hands tightening on your hips.

He moves faster now, more intense with his kiss, his teeth scraping yours slightly and he presses you backwards, walking with you until you bump into the wall, his flesh hand stopping your head from hitting it.

Aww how sweet. The thought is thrown from your head when Bucky drops his head and presses kisses to your jaw, his hand curling in your hair to pull your head back, exposing your neck to him.

“Oh shit,” you whisper, as he licks a long stripe up your neck, nipping at the pulse points he finds. Your hands drop to his hips and pull him flush to you, groaning when you feel how much you’ve affected him. He kisses his way back to your lips, his metal hand moving to rest on the side of your neck, thumb resting in the front of your neck. Bucky gives you a long hard kiss then pulls back breathing hard.

“God girl, you are gonna be the death of me,” he whispers, lips brushing against yours as he talks.

“Fuck I hope not,” you respond, pulling his hips tighter against yours making him choke back a groan at the feeling.

His phone starts to ring.

Fuck off.

You pull him to you again, lips trailing across his jaw.

“Shit doll, wait a second baby-” he starts before you cut him off.

“Wait? Wait for what Buck, you don’t want me?” You tease, brushing your nose along his.

He crashes his lips against yours, his ringtone fading as his kiss overtakes your mind. Bucky pulls back after a few seconds, growling softly before stepping back to pull his phone out of his pocket.

“Are you seriously gonna answer that?” You ask, incredulous to his action.

“I have to darlin, could be an emergency,” he answers, taping the screen to answer. He puts the phone to his ear and says, “talk to me.”

You ignore his conversation, grabbing his metal hand to inspect it. The plates shift as you turn it over to look at the palm.

What an incredible feat of engineering, I wonder how it works. And how it feels-

Your dirty thoughts are cut short as he pulls his hand out of your grip, turning and taking a few steps away from you. His voice is quiet, probably to keep you from hearing whatever illegal shit they were discussing.

You jump when he shouts.

“THE FUCK? Rogers you get them to find more information on those shitheads, or I swear to fuck I will rip their fucking hearts out. I don’t care anymore, this shit needs to stop right the fuck now!” He stops his tirade and listens to ‘Rogers’ on the other side for a few second before he starts up again, “I know that asshole…one of the fuckers is married, find the wife… I have no idea if she’s involved man, I doubt it but she’d be good leverage… and get me some more information on their business so I’m not going into this shit show unprepared.”

That gets your full attention. Find the wife? Leverage? And do what? Threaten her? Hurt her? …kill her?

A shiver rips its way down your spine at that thought.

Would he do that? If she’s not a part of the issue, would he still hurt her? He already proved he’d hurt anyone that fucked him over, proved that when he stuck his gun in my mouth.

“Yeah…I know, get Stark on it, send Talia and Barton out too, see if they can get any news on the street… tell Barton to keep his cool, I don’t need anymore shit right now” Bucky says, switching the phone to his metal hand, using his flesh one to pull at his hair again.

His back is still turned to you, his coat stretches over his shoulder, the back rising with his hand in his hair.

He has a gun in his waistband.

Your eyes flit to the glock he drop on the floor earlier, and back to the one tucked in his waistband.

Is two guns really necessary?

Your answer comes with his next sentence.

“Fuck Steve I know that…you think I got this far without any personal protection? I’m good if anything happens man but I don’t think it will, they seemed pretty insistent on the fact they meant no harm..”

He continues to talk for a minute until he ends the call with a quick “get it done Steve, or we’re all fucked.” He places the phone back in his pocket, takes a few deep breaths and turns back to you with a tense look on his face. He takes another deep breath and steps towards you. Without meaning to you take a step back, hitting the wall behind you. Bucky stops as soon as he sees your movement.

“Sorry about that sweetheart, didn’t mean to upset ya.” He says, his voice quiet and calm, as if he was talking to a injured dog.

You let the silence linger for a second, deciding whether or not to ask the question that was begging to be said.

Fuck it.

“What are you going to do to her?”

He tilts his head at the question, unsure of what you’re talking about.

You take pity on his confusion.

“The wife? What are you going to do when you find her?”

Something settles in his eyes, his mouth twisting into a grim line.

“Nothing…unless I have to.” Bucky responds.

His answer does nothing to calm your pounding heart.

“You mean you won’t do anything unless you find out she’s involved?”

“Yes.”

“So you won’t do anything if she’s not a part of …whatever it is?” You ask.

“That’s right.” He nods with his answer.

“Except use her as leverage?”

He’s silent for a moment, and sighs as he rolls his left shoulder. He doesn’t break eye contact, and he’s completely resigned to whatever his answer is about to be.

“If I have to.” There is no lie in his voice, no guilt or remorse in his eyes.

Holy fuck. There’s the soldier again, the man with no mercy, does whatever he needs to come out on top.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself.

He wouldn’t hurt me. Would he?

He answers like he heard your thought.

“It’s business doll, we do what we have to do. Sometimes it’s rough and bad and awful and yes, people get hurt. Sometimes even innocent people get hurt. But I will never apologise for being the one that does the hurting, me and mine have had our fair share of getting hurt, and I’d rather hurt and use some people I don’t care about, than watch my people, my family, get hurt. I will not allow that to happen, not when I can to something about it.” He stands straight, like a soldier. The conviction in his voice actually makes you feel calmer.

Assuming I’m someone he cares about, I should be fine, right?

It slips off your tongue before you can catch it.

“Do you care about me?” You shift your weight as you talk, unsure if you actually want to hear the answer.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” He states, his tone steady.

“Say it properly,” you demand, crossing your arms over your chest, a subconscious way of protecting yourself, “I need you to say it properly Bucky.”

He shifts his weight now, seemingly uncomfortable.

“Yes… I do care about you,” he answers, clearing his throat in the middle of his statement, “do you care about me?”

You were unprepared for him to flip it back on you.

“I need you to answer truthfully Y/n. Do you care about me, as I am? The ‘big bad mobster’” he says, taking a step closer to you, and taking another when you don’t move away from him.

“The man who broke into your flat to threaten your roommate who owes me? The one who was going to shoot your friends dead on the street? The one who stuck a gun in your face? I’m a killer Y/n, a fucking mobster, and I’m not changing any time soon. Do you care about me as I am?” He asks, reminding you of the shit he’s done since you met him, not even counting the things you haven’t heard about.

You take a second to consider his questions.

I think I do, how fucked am I that I do?

You finally clock what he said.

“You were going to shoot who dead on the street?!”

————

hehehehe I feel like an evil mastermind.

If you are not tagged here- I either will tag you in a separate post- or I cannot tag you for some reason.

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#mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky fic #mob!bucky x tattoo artist!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x female!reader

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weemssapphic · 10 months

Text

You Make Me Feel

Larissa Weems x f!reader

Summary: At 49 years old, Larissa Weems is the principal of Nevermore Academy - a successful career woman whose dominating energy demands respect from everyone she comes into contact with. She is also a virgin. What happens when she finally meets someone who wants to have sex (and so much more) with her?

Words: ~6.6 | ao3 link in title

Content/warnings: virgin!Larissa, internalized homophobia, hurt/comfort, nsfw (sickeningly sweet smut) - cunnilingus, vaginal fingering

A/N: after reading Hot Chocolate on ao3, I couldn't get the idea of virgin Larissa out of my brain so... here we are lmao

Larissa didn’t really know how it happened - the years had simply passed her by in a blur. She was a studious teenager, scoffing at her horny, unfocused peers. It’s not that she never had the opportunity, per se - there were boys who asked her out, who tried to ‘seduce’ her in that awkward, teenage boy way. They all disgusted her - she would wait until college, she reasoned, where she could find someone more mature.

So she left Nevermore behind for her studies. Here, the men - if they could be called such - were just as crude, just as unappealing. The thought of being touched by any one of them filled her with disgust.

It wasn’t until her senior year of college, when she found herself smitten with one of her female professors, that she entertained the thought of being anything other than straight. It was a thought that had only crossed her mind once before, when she’d accidentally caught her roommate at Nevermore, Morticia Frump, getting undressed. She’d felt oddly… aroused at seeing the girl’s bare skin - and immediately pushed down those feelings. Larissa Weems was enough of a freak as it was - she didn’t need the label ‘lesbian’ stamped on her as well.

But at the age of 22, Larissa had to admit that it was strange she’d never wanted a boy to touch her. She’d gotten close once, during a heavy drunken make-out session with some boy at a freshman party - before freaking out completely and leaving the poor boy squirming uncomfortably at the edge of the lake. And so, at the age of 22, Larissa finally had to confront her very un-platonic feelings for women.

By the age of 49, she’d gone through all the stages of grief regarding her sexuality: she’d vehemently denied entertaining the very thought of being anything other than straight. She’d been angry, oh so angry - at herself, at the world, at Morticia, at the boy she’d kissed. She’d gone through all the what-ifs: what if she’d made a move on Morticia, what if she hadn’t been so uptight, what if her family had been more accepting. She’d even fallen into a bout of depression, realizing how sad and pitiful she was for being a lonely virgin who hated herself for something she couldn’t change.

She’d finally settled on acceptance. Larissa had accepted that she was a lesbian. But, through all those years, she’d been too busy hating herself and throwing herself into her work to entertain thoughts of actually dating. So now she was 49. And a virgin. And who would want to be with a 49 year old virgin?

Sometimes, Larissa could ignore those thoughts, push them down. Sex and dating aren’t everything, she’d reason. She didn’t need anyone else. She had a successful career that kept her busy enough, after all - it was her dream as a teenager, wasn’t it?

Some days, though - days like today - it was harder to drown out the lonely, self-pitying thoughts. Days where she had a one-on-one meeting with you, for example.

As one of the teachers at Nevermore, Larissa found you particularly alluring - everything about you seemed to draw her in, leave her wanting more. You carried yourself with such confidence, you challenged Larissa in ways that both delighted and aroused her. You were kind and chatty, interested in what Larissa had to say - she felt she could talk to you for hours.

And you looked so delicious. In her weakest moments, Larissa imagined how it would feel to have a woman’s hands on her body - and more often than not, it was your hands she pictured, your face that surfaced in her mind as she pleasured herself. She yearned to feel your lips on her own, your body pressed against hers. How delightful it would feel to finally, finally be touched, to finally feel desired.

Today was no different - when you knocked on her office door for the start of your quarterly review, Larissa had to take a moment to compose herself before calling out “come in.” Her breath hitched in her chest as you strode up to her desk, grinning widely and taking a seat across from her.

The review of your performance took no time at all - you were honestly one of her best teachers, well-liked by the staff and the students (even Wednesday Addams had yet to cause an issue in your class). With twenty minutes left of your scheduled meeting time, the two of you began to chat about various, non-school-related subjects. Larissa found herself relaxing more and more, and before she realized what she was doing, she found herself asking if you’d like to join her in her quarters at the end of the day for a glass of wine and a chat.

“Of course, Larissa.” You beamed, sounding eager - was it Larissa’s imagination, or had a faint blush crept up your cheeks?

After agreeing to come by at 7, you took your leave to prepare for your afternoon classes - Larissa walked you to the door, which she leant against as soon as it shut behind you. Oh God, what had possessed her? An entire evening in your presence would be torture for her…

The worst part, somehow, was the fact that she knew you liked women - you’d brought up an ex-girlfriend once, Larissa had been taking a sip of coffee at the time and had nearly begun to choke. It was entirely plausible that you could… Larissa quickly shook the thought from her head. Even if you returned her affections, surely you’d hightail it out of there the second you found out how little experience Larissa had.

~~~

The afternoon passed quickly and soon Larissa found herself nervously pacing the length of her office, smoothing her sweaty palms over her dress to remove non-existent wrinkles.

Your knock sounded for the second time that day, and Larissa jumped at the sound. With a deep breath, she slipped into the persona she’d begun to adopt when dealing with the Mayor and other important figures - authoritative, even slightly seductive. It was the only way she wouldn’t crack under her nerves.

“Hello, darling,” Larissa husked as she opened the door and stepped aside to allow you to enter.

“Hey!” You’d changed out of your clothes from earlier into a low-cut blouse and a short skirt. A pair of simple black heels added two inches to your height, a fact that Larissa couldn’t help but find incredibly alluring. In your hand you held a bottle of Chianti, which you offered to Larissa. “Didn’t wanna come empty-handed,” you added with a nervous giggle.

“Oh…” Larissa’s heart fluttered at the kind gesture. “You didn’t have to.” She accepted the bottle with a grateful smile, hoping her blush wasn’t too obvious.

“I know, I wanted to.” You grinned at her, finally stepping into the office and closing the door behind you. Larissa reached past you to click the lock - and immediately paled as you smirked at her.

“My, my, Principal Weems, trying to trap me here and get me drunk?” you teased. Larissa’s panic must have been evident on her face because you burst into laughter and placed a reassuring hand on her arm - her skin burned at the contact as if it had been branded.

“I-I just don’t want students bursting into my office after hours, I…” Larissa trailed off lamely, unable to focus when your hand was still on her arm. It was so warm, so soft… she found herself imagining that hand on other parts of her body, trailing along her skin…

“Relax, Larissa, it’s okay,” you said, your face softening. “Either way it’s fine by me.”

Either way? Larissa nodded, swallowing thickly and trying to regain her composure. You’d always been very friendly, borderline flirty even, but something about being alone with Larissa outside of school hours seemed to relax you even further.

Larissa took a deep breath. A bit of teasing she could do - she was no stranger to a healthy bit of flirting to get what she wanted. Granted, her heartbeat was a bit more erratic this time, as she was actually attracted to the person across from her. Regardless - a bit of flirting couldn’t hurt. It didn’t have to be more than that.

“Would you like to take this to my quarters?” Larissa purred, plastering a seductive smile on her face and nodding in the direction of a door at the back of her office.

“I would love that.”

Minutes later, you were settled on the couch in Larissa’s living room and she was pouring two generous glasses of wine. She kicked off her heels and made herself comfortable beside you - you followed suit, taking the liberty to scoot just a bit closer. Larissa noticed, quirking an eyebrow - you laughed in response.

“Sorry, too forward?” You were still smiling as you made to shimmy back a bit - Larissa found herself placing a hand on your thigh, stilling your movements.

“You may stay,” she replied airily, grateful you couldn’t pick up on the way her heart was thundering loudly against her ribcage, seconds away from bursting. You placed your hand atop Larissa’s and she took a sip of her wine to mask the blush that was spreading across her face. Out of the corner of her eye, Larissa could see you mirror her movements, bringing your glass up to your mouth and taking a sip, watching her intently over the rim of the glass.

“Didn’t your parents tell you that it’s rude to stare?” Larissa murmured playfully, watching your cheeks go pink.

“No. They didn’t, actually,” you teased, before turning slightly more serious. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… you’re really beautiful. Just want you to know that.”

Larissa felt butterflies erupt in her stomach and she turned to face you fully - you looked so cute, staring into your wine glass, cheeks pink… It had been so long since Larissa had been called beautiful - she was so careful not to put herself into situations where rejection could be the possible outcome. “Thank you.” You looked up and Larissa smiled.

“Larissa?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t know why you invited me here tonight. I was hoping… Well, I have to confess something, I want to be open with you.”

Larissa could feel her heartbeat in her throat, and she nodded slowly, suddenly becoming aware that her hand was still on your thigh.

“I’m interested in you, Larissa. Now maybe I’m interpreting this all wrong, and if so I’m very sorry - I promise I won’t let it affect our professional relationship. But maybe the feeling is mutual…?”

She could hardly believe her ears. Of course the feeling was mutual. Larissa felt warm and tingly all over, her heart pounding and her head reeling. All she’d ever wanted was suddenly in her grasp - it was now or never…

Larissa’s eyes flicked down to your lips. Something in her expression must have given her away, for you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers - Larissa was helpless to stop you. It was just as she imagined - better, even. Your lips were soft and warm against hers, gentle - a stark contrast to the boy she’d made out with in college.

You quickly deepened the kiss, licking at Larissa’s lips which she parted almost out of instinct, allowing you to explore her mouth. You tasted of red wine and the lipstick you were wearing - Larissa couldn’t help but let out a soft noise of pleasure as heat pooled in her core. She felt you take her wine glass out of her hand and briefly pull back to set the two glasses on the coffee table - then your lips descended upon hers once more, the kiss quickly gaining intensity.

A wanton groan escaped your throat as you pushed yourself into Larissa - it was a beautiful sound, and Larissa could feel her underwear growing damp. She squeezed her thighs together for some much-needed relief, an action which you immediately noticed.

“Where’s your bedroom?” you rasped against Larissa’s lips. Her heartbeat stuttered in her chest - this was moving so fast. She wanted to protest but with the way you were looking at her, eyes half-lidded, pupils wide, cheeks flushed - she found she couldn’t summon up the courage to deny you, despite how her stomach began to burn with anxiety.

Instead, she stood and led you to her bedroom, allowing you to guide her backwards onto the mattress. She felt your fingers toy with the zipper of her dress and push it down to pool at her hips - then, suddenly, your lips were everywhere at once. You planted urgent, demanding kisses down her chest, her stomach - your hands caressed the bare skin of her waist.

These were the touches Larissa had yearned for for so long - your soft fingertips leaving marks on her waist as your warm breath caressed her skin, your lips and tongue and teeth peppering her body with kisses as evidence of your desire. But she wasn’t enjoying them. It was too much, too fast - she was overwhelmed with sensations. The throb between her legs no longer felt pleasant - it felt daunting, dirty even. What would happen when you’d fuck her and notice how skittish she was? What would happen when you’d expect to be pleasured in return and she would, inevitably, fail miserably?

As your lips moved up her body again, Larissa knew she needed to slow this down and confess, before her inexperience became evident and disappointed you. She took a deep breath.

“I don’t have much experience,” Larissa confessed quietly - the words sounded foreign to her ears. She could feel her nerves rising further as she wondered if you would hate her for it, leave immediately and never touch her again - she waited with baited breath to see what you would say.

“A woman like you? I find that hard to believe,” you murmured playfully, your voice low and sultry as you began to trail kisses all along Larissa’s jaw, as your fingers dug into her hips.

You weren’t getting it. Larissa felt, for the umpteenth time in her life, shame well up inside her, warming up her skin and pricking at her eyes. She felt her throat begin to close as panic overtook her body, and she tried to no avail to calm her racing heart with deep breaths as her eyes glazed over with tears.

“Larissa? Larissa?” Everything sounded like she was under water, your voice was so far away. Eventually, she recognized her name and turned to meet your gaze. You were no longer kissing her - you looked down at her in concern, brow furrowed, frowning as your lips sounded out her name.

Larissa took a deep breath to steady herself. She felt foolish for getting so worked up - surely you would think she was some sort of freak. 49 years old and unable to even so much as make out with a woman without having a panic attack.

“Larissa?”

“Yes?” She tried to sound normal, nonchalant, but her voice betrayed her as it gave out, even on that one syllable.

“Where’d you go? What’s going on up there?”

Your fingers caressed her cheek in a soothing gesture and she allowed her eyelids to flutter shut, leaning into the warmth of your touch. She found herself craving it so, so badly, but she couldn’t allow herself to enjoy it - not when it would surely be the last shred of affection she’d ever receive from you. She stared at the ceiling, a hollow feeling settling in her chest.

“We don’t have to do this, we don’t have to do anything. You know that right?” You shifted off of her, lying on your side to face her and propping yourself up on your elbow. When Larissa failed to meet your gaze, she felt your fingers grip her chin, urging her to face you. “We could just watch a movie or something?”

I don’t want to watch a movie. I want to fuck you. I want to be fucked. I want my body to let me have this.

Larissa nodded numbly.

You sat up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Larissa moved as if on autopilot, pulling her dress back up and sliding off the bed, guiding you wordlessly back into her small living room. She gestured to the couch and you took a seat.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked, clearing her throat.

“Just water, thanks.” You offered her a grateful smile, and Larissa winced - she was going to need something stronger than water to get through the evening now, but she didn’t want you to think she was an alcoholic either, so she nodded and padded to the kitchen to grab two glasses of water.

When she returned you were focused on the television, flicking through Netflix. You paused to take one of the glasses out of her hand, careful not to allow your fingers to brush against hers as you did so - Larissa swallowed nervously and averted her eyes, taking a seat next to you - close enough to feel your body heat, but not touching you.

“I feel like Netflix took all the good movies off,” you whined with a slight pout - if Larissa hadn’t been so in her own head, she might have chuckled, finding you quite endearing. “Is there anything you want to watch?”

Larissa felt herself shrug. Her mind was elsewhere, replaying your interactions leading up to now, internally berating herself for letting on that she wasn’t okay. If she’d only been able to play along better… it was something even teenagers did, for fuck’s sake - it shouldn’t be a big deal. If she could just get it over with, then maybe -

“Are you more of a romcom or action kinda gal? Ooh. Maybe you wanna watch a horror movie or something? What about-”

“I’m a virgin.”

“Sorry, what was that?”

You hadn’t heard her. Larissa once again felt the sting of oncoming tears. “I’m a virgin,” she repeated, a bit louder, unable to stop her voice from rising in pitch, eyes trained on the floor in front of her.

The silence that enveloped the two of you was deafening.

A warm hand was placed on her thigh - she whipped her head around to face you, confusion and insecurity marring her features.

Your own eyes shone with care - Larissa felt her heart pound wildly against her ribcage.

“Thank you for telling me,” you said softly. “I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you earlier - I shouldn’t have moved so fast.” You looked almost ashamed, which confused Larissa further… What were you apologizing for? Clearly she was the one with the issues. She shook her head lightly, a bit dazed.

“No, I’m sorry…” Larissa hesitated, swallowing against the lump in her throat and fighting back tears. “I’ll walk you to the door, we can forget this ever happened.” As she stood, she felt your fingers gently encircle her wrist.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Larissa. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of.”

Larissa scoffed, but she made no move to extricate herself from your grip. Not when your warm fingertips were the only thing that could bring her comfort.

“I’ll leave if you want me to… but I’d rather stay and make sure you’re alright - if that’s okay?”

A part of Larissa was screaming, begging, pleading with her to kick you out so she could do what she always did - drown herself in her own self-pity (and maybe half a bottle of wine) and cry. But when she glanced down at you and saw the worry in your eyes, the adorable little crease between your brows that deepened at whatever you saw in Larissa’s own eyes, she nodded and sat back down.

“Is it… would you rather I not touch you right now?” you asked as you dropped Larissa’s wrist. There was a healthy distance between the two of you on the couch - it couldn’t have been more than a foot or two, but it felt like miles to Larissa, who felt the crushing weight of loneliness descending upon her again as you retracted your fingers.

“You can touch me,” she whispered, ashamed at how desperate she sounded. She felt the couch cushions shift next to her, and soon your warm thigh was pressed against hers - then your hand found her own, intertwining your fingers together. Your skin was so soft, your hand fit so perfectly within Larissa’s that it made her breath hitch in her chest, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of your small, feminine hand clasping her own. She wished her hands weren’t as clammy as they were, but you didn’t seem to mind.

“I hope I didn’t scare you away,” you said timidly. “I really like you and I… I didn’t mean to push you into anything. Fuck, I didn’t know, I’m sorry. I thought…” You trailed off, watching Larissa apprehensively.

“You really like me?” Larissa’s ears had perked up as you’d said it, she figured she must’ve misheard you. You smiled shyly then, and Larissa felt butterflies in her stomach. “Even… even now?”

You let out a low chuckle, giving Larissa’s hand a squeeze. “Even now? Is you being a virgin supposed to change my mind?”

“I’m 49…” Larissa whispered in anguish, her heart constricting in her chest as she realized she was admitting things to you now that she’d never told anyone.

“And? I mean I guess I’m curious why - it can’t be your looks or your personality, because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, and you’re so easy to talk to… But it doesn’t bother me or anything.”

Larissa sighed, dropping her gaze to your intertwined hands. When she spoke, it was barely audible. “I was never attracted to men, so I didn’t want them to touch me. I didn’t realize I could be attracted to women until college and by the time I’d come to terms with that… let’s just say I’m certain no one would want to deflower someone in their 40s.”

“I would,” you said with a shrug, so nonchalantly that Larissa whipped her head around to face you. You chuckled at her bewildered expression. “Come on, Larissa. I don’t care about that. I like you as a person and I find you attractive. I want to have sex with you, if you also want to have sex with me. I don’t care how many other people you’ve been with - I really don’t care if the answer to that is zero.”

Larissa took a moment to mull over your words. They sounded almost too good to be true - she never thought she’d find someone who would be so calm, so gentle, so unfazed about the whole thing. And, well, that it just so happened to be the woman she had a crush on… she could feel herself nodding at your words.

“But we don’t have to have sex if you don’t want to. Obviously.”

“I want to,” Larissa said firmly, if a little too quickly - it made you smirk, and her cheeks turned scarlet.

“We’ll go at your pace then.” You brought Larissa’s hand up to your lips and pressed a tender kiss to her knuckles. The soft brush of your lips made a rush of heat pool in Larissa’s abdomen. “Only what you’re comfortable with. And if you want to stop, we stop. I want you to have fun, Larissa. I want this to be good for you.”

“Thank you,” Larissa whispered. The smile she received in return was blinding, and her heart felt just a smidge lighter.

“Do you want me to leave for tonight?”

Larissa shook her head no. You snuggled into her side and picked up the abandoned remote again, flicking through a few more options before finally settling on Carol - Larissa felt herself slowly begin to relax as the film started.

A few minutes into the movie, Larissa felt your fingers begin to trace absent-minded patterns on her knee. She shivered at the touch - she could feel herself start to get worked up. She wondered if there was any way to salvage the evening - her attraction to you had only grown through your show of empathy, and maybe now that you knew her secret, her body could feel safe enough to let go.

Larissa turned towards you - your head was resting against her shoulder, it would be so easy to just lean in and-

You turned your head and met her gaze. “Now look who’s staring,” you teased. Larissa’s eyes were glued to your lips as you spoke. You were such a good kisser, you tasted so good. She leaned forward, focused on her goal - your lips curled into a smile as you leaned in as well. Larissa’s eyes fluttered shut the moment your lips met and she let out a breathy moan. You didn’t deepen the kiss - you simply pressed your lips to hers, humming and gently cupping her face in your hands.

Larissa felt emboldened by your gentleness - she parted her lips slightly to lick at yours. You opened your mouth for her, allowing her to explore your mouth before gently flicking your tongue against hers. She felt a mad fluttering in her abdomen at the deepening of the kiss, a little whimper escaping her throat at all of the sensations once again flooding her body.

Pulling back once she’d run out of air, Larissa rested her forehead against yours. Your hot, heavy breaths mingled with her own, her skin tingled with electricity.

“I want to try this again,” she whispered resolutely.

“Really?” You pulled back, your eyes flicking between hers. Your expression was a mixture of concern and excitement, and Larissa nodded.

You stood, extending a hand for Larissa to take and helping her up.

This time you climbed onto the bed first, settling against the pillows and waiting for Larissa. She followed suit, lying down next to you and pressing a hesitant kiss to your lips. She could feel the affection and tenderness with which you kissed her back and quickly relaxed, allowing her hands to rest on your waist and tugging you closer. You wound your arms around her and held her tightly - she felt safe in the minutes that you spent making out, heat slowly building within her.

Larissa froze as your fingers played with the zipper of her dress, her breath quickening. Noticing the change, you removed your hand and sat back on the balls of your feet.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked - there was no judgment detectable in your voice, only sweetness and worry. “Yes, I am, I’m sorry.” Larissa took a deep breath, trying to relax again.

“What if I got undressed first?”

She considered for a moment - yes, perhaps that would make her feel less vulnerable. She nodded and you began to unbutton your blouse.

“May I?” she asked. You smiled and dropped your hands, shimmying a bit closer. She unbuttoned the blouse the rest of the way, pupils dilating as it fell away from your front to reveal your lace-clad breasts. You slid the blouse from your arms and reached behind yourself, unclasping your bra and tossing it aside - your breasts jiggled slightly as you did so, and Larissa felt her mouth go dry.

Shimmying your hips, you slid your skirt down your legs and tossed it aside, before doing the same with your underwear. There you sat, completely naked, thighs parted slightly to reveal the wetness that glistened between your legs. Larissa’s own pussy throbbed with desire at the sight - she felt an overwhelming sense of euphoria at the fact that you were so aroused, in spite of everything that had transpired that evening.

“All for you,” you purred seductively, smirking as you noticed Larissa’s eyes glued to your cunt. Larissa snapped her gaze up to meet yours and you leaned forward again, pressing a soft kiss to her lips as your fingers once again found her zipper and began to drag it down. She moved her body accordingly so you could slide the dress down her body - nodding as you cocked your head in question when the dress pooled at her hips. You slipped her out of the dress completely, then crawled up her body and settled next to her, toying with the clasp of her bra.

“You can take it off,” she whispered, almost amused at how fast you complied.

The hunger with which your eyes roved over her torso, drinking in the milky expanse of her soft stomach, the swell of her breasts, her pink nipples that slowly hardened at the chill in the air - it felt like a drug to Larissa. She’d never had anyone look at her like that - no one had ever seen her naked in such a context, and she felt her chest flush.

Part of her wanted to cross her arms over her chest, her anxiety rising at the unabashed attention - but then you lowered your mouth to her right nipple and gently soothed your tongue over the bud, and her brain short-circuited.

Arching her back off the bed, Larissa let out a strangled, breathy sound - your tongue on her nipple felt like velvet, divine and soothing, and it sent tingles down her spine. Then she felt you roll her other nipple between your fingers and groaned - it was a filthy sound, and her hand shot up immediately to cover her mouth.

Your tongue stilled and you looked up at her with a smile. “No, I want to hear you. That was a very pretty sound you made.” Larissa blushed, removing her hand from her mouth. Your tongue resumed its ministrations, slowly causing the small, pink bud to harden, and Larissa whimpered at the shocks of pleasure that originated behind her navel and rippled outwards in waves.

“Does it feel good when I do that?” you murmured, moving your mouth from one breast to the other, and Larissa nodded fervently.

“Please, keep going,” she breathed, a tightness coiling in her abdomen as your hand joined your tongue to knead at the soft flesh of her breast.

Once you’d showered each of her breasts in ample attention, your lips began trailing down her stomach - much gentler this time, much slower. Larissa almost felt embarrassed at how her body was reacting, how excited she seemed to be getting, as your lips left a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“Can I take these off?” You toyed with the waistband of Larissa’s underwear - she paused for a moment, before finally nodding again.

Your fingers brushed against her skin as you tugged her underwear down her legs, then settled between them. With you suddenly this close to her pussy, Larissa began to worry whether she should have shaved. She felt her nerves rising again as she waited for you to tell her how disgusting you found her - then she felt your lips begin to press reverent kisses to the little curls, as if you could sense her anxiety and were trying to reassure her that it was okay.

“Is it okay if I use my mouth?” you asked sweetly. Her eyes widened and her face suddenly felt hot - you were being so considerate, asking all these questions, making sure she was okay with everything, and Larissa wished you didn’t have to do that - she wished she could just be okay with whatever you wanted to do to her.

“I’m sorry, this must be terribly tedious,” she mumbled, her voice dripping with insecurity that, in any other context, she simply did not possess - she hated herself for it right now, and she was unable to meet your gaze because of it. A light slap to her thigh shocked her into looking at you, however. You frowned up at her from between her legs. “Hey. Don’t say that. Making love to you isn’t a chore, Larissa. I want this. So bad. And I want you to enjoy yourself as much as I am. Understood?”

“Yes,” she replied, breathless at your display of dominance.

“Good girl.” Larissa let out an involuntary moan - she had never considered that she would enjoy being called a ‘good girl’, but she couldn’t help the way her cunt throbbed at your words. “So. Is it okay if I use my mouth? Or do you want to stop?”

“N-no, I don’t want to stop… you can use your mouth.”

You beamed up at her, before carefully hooking one of her legs over your shoulder - Larissa could feel herself being spread open at the action.

Soft lips began littering her inner thighs with gentle kisses. Larissa tried her best to stay still, not to squirm - but when your mouth finally met her cunt, your tongue slowly trailing up her slit, she couldn’t help but buck her hips into your face.

A soft groan left her lips when she felt your tongue flick against her clit - she was so sensitive, and the touch was so different than when she pleasured herself - it made every hair on her body stand on end. Your lips closed around the sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking gently and drawing little whimpers from Larissa’s throat as her back arched. She felt herself quickly getting lost in the sensation.

“Does this feel good?” you murmured, pulling back for a moment.

“Y-yes,” Larissa panted - her breathing was already beginning to get heavier.

“If anything doesn’t feel good, if you don’t like it, tell me, okay?”

Larissa hummed and you began licking at her folds, gathering her juices on your tongue and letting out a loud moan of delight. “Fuck, you taste amazing.” Larissa couldn’t help but blush again, but her embarrassment was forgotten the second your tongue circled her clit. She shut her eyes and tried to focus on relaxing.

She found herself unsure what to do with her hands - she briefly brought them to your head, then fisted at the sheets next to her. Then she felt something brush against them and opened her eyes to see your own hands blindly reaching out and grabbing for hers. She intertwined your fingers, her heart leaping in her chest as you gave her hands a squeeze.

The coil in Larissa’s stomach was tightening by the second. She felt herself growing more comfortable with every passing minute, allowing unfiltered moans to pass her lips, spurred on by the noises you were making - the breathy groans, the wet sound of your tongue lapping at her folds. When you gently circled her entrance, she couldn’t help but whine and buck her hips.

“C-can you go inside?” she asked quietly, rolling her hips against your face. You groaned in response, slowly pushing your tongue into her hole. Larissa’s walls fluttered against your tongue and she let out a guttural moan.

“Good girl,” you purred between thrusts of your tongue. “You’re doing so well for me, love.”

Larissa could feel herself getting closer, her thighs trembling - she tried to keep her legs open but the next thrust of your tongue caused her to snap them shut around your head.

Slowly she began to unravel, her release cresting like a wave as you alternated between teasing her hole and sucking her clit. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she lost herself completely in the feeling of ecstasy overwhelming her body.

She felt your tongue soothe over her folds, then her thighs, lapping up the evidence of her orgasm. You gave her hands a gentle squeeze, before gently extracting your fingers from her grip and crawling up her body. Larissa’s eyes were still closed when she felt your lips on her own. At your tongue’s insistence she parted her lips, whining at the taste of herself as you licked into her mouth.

When you pulled back and cupped her cheek, Larissa opened her eyes. She was almost shocked at the sheer amount of affection and adoration that swirled in your pupils as you searched her face - it made her heart flutter in her chest.

“How was it?”

Larissa hesitated - what was she supposed to say to that? It was everything I’ve ever wanted and more, because it was with you… She buried her face in the crook of your neck and sighed, inhaling the scent of sweat and your sweet perfume on your skin.

“Really good, darling,” is what she settled for as she contentedly nuzzled her nose into your pulse point. She felt your arms wind around her and allowed herself to be held as her breathing slowed. A chaste kiss was pressed to the crown of her head and she smiled against your skin.

You shifted next to her, wrapping your legs around hers, and Larissa could feel your slick rub against her thigh. Tentatively, Larissa allowed her hand to trail down your bare waist, over the swell of your hip. She could feel you shiver against her as her fingertips brushed against your mound.

Larissa reached between your thighs and pulled back to get a look at your face - you watched her intently, pupils blown, lips parted to let out shaky breaths. Slowly, Larissa spread your folds with her fingers, gasping as she felt how wet you were. She gathered some of your juices on her fingertips and massaged them over your swollen clit, enraptured by the soft moan you let out, the way your eyes fluttered shut and your hips twitched seemingly of their own accord.

With your eyes closed, Larissa allowed herself to admire your beauty, the way you gave in to her touches. She touched you the way she normally touched herself, and it seemed to please you - your face was gorgeously flushed, the most obscene noises slipping from between your swollen lips. When you arched your back, Larissa’s eyes fell to your nipples, hardened with arousal. She lowered her mouth to your breast, flattening her tongue and soothing it over the pink bud, drawing a moan from your chest.

“Bite,” you murmured. Larissa paused, glancing up at your face - then felt your hands on the back of her head, pushing her into your chest. She licked your nipple once more, before grazing her teeth against it and gently biting.

“Fuck, just like that,” you mewled, and Larissa bit down again, the heat within her own body building at the string of obscenities dripping from your lips.

You rolled your hips against her hand as she continued to stroke your clit. She felt your fingers encircle her wrist, guiding her to your dripping hole. “Two fingers,” you instructed breathily.

Larissa complied, first pushing in one, then two fingers, inadvertently biting down on your nipple again as she felt your walls draw her fingers in. She curled her fingers, experimenting with the pace of her thrusts until she heard your breathing stutter.

“Shit, you’re so good at this,” you praised, your thighs beginning to shake and the rolling of your hips becoming more and more erratic. Your face contorted with pleasure as you rode Larissa’s fingers - she felt your cum drip down her hand as you tensed around her, then you sighed and relaxed into the mattress.

Larissa sat up, pulling her fingers out of your cunt - the needy mewl that left your lips caused a shiver to run down her spine. Your eyes met hers, full of affection and desire, and she felt emboldened - she brought her fingers up to her mouth and licked them clean, moaning at the taste. It was intoxicating - she knew she could get addicted to that taste.

“C’mere,” you murmured, holding your arms open for Larissa. She settled into them, slinging an arm around your bare waist and tugging you closer. You pressed a kiss to her lips. “That-” kiss “felt-” kiss “incredible” kiss.

Larissa felt herself blushing at your compliment - she couldn’t have asked for a better experience for her first time. It might have come some twenty years later than she’d hoped for, but if it meant she could be here with you right now, your fingertips tracing soothing patterns on her back, your breath tickling her cheek - she’d wait those twenty years all over again.

“I’m glad it was you, you know,” she whispered.

“I’m glad, too,” you whispered back, a gentle smile tugging at your lips.

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