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brooklinn13 · 2 years

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“Drop the attitude.”

Michael Langdon x reader

summary: you were lonely and wanted attention, so he decided to give you some.

a/n: this is my first fic i’m posting on here! also, this takes place at outpost three! enjoy:)

- maddy

warnings: smut, spanking w/objects, language, slapping, fingering, crying, orgasm denial, bratty reader. pretty much just pure filth lmao.

You knew that he loved you. Never doubted it. Sure, you were human. You had insecurities, but for the most part, there wasn’t ever a time where you hadn’t felt loved by him. He made this a priority, one that he considered a moral code, almost. It had been like that since the beginning. What had once been an innocent friendship, quickly blossomed into something much more intense. You were his best friend, his lover. That one person he could lean on, count on for anything he would ever need, and it went both ways. You stood by his side through all stages of his life. His very short lived childhood, Hawthorne, the cooperative. You followed him through it all.

He was loyal to you, grateful, and he made sure that you knew that. He made his love known, sometimes to the point where it was overwhelming. However, all relationships, in one way or another, have their ups and downs. You two definitely did, and when you fought, all hell fire broke loose across the face of the Earth. It never lasted for long, because you just couldn’t stay mad at him. There were times in your life where you had found it difficult being with him, mostly because how quickly his behavior had changed. He’d grown colder. Not to you, but his personality. You adapted to it though, all because you loved him, and there was no you without him.

You respected him and he knew that. You answered to him. Damn near let him control your every move. That’s one of the things he loved most about you, was just how devoted you were to him. He wouldn’t have been with you otherwise. However, you were not his prisoner, nor did he simply think of you as a toy for his own amusement, but they were roles that both of you had slipped into over the years. It was just how it came to be. If you were out of line, he’d tell you, and if need be, he’d punish you for it. You were your own person, you had your own freedom. He knew this and respected it, only because he cared about you so. Still, despite that love, Michael was still Michael.

You answered to him and only him. He made sure you knew that. You spoke to him only with respect. God forbid you ever mouth off to him. In truth, there were times were he could scare you. He was the antichrist, after all. Being with Michael could be complicated, but you loved it. You loved every second of it, of his presence, the good and the bad. You just loved him, so whatever you saw from him didn’t matter.

But, lately it hadn’t been that way. Here you were, in the library of outpost three with your nose buried in a book. You weren’t even sure of the words you were reading, and tried keeping your mind occupied on other things. You tried not to let it bother you, the fact that Michael was so busy, because he really was. You could feel the stress and tension from his body when he slept beside you, so you really tried to not let his absence hurt your feelings. But, it had been almost two weeks since you two had a deep conversation, or a night of mind blowing sex.

Of course, he pleased you every time, but it seemed like he had other things on his mind. Interviews, the end of the world, etc. You knew this was his internal makeup, but damn it you missed him. It made you feel guilty, because he was still right along side you, but he was just so busy with work. You missed having his attention, missed when he maneuvered his hands across your body like art. And you knew this was a phase, because he sometimes had been this way before when he ran the cooperative, it just seemed to affect you more this time. Perhaps the world being blown to pieces had something to do with that.

Perhaps “blown off” was a bit dramatic, but that’s what it seemed like he had been doing with you, so there was a part of you that was almost pissed off at him. That never tended to go over well. But, you were desperate for his attention, for something, so you intended on getting it. Maybe this made you irrational, but you loved when he treated you that way. You could hear the trample of heels and shoes as the members of the outpost made their way to dinner. Michael started attending those, just solely so he could keep his eye on Venable.

Most of your conversations included him bitching about her and the power that she thought she held over him, and at first, it was funny. You were tired of it now. You made your way into the dining hall, giving everyone a small nod as you scanned your eyes for him.

“Hello, darling.” You jumped at the lips against your ear, but relaxed at the warm hand he placed against your back. You smiled, cocking your head to the side. “Hey.”

He began leading the two of you to your seats, always being seated at the head of the table. “I don’t think Ms. Venable will be in a good mood today.” You could hear the smile in his words. “I’m excited to say we may get a theatrical show with our meal.”

There he went again, babbling off about Venable. This was how it went every single day, every single interaction with him. You offered no more than a simple, dry hum in response, clenching your hand when he didn’t even notice your lack of enthusiasm.

“Good evening, Mr. Langdon.” Your eyes darted to Coco, immediately rolling your eyes at her flirtatious behavior toward your husband.

He offered back pleasantries, and you tried your best to drown them out. He helped you down into your seat, taking his own beside you. He patted your hand before letting go, and you but your cheek as your angry kept boiling. You felt like a forgotten child, at least being treated like one. Everyone there treated Michael like royalty. You? Different story. Of course, he made sure that you were treated with respect and nothing short of, but you imagined it was your own fault for the treatment you got. You hardly spoke to anyone there, simply following his side like an obedient puppy.

Michael didn’t like you mixing with work. He’d always kept you in the loop, and he always told you everything, but he didn’t like you to get your hands dirty. It was his business and he’d take care of it, so you found it best to remain quiet. Today you wouldn’t be. Everyone’s eyes darted to the sound of the tall gingers cane against the floor, and Michael stood to greet her. “Good evening, Ms. Venable. I trust your well this evening?”

You grew more agitated by the second, at him. You crossed your arms in a pout, one leg over the other as your lips turned into a scowl. “Very well, Mr. Langdon.” Venable did not offer a smile, and sat herself down in her seat. “May I ask how your interviews are going? You’ve been here for almost three weeks.”

Three very boring weeks, indeed. You turned to look at his face, because you were curious to her question, too.

“Very well, thank you.” He nodded. “I’m taking my time. I think being thorough with my selections is just as important as selecting them.”

You rolled your eyes at that. “Sweet ass time.” You muttered under your breath. He didn’t hear you. Of course, he didn’t.

You wanted his attention, but wasn’t sure how to get it. He was so dead set on his priorities, and it made you feel like you were no longer one. You knew it was stupid, but you had needs. Maybe you were overreacting. Maybe you just needed to try harder to get his attention, after all, we was extremely busy. You understood this. Tucking a hair behind your ear, you sat up from your slouched position.

“Michael?” You lightly smiled, a whisper coming out between your lips as you leaned in.

“Forgive me for being rude,” Venable continued. “I just find it..odd how long you’ve stayed with us. I do admit I like to keep things organized around here, so having you two has posed somewhat of a challenge to me, indeed.”

He smiled. Good, he liked that. You licked your lips as you moved closer. Perhaps he hadn’t heard you. “Michael?”

“In a minute, love.” Your movements paused at his soft dismissal, simply waving his fingers in your direction. You recoiled instantly, slouching back in your chair and scooting away from him.

If this had only been a one night occurrence, you wouldn’t of cared. But this was almost daily now, his behavior. You were damn sick and tired of it. “Yes, I can see that.” He smiled. “My apologies. I’m sure you can understand. The sanctuary runs like a tight ship, most like how you’ve decided to run things here.”

You bounced your foot off the floor in angry anxiety, trying to decide what you should do. You hadn’t planned on making him angry, but you were desperate. Before that, though, you had something else up your sleeve. Without a beat, you reached under the table and placed the palm of your hand right below his belt, turning to glare at the side of his face. He was good at pretending, but you could see the slight twitch of his ringed finger from your actions.

“When’s my interview, Mr. Langdon?” Coco batted her eyes. “You haven’t forgotten about me have you?”

Your husband turned toward the woman, and you started lightly palming him through his dark dress pants. “Of course, not.” He shook his head. “I say that your interview will come as quickly as tomorrow.”

Only then, did he look at you, a look in his eye that you knew quite well.

“I hope your selections come soon, Mr. Langdon. We don’t exactly have the food to spare.” You could hear Venable groan under her breath, but you were too busy having a staring contest with Michael.

Though, it only lasted a couple seconds. He grabbed your hand, squeezing it and placing it firmly in your lap. He squinted his eyes ever so briefly, and you couldn’t help but huff at his basic way of saying- knock it off.

You should have known flirting wouldn’t work with him. Hell, you had been all week. You looked visibly angry, and you nearly broke the glass that you held in your hand. You sunk back into your seat, arms crossed in a scowl. Fine then, you thought. If he wasn’t going to pay attention to you, you wouldn’t belittle yourself any longer clinging to his side.

A few more minutes passed. Michael and Venable remained at their bitching, while few members chimed in about the sanctuary. They all had questions, and he loved the attention, so he gladly answered. He completely ignored you and your sulking, and if you hadn’t been so angry, you’d probably cry about it. But, you could only contain your mood for so long, and before you knew it, you snapped.

“God, will you shut up!” You snapped, glaring at Coco who’s moth hung open in surprise. “Do you ever stop fucking talking?”

You had everyone’s attention then, even Michael’s, but you didn’t care now.

“What the hell is your problem, y/n?” The blonde snapped back.

“You!” You snipped. “You’re my fucking problem. You, and everyone else here.” You sent a glare to everyone, including Michael by your side.

You slouched in your seat like an angry child, while he had not changed his posture. He simply looked at you, his eyes so slightly narrowed it was hard to pick up. He was observing you, your body language, trying to decipher whether or not you were truly upset. It was rare for you to snap like this, to cause a scene. He didn’t like it, so you knew better. He didn’t like messes and he didn’t like drama.

If you were really upset, however, it was different. He’d drop whatever it was to be by your side, to offer his assistance in any way he could. But, this wasn’t the case, that’s why he hadn’t moved a muscle. You were causing a scene for the hell of it.

A loud gasp left the blondes lips, and she rose in her seat like a tiger ready to pounce. “Why you little-”

“Oh, shut up, bitch.” You snapped. “You’re just pissed you can’t fuck my husband!”

And when you brought your beloved husband into it, only then did he intervene. “Y/n.” He said sternly, cocking his head as he tried to get you to look at him. You snapped your eyes to eyes, glaring sharply as a huff of breath left you.

“Oh, now you want to talk to me, right?” You nearly shouted at him, and if you hadn’t of been so angry, you would of noticed the slight widening of his eyes.

Behavior like this was unexpected from you, because he always nipped it in the bud quickly. Today, however, it was clear to him you were in a particularly bad mood.

The room then broke off into a mixture of shouts and loud, booming voices. You and Coco were practically screaming across the table, while Gallant and Evie cheered from the benches. Venable tried to simmer the fight, but all you saw was read. You weren’t even truly mad at Coco, only Michael, but he was obviously not going to pay any attention to you. Though, you’re anger had finally boiled over, and everyone abruptly went silent when you had delivered a sharp smack across Coco’s cheek.

Michael was angry, no question, but he wasn’t going to cater to you now, not after that. He stared at you with a sharp, defeating glare that could shatter glass. Truthfully, he couldn’t believe you had done that, because it simply wasn’t you. No, this was extremely disappointing for him. You had disappointed him. Still, he did not stand from his seat, only looking at you with a stare you know well.

Coco held her cheek as she looked at you, tears in her eyes and mouth hung open. They looked at you in shock, because violence was strictly prohibited from the outpost. That was a rule designed by Michael, himself. And you knew that, but broke it anyway. You pushed your sweet back loudly, picking up your skirts as you finally turned to your husband. You only glared at him, and his eyes followed you until you were out of his line of sight.

It was clear you were jealous. It was clear you wanted attention. So, after he was done cleaning up the mess you had made, he would be sure to give you some.

•

The warm, orange tones of the outpost complimented the pale complexion of your skin as you sat there, knees pulled to your chest and wavy hair set free. You wore a simple, black nightgown made of soft silk, and it was almost funny, considering you were wearing your panties that matched the slip. You hardly ever wore panties anymore, merely so because Michael’s favorite past time was fingering you in the utmost shocking of places. At least, he was in the past. Now, you were lucky to even have a conversation, it seemed.

You sat on the leather sofa in your shared room with him, the largest and grandest room of the entire outpost. You stared at the fire in front of you, and it danced around like the anger bubbling in your stomach. You really hadn’t a clue what you were in for, or how Michael was going to take your outburst. Your goal was to get a reaction from him, to make him see just how bored you were. You figured he wouldn’t even give you the time of day, his silent treatment had definitely served as punishment in the past.

You scoffed at the thought of it, angry at how abandoned you felt. And perhaps abandoned was a stretch, but you were lonely. It was nearly two hours before you heard his heavy footsteps outside your door, and you stiffened in annoyance, turning further into the arm of the couch. His stare was hot on you, so hot you could feel it like a sizzling iron at the back of your skull. You heard the door click shut, and his slow, antagonizing steps becoming louder until he finally entered your vision.

His arms were folded behind his back, walking slowly until he stood in front of the fireplace, directly where you were staring. You still did not look at him. The silence was almost deafening, and after a few moments of observing your slouched figure, he spoke.

“You’re clearly having a bad day.”

What a jerk.

It was hard not to look at him, but you kept your chin down. You didn’t want to talk to him, though you didn’t want to be left alone, either.

He blinked, waiting to for you to respond to him, but nothing came. Wow. You were having a horrid day, apparently. “Are you going to look at me or sit there sulking like a child for the rest of the evening?”

You took an annoyed huff of breath, craning your neck as you tightened your arms around yourself. “Yes?” You said sharply.

He started off almost amused at this, having calmed down from your violent theatrics, and walking in to see you pouting like a baby. And perhaps that alone would have lessened your awaiting punishment, but any trace of amusement was now gone after your response.

A bad attitude was not well taken with Michael.

That small, almost invisible smirk was now completely gone, and his grew darker at your snappy tone. “You’re behavior tonight is deranged, Yn. If you want to have a discussion about what’s got you in such a piss-poor mood, fine, but you’re going to need to get ahold of yourself.” He was trying to reason with you, he always did. It was the number one thing you knew about him, almost what everyone knew. Michael, at all costs, tried to avoid unnecessary drama.

This didn’t settle with you, though. Your eyes widened at his words. You were absolutely not deranged. “Excuse me?” You pounced up, nearly screeching at the top of your lungs. “You’re the most-”

“Drop the attitude.” He said sternly, the harshness in his voice silencing you immediately. “I don’t know what’s got you so bent out of shape,” He took a step forward, your angry eyes trying to stay on his. “But I suggest you fall in line before I put you back in your place. You don’t get to speak to me like you do them, you know better than that. If you want to continue this conversation then you need to straighten up, understood?” Oh, so very quickly, did chills go down your spine, because you finally realized just how hot the water you were wading in was.

Despite his exterior, you could tell that he was extremely irritated with you. His posture, his tone, the way he looked down on you. He was disappointed with how you acted, how you were still acting. He threatened to put you in your place, but truth was, his words alone already did so, and you flushed red with embarrassment.

You gave a sigh of defeat, falling back onto the couch with a glum frown. “You haven’t spent any time with me.” You muttered under your breath.

“Speak up.” He demanded.

You glanced up at him, eyes batting away quickly in shame. You gulped down your pride. “You haven’t…You haven’t spent any time with me.”

He had to take a moment to comprehend what you just said, and his eyes narrowed in confusion while you looked at the floor. You took his silence as to continue.

“All you talk about is Venable and the interviews you’re conducting. I get that it’s important, I do, but you’ve been ignoring me, Michael.” You nodded your head along to your words, speaking more firmly as you went on. “You haven’t asked how my day was or how I’m doing. You’re not beside me when I wake up. You’re just working, constantly. You don’t even have time for me anymore.” You pleaded your case, the words spilling more easily than you had imagined.

You looked down at his feet, not able to make eye contact from your embarrassment. It was quiet for a few moments, until he finally spoke.

“That’s ridiculous.”

You quickly glanced up, you’re eyes widening with shock. “What?”

His posture had only grown straighter, his eyes now sharp with annoyance at your confession.

“I said,” He licked his lips, glancing toward the room and back to you. “That’s ridiculous.”

You weren’t even sure how to feel at your lover’s response, and you tried to swallow down your hurt feelings. He’d never dismissed you like that before. “But I-”

He watched you try and come up with words, but it was hard with how small he looked at you.

“Do you remember what I told you last week?” His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and with a red face, you shook your head no.

In any other case, Michael would have consoled you with what you had said, but you were leaving out important parts of the puzzle, and it was his job to put them back together.

“You were sitting right where you are now, reading that poetry book your grandmother had gotten you for your sixteenth birthday. Remember?” You know from his tone and his stiff posture that he had a point with this, and you shook your head nervously.

“Yes.”

He continued. “I was sitting there,” He pointed to his desk. “Writing down observations from the interview I had with Evie Gallant. You want to tell the rest of the story?”

You didn’t know where he was going with this, and you didn’t even recall the tale he was telling. “I don’t- Michael, I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.” You defended, blowing a curl away from your face.

He hummed in amusement.

“I kept hearing this noise. I tried to block it out for a while, but soon I realized it was you shivering.”

Oh. You remembered now, and he smiled when he seen that you did. “I couldn’t let you freeze to death, now, could I? I came over and covered you up with my jacket, told you how pretty you looked with your hair braided like it was. You were so enhanced in that book of yours you barely noticed.”

You swallowed, because you finally realized where he was going with this.

“Every morning I help you with your corset,” He continued, his voice firmer and firmer with every word. “And every night, I help you remove it. Just a few days ago I paused my work to watch you try on every item in your closet. A fashion show, you had called it.”

If you looked up red in the dictionary, it would have shown a picture of your face.

“And last night I held you in your sleep while you cried through a nightmare. This morning I laced up your boots. I helped you pin your hair back. And every chance I get I whisper how much I love you in your ear, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that?” He lectured you like a child, and you sat there completely humiliated, feeling absolutely awful for your behavior, because every word he had spoken was nothing but true.

You weren’t even sure how to make this right. “Michael-”

“Just because I’m not holding your hand every minute of the day means I’m ignoring you.” He shut you up, taking a step forward. The irritation was making itself more known. “Just because you’re not the only one getting my attention anymore means I stopped loving you. You know how difficult it’s been for me having to live here with Venable and these insufferable excuses for human beings. I want better for you, you know that. This whole entire fucking thing has been for you, Y/n.”

You did know that. He hated it, and for awhile, you had to keep convincing him you didn’t despise him for making you live there. You almost wanted to cry for how bad you felt.

And soon enough, you were. A tear spilled down your face, and you squeezed the nightgown with your fist in anxiety. You felt awful, extremely awful. You looked up to him, and it was clear he held no remorse for your tears. “Michael, I’m-” Your mouth opened and closed, feeling to embarrassed to even mutter an apology.

You stood up, another tear falling as you wrapped your arms around his torso. “Michael, I’m so sorry. I don’t- I don’t even know what to say. I’m so sorry.” Your voice cracked, and you felt his hand at the small of your back.

“There’s no use crying about it, Y/n. I’m not angry at you for this.” His voice was less than welcoming, but his words made you confused.

“You’re not?” You pulled away to look at him.

“I’ll admit I’m not pleased,” He swiped a tear with his thumb. “But it would be silly to punish you for feeling human emotions. Jealousy is just one of them. I understand this change is difficult for you, but you have to realize all of this is part of the process. I haven’t forgotten you, love. I’m just busy.” He tucked a curl behind your ear, that disappointed tone still evident.

You blinked shamefully. “I know.” You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry, Michael. I was out of line. I’m sorry.” You kissed the side of his neck, burying your face in his shoulder.

He’d already forgiven you for it. Hell, he’d already forgiven you for anything you could ever possibly do. He loved you to much to do otherwise. “All’s forgiven, my darling.” He held you.

You felt yourself calm at his words, and you let out a sigh as you relaxed into him. However, that didn’t last long.

“But we still have to address your behavior at dinner tonight.”

You froze at that, opening your eyes and narrowing them into slits. You hoped your reasoning behind the act would excuse it, but who were you kidding. Michael didn’t let things go. “What do you mean?” You cringed.

“Don’t play dumb,” He squeezed you tighter, still holding you close. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. We have rules for a reason, Y/n.”

You shook your head, trying to pull away, but he firmly held you in place. “I know, but-”

“There’s no but’s about it.” He tsked, grabbing your arms and pulling you away. “You still broke rules tonight, darling. The motivation behind it isn’t of importance to me.”

You supposed that maybe you should be happy, finally seeming back in Michael’s spotlight, even though you did feel guilty for being called out, though all he was doing was reprimanding you for your actions. Still, there were certain roles you two took in times like these, and you were slowly sinking into them.

“You broke two, if you remember.” He held you lightly by the elbows, your torsos ghosting each other’s. “Care to revisit what they were?”

You didn’t have a choice not to, and knew that it would only make things were for yourself. You swallowed nervously, knowing he was working up some sort of punishment to discipline you. The thing with Michael, it was different every time, no punishment ever hardly being the same. He tweaked things, only because he didn’t want you to become used to it. He enjoyed the surprise of it, seeing you gawk in nerves and excitement.

You would let him do whatever he pleased, and he knew this. Whether or not his punishments were painful didn’t matter, you enjoyed it. At least, in some way or another. No matter how many tears you shed or whimpers that caused your voice to break, you never wanted him to stop until he was finished with you. Maybe it was sick, this relationship between the two of you. But it worked, and love was never perfect.

“I,” You tried to find your voice. “I hit Coco.”

He smirked at that. “Personally, I don’t mind your choice of selection, but that doesn’t disregard what you did.” He let you go, placing his arms behind his back and standing taller. You felt smaller and smaller, your nerves bundling together in anticipation.

“You know I don’t like you getting your hands dirty, love, but you did it anyways.” He began to circle around you, watching you like prey as you stood there. You were dead meat.

“That’s the first one. Violence. And you know what violence leads to?” He paused behind you, slipping his hand to curl around the back of your neck.

You cursed yourself for getting yourself into this mess. As much as you loved this side of him, you knew he would make you regret your attitude. His believe that if a lesson wasn’t learned in the act of punishment, it wasn’t properly demonstrated. He knew what you could take, so he’d always go just a little more.

The butterflies in your stomach fluttered to life at his warm hand, and your lips parted in a musical breath when you felt him kiss the shell of your ear. Your mouth felt full of cotton, and you cleared your throat to speak. “Unnecessary,” You licked your lips, just barely glancing back at him. “Unnecessary drama.”

He nodded. “Precisely. Take of your nightgown.”

You twirled around then, only to find him watching you with a predatory stare. “Why?” You didn’t mean to challenge him, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Why?” He tilted his head. “This isn’t just something I can let go, nor will I allow to be repeated. You know I don’t like punishing you, but I’m afraid you’ve left me no choice.”

Bullshit. Absolute bullshit. You almost raised your brows at him, almost, because he completely adored punishing you. Whether you were on your knees, crying and begging for him to allow you to cum, it didn’t matter what.

You clamped your mouth shut to keep from smarting off, knowing that would only worsen the outcome of the evening.

He gave you a quick glance, licking his lips. “Right then. Bend over the desk.” He nodded to the shiny, oak desk on the other side of the room, and instantly, your heart started hammering.

Ah, hell.

You blinked between him and the desk, your eyes wide as you took a step. You froze in place, not hardly having the nerve to move.

“Do I have to hold your hand and walk you over there?” He quirked an unamused brow. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Y/n.”

Yes, that wouldn’t help you in any way, and with shaky legs, found the will to make your way across the room, and you bent your body across the sleek wood.

He smirked lightly as he watched you, and he began rolling up his jacket sleeve as he approached you. As each step got closer, the pressure between your hips began to brighten to life, desperate and hungry for your husband. Even if it was pain, you still wanted it.

You shivered when you felt his hands at your hips, swiftly lifting your nightgown to rest on your back. He chuckled at the sight of your panties, and you flinched when he snapped the band against your skin. “You’ll have no use for these tonight. Remove them.” He stepped back to give you room.

You stood with a dizzy head, briefly glancing at him as you slid your undergarments down your leg. You tossed them to the side, and before you could get back into your position, he grabbed your chin.

His eyes were soft in that moment as he held your face, scanning over yours to check for any hesitation in your features. You smiled at the act, one that he did every time you both engaged in such activities. Despite his sadistic nature, Michael would never do anything to truly hurt you, or disregard any boundaries you may have set. He placed a soft kiss against your lips, and you sighed contently with a soft hum. You gave a light shake of your head, signaling it was okay.

And then you were pushed back down.

You gasped as you braced the fall with your hands, turning your face to the side and resting it against the cool wood. “Perhaps, I’ve spoiled you.” He spoke, giving your backside a soft squeeze before giving you a hard, sounded smack.

A small gasp left your lips as you tried to relax your body against the desk, squeezing your eyes shut when another smack came down.

“Unfortunately, I think more rules need to be arranged, because this,” He spanked you a third, and then a fourth time, and you cringed at the metal sting his jeweled fingers left behind. “Is disappointing.”

This wasn’t exactly rare, having been bent over and beaten by his hand, but you knew something as simple as this wouldn’t suffice him, or you, for a matter of fact, for very long. He’d hit you with any and every object he could usually get his hands on, leaving you a sobbing mess and remorseful for whatever crime you had committed.

Your jaw fell open when he hit you a fifth time, your hands bunched up into fists as you tried to suppress any noises.

“You could of talked to me, Y/n.” His voice was warm and soft, and when his hand came down harder than before, you couldn’t help the surprised cry that tore away from your lips.

“I tried.” You said shakily, pausing him from hitting you again.

He chuckled, resting his hand on your lower back. “Really? I most certainly don’t recall you trying to have a civilized conversation about this. I only remember you resorting to a temper tantrum.”

You almost moaned at the way he talked to you, and the butterflies in your stomach were begging to be freed. You could feel your arousal pool between your legs, and when his finger trailed down your thigh, you flushed red at the exposure.

You cried out when he hit you again, harder, sending your body forward against the desk. Tears brewed in your eyes now, and one dropped onto the desk when he only continued your punishment.

You had tried to keep up with the numbers in your head, but it grew foggy as the numbers climbed. Harder and harder he hit you, quicker, and you gave up trying to hide your cries, masked with whimpers of arousal.

Finally, he stopped, looking down on you as you tried to keep from choking on your own breath. “Relax.” He leaned against the desk, his hand trailing over the red patterns on your ass and against your spine.

It was embarrassing how this kind of punishment turned you on, more so than the rest of him he had used on you. You liked the way he took charge of you, the way he spoke to you. Your breath hitched as you sniffled away, trying to calm down your tears. Your backside burned incredibly, and your were sure he left bruises on you from his rings. Still, the heat between your legs was just as bad. You throbbed almost painfully, your body craving him so bad it almost drove you to insanity. You were dripping down your thighs, and while he hadn’t said anything about it, you knew he was very well aware.

“You know, it’s hard focusing on disciplining you when all I can smell is your arousal.” You burned shamefully as he criticized you.

He tsked at you, playfully slapping your thigh. “Never fear, it only means I’m not being firm enough with you.”

You watched him move to the front of the desk, and you begged your body not to move and disobey him again. He rivaled through his desk drawer, and your nerves only grew more tense.

“You know, I thought it was funny when I found this,” You heard him shut a drawer. “Seeing as how this is a school of magic. However, now, I think it’s suits our current situation perfectly. You may look, I know you want to.”

With a tearful face, you lifted your eyes, only to find a slim, wooden ruler balanced in his hands. Oh, hell no. He smirked when your eyes widened, gulping. “You’re not- you’re not gonna hit me with that?” You knew it was stupid to even ask.

He smiled innocently at you, rounding the desk. “Bend back over. We aren’t finished yet.”

You groaned as you looked ahead, clenching your fists as you bent back over. “Oh, and I’d like you to count these, please.”

He gave you no time to prepare before he smacked the ruler down on your ass. A shocked gasp left your lips, your body lunging forward as you cried. “Ouch!” You whirled back around. “Michael, that hurt!”

He smiled, giving a solemn nod. “Good, that’s the point. Get back into position.”

You wanted to smack him clear across the face, and you felt more of your wetness drip down your thighs. You glared at him, challenging him, only courage that stemmed from how much you desired him. It took a lot not to kiss him, watching as he held the thin wood in his hands, looking down on you with a predatory stare.

He narrowed his eyes at your look, taking a step closer until his nose was pressed against yours. “Watch the way you’re looking at me, Y/n.”

He dared you to challenge him again, and with a dry swallow, you found yourself bent back over.

“Since you didn’t count the first one, we’re staring over.”

You took a deep breath, tightening your fists as you prepared your self. He flicked his wrist and brought it down, sharply and soundly it filled the room, along with your cry. “One!” You squeezed your eyes shut, a weak groan accompanied your words.

He hit you again, and you gasped louder, flinching when the sting grew more intense from the ruler. “Two!”

You were crying by the third and fourth hit, mucus leaking down your nose as your breath hitched in your throat. He showed no remorse as he continued bringing the ruler down. He knew what you could take, and by the looks of your glistening thighs, you were obviously enjoying this.

He smirked.

“F-five!” Your voice cracked, softly sobbing as you bit your fist. This, without a doubt, was more painful then you figured it would be, and you tried taking shuttering breaths as you shook.

“You look remorseful.” He said softly, his hand tangling in your hair. His eyes danced among your tears, lifting your head by your curls. “Are you?” He hummed.

You were practically rubbing yourself against his desk, desperate for any kind of friction you could get. “Please, Michael.” You whimpered, more tears falling down your face.

“Please, what?” He cocked his brow. “To stop? To keep going? Voice your thoughts, Y/n, you’ve seemed to have no problem with that tonight.” He scowled.

His hand caressed the inside of your thigh, and you let out a whimpered moan at the contact. “Touch me. Please, Michael, touch me.”

He rolled at his eyes at your pathetic display, dropping his hand completely. “This is supposed to be a punishment, Y/n, not a reward. I’m not going to fuck you.”

You pushed back against him, not giving up your tactics. “I’ve learned, Michael. I have. Please, I won’t disobey you again. I want you.”

He watched you with a raised brow, weighting whether or not your words were serious. He eyed the red stripes across your ass, and he knew damn well you wouldn’t be sitting without discomfort for the remainder of the week. He smirked at that. “Relax, I’ll give you what you want.”

You let out a filthy, loud moan when his fingers dipped inside you, your hands reaching out to grasp the edge of the desk. “Oh! Oh my-”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll stop.” He said sternly, moving a third finger inside of you. “Behave yourself and shut up, or you’ll get nothing.”

You took a hand and covered your mouth, and your stomach coiled and clenched as he began fingering you. The moved in and out of you at a steady pace, lightly curling and teasing you. You whined, but before you could beg him to go faster, he already was. Your mouth fell open when he entered a fourth finger, moving roughly as the slouching sound filled the room.

“I should lock you in a cage for behaving the way you did tonight,” You screamed when he spanked you, the burn of his rings only adding to the pain already administered from that god awful ruler. “All because you felt I wasn’t paying enough attention to you, because I wasn’t touching you enough. You know what people call girls like you?” He beckoned for you to answer, peeking down at you.

You were practically sobbing from how good you felt, and your body moved back and forth against his fingers. “A- whore.” You cried, knowing damn well that’s what he meant.

He nodded. “Indeed. A disgusting, filthy, pathetic whore who belittled themselves into breaking the rules.”

You were peaking at your orgasm, and you hyperventilating as his thumb rubbed against your clit. Your eyes were nearly rolling into the back of your head, and you were sure the entirety of the outpost could hear you.

“All for this.” He tsked, watching you ride his fingers. “I know this is what you wanted love,”

You gasped out when his fingers left, a sudden empty feeling that left you shaking. You looked back, your eyes widening. “Why-”

“However, you’ll be getting no rewards tonight.”

He clasped his hands behind his back, watching you with a solemn stare. Tears streamed down your cheeks, hot and red with a runny nose. You were a mess, an angry one, now, it seemed. Still, you knew you deserved this, and Michael, believe it or not, seemed to be lenient with you, at least compared to how he’d acted before.

With shaky legs, you stood, your nightgown falling back down into place. You wiped your tears with your arm, sniffling as he watched you. You never knew what he was going to say in moments like these, moments where he stayed silent, watching as you had your moments of weakness. Softly, his finger went to your chin, tilting it upward, He scanned your eyes, your face and the trail of tears you left. The tip of his thumb came to your lip, and his eyes flicked back up to yours.

Once you composed yourself, you couldn’t help but smile, lightly chuckling to yourself. “I think I got your attention now.”

#michael langdon #michael x reader #ahs apocalypse #cody fern #american horror story #season 8 #smut #ahs smut

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brooklinn13 · 2 years

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“Amongst other things.”

Michael Langdon x reader

summary: Michael decides you need a lesson in respect.

warnings: ugh where to start. smut, obviously. language, spitting, choking, bondage, slapping, mentions of spanking, boot riding, humiliation, hints of sadism.

a/n: okay so i have mixed feelings on this, so let me know what you think of it! i have sort of a rough idea what i want to do for my next one shot, but i could always use some more ideas! happy cuming! xoxo

tagging some of my favs<3

@7-wonders @wroteclassicaly @icylangdon @bloodcoatedeclipse @sojournmichael @so-langdon @langdxn @littledemondani @fckinsupreme @dark-mei-rose

“Honey, will you help me with my corset, please?” You glanced over your shoulder, fingers fumbling with the strings of your corset.

Michael slid the long, black doors of your private suite closed, smirking at your flailing arms. He walked slowly to you, moving his soft hands to the strings of your corset as he placed a kiss to the back of your neck. “You look beautiful.” He said softly, his eyes flickering to your reflection in the mirror that stood in front of you both.

You hummed, relaxing your head back onto his shoulder. You both were exhausted, worked up at having been at outpost three. There were better places for you to be, you both knew this, but gathering selections were important for your future, so you had to be there. Michael disliked Venable just as much as you did, along with everyone else there. You didn’t like sharing your husbands attention, but you knew this was part of the procedure. You just wished you didn’t have to be trapped in this dreaded place.

Michael was hardly sleeping, only because he was so busy with forming his selection, which in return, meant that you didn’t sleep. You could, of course, but without him your bed was always left cold, leaving you tossing and turning all night. Your sex life was far from boring, but you had to admit there’d been a change from what it used be since being at the outpost. Slower, softer, and you loved it, that side of him, but you missed when he took ahold you, made you cum so hard you could barely think.

You swallowed at the thought, relaxing at the closeness of you two. “Are you coming to bed tonight?” You whispered over your shoulder.

“Don’t I always?” His voice was warm against your skin, leaving goosebumps that made you shiver.

“Well, you haven’t been sleeping much.” You breathed deeply, feeling your ribs go back into place as he continued untying the laces. “I miss waking up with you beside me.”

His eyes came to your in the reflection. “I know, love. We won’t be here much longer. Just have patience.”

You sighed at his words. “I have been patient, Michael. We’ve been here for almost a month. I just…I miss the sanctuary. You said we wouldn’t be here long.” He tossed your corset to the side when it finally fell from your waist, leaving you in the white, sheer cover.

“This takes time, Y/n.” He sighed as you turned around, and you pursed your lips in frustration. You stayed silent, though, only because you’d had this conversation one too many times.

“Are you sure you won’t come to dinner tonight?” He said after a moment, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Yes.” You nodded. “I’m exhausted.”

The atmosphere around you grew thick, a strained tension between you. You crossed your arms, looking to the floor as he stared at you.

“Sleep, then.” He hummed, patting the side of your head before turning on his heal.

“Michael, wait.” You groaned, reaching out to grab his hand. You didn’t want to spend another night alone, much less in this hell hole. “Why don’t you skip out on tonight?” You smiled, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“You know I can’t, darling.” He gave a small smirk, eyes piercing down on you.

“But you go every night!” You pleaded, frowning when he pulled your arms off of him.

You could see in his eyes that you were getting to him, pushing his buttons. It had been that way a lot lately, a tension between the two of you that wouldn’t go away. You knew why, simply because you weren’t spending enough time with him. And he knew this too, but he was too engrossed with work to see through it.

Michael had always been somewhat of a workaholic, through every moment of his life that you’d known him. He had used it to cope, and you understood this. His upbringing was troubling, the expectations on his shoulders grand. So, when he had days where he lashed out at you, you tried not to take it personally.

He always made his love for you clear, you never doubted that. Still, you missed him, missed the simple things. It seemed like forever since you had an intelligent conversation, or fucked each other so exotically that it nearly made you go blind. Perhaps, this made you no better than a common whore, you figured, but that was how Michael was, and you missed him terribly.

“It’s my job, Y/n.” He said firmly, no exceptions in his voice. “I must go. Don’t wait up for me.”

You felt angry with him, watching him stride to the door like there was no tomorrow. You knew better than to speak out like this, but you were done with being tossed to the side like an old rag doll. “Fuck you.” You spat, uncrossing your arms and glaring at his back.

His hand stilled on the glossy doorknob, and slowly, he turned around. “Excuse me?” He had a slight smirk, only making you more angry.

“You’re staying in tonight.” You nodded, taking a step forward. This was completely out of your character, demanding him this way. You had a mouth on you, that was for damn sure, but that was one of the things Michael loved most about you. Demanding orders, however, was a completely different subject, new territory. That’s why he couldn’t possibly take you serious.

“That’s cute, sweetheart.” He smirked in amusement, his shiny locks glimmering in the soft, orange tones of the room. “But, really, I must be going.”

And you, were going to stand your ground. “Don’t walk away from me!” You ordered, taking two steps forward.

Now, that, really got his attention. He spun around so quickly it made you flinch, stopping you completely. It was silent then, and you knew he was trying to decide whether or not you were serious. You willed yourself not to falter under his gaze, sharp and intimidating. When he stared at you like this, it made you feel like he was searching through your brain, like he was swimming through each fiber of your being and seeing your genetic makeup. You swallowed uneasily, but you didn’t let up your facade.

“You must be extremely agitated to speak like that to me.” He finally spoke, a short amount of distance between you.

“I am.” You crossed your arms. “You spend every evening out there with them. You’re staying in tonight with me.” It was hard not to let on how nervous you were, because Michael did not let this sort of thing slide. You knew this, but here you were, anyways.

“My, my you certainly have a mouth today.” He raised a brow, seemingly fascinated with your outburst. “Tell me, what’s inspired this?”

Was he stupid? You scoffed. “What’s inspired this? Are you kidding me? I just told you!” You screeched and threw your arms down. Michael only watched you.

“Michael, we’ve been here for a month now!”You exasperated. “Every night we’re having dinner with them! Can’t we just- I don’t know, have a night to ourselves for a change? You’re being unreasonable!”

“Unreasonable?” He narrowed his eyes, his voice loud. He was growing more annoyed with you by the second.

“Yes!” You gritted your teeth. “I don’t remember the last time you asked me how my day was. Everything is about you, Michael. You and your stupid interviews.”

“That’s enough, Y/n.” He said sternly, taking a step toward you. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Your jaw dropped so far you thought you heard your own teeth crackle against the floor. “Me?!” You nearly screamed. “How dare you! I’m tired of being treated like nothing but a useless pet to you! I’m not some bitch that you can just boss around, Langdon.” You were saying things that didn’t even make sense, not even to you.

But, you were wanting to make your point clear, and, you were pissed. Michael was blatantly obvious of that, but the reason he hadn’t blown you into bits was because he new most of it was just your dramatics. He knew you well, but that didn’t meant he was going to put up with it. He let you have your rant, as idiotic as it sounded.

“And you know what the worst part is?” Oh, you just had to continue. “You don’t kiss me like you used to, either.” You lifted your chin, smirking when you seen his eyes narrow. “You don’t touch me like you used to. You don’t fuck me like you used to. I’m surprised you haven’t slept with everyone in this entire outpost! You clearly show more attraction to them then you do your own wife!”

That there, was when he decided to step in.

You screamed when your back hit the wall behind you, your head slamming into the fine wood that you nearly saw spots. His hand was wrapped around your throat, squeezing and forcing you to look up at him. It was then when you realized all that you had said. Hell, it was hard not to with the position you were in.

You tried looking away, but he only squeezed harder, tilting his chin down at you. His eyes were the most intimidating thing about him, and you had to admit, when he stared at you the way he did, it sometimes scared you.

“So, that’s what this is about?” He growled. “You want to be fucked like a whore?”

Oh, God, yes. And you would of said so, but he was restricting your ability to speak, and that made it a tad difficult. You knew all you had said had been complete and utter bullshit. You meant none of it, and knew it hadn’t been true. Michael also knew this, but he didn’t put up with you smarting off like this. “Speak!” He gave you some air.

You gulped in air, eyes watering as your windpipes grew dark. “Y-yes.” You choked out.

He let go of your throat, but only for a second, and you yelped when he slapped you across the face. “Try again.” He yanked your hair back, the fresh-stinging red of his hand marked across your cheek.

“Yes, sir.” Your voice strained, and he smirked at the sight of you.

You gasped when he suddenly bent you over the arm of the leather couch, and boy, did that couch see some exotic sights. You kept in your laugh, knowing it would only get you further up shit’s creek. He grasped the back of your head, turning your face so you could get a good look of yourself in the mirror. You looked ridiculous, you supposed.

“Tell me what you want me to do.” He looked down to you, his hand trailing up your spine. The slip you had on left little to the imagination.

You gulped at the position you were in, resisting the urge to grind against the couch, the pulsing between your legs growing stronger and stronger. “I want- I want you to fuck me.” You said.

He rolled his eyes, and the loud tearing of your slip filled the room. “No.” He cocked his brow, removing your panties as you watched him through the reflection. “That’s not what you want.”

The air was cool against your exposed skin, and your face grew red at the contact. “I want-” You whispered, closing your eyes in embarrassment.

“Don’t tell me you’ve lost your confidence now?” He chuckled. “You were just getting to the good part, darling. You know, when you said I didn’t kiss you like before. I don’t fuck you like I used to, remember that?”

You cursed yourself, staying silent.

He hummed, patting your back. “Well, don’t worry, I’ll help you remember.”

You gasped when he pulled you up, the remaining shreds of your slip falling to the floor. He pulled you across the room by the elbow, your face red and heart racing wildly. He tossed you toward the bed, and you shakily sat down as he opened a closet door. You watched him over your shoulder, your mind going mile per minute.

You found it funny, at least in some way, how obedient you were to him, how blindly you followed his every command. You knew your relationship was…odd, and were sure some people would suspect it was borderline abusive, and maybe in some ways, it was. But, you didn’t mind. This was what you wanted from him, it was how you wanted to be treated. He was right, because you were nothing but a whore. His, and only his.

Your eyes widened at the belt he carried in his hands, and he locked eyes with you as he shut the closet door. You gasped lightly when your back hit the bed, and his lips were on yours instantly. His hands pinned yours, his tongue attacking your teeth in a deep, sloppy kiss. “You have a filthy mouth, Y/n.” You breathed in deeply when you pulled apart. His eyes pierced down at you, and you knew better than to look away. “And as much as I would love to beat you black and blue for it,” He grabbed the belt, lifting it up and bringing it into view. “I think I’d like try something different. Stand up.”

You obeyed immediately, turning around to face him as he sat on the edge of the bed. He propped himself up by his hands, crossing one leg over the other. “What are you doing?” You finally managed to speak.

“Well, you made your point very clear earlier,” He nodded. “I don’t touch you the way I used to. I don’t please you. So, you’re going to do it yourself. Kneel.” He ordered, and you stalled slightly for a moment, your stomach churning with nerves and excitement.

He raised a brow at your hesitation, and he didn’t have to say anything, because the look alone he gave you was enough to crouch down to your knees. He smirked, uncrossing his leg.

He just looked at you for a few moments, watching you as you placed your hands on your thighs. Your arousal was beginning to shine down your leg, but you were too captivated in his stare to notice, or care, for that matter.

“My shoe,” He said after a moment. “I want you to ride it.” Now that, was new.

Your eyes narrowed, looking from him and down to his shoe. “What?” You choked out.

“You heard me.” He nodded. “I’m helping you remember how you want to be treated. This is the first step in doing so.” He acted as if this was your path to redemption, acting ever so nonchalantly.

Your eyes drifted down to his leather shoe, daydreaming about the mind blowing, ever loving orgasm you could have with it. Your eyes almost rolled in the back of your head from the thought, and before you could lift yourself off the ground, he stopped you.

“Oh, forgive me,” He startled you, grabbing the belt he had placed down. “Give me your hands.” He leveled the leather between his own, and you swallowed nervously as he chuckled. “Trust me, love, you won’t be needing them.” He took them into his own, swiftly wrapping the belt around your wrists. He gave you a look, a small smirk hidden beneath his lips. You winced as he tightened the belt around you, and you awkwardly maneuvered your knees so you wouldn’t fall over.

He didn’t say anything after that, and you knew he was waiting for you to make a move. With shaky legs, you lifted yourself off the ground and hovered above his shiny shoe. It was awkward at first, the foreign object against your slick pussy, but it didn’t stay that way for long. A tiny moan fell from your lips as you moved around awkwardly, trying to find an angle that you liked.

Your eyes squeezed shut when you found a steady rhythm, a breath of air forcing it’s way out of your lungs. “Oh, God.”

You yelped when he lightly kicked you from underneath. “Watch your mouth,” He said strictly, “Or I’ll wash it out.”

You didn’t know why, or how, but you gained confidence from that and you couldn’t help but chuckle, looking up to him as ripples of pleasure danced in your stomach. “With soap?” You smirked.

He raised off his hands, and you choked when he grabbed your throat, lifting your head so high you thought he would rip your windpipes clean in half. “Amongst other things.” He tilted his head, not finding amusement from your laughter.

You chuckled again, but he wasn’t having it. You gasped when he grabbed the back of your head, forcing you down against his bulge. “Something funny, whore?” He gritted his teeth.

You moaned against him, your eyes fluttering closed as you continued to ride his boot. Up and down you moved, the boot gliding easily against your slick. The circled your hips, the tip creating a burning pleasure against your pulsing clit.

“That’s what you are, isn’t it?” He fisted your hair. “That’s how you want to be treated?”

Yes, when it was by him, absolutely, yes.

You didn’t answer, only a loud, filthy pornographic moan that decorated the room. You were practically drooling on his lap. “Look at yourself,” He tsked, grabbing your head and turning your face the other way so your were in direct view of the mirror. If you hadn’t been in such ecstasy, you would of died from humiliation right then and there. “I want you to see how pathetic you look. Keep going, whore. I didn’t give you permission to stop.” His fingers gripped your hair so tightly, your skull burning from the contact.

You continued riding him. faster and faster as your moans grew louder. The side of your face burned from the pressure against him, and you felt him harden against your cheek. The pressure in your stomach grew brighter, hotter, and your legs shook against the ground with burning knees. “Fuck!” You cried out, not able to contain your cries. “Oh, God, I can’t- fuck,” You heard him groan above you, and you screamed against his thigh.

“I’m gonna-” You cried, tears staining the fabric of his pants. “Michael, I’m gonna-”

That was enough for him, you got the point. He pulled you off of his shoe before you could finish, tossing you onto the bed. You gasped when he flipped you onto your knees, your face pressed into pillows when he plunged inside of you. Simultaneously, you both let out sharp groans, and his hands gripped your hips harshly.

He pounded you from behind, skin slapping against each other as your moans filled the room. You knew there was a probable chance of everyone hearing you, but you had wanted his attention, and were certainly getting it now.

“You might be a whore,” He fisted your hair, bringing you up to his chest. You winced at the tightened pain against your wrists, the leather creating an uncomfortable friction. “But you’re my whore. Open your mouth.” His hand came up for your face, still thrusting into you relentlessly, and his fingers tore apart your jaw.

You moaned and whined like a spoiled brat, your neck sore from his hands that kept pulling on your hair. He reached over, giving you a slap across the face before spitting in your mouth. You were pushed back down immediately, your face burning. “You’re such a whore.” His voice was heavy, leaning down to tower over your back.

The headboard banged against the wall, both of your moans and heavy groans mixing with one another’s. “I’m your whore.” You whimpered, your pussy throbbing as you came close to the edge.

“Yeah.” He chuckled, licking the shell of your ear. “You’re my whore.”

#ahs apocalypse #michael langdon #cody fern #season 8 #ahs #ahs smut #american horror story #ahs fanfiction #michael langdon smut

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brooklinn13 · 2 years

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When are u going to finish with their darkest secrets?

Umm I really don’t know. I really don’t have any idea for part 4 if u do send them my way.

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brooklinn13 · 2 years

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Wine Tears

Summary: You want to leave Steve so you put a plan in motion, but Steve's got his own plans

Dark! Steve Rogers x fem! Reader

Warnings: 18+ DARK FIC READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION

Thank you to everyone that read my first dark one shot, Treasure, I hope you enjoy this one. I would love any feedback or comments thank you.

The snowfall had snuck up on you. It was a rare occurrence around these parts, but here you stood watching out the window as fresh snow began to blanket the land. A changing of the seasons, fresh snow, a fresh start. It all seemed so fitting. A pleasant surprise even though you--

“Hadn’t expected it to snow.” Steve stands at the archway between the kitchen and the dining room, drying his hair in a towel. You shuffle under his stare, in moments like these you wonder if he can read your mind, or at least your face.

“Yes, it’s quite pretty.” You walk over to him, “Reminds me of last winter,” caress his face, “when you took me ice skating.” You place a shy kiss on his lips. Steve thinks fondly over the memory, although he probably isn’t thinking about the ice skating, a smile plays on his lips before he licks it off.

“It was a good weekend away. Maybe we can back up there, would you like that?” You're more aware of your heart pounding in your chest. Scared Steve might be able to feel it, you nod and start to pull him to the dinner table.

“Come on, I’m starving.” You laugh and take your seat. Steve stands behind his chair, eyes trailing along the dinner, the meal isn’t anything special; lasagna the way your mom taught you and baked radishes paired with wine. “They’re the last from the garden.” You spurt out when Steve’s gaze lands on the vegetables. “The, um, radishes.” You clarify. “I read that they pair well with red wine.”

You sit straight with inner tension, a small smile on your face, and your hands sweaty in your lap. Steve hangs his towel on the chair to his right and finally sits. Your posture softens in relief but your thoughts are spirling, did your laugh sound forced? Why isn’t he saying anything? He must know! No, no you were careful, he can’t know.

You glance at him from your fork but it doesn’t do you any good, him being the brick wall he was, you never really learned how to read his face. A piece of meat falls off your fork and Steve eyes it and then you. “Careful there.” He says teasingly.

You pick it up with a napkin and ignore the pins in your head. Again you remind yourself that mind-reading is not possible. In order to calm yourself, you began to go through the checklist in your mind. Bag, car, Paradise inn, mom.

The bag was underneath the kitchen sink, taped to the left side, packed with a change of clothes and some money for gas, the car was an hour's walk away hidden in an alley, you’d drive straight home to your mom. Bag, car, mom.

Bag, car, mo--

“.../n.”

You blinked, “Huh…” You’re still holding the napkin in your hand only now you have it smashed in your fist, you drop it and quickly wipe your hand clean. “Sorry, what did you say?”

Steve holds his wine glass, his lips are stained and small drops run back down to join the blood-red pool at the bottom. You’re silent and frozen as you watch him swivel the glass and take another sip, a big one. “I was saying, you’re right. It tastes great with the radishes.” He gestures towards your glass with his own. “You should try it.”

You cut up a radish, chew and swallow all under Steve’s watchful gaze. Still holding his glass, Steve steadily takes another sip. You grab your own glass and raise it to your lips. Maybe it’ll ease you, it doesn't matter much now, Steve should be on the floor in minutes. The wine falls sweet on your tongue and until now you hadn’t noticed how thirsty you were. Through the glass, you see Steve down the rest of his wine and pour himself another.

Your eyes fidget around the room, you can feel the wine in your head already, washing over your thoughts and slowing the world around you. A smile twitches onto your face, you just can’t help it.

Steve’s chair drags across the floor and walks to you, glass and bottle in hand.

You stare up at him and think this is the last time you’ll ever look up at him. He pours you some more wine. Your throat is dry and so you accept it. “Sad about your garden.” Steve sets his glass down and he grips the table, knuckles white. You hum in response, “It’s okay, when spring comes I can tend to it.”

Steve chuckles and slams a fist onto the table and you jump back in your seat, “Next spring…” He falls to his knees, one leg at a time. He groans and grabs his stomach.

Your heartbeat speeds and your smile spreads to your cheeks. You thought this would be enough, that you would have been content with leaving him like this, leaving quietly and quickly. But watching him fall has awakened the anger in you, your head is rushing and you need to see it through, seeing him on his knees is not enough, you want to see him dead. If you don’t, the question of what if he’s out there will haunt you forever.

Steve raises his head, but he can’t keep it from leaning on his shoulder, he laughs some more but it comes out with a mixture of coughs.

“I poisoned your wine.” You admit.

You want him to know.

He pulls his strength together to lift his head upright, he wants to see you clearly, he’s got a devilish glint in his eyes and one last ace up his sleeve,

“Sweetheart, I poisoned the whole bottle.”

Your blood runs cold at his words. You shake your head, “No, no no no”

“YOU THINK I’D LET YOU LEAVE ME?” Steve’s screams rattle your world, betrayal, and ego dripping in his voice.

You stand only to sway, resorting to holding the table to keep you steady. You shake your head faster, this can’t be how it goes, he’s lying. He is, he has to be! But you feel it now, your legs are heavy, and they aren’t listening to you as you try to hobble away from the table. Your arms drag and swat the wine bottle down, it crashes on the floor. Steve’s still screaming at you, he’s now fully on the ground, maybe crawling or trying to. You don’t know for sure, you can’t look back.

His words come back to slap you in the face “… YOU… YOU WILL NOT LEAVE ME! You think you could outsmart me? ME? You think…I didn’t notice you working hard in your gar--… grow…ing that hemlock?” His speech slurs and slows, your own desperate attempts to pull air into your lungs join his, and all around the room, groans and deep wheezing ricochet off the walls.

A weight around your ankle takes you down and your head makes a nasty sound as it smacks the wooden floor. The pain is dull but you know that’s not a good sign. You roll over on your back to catch your breath, to your left Steve stops moving.

“Even in death,” an ugly pained croak of an inhale passes, “we’ll be together.” The sight of his eyes shutting blurs as your tears pool over, your hissed breathing now carries the burden of filling the silent night. No, no! You roll back onto your belly and begin your shameless crawl, in your head you chant,

Bag, car, mom.

Bag

Car

Mo--

#dark marvel fic #dark!steve x you #dark steve x you #dark steve rogers #dark steve #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve fic #dark!steve x female reader

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brooklinn13 · 2 years

Text

Next door part 7

Biker!bucky x reader

Summary- Bucky Barnes is a biker with a bad reputation, he’s intrigued by his neighbour and hates her boyfriend.

Warnings- domestic violence, non-con, gaslighting, victim blaming, emotional abuse, coercion, mentions of child abuse, pregnancy, mentions of abortion, allusions to eating disorders and self-esteem issues. ⛔️PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE READING AND LET ME KNOW IF IVE MISSED ANYTHING⛔️

This chapter has a very graphic scene- please read the warnings and skip this chapter if this will trigger you!

———————————

You clutched your phone to your chest as Jack banged on the door, tears streaming down your face when Bucky failed to answer for the fourth time.

“Let me the fuck in now Y/N!” Jack shouted “I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t!!”

The door rattled as his body slammed against it, you prayed that it would hold until bucky finally answered. You ran a hand over your stomach, scrunching your eyes shut as the need to protect the life inside you filled your entire being.

You dialled Bucky’s number again, letting out a sob when it went to voicemail. Jack would be able to get in within minutes, you had no way of protecting yourself.

—————————

“Bec? Mom?” Bucky shouted frantically as he and Steve entered the house.

“Jamie.” Winnie cried as she threw her arms around her son “thank god you’re here.”

“What the hell happened?” Bucky asked “are you okay?”

“We’re fine, we’re safe.” Winnie let out a deep breath, feeling safe again now her son was present.

Bucky looked over and saw Steve embracing Becca; speaking reassuring words into her ear as the girl cried.

“Let’s go sit down.” Bucky suggested.

“I’ll make some tea.” Steve said as he released his arms from around Becca’s shoulders.

“What did he want?” Bucky asked once the three of them were sat on the sofa.

“He wanted to talk to me.” Becca explained “he said he’s clean now and he wants to build a relationship.”

“And is that something you want?” Bucky asked.

“No.” Becca shook her head quickly “not after what he did.”

“Good.” Bucky sighed “that’s the right decision Bec.”

“Do you think we should move Jamie?” Winnie asked, tears continuing to stream down her cheeks “now that he knows where we live?”

“No, you don’t have to do that.” Bucky said as he accepted the tea from Steve “we’ll sort it.”

“What are you going to do?” Becca’s voice was small.

“Don’t worry about it Bec.” Steve said softly “we’ll sort it.”

“I don’t want either of you getting into trouble.” Winnie’s voice was filled with concern “you nearly got arrested last time.”

“He threatened you mom.” Bucky sighed “I couldn’t let him get away with it.”

“You almost killed him Jamie.” Winnie’s voice was filled with emotion.

“Should have finished the job.” Bucky grumbled.

“I don’t want my son going to jail.“ Winnie said firmly.

“Let me make a call.” Bucky said “I’ll organise a meeting with the guys and we’ll sort something.”

Bucky reached into his leather jacket for his phone, realising quickly he must have left it in the office.

“You can go Buck.” Becca said softly “we’ll be okay.”

“I’ll be back later.” Bucky said as he rose to his feet “Steve will stay here in case he tries to come back.”

—————THE FOLLOWING SCENE IS EXTREMELY GRAPHIC. DO NOT READ IF THIS WILL TRIGGER YOU, SKIP TO THE PART BELOW THE BREAK ——————

A crack had formed in the oak door, Jack continued to kick it. Everything seemed to go in slow motion as the door flew off the hinges.

“You should have just let me in Y/N.” Jack smirked at you, a wild look in his eyes.

“Please Jack…I’m sorry…please don’t-“

“Shut up.” He interrupted, storming over to where you were cowered in the corner, tears streaming down your face.

“Why couldn’t you just be good?” His voice seemed oddly calm as he paced the room “why do you make me hurt you?”

“I…I’m sorry.” Your voice was almost pleading.

“But you’re not Y/N. You’re not sorry because you keep doing it!” His voice raised “I’m a good fucking person, you’ve driven me to this. Do you understand?”

“I…I understand.” You cried.

“Tell me its your fault.” He turned abruptly, his eyes staring into yours.

“It’s my fault.” You whispered.

“Louder!” His voice boomed as he stormed towards you pulling your hair back so you were looking directly at him.

“It’s my fault.” Your voice cracked, your arms still wrapped around your stomach protectively.

“Again.” He demanded, the first punch landed across your jaw; causing your head to snap to the side.

You said it again, another hit followed.

And again. Another hit.

The cycle went on for what felt like eternity. Flashing lights entered your vision and you felt disconnected from your body.

“You’re going to get an abortion tomorrow, aren’t you?” Jack shouted, followed by another hit.

“I-I can’t Jack.” You sobbed “I don’t want to.”

The next hit was to your stomach, so hard you let out a scream.

You fell onto your back, a whimper leaving your lips as you felt Jack climb on top of you.

“P-please.” Your voice was barely audible.

“Shut up.” He snarled “you’re mine, I decide what you do. If you can’t realise that I have no fucking use for you.”

His hands wrapped around your neck, slowly applying pressure until you accepted your fate and gave into the blackness threatening your vision.

—————END OF GRAPHIC SCENE—————

Bucky was formulating a plan in his head as he rode his motorcycle to the club, he’d get Clint and Scott to go ‘speak’ to his dad. They’d threaten him, maybe rough him up a little. Enough to make sure he left town for good.

Once he pulled up he made his way into the building, stopping momentarily to say hello to a few of the club members before excusing himself to make his way up to his office.

He picked up his phone from where it had been left on his desk, preparing to call Clint and Scott to tell them the plan. Instead his heart stopped. 14 missed calls and 1 voicemail from Y/N.

“No, no, no.” He mumbled to himself as he pressed the voicemail message, praying you’d somehow dialled his number accidentally.

“You should have just let me in Y/N.” He could just about hear jacks voice over your laboured breathing.

Despair flooded through him when he heard you begging and crying. The voicemail was from 12 minutes ago, he ran back to his bike. Praying he wasn’t 12 minutes too late.

——————————

Bucky abandoned his bike on the side of the road, noticing immediately that Jacks truck was gone. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

He ran to your door, his breathing heavy as he entered your home. Nausea bubbled in his stomach as he took in the state of your home. The coffee table had been flipped over, picture frames were smashed on the floor and there were multiple holes in the wall.

“Y/N?” Bucky called out, cautiously making his way to the next room.

He kept his hand on his gun and he went from room to room, praying Jack hadn’t taken you somewhere else.

“No.” He whispered to himself when he entered your bedroom. You were lying on the floor, your face swollen and bruised, blood was flowing steadily from your nose and a gash on your forehead.

“Sweetheart.” He dropped to the floor beside you “can you hear me darling?”

No response.

He shook you gently, trying desperately to wake you up.

“My fault.” The whisper that came from your lips was barely audible, but broke Bucky’s heart.

“We’re going to get you to the hospital angel.” He said softly “you’re going to be okay.”

He quickly dialled 911.

“What’s the address of the emergency?” The operator asked calmly.

Bucky quickly gave your address.

“Can you tell me what’s happened sir?” The operator asked.

“It’s my neighbour…she…her boyfriend…he…she’s unconscious.” Bucky struggled to form a full sentence, eyes still fixed on your figure.

“Sir, I need you to tell me what happened.” Her voice sounded calmly through the phone.

“Her boyfriend has beaten her…she’s unconscious.” Bucky responded.

“Is she breathing?” The woman asked.

Bucky stared at your chest, the slow rise and fall that had been there moments ago wasn’t present.

“She…she was…I don’t think…I don’t think she is now.” He was holding in tears.

“I need you to place your ear to the side of her face above her mouth.” The woman instructed “listen for sounds of breathing and look for her chest rising and falling for 10 seconds.”

Bucky promptly put his phone on speaker and did as the woman instructed.

“She’s not breathing.” Bucky sobbed “please, you have to help her.”

“The ambulance is on its way.” The woman reassured him “I’m going to talk you through giving her CPR, I need you to focus for me.”

He followed her instructions, pressing down on your chest repeatedly with interlocked hands. Tilting your chin back and holding your nose before delivering two breaths into your mouth.

“Please Y/N…please.” Tears streamed down his face as he continued the chest compressions.

You remained still.

After what felt like a lifetime two paramedics rushed into the room, immediately attaching equipment onto your chest and shouting for Bucky to get out of the way.

“We need to transfer her to the hospital.” One of the men spoke up “she’s stable enough for us to transport her.”

Bucky followed them into the ambulance in a daze, his eyes never leaving your face.

———————————

Bucky paced the hospital corridor for what felt like the thousandth time. Running his fingers through his already tousled hair.

2 hours.

It had been 2 hours since the last update, images flashed through his head of your unconscious body. You looked so small, so vulnerable.

“Mr. Barnes?” The voice of one of the nurses pulled him from his thoughts.

“Yes?” His head snapped up immediately.

“She’s stable, and has been transferred to ICU.” You nurse’s voice was soft “would you like to see her?”

Bucky followed the nurse into your private room, a single tear falling down his cheek as he entered and took in the sight of your unconscious body.

“The doctor will be here in a few minutes to explain what’s happening.” The nurse said “ I’ll leave you alone with her.”

Bucky was desperate to take your hand in his, but the cast on your arm made him reluctant to do so.

“Hey sweetheart.” He crouched beside your bed “you’re okay, you’re going to be just fine.”

The steady beep on the heart rate monitor was the only response he received.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner angel.” He lightly brushed his fingers over your bruised cheek “I’m sorry I let this happen, I swear nobody will ever hurt you again. Not for as long as I live.”

“James, long time no see.” A voice sounded from behind Bucky.

“Bruce!” Bucky immediately spun around to embrace the man “thank god you’re here, how is she?”

“It’s not great.” Bruce said solemnly “6 broken ribs, clean breaks to the radius and ulna of the right arm, 3 broken phalanges on the left hand, hairline fracture to the left clavicle and what looks like a severe concussion. There’s a bite mark on her chest that will likely leave a scar, and there’s evidence of…there’s evidence that a sexual assault occurred.”

“She’s going to be okay though isn’t she?” Bucky asked “she’s going to be fine?”

“She’s going to be in hospital for a while, it depends how long it takes for her to regain consciousness.” Bruce explained “we’re doing everything we can though, I’ll make sure she has the best care possible.”

“And the…the baby?” Bucky asked, dreading the answer.

“By some miracle there’s still a heartbeat.” Bruce said “although it’s unlikely that the baby will survive long enough to be delivered…I’m sorry.”

Bucky felt tears form in his eyes, but blinked them away and nodded to Bruce instead.

“I’ll leave you to it…but just to make you aware the police are going to want to question you. I’ll delay them as long as I can.” Bruce said kindly.

“I appreciate it.” Bucky shook his friends hand and said goodbye before taking his seat beside you.

——————————

“I brought you some coffee.” Winnie’s voice was soft as she entered your hospital room, handing a cup to her son.

“Thanks Ma.” Bucky croaked out.

“How are things?” She asked.

“Nothing new.” Bucky sighed “Bruce said it could be up to 72 hours before she wakes up…it’s only been 24.”

“Why don’t you go home and get some rest Jamie?” Winnie suggested.

“I’m not leaving her.” Bucky shook his head “not now.”

“It’s not your fault James.” Winnie said, immediately noticing the look of guilt in her sons eyes.

“If I would have just brought my fucking phone.” Bucky’s head dropped forwards into his hands “I could have got there in time.”

“The only person who is responsible is that disgusting man.” Winnie placed an arm around his shoulder.

“I need her to be okay Ma.” Bucky spoke through tears.

“She’s going to be okay Jamie, it’ll take time but she’ll get there.” Winnie’s voice was soft.

Bucky raised his head to look across at your unconscious body, the steady beeping of the machine was the only indication that you were alive. He said a silent prayer that you’d forgive him when you woke up.

——————————

Note- Sorry for another delay in posting, this chapter was very challenging to write and brought up some difficult feelings and memories. I hope you enjoy reading, feedback is always appreciated❤️

Tags- @airyonna15 @silentkiller2374 @dottirose @vicmc624 @ginger-swag-rapunzel @rrrrussosstuff @impalaspixie @emetophilily @abitgryffindorky @ajeff855 @elizamalfoyy @annemargerie @that-napa-know-how

#biker!bucky #biker!bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x fem!reader #bucky x reader #protective!bucky #bucky x reader fic #bucky x you #tw: abuse

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