deer!reader meeting dex through being a hostage at the bank she works at :(
maybe it was naive of you to assume it could never happen to you — a bank robbery, that is. after all, you lived in new york, and with fisk in charge the city had fallen into mayhem. now, you stand facing the vault — looming figure right behind you, keeping you faced away from him.
a couple of tears slip down your face, you can’t help it — you’re so nervous, trying to type in the long and tedious passcode you were made to memorise a long time ago on your first day. when the vault made an obnoxiously angry buzzing sound, signifying that you put the passcode in wrong, you all but whimper like a frightened puppy.
“i’m sorry, my hands are just shaking so much, i’ll do it again m’just nerv—”
“hey. you’re okay. take a breath and try again for me.” his voice is surprisingly more gentle than it was earlier when you’d heard him drop the security guards. oddly enough, it’s reassuring — and you nod, wiping your tears on the back of your hands, going to try again.
“i’m really sorry.” you whisper, shakily beginning the sequence again.
“you’re okay sweetheart. i’m not gonna hurt you. just concentrate on the passcode for me.”
you hated that his kindness made it harder to focus, trying to ignore the warmth of his body and his raspy voice. or maybe it was the sweetheart nickname that did it for you?
whatever it was, it looped around your head for weeks as the bank recovered. you wondered who he was, where he was, why he was so nice to you, and dex being dex — he just couldn’t stay away. he needed to know you, the sweet girl from the bank.
he’s returning to the bank in regular attire weeks later, requesting your help with a charming yet knowing smile on his face when your ears prick up in recognition at his voice. it had to be him.
fast forward again, it’s the voice you fall in love with. the voice that reassures you, telling you he’d never let anyone hurt you, telling you he’d never let you get in any trouble, telling you how pretty you are when you cum.
“listen to her baby, so good at talkin’ for daddy.” he coo’s almost mockingly as he pushes into your wet heat once again, the way you cream around him audible amongst the quiet walls of his apartment. he has you face down ass up, a compromising position you wouldn’t fathom yourself in if not for your much older boyfriend. you squirm, embarrassed at the way you squelch around him and he holds you down, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest. “dont run from it now. my girls not a runner is she? wasn’t even scared the first time we met. who’s my brave girl?”
“me.” you choke out, though you’re not fully convinced that word is completely accurate to your timid ways.
“me.” you cry, as his arm snakes round your hips to toy with your clit.
dailybridgerton
origamiaround
turnnoffyourmind
amandla
yousharknotpass
