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#had me feelin some type of way
kindacreepy-kindaugly · 5 months
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is it depression or is my appetite gone cause I'm preemptively preparing for when Val gives up on any progress & his relationship for real n starts givin me shit about my weight again
#i mean idk if it's gonna happen but#it might#why do i care what he thinks? ain't that the question#n i mean i know it's not even abt my appearance rly cause he gave me shit about it in my source body too n that one's full heroin chic#it's just abt the control#he likes me weak & he likes it when i starve myself for him#thank fuck our sleep meds make me hungry as hell cause otherwise i wouldn't be eatin at all#just need to make sure i have easy food available so we get some actual nutrition too instead of just junk#even the junk's better than nothing though!#it's not a body image issue for me atm but i'm kinda worried it might turn into one#like pllllssss we already had one ana stint we rly don't need another go at that it fucking sucked#n as a bonus doesn't even make us lose any weight cause our metabolism's fucked lmao#so it'd literally just be me eroding our insides for nothing. except like a brief feelin of satisfaction i guess#i can get that in less dangerous ways too tyvm#so i rly rly hope val's up to speed w/ the way it'd get legitimately dangerous for the body him included. n also make him feel like shit#if he wants that type of control there's other shit he could have me do. nothing i'd like but at least w/ less or no physical harm included#kinda wish my life wasn't like 80% harm management at this point but. it is what it is.#at some point it's gonna change. someone else is gonna take over.#all i havta do is keep shit running w/ as little long term damaga as possible til then#can my sedatives fucking do smth my heart's still fucking pounding for no reason uggghhhh#spdrvent#disordered eating cw
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norrizzandpia · 1 year
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The Video (LN4)
Summary: Y/n and Lando’s club dancing sends the F1 world into a frenzy.
Warnings: sexual innuendos, sexual conversations, its short im sorry, if you want something more to this storyline lmk in the requests ill prob do it lol
Note: IVE HAD THIS IDEA IN MY HEAD LONG BEFORE I EVEN STARTED WRITING
TWITTER
ln4andop81 how yall feeling after that leaked vid?
- mclarensgirly FIGHTING. FOR. MY. LIFE.
- f1fan2 if i speak.
- ln4andop81 what shall we address first.
- mclarensgirly maybe the GRINDING????
- f1fan2 PLZ I SCREAMED THE WAY HIS HANDS GUIDED HER HIPS 😫😫😫😫
- ln4andop81 THE WHISPERING IN THE EAR???
- mclarensgirly BRUH I JUST KNOW LANDO SAID SOMETHING SO GODDAMN QUESTIONABLE BY THE LOOK OF Y/N’S FACE
- f1fan2 bro literally moved his hands up to the bottom of her boobs and down and then whispered some crazed shit in her ear and i died. THE PERSON WHO FILMED THAT VIDEO I LOVE YOU 😋😋
- ln4andop81 yeah i think its safe to say that lando norizz is definitely a myth.
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y/nnn so about last night.
Comments:
mclarensgirly ABOUT LAST NIGHT MY ASS
ln4andop81 girly had a whole video of her grinding on her bf leaked and her response is “about last night”. icon.
landonorris i had fun 😙
- mclarensgirly BYE
- ln4andop81 MANS IS INSANE
- f1fan2 so moral of the story lando basically fucked his gf in public and said “i had fun” NO SHIT
- mclaren dont think you understand the pr situation at hand 😀
- mclarensgirly NOW IM DONE FOR
- ln4andop81 MCLAREN ADMIN IS FIGHTING ON THE FRONT LINES RN
maxverstappen this is why i said to not drink too much
- y/nnn YOU PUT THE DRINKS IN. MY. HAND.
- landonorris i think your exact words were “next round on me?”
- kellypiquet i am afraid babe that you did in fact do and say both of those things
TWITTER
Mclarenfan22 its the way lando pushes y/ns hips into him so she can be as CLOSE as possible
- circledriving-racers plz when i first saw that vid i rlly didnt think by the end of it i would know what lando looked like when he was clearly feeling some type of way
- ln4andop81 yeah bc the way he threw his head back when she started circling her hips against his spoke VOLUMES
- papayafan it had ME feelin some typa way and i wasnt even the one getting danced on
- ln4andop81 i feel like its prob for the best the vid ended before we could see them separate bc i feel like we wouldve seen LANDO and not lando if yk what i mean 😟
- papayafan a bone-
- mclarenfan22 we would rlly know EVERYTHING abt him at that point
- ln4andop81 im willing to bet a large sum of money (im broke) that hes big
- y/nnn is this where im supposed to “enter the chat”?
- ln4andop81 MAAM.
- mclarensgirly YES. SPILL THE TEA.
- f1fan2 YEAH DO THE PUBLIC A SERVICE AND TELL US ‼️‼️‼️
- y/nnn i think i would like to gatekeep this one girlies 💋💋
-mclarensgirly wow.
- ln4andop81 ill never get over how it girl she is.
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landonorris it was a great night and thats all i have to say abt it
Comments:
oscarpiastri UHHHHHHH
mclaren we cant catch a break ever
y/nnn BABE THE SIGN 😭😭
- landonorris i thought it really translated my thoughts 🙏🏻
- mclarensgirly BRO DOESNT GIVE A FUCK GAHDAMN
ln4andop81 so i guess the question rlly is: did the sign become reality?
- landonorris what do you think 🤭
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atrwriting · 14 days
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thinking about logan with his cigar.
...and you know you are too.
you weren't sure why, but you did know when it started... it was the first night you had ever seem him in his preferred outfit and setting: outside, in boots, jeans, leather belt, and tight white tank top tucked into his jeans. his chest and facial hair on full display, in the same way a person would accessorize with gold or silver. and in his mouth? between his lips, that he always ran his tongue over? a fat, dark cigar. lit at the tip, influencing him to take small puffs of smoke into his mouth.
"you don't inhale, sweetheart," he would tell you. "not a cigarette."
you rolled your eyes. "i know – jus' don't understand why."
"that's just how 's done."
you were both the type to escape outside, sharing the same terrace as you were neighbors. sometimes, from your window, you could see him sit back in his chair – manspreading, staring off into the distance at the tres as if he longed for the forest. to you, logan was the epitome of masculinity – rough and rugged, around every edge of him. sometimes – late at night, when you could see him through your window from your bed – you would let your glances linger. linger for just a little bit longer than they should have, but who could blame you?
"if you're gonna stare, sweetheart –" he'd begin before he took a pull from his cigar, keeping his eyes on the window as he did. he would puff his cheeks once, twice before he would hold the smoke in his mouth for a moment – just a moment – before he would let it escape past his lips. "– you might as well come out 'ere."
like a good little mouse, you would come out onto the terrace. in the night – and only in the night – you would have enough courage to walk over to where he sat on the bench. as always, he was leaning back against the back of the outdoor couch with his arm across the back – usually you'd be scared and weary, but not at night. never at night. at night, he couldn't see the blush on your cheeks. at night, he couldn't see how the heat that rose on your face was hot enough to rival the heat at the tip of his cigar. at night, you felt braver.
you would sit next to him – planting yourself right on his side, leaning into his warmth. the first time you did it – he was surprised. but every time after? he never winced again. every time after, he'd eye you through the window – as if he was wondering why you weren't already out there, and chose to instead pretend to not stare at him through the window where only the glow of his cigar could illuminate his handsome face. it was like he could see through the window in the darkness – staring right into your eyes.
soon, every time you tucked yourself into his side – his arm would fall from the back of the outdoor couch. it would fall, and his fingers would catch themselves on the skin of your upper arm. they would lightly rub against your skin, goosebumps immediately rising. you would shiver, and he would hide a chuckle. soon, he wouldn't even try to hide the affection. he would wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you into his side – until the only thing that hit your senses was the smell of whisky, cigar, worn leather, and wood.
logan. all of those things made up logan.
and when you continued the charade after some time – pretending he couldn't see you through the window – he had enough. why weren't you already out there, and instead insisting on playing these games?
"cigars only keep me so warm, sugar," he'd say, sparking the end. "better come out 'ere and keep me company."
____
brothers soft logan has got me feelin some type of way -L xoxo lmk ur thoughts
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propertyofwicked · 3 months
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TRANSFERRABLE
platonic!f1grid x reader SMAU
in which the 'injury to race success' curse is seemingly a transferrable skill....
✧ my inbox is open ✧
masterlist the playlist
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mclaren have posted!
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 99,223 others
mclaren LANDOSCAR 1-2 LFGGGGG 🧡
view all 5,421 comments
user2 mclaren dominance era
landonorris LFG 🧡
⤷ user7 🔛🔝
oscarpiastri 🧡🧡
⤷ user1 that last overtake had me feelin some type of way mr piastri
⤷ landonorris don't feed his ego any more i beg
nicolepiastri glad i cancelled my pilates session!
user19 LANDO MULTI-WINS
alex_albon congrats guys! well deserved!
⤷ user4 is y/n holding a gun to your head as you type this alex?
⤷ alex_albon no comment.
williamsracing have posted!
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liked by alex_albon, logansargeant, and 87,972 others
williamsracing both boys in the points! YES SARGE (and albono)! smiles all round in the garage today
view all 5,421 comments
alex_albon "....and albono" - cheers admin.
⤷ williamsracing shush let me celebrate in the way i see fit
⤷ alex_albon sorry admin, i'll leave :(
⤷ logansargeant ...are you trying to guilt trip them rn?
⤷ alex_albon shut up i think it's working
⤷ williamsracing it's not ❤️
user5 logan in the points and an LN win on the same day - the power of manifestation
logansargeant thank you everyone!
⤷ williamsracing we knew you could do it sarge 🫡
user8 where is y/n in the comments bro :(
user10 hell hath frozen over
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yourusername has posted!
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liked by landonorris, logansargeant and 75,926 others
yourusername joined the no appendix club - this is going to ruin the tour
view all 5,421 comments
landonorris what tour?
⤷ yourusername the world tour!
logansargeant i warned you! i told you to see the doctor. and what did you say? "it's just a stomach ache".
⤷ yourusername in my defence, it WAS a stomach ache...just caused by my appendix slowly bursting
⤷ logansargeant when will you learn to listen to me?
⤷ yourusername when? when did i ask?
user12 everyone say thank you y/n!
⤷ user8 thank you!
⤷ user3 thank you!
⤷ logansargeant thank you!
⤷ landonorris thank you!
⤷ user6 when even the drivers credit their success to y/n and her appendix 💀
⤷ logansargeant i prefer to consider it a surprise tool i can use later
⤷ yourusername it? tool? that's it, im taking away your appendix privileges.
oscarpiastri formally requesting you remove your gall bladder for the next race pls and thank you
⤷ yourusername ...no?
⤷ oscarpiastri fake friend
⤷ oscarpiastri heart 💔 been broke 📉 so many times ⏰
carlossainz55 welcome amigo!
⤷ yourusername does the pain of having your organs rearranged ever go away?
⤷ carlossainz55 eventually, you just have to be patient
⤷ landonorris i can help rearrange them back to normal if it doesn't
⤷ yourusername i- i don't know how to respond to this
⤷ landonorris is that a yes?
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keys-hellscape-1020 · 2 years
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5 times you took care of the 141st, and one time they took care of you
Happy (late) holidays everyone! I hope you enjoy this piece!
Platonic!141st x medic!reader
Warning: Canon typical violence, minor angst, hurt/comfort, medical inaccuracies, military inaccuracies, very minor gore, hospital type settings, minor illness, fainting, brief mentions of vomiting, cursing.
1st
“Need a medic stat!”
You rushed through the battle ground, attempting to make your way to the other side of it. This was made extremely difficult by the large chunks of rubble scattered about, oh and the fact they are at least a dozen people shooting at you.
“Stitch!!”
“Soap I’m on my way, apply pressure I’ll be there soon!” You panted, vaulting over some rubble and sliding to cover to prevent getting shot yourself.
The mission had gone to shit extremely quickly. You were just supposed to get the information and get out, stick together and move quickly. You all were not anticipating bombs being dropped on your heads from enemy aircrafts.
They had scattered you all quickly, as each of you attempted to avoid being hit. It seemed as that was their plan because as soon as you all were split up enemy soldiers surrounded you out of nowhere.
Price has called for an evac, but the lack of non blown up landmarks made it difficult to regroup.
You fired off a few shots into the smoke, praying they found their mark, and took off once more.
Going over and under rubble, left and right, in and out, it felt like you were never going to reach Soap.
Just as you were about to start violently cursing the gods for the situation you were in you saw Soap a few hundred yards off from you. To your surprise he looked to be in alright shape, the lump next to him however you couldn’t say the same for.
“Soap I have visual on you, what’s the situation?”
“The situation is Gaz is bloody shot!!”
Cursing under your breath you moved from your cover once more. Keeping low to the ground, more crawling than running at times, you finally made your way to Soap and Gaz.
Sliding in next to them you got to work. Looking Gaz over, you immediately started treating the biggest and most obvious problem, the bullet wound in his stomach.
Soap had tried his best to stop the bleeding, that much was clear from the soaked gauze packed into the wound, but with the need to return fire he couldn’t keep up with it.
You applied heavy pressure on it, praying that’s enough to keep him alive until he can get to a hospital.
“Price where the hell is that damn evac?!”
“3 minutes out, landing in what used to be the hospital parking lot. I’ve got Ghost with me what’s your status?”
“Me and Soap are alright, Gaz has been shot and is loosing blood fast he needs to get out of here asap!”
“We need to move!” Soap yells at you over his shoulder from where he’s returning fire at the enemy.
You act fast, harshly rubbing Gaz’s sternum to wake him up.
His eyes barely peak open, “Stitchy? What’s goin’ on?” He sounds drunk, which with how much blood he’s lost doesn’t surprise you.
“Hey, hey buddy, stay awake, your badly hurt we need to move.” You chirp, trying to keep your voice light despite the situation. “How you feelin’ bud? Can you talk to me?”
As you speak you rummage through your pocket, sighing in relief when you find what you were looking for, a stim shot and some pain relief.
Gaz had nodded off again in the brief time you weren’t speaking, and you lean in again to speak to him. “Gaz!! Come one buddy, keep your damn eyes open!”
“Stitch!” Soap calls from behind your back, the urgency in his voice can not be ignored.
“I know!” Deciding that you don’t have time to wake him up, you quickly stab the stim shot into his thigh.
That wakes up Gaz with a start. He flinches in pain, his eyes now wide open.
“Welcome back to the world buddy!” You shout at him, quickly injecting him with pain relief and tightening the sloppy bandage around his midsection one last time.
“Soap! Ready to move!” You call to him, hauling Gaz’s arm and part of his body, over your shoulder.
Soap leads the way, ducking behind rubble and returning fire when he can. You both move as quickly as you can, you would be lying if you said you weren’t struggling to keep up. Gaz was already fairly heavy, he also has all his gear on him which did not help your situation at all.
You were falling a bit behind Soap, but you kept hauling both you and Gaz towards him as fast as you could.
You were not going to let either of you die out here.
Finally you both reach the evac sight. Laying eyes on Price and Ghost you feel like you can breath again.
You run up next to where they’re positioned behind a large chunk of rubble. Laying Gaz down with his back to it you go to check his bandages again.
When you glance up to his face you notice that he’s awake. “How ya feelin’ bud?” You shout over the sound of gunfire, applying more pressure to his bleeding wound.
“Like shit.” He quips back.
You struggled to hear him over the sound of gunfire, but you were glad that he was conscious enough to talk to you and process what your saying.
Finally, fucking finally, your hear the sound of what might as well be the holy grail.
The heli lands about 20 yards away from you, cruising down to the ground, before it’s even landed Price is yelling orders.
“Stitch and Gaz move first, the rest of us will cover you from behind!”
You throw Gaz’s arm back over your shoulder and haul him onto his feet, thankfully he’s now awake enough that he can help you instead of you dragging him. Once you reach the heli you throw the top half of his body in, causing him to wince in pain.
“Sorry bud!” You shout over the noise of the chopper, pulling him the rest of the way in. You lean over him, securing him inside the chopper, then lifting up his shirt to check and make sure his bandages are still tight. Thankfully the bleeding has slowed down enough where there is minimal blood visibility through the bandage which makes you breath a sigh of relief.
You feel the heli taking off and you glance over your shoulder to make sure all your boys got onboard in one piece.
“Any other injuries I should know about?” You shout over the sound of the Heli.
“Your gonna have some if you don’t bloody sit down and secure yourself!” Price yells back at you.
You back off sitting yourself down next to Gaz. He was still hurt badly, but at least now he was as stable as you could get him.
All things said?
That was a shit show.
2nd
You hummed as you fluttered around the med bay busily. Moving from one spot to the other, carefully taking inventory with your trusty clipboard in hand.
You were truly in your element, everything was calm, orderly, and you were free to just do your job without any interruptions.
The door to the infirmary swung open, hitting the wall with a bang! In came Ghost, dragging a whining Soap behind him.
Ghost looked seriously pissed off, his eyebrows were noticeably furrowed under his balaclava and his shoulders were hunched. If you were to rely on context clues the only reason Soap was here was because of Ghost’s firm grip on his bicep.
“Can I help you?” You ask, face completely dead-pan.
Ghost doesn’t respond, just roughly pushes Soap towards you. Now that you have a better look at him you can see that his shoulder looks… wrong to say the least.
“What did you do this time?” You sigh, walking over to grab Soap by his ear.
“Owww” Soap whines “Sure! Pick on the injured person why don’t ya?”
“How do you always get injured at base but never on missions?” You taunt, pulling Soap over to the nearest available gurney.
You gesture for him to sit down on the bed, and when you turn around you notice Ghost, still standing where you left him.
“Either sit down or leave Ghost, there’s no lurking in my medical bay.” You say, grabbing what you need to treat Soap.
Returning to Soap you gently push him down on his non-injured shoulder. “Y’know if you wanted me like this you could’ve just asked.” Soap taunts with a wink, prompting you to sigh.
Thankfully he’s in a tank top or you would have to cut off his shirt, you know from personal experience with treating him that when you have to do that he makes plenty of comments.
“Alright, this is probably gonna hurt like a bitch, don’t punch me.” You say as you put Soaps arm in the proper position for realignment.
“Wouldn’t dream of it la- OW WHAT THE FUCK.”
“All done” you quip, pulling off your gloves. You look back over your shoulder to see Ghost has moved to the foot of the gurney.
“What were you two even doing?” You ask, putting your supplies away and getting different ones out.
“Fuckin” “Sparing” They say at the same time.
You should’ve know better than to ask.
3rd
You can’t believe this. You can’t believe your boys. You knew they could be stupid sometimes but this is next level!
Thankfully most of them had gotten away with minor injuries, and somehow you had gotten out without a scratch, despite not even knowing the plan before they decided to execute it.
Soap and Ghost had only bumps and bruises, somehow, considering they were in the thick of their stupid plan. Gaz had a few scrapes and a sprained ankle, but you patched him up then set him off with a crutch and a promise to go easy on it. And the captain? You don’t even know how he managed it considering he’s supposed to be the smart one, but he broke his leg.
So now you are in the med bay, essentially holding your own captain hostage (not like he could get very far if he did decide to run off).
He is not a good patient. None of your boys are. He complains about being there, says how he wants to leave and how he wishes he could do things for himself. You understand that, but the best thing for him at the moment is rest, and he seems adamant on not taking it.
“Stitch”
“If you ask me if you can leave again I’m smacking you.” You say while walking over to him.
“I don’t suppose there’s any way for me to go get food is there?” He asks, looking far to innocent for his own good. He’s planning something. You just know it.
“I’ll call one of the boys to bring you something up.” You quip, already walking away, intent on y’know, doing your job.
“Stitch” You hear him call as soon as you walk away.
“Yes sir?” You question, turning around to stare him dead in the eyes.
“How long until I get out of this hell hole?”
“Until your leg heals or you get put on leave.”
“Leave?” He sounds actually startled at that proposition, prompting you to walk closer to him.
“Just for a few months sir, until your leg heals.” You soothe. As quick as the startled look in his eyes appeared it was gone. Masked down under his cool captain facade.
“You can have a few months of uninterrupted down time with your husband. Doesn’t that sound nice?” You ask, walking over to stand next to him, setting your hand on the knee of his uninjured leg.
“Have you met yourselves? You all will get killed without me here!” He exclaims, running a hand through his beard in exasperation.
“You’re one to talk sir.” You say deadpan. “Trust me the boys will be fine. They will be better off without you for a few months than they will be if they see you constantly cooped up in here.”
“Stitch, nothing good can possibly come from me not being here!”
“Sir,” you quip as you sit on the side of his gurney, “you need to give them more credit. They’re smart, strong, soldiers, and if you order them to they’ll hold themselves together until you return.”
“You think they can’t behave unless their ordered?” Price smirks.
“What can I say, I know them to well.”
“Hard to argue with that.”
4th
You woke up to a thudding in your head.
Thud, thud, thud.
Thud, thud, knock.
Knock, knock, knock.
As you come to, your groggy self realizes that loud, obtrusive noise is not coming from within your head, but outside it. You go to answer the door, (tripping over your blankets on the floor in the process) and find Ghost standing behind it.
You realize with a start that he’s in civvies, and has replaced his balaclava with a simple black face mask. While this should’ve been expected, it still comes as a surprise to you. They look unnatural on him.
“Ghost? What are you doing here?” You ask, trying not to scream on account of it being 3 am.
He nudges you to the side, walking in so you can close the door, and it’s then that you notice that his black shirt is getting even darker with blood.
“Ghost, what the fuck.” You sigh, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards your couch. “Stay here, I’ll be right back with first aid.”
You run to the bathroom, fling open the cabinet under the sink to grab the first aid kit and run back.
“If you ran like that during missions we might have to cover you less.” Ghost muttered.
“Oh shut up, what did you even DO.” You ask, pulling up his shirt with a pad of gauze ready in your other hand to staunch the bleeding.
You find the culprit quickly, a long but shallow gash along his side. It would need stitches, but thankfully you could do that here.
“How’s it look doc?” He mumbles, barely legible.
“You’ll be fine after some stitches but how did you even do this? We’re on leave.” You question, absolutely exasperated. You all were on leave and you still couldn’t catch a break from your idiot boys.
His response is mearly to grunt and look away from you.
“Alright then, well I’ll go ahead and clean it up for you alright?” You mutter.
You go through the motions, this is something you’ve done a million times. Clean, antiseptic, stitches, bandage, done.
As your putting everything away you notice Ghost is staring at the floor, and something about him feels… off.
As you go to put the first aid kit away you nudge his foot with yours, “You feelin’ alright bud? You can stay the night if you need.”
“‘M fine” he mutters, still not making eye contact.
“Wow that was convincing.” You dead pan as you walk away from him to go put up your first aid kit.
When you return to his side you gently rest your hand on his shoulder and say, “Listen, I don’t know what happened but you can stay here as long as you need. I gave you all this address for emergencies after all.”
He eyes you, before reaching up to your hand on his shoulder and giving it a squeeze, “Thanks Stitch”.
“Anytime.”
5th
You are starting to believe you’ve done something to piss off the gods.
You have just gotten back from leave and already the rest of your task force is sick. It started with Soap, who had come back to base with it, except he insisted it was nothing and went about training like he normally does. Him refusing to rest like you told him to led to him getting Ghost sick, not a surprise with how much they… “hang out.”
Next was Gaz, who despite you telling him not to, was adamant about treating them. When he inevitably fell to the illness he went whining about it to Price, who despite his best efforts, still got it. You suspect if he hadn’t still been trying to get his leg back to what it was before he broke it he could’ve outran him.
And then there was you. The sole survivor.
For some reason all of them had decided to wallow in your room, something about Soap insisting it had “healing properties” because your a medic. You told him to get out. He didn’t listen.
Gaz had curled up in your bed, Price had taken the couch, Soap curled up in your arm chair, and Ghost took the rug.
You were going to do so much cleaning once you managed to get these fuckers out.
But for now, you had to be in medic mode. So you went in. Armed with a face mask, gloves, everything antiseptic you could get your hands on, you started your plan: get the sick bastards out of my room.
The first step was making them feel better, so you decided on a classic sick food; chicken noodle soup.
You pushed the door to your room open with your back, on account of you carrying a heavy tray with 4 bowls of soup.
“Hiya boys, how are you feeling?” You chirped, setting the tray down on your desk. “I brought dinner if your feeling up to it.”
Much to your amusement Soaps head immediately shot up at the promise of food. “What did ya bring?” He rasped, the poor thing had lost most of his voice when he got ill and he was only now starting to get it back.
“Chicken noodle soup, although I’m not sure the bastard who started this whole mess should get any.” You quipped, even though you were actively handing him a bowl.
“Thank ya kindly.” He mumbled as he took the bowl from you. As far as your boys went Soap was the closest to looking like his regular self. Yes he didn’t have much of a voice, and his energy was way down from normal, but he was the least pale, and obviously the one with the most appetite.
“Anybody else want any?” You asked, glancing about your room turned sick bay.
From the corner of your room you saw Price weakly raise his hand from the couch. “Geez dramatic much?” You snorted out a laugh while handing him his bowl.
“Don’t bully the ill Stitch.” Gaz huffs from your bed.
“Your in my room, I’ll bully as much as I please.” You huffed “Now do you want soup?”
You saw Gaz lift his head to look at the soup questioningly before shrugging and nodding yes.
Once you had one bowl of soup left you looked down at the dark puddle on your rug. “Ghost, dinner time.” You chirped.
“Leave me to my death.” He moaned back at you.
“Oh you’re hardly dying, here sit up and eat something you’ll feel better.” As you spoke you gently crouched down to him and started repeatedly poking him on the shoulder.
“What do you want you heathen” he muttered as he finally sat up, only to have a bowl of soup forced into his hands.
“Eat.” You said.
“I’m not hungry.”
“I don’t care.”
Reluctantly Ghost pulled up his mask to his nose and began to eat his soup, with everyone fed you looked around to see if anyone was done.
Like you expected, Soap was already done and Gaz was about 2/3 of the way through his. Time for step 2, probably the hardest part: Medicine.
You walked over to your desk and looked through the bag you’d brought in with the tray. You were muttering curses under your breath when you finally found it. A bottle of NyQuil. Not only will it help their colds, it’ll also knock them out so you won’t have to deal with them! Win win! Looking over at Soap you decided he would be your first target.
Loading up a spoon with the liquid you carefully step over to Soap, trying to not set off any of his alarm bells.
“Can I take your bowl?” You ask him, making sure to have a normal tone that doesn’t give away your true intentions.
“Sure, thank ya.” He rasped handing you his bowl. Before he could fully take his hand off the bowl you whisked the bowl away and shoved the spoonful of medicine into his hand.
He stared at the spoon like it was poison, “Stitch, what IS this?” He questioned.
“Medicine.” You quipped back. “It’ll make you feel better. Maybe if you take it you can insist on training again to go infect more people.”
Soap let out a raspy groan, but despite his previous complaint he swallowed the medicine, making a comical face after tasting it, and handed the spoon back to you.
Your next, “victims” as you choose to call them, didn’t put up much of a fight.
Gaz didn’t complain once he realized you weren’t leaving him alone until he took it, and Price took it without a word. Overall, a pretty positive experience. Your next challenger however would be much more difficult.
You eye up Ghost, and decide at this point attempting to be stealthy is pointless, he’s already seen you carry out your plan, and thus you approach him with your ammo loaded spoon fearlessly.
“No.” He groans, voice muffled from how he’s laying face first in your rug.
“Ghost, it’ll make you feel better.” You try, but the mountain man simply acts as if he didn’t hear you. You start repeatedly nudging him with your foot, over and over and over again until finally he picks his head up to look at you.
You can’t see much of him because of the mask, but from what you can see his eyes are much more puffy and red than normal, and anyone could notice the subtle rasp to his voice that’s not normally there.
“You need to take the medicine.” You spoke calmly, like you were talking to a cranky toddler. “It’ll make you feel better. Plus everyone else already took theirs.”
“Well they’re weak.” He groaned, and yet he still snatched the spoon from you, shoved the medicine in his mouth, and then threw it back at you.
“Dramatic much.” You whispered to yourself, getting up to put everything away.
If there’s one thing you got from this experience it’s this:
You work with literal children.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1st
You felt like shit.
Not that you plan on letting that fact be known.
You’ve been attempting to put on some blush and concealer for the last 30 minutes in an attempt to make yourself look more alive. Your only responsibility today is a meeting to discuss your next mission so while it’s technically against dress code you don’t think anyone will notice, or if they do notice you doubt they will care.
Your body however seems to be stubbornly rebelling against your master plan to seem healthy. Your attempts to stand at your desk and put on makeup keep being thwarted as your head pounds any time you stand up and your vision blurs.
Despite your bodies valiant attempts to incapacitate you, you did manage to get your makeup on, put your clothes on, and get out the door.
Once you hobbled your way into the meeting room you saw that everyone was already there, as you took much longer than expected getting ready, which led to you being late.
“Damn Stitch you look… rough.” Gaz commented with a wince.
“Shut it.” You muttered, your voice already half gone.
When you woke up this morning you knew you were in for a hell of a week. You throat hurt like hell, and your voice was nearly gone. You kept coughing and sneezing and your head hurt horribly. All the same symptoms of what your boys had.
Despite your best efforts to get them out they had ended up staying for nearly a week. Soap left after about 2 days of rest, as he had it before the chaos started, but even with their ring leader gone the rest stayed put, with little signs of recovery. Due to this, your constant cleaning in between bouts of caring for them was futile, and 2 days after they recovered, it seems the inevitable happened. You caught it.
You sat with a thud in your normal seat next to Gaz, nodding at Price. “Sorry I’m late sir.” You grunted, barely able to get the words out.
“Are you feelin’ alright?” He asked, eyes narrowed at you suspiciously.
“Never better.” You lied.
Price was still eyeing you with suspicion, but he turned to begin the meeting anyway.
Nothing much of note happened during the meeting, except the fact that Gaz kept giving you looks of increasing concern, and every time you let out a muffled cough Ghost gave you a death stare. Soap looked at you more than Price for the whole meeting, despite him getting told off numerous times.
At the end of the meeting you moved to get up to retreat to your room, but as soon as you rose your head started spinning aggressively, the world blurred into one large mass of color, and then black.
~
You woke up with a start. Sitting up and immediately backing into the nearest corner you assessed your surroundings.
You were in your room, and the lack of light coming through the window let you know it was night. You must have slept a while as it was still morning when your meeting ended. Upon feeling a weight tighten on your waist you looked down and felt your cheeks grow warm.
Gaz was curled up right next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist. He was sleeping peacefully next to you, his body curled slightly. You thought it safe to assume he was curled around you until you shot up.
Looking around the room you saw the rest of your boys spread around. Ghost was lying peacefully on your rug (honestly you found his obsession with it a little concerning), with Soap half on top of him. Price was laying on your couch with his god-awful hat on his face, presumably to block out the nonexistent light.
Your thoughts were interrupted by a bout of violent coughing. Your lungs felt like stress balls as they were squeezed under the muscles of your chest, and in one violent motion you swung yourself out of bed and rushed towards the bathroom.
As you emptied your stomach contents into the toilet bowl you felt someone wipe away the sweat on your forehead and crouch down next to you.
“That’s it, get it all out.” You heard Soap mumble next to you.
As your stomach finished emptying itself and you spat into the toilet into an attempt to get the taste out of your mouth Soap gently leaned over to wipe your mouth for you.
You sat back on your haunches with your eyes closed, breathing heavily. You creaked your eyes when you heard multiple pairs of footsteps quickly approaching the door.
Ghost stood directly behind Soap, looking at you with poorly masked concern. Next to him, with a death grip on his elbow, was Gaz, who was not even trying to mask his concern at your state. Behind both of them peered Price, and while he displayed a glare on his face, you knew him well enough to know that was his way of showing concern.
“Respectfully Stitch, what the fuck?” Soap gently said next to you.
Instead of actually responding like all of your years of training and experience are screaming at you to do, your emotions take over and you start violently sobbing.
You feel miserable. You head feels like it’s stuffed full of cotton, your throat is on fire, all your limbs feel weighed down with lead, you can’t even stay awake long enough to walk to your own room and now your emotional state is such shit your violently crying in front of all of your boys.
The first one to react is Soap, who instantly tightly pulls you into a hug. The next is Gaz, who rushed over to tackle you- gently! In a hug. Price awkwardly walked over to sling an arm around you as well, and Soap turned around to grab Ghost by his ankle and drag him in.
“I-I’m sorry.” You gasped out between sobs.
In response to your statement Soap and Gaz’s arms tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer.
Finally, Price spoke. “Alright crowding em’ isn’t gonna help anything. Soap make sure they brush their teeth then get them the fuck to bed. Ghost, grab the medicine they gave us and anything else that might help. Gaz make sure they have water and a Gatorade on their nightstand. I’m gonna run to medical and get them some anti-nausea medication.”
Hearing that your boys all scurried off to follow orders.
Soap carefully raised you up, and made sure you had steadied yourself against the counter before releasing you. He grabbed your toothbrush for you and put a generous amount of toothpaste on it. After he handed it to you and made sure you were good he started busying himself with anything he thought needed a bit of tidying around your bathroom. Which was apparently a lot.
As he worked he spoke lowly, “Gave us all quite a fright there. Thought you were hurt for a moment and rushed ya to the med bay. They told us you were just ill and had us bring ya to your room.”
You spat out your toothpaste and muttered between sniffles, “sorry.”
As you cleaned off your toothbrush and your mouth Soap approached you and pulled you in tight. “I know we annoy the hell out of you with our recklessness, but I don’t know what I would do without ya. You’re the glue that holds us all together, without ya’ we all would be dead 10 times over.”
As Soaps little speech ended someone cleared their throat behind you, prompting you to turn around.
There stood Gaz, leaning against the doorframe. “He’s right y’know.” He said softly, slowly approaching you. “We would fall apart without you. And if keeping you in good shape means tending to you while your vulnerable like you do for us so well, then we will do it happily.”
“Gaz, you all gonna make me cry again.” You sniffled, rubbing harshly at your eyes.
His eyes grew wide at that and quickly pulled you into another hug, “Please no.”
“Alright, alright. We need to get ‘em to bed. Let em’ rest and what not.” Soap said gently pulling you from Gaz.
“Right right.” And with that Gaz gently took your hand leading you towards your bed. Soap followed closely behind, keeping a hand on your shoulder the whole time, like he was scared you would fall over again (not that you can blame him).
As they settled you in Price came in through the door, carrying a bucket and a small pill in his other hand.
“Alright, this bucket is incase you get sick again.” He said, setting it down next to your nightstand. “And this pill is for your nausea.”
He handed you the pill and the glass of water Gaz had gotten for you earlier. As you took the pill Ghost finally walked over with the medicine he has taken way to long to find.
“Alright here ya go.” Ghost said, attempting to hand you the spoon once you took the pill.
You however, were apparently not sick enough to not cause problems on purpose as you leaned comically far away from the spoon.
When Ghost gave you a pointed look you simply shrugged and said “Revenge bitch.” Before grabbing the spoon and taking the medicine.
“Alright I think that’s everything.” Price started, “We’ll leave you alone now and let you rest. Come on boys.”
As they moved to leave something came over you, making you call out to them, “Wait, uh please wait. Can… can you all stay? Please?” As you spoke you curled up further into your blankets, attempting to hide yourself in them.
Soap was the first to react to your question. “Aww sure Stichey, of course we’ll stay!” He smirked, practically prancing over to you to playfully ruffle your hair.
You scoffed, already regretting your decision, and rolled over to face the wall muttering, “forget it.”
“No no no.” Gaz said, quickly walking over to you, making sure to give Soap a good smack on the back of his head on the way. “If you want us to stay we can stay. It’s the least we can do. Right?” At that last word he shot a pointed glare towards the other members of the 141st, who all made varying gestures of agreement.
With that figured out your boys all settled in. Gaz practically latched onto you, pulling you to his chest and tucking your head under his chin. Soap, feeling extremely left out, decided to snuggled into your back, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling at the back of your neck. Soap waved Ghost over and with a sigh he slid his legs under everyone else’s and leaned half against Soap, half against the wall.
“Well looks like I can’t fit- what a shame,” Price began, only to have the back of his shirt grabbed by Gaz who proceeded to practically throw him over everyone onto Ghost, who promptly threw him off. He eventually settled in next to Ghost, half leaning on him, his legs fully intertwined with everyone else’s.
Once everyone was settled you felt incredibly comfortable. Your boys were all around you, and while yes, you still felt like shit, their heat and comfort more than made up for it.
The most important thing you got from this experience?
Your boys may be annoying sometimes, but there is nothing they wouldn’t do for you.
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tightjeansjavi · 11 months
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common tongue of your loving me
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A/N: so, I first just wanted to say that I am not responsible for the content that you choose to engage with. This is a very dark fic with triggering themes that may be disturbing for some readers. This is dead dove do not eat. Please heed the warnings with caution. I understand that this won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but for my first truly dark fic, I feel pretty good about it. It’s taken months of personal healing for me to become comfortable with writing/engaging with these kinds of fics. That being said, it is important to remember that SA survivors often use dark fic to cope from their own traumatic experiences, but also, dark fics can be enjoyed by anyone and no explanation for enjoying them is needed! Reading and writing dark fic does not mean that you condone this type of behavior. Please be kind.
~word count: 9.1k~
Summary: Joel finds you wandering through his territory and decides that he’ll take you in to be his little lamb. You don’t go with him so willingly.
pairing | raider!Joel x f!reader
Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!
Dubcon/noncon, the lines are blurred regarding to what the reader consents too, Joel is sick in the head, coercion, manipulation from both Joel and the reader, Stockholm syndrome vibes, he can kill easily you if he wanted to but he won’t, dom/sub, dark! Joel, feral! Joel, raider! Joel, rough unprotected sex, possession, degradation, age gap: Joel is 40 the reader is early 30’s, power imbalance, fear tactics, mind games, praise kink, pet names: little lamb and sir, rough unprotected piv, choking/breath play, knife kink, blood kink, voyeurism, hand job, mutual masturbation, cock warming, oral (male and female receiving) cum play, mutilation of a body part (not done to the reader) misogyny from Joel’s men, implied rape as threat/coercion, Joel is not a morally good person, touch deprivation, humiliation, graphic depictions of violence, submission on the means of survival, foul language, +18 minors dni!
main masterlist masterlist
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The Cordyceps Outbreak changed you in a plethora of ways. Survivor turned cold-blooded murderer; not of your own doing. Desperate times call for desperate measures after all. Your saving grace happened to be a man. Brooding in strength, a quick tongue, and an even quicker aim. Calculated movements built up over years of tireless days and nights enduring whatever hell-scape the world had to offer. Grit, stubbornness, chapped lips, aliquine nose, paired with a wicked grin.
“Y’lost?” Gruff, gravelly, never ending pit of deepness. Joel Miller was crouched down between what you believed was an inconspicuous hiding space. You caught wind days out that a group of raiders had been silently stalking you. You were alone, with a limited supply of weapons in your reach.
“No.” Your voice trembled as you clutched your precious pocket knife to your chest.
“That so? What’re you doin’ hidin’ back there?” His head cocked curiously as his boot scraped along the tattered floor of the long since abandoned gas station.
“None of your goddamn business.” You hissed, teeth gritted as your eyes squeezed shut.
“Cute.” He mused. “Take it that you’re alone then? Y’got anythin’ on ya?”
“Are you going to kill me, or not? Cause if so, just get on with us for both our sakes.” You nearly pleaded.
He tsked, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Ain’t gonna do that. Woulda dragged you outta there myself if that was the case. Besides, I enjoy it more when they run.” He spoke so casually you could feel your blood quickly turn to ice from his tone alone.
“What the hell do you want then? I have nothing to offer. Just some measly scraps, and a dull pocket knife.”
I’m gonna die. That’s it. It’s all over. All that fighting for fucking nothing.
“Ain’t that a shame.” You could feel the smirk rise on his face as bile tried to force its way up your throat. “You’re in luck, my dear. Feelin’ a bit generous. Been lookin’ for a pet. Someone to keep my bed warm at night. Clean my gun. Be at my side. The offer stands, but expires in approximately..” He looked around as if there was a working clock in sight, “one minute.”
“Wait, wait! Are you saying you want me to be your slave?! Fuck no! I’d–”
“Temper, I see. My slave? Not at all, darlin.’ You’ve got it all wrong. Ain’t gonna force ya, although, you were the one to stupidly go waltzing into raider territory. More specifically, my territory. So, you either swallow that fuckin’ tongue of yours and accept your fate, or i’ll let my men have their way with ya. N’trust me, doll. They’ll tear you apart the second they get their hands on you.”
“You sick fuck! I’m not going anywhere with you!” You pushed your body further between the two aisle shelves that had collapsed over.
“Ten.”
“You’re insane!”
“Nine.”
“Eight.” He droned with mock enthusiasm.
“C’mon, you ain’t got anywhere else to go. I won’t touch you unless you want me to. Don’t make this fuckin’ harder for yourself than it needs to be. My patience is runnin’ thin, and the clock is tickin’ away, little lamb.”
“I am not your little lamb, you fuckin’ monster!”
His eyes rolled in pure annoyance as you listened intently to the unmistakable clicking sound of his gun cocking.
“Seven.”
“Six.”
What other choice did you really have? Allow yourself to be violated, and god knows what else by this man’s men, or accept your fate and become his ‘pet.’ Just the thought alone sent a wave of nausea knocking through your system.
“Wait, wait! Please!” You nearly begged as you pulled yourself free from your hiding spot. You dropped your pocket knife to the floor with a clink as you held your hands above your head.
His smirk was nothing short of menacing as he took immediate notice to the terrified glassy look in your eyes.
“Don’t be frightened, little lamb.” He crooned
“You’re safe, and no harm will be done to you. However, my men will be deeply disappointed to hear that I have decided to take you as my own.”
God, this man was sick, but there was no turning back now. No escape route. No plan. No hope. Maybe he was just bluffing. Maybe his plan was to kill you when you’d least expect it. Maybe this was all just a game of cat and mouse for him; you being the helpless little mouse.
“You swear that you’re not going to touch me?” You eyed his outstretched hand warily.
“My darlin’ little lamb, you have my word. Although, I will have to pat you down. Y’know, to make sure you ain’t have anythin’ on ya. Oh, and don’t think I'm playin’ stupid either. Cus’ if you try’n kill me? I’ll make you wish that you had never been born. You have no idea what I am capable of, and my token of kindness only can stretch so far. Jus’ be good, and I won’t have to send a pretty thing like you six feet under. Got it?” His tone was sharp and straight to the point as his brow raised in your direction. You couldn’t even begin to fathom what this man was capable of.
You reluctantly took his hand as he hoisted you up from the grime infested floor. Not a second later did he have your back pinned securely against his broad chest as he held the sharp tip of your knife expertly against your jugular. All he would have to do was apply a tad bit of pressure in order to make a fatal incision. You could feel his lips ghosting against the shell of your ear. His voice dropped an octave as he whispered, “Oh, and if you even think about tryn’ to run from me? I will hunt you down. Do I make myself crystal fuckin’ clear, little lamb?”
You struggled considerably in his constricting grip. A hiss slipped past your lips when the tip of the blade pricked your skin, blood beaded along the surface before slowly trickling down the column of your throat. “Fuck you, asshole.” You nearly whimpered when the blunt ends of his fingernails dug fiercely into your hips. He was unmoving like a mountain, or a slab of concrete. (whichever you prefer)
“That ain’t my name, little lamb.” He tuts before dipping his head down along the clavicle of your neck. His curls gently tickle your chin before you feel his hot tongue poke out and lick up the droplets of blood from your skin. You involuntarily inhaled a harsh breath as his lips harshly sucked on the entry wound. You heard a tiny grunt rumble up his chest before he uttered, tone thick and raspy, “It’s Joel.”
Joel fucking Miller.
His teeth nipped and scraped at your torn skin as his grip around you tightened. “Silly, silly, little lamb. You’ve gone and nicked yourself. Be good, and I’ll let you breathe.”
“Please, please let go of me, Joel. Please. You’re hurting me.” Your voice came out strained as you ultimately gave up on struggling in his steel-like grasp.
“There ya go. That’s a good little lamb.” He cooed as he loosened his grip around you. He had forgotten all about needing to pat you down as he slowly lowered your knife from its present position on your neck. He tucked it away in his own backpack for safe keeping. You were dumb to think that he’d let you have it back.
“Now that we’ve gotten the painfully hard stuff outta the way, y’can relax. So stiff.” He tsked as he nudged you forward. “You’ll be pleased to hear that I’m not a complete barbarian. Got a cabin with workin’ plumbing! Imagine that.” He chuckled amusedly.
You were far from amused as you crossed your arms over your chest protectively as he nudged you forward. Your feet worked on autopilot as his domineering presence was close behind you. “That’s nice, Joel. I could frankly fucking care less where you live.” You snapped in a sharp quick tone.
“Oh? Well, perhaps you’d rather fuckin’ sleep outside, chained to a tree like a goddamn dog.” he snapped back, quicker than you had expected.
“Yeah?” You scoffed. “Well, maybe I would much rather be chained to a fucking tree than breathe the same disgusting air as you.” So much for not pushing this man's buttons.
He laughed, and you could feel his hot breath tickling the hair along the back of your neck.
“As tempting as that sounds, how am I supposed to protect you if you’re chained to a tree?” He was smirking rather sadistically. You couldn’t see his face, but you just knew he was grinning through his teeth. “Besides, wouldn’t you much rather sleep in a warm, cozy bed, little lamb? I bet it’s been awhile since you’ve experienced that kinda comfort, hmm?” He knew he was toying with you and it was becoming increasingly difficult to not stand your ground.
“I don’t need your protection. I don’t want anything to do with it, and for the love of God, would you stop fucking calling me little lamb?”
“Y’know, the more you fight this, the worse it’s going to be. You oughta be thankin’ me. Y’know why? I could fuckin’ take you right here, right now. I can shove you to the ground and have my way with you, little lamb. You can scream and cry all you want, but there’s not a goddamn thing you could do to stop me. You’re defenseless, and apparently missing quite a few marbles in that brain of yours. I suggest you shut the fuck up, and keep movin.’” In the midst of your quarrel, he had silently removed his gun from the holster around his hips, and you could feel the cool metal of the barrel pressing into the back of your neck.
You froze purely out of fear as your mouth went dry. No words fell from your once confident tongue as he nudged you forward once more.
“Yeah, that’s what I fuckin’ thought.” He hissed.
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You were in fact shocked to see that Joel and his men didn’t live in filth and grime like you expected. Even moreso, it didn’t appear that they had stowed away any prisoners in their camp. This newfound knowledge was both comforting, and unsettling. Joel’s cabin was the furthest from the rest of the group. Tucked away in a grouping of evergreens. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d think he was just some lone survivor too. You surveyed the surrounding area silently as he unlocked the front door. You could run..but how far would you manage to get? He’d hunt you down no doubt. Your body was already running off pure adrenaline. It had been weeks since you had a proper meal.
“Home sweet home.” He chimed as he gave you a rough jolt forward. Your legs nearly buckled from the surprised movement as you stumbled inside. The heavy wooden door swung shut as he locked it behind him.
“I imagine you must be starvin’ huh?”
“Nope.”
He rolled his eyes as he slung his backpack along one of the hooks on the wall. “Uh-huh. You ain’t all that of a liar, little lamb. Look, if I were in your situation, i’d suck it the fuck up and be grateful for my generous hospitality. Y’wanna starve? Be my fuckin’ guest, but don’t say I didn’t try to feed ya.” He huffed as he strode past you, shoulder brushing yours roughly as he disappeared into the kitchen.
You stood there dumbly in the middle of the entryway as you subconsciously scratched at your arm. “Hey..uh, Joel?” You sounded timid and unsure of yourself but given the present circumstances, that was to be expected.
His head peeked around the corner as he made eye contact with you. “Yes, little lamb?”
Can he fucking quit it with that nickname already?
“So, I was wondering if it was possible for me to uh–shower? I’ve been traveling for weeks and I just figured you probably wouldn’t want me stinking up your bed? Just want to make sure I'm being a good pet for you.” You nearly gagged from your compliant words, but if you played your cards right, maybe you’d make it out of this alive.
His slow growing smirk was a tell-tale sign that he was buying your faux submission. Ruthless or not, he was still a man at the end of the day.
“Sure. S’not a problem at all. Y’need help findin’ your way? Jus’ down the hall n’to the left. I’ll leave some clothes out for ya as well. Think you’ve worn those things to ruin.” He casually gestured to your tattered clothing.
“Yeah, well..beggars can’t be choosers now can they?”
“No, they can’t.” He agreed.
You stared at one another a moment longer before you padded off down the hall. You could feel his eyes burning into the back of your head until you turned the corner. You paused momentarily to listen for his footsteps. Only when you were convinced he didn’t follow you, did you finally release a shaky breath. Just be good, and you’ll get out of this one way or another.
Joel’s bathroom was insipid in decor, but that came as to no surprise. It’s not like he had any reason to embellish the space with flowers or any other domestic shit. At least the towels looked fairly clean, and the shower head looked durable. You could have shed tears of joy when you turned the faucet handle and a steady stream flowed through the shower head. The water had a slightly oxidized odor from the well, but it wasn’t ice cold; more like room temperature. You wasted no time to shred your thin layers of clothing and discard them to the cool tile beneath your feet. Your nipples pebbled and grew taught under the cooling stream of water along your skin. You feel the filth and grime slowly wash away and stain the water a murky brown color from the debris. You were pleasantly surprised to find a bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo that was undoubtedly expired, but it would suffice.
The towel you wrapped around your body was a bit coarse and itchy from being utilized so many times. You kept your hand firmly wrapped around the front of the towel to prevent it from slipping down your still damp body. As you reached for the door handle you found shortly after that there was something blocking your ability to open it all the way. You took a deep breath as you prepared yourself for the inevitable..clothes? There just outside of the door, folded nicely in a pile, was a shirt and pants waiting for you.
Joel was busy putzing around the kitchen as he prepared a well-deserved meal for the two of you. He was already convinced that you were warming up to him (finally). Or, perhaps you were just too exhausted to put up a solid fight. Either way, he was going to continue to use his generous hospitality to his advantage. Match point.
“Well, don’t you clean up nice.” He mused from where he was standing as you appeared from down the hall.
“Shower was pretty decent.” You mumbled in response.
“Go on and make yourself at home.” He gestured to the small kitchen table with two handcrafted wooden chairs. “Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes.”
“I already told you, I'm not hungry.”
“Still playin’ the stubborn game, are we? What happened to the whole ‘I want to be a good pet for you, Joel?’” he dropped the kitchen knife he was presently holding onto the countertop as he made air quotes with his fingers.
“Why the hell would you think for a second that I'm going to trust you all of a sudden? I don’t want shit to do with your food.”
“Mmm. I see. S’you jus’ thought oh, i’ll just use his shower and shit will be all peachy keen? Sit your fuckin’ ass down at that table right now.” He wasn’t asking, he was demanding.
“Oh, gee. You’re too kind! Giving me somewhere to finally rest my fucking feet.” You muttered sarcastically under your breath as you plopped down onto the chair finally.
Seconds later a plate was placed down in front of you. The smell was absolutely mouthwatering. Seared venison, potatoes, gravy and bread. This was a real hearty meal that you could only dream of having. It reminded you of Sunday dinner’s back at your parents when you were struggling to pay your rent off every month. You’d have leftovers for days thanks to them.
You suspiciously eyed your captor as he took the seat across from you and began to indulge in the meal he had prepared. You remained skeptical as your arms crossed over your chest defiantly.
“It ain’t poisoned if that’s what you’re thinkin.’ Why the hell would I be eating poisoned food? Besides, how are you supposed to keep my bed warm if you’re fuckin’ dead, little lamb?” He grumbled as he pointed his fork in your direction.
“I don’t know. Maybe a sick fuck like you is into that sorta thing. You don’t actually expect me to believe that you have a moral compass, do you?”
“Oh, you’re right on the head with that one. Just below your feet I have bodies stashed for safekeeping. Oh, and some are buried out back in the woods. You’ll find bones scattered about the property.” he stated nonchalantly as he leaned over the table with his eyes locked on yours. “Y’know what I love most? I love it when they scream and beg for their pathetic little lives to be spared. They all try to escape, but they never get very far. I give them all a fair head start jus’ to give them that false hope that they’re going to make it out of this alive.” He stabbed a piece of venison with his fork before popping it into his mouth.
Your blood curdled like rotten milk as you went to push your chair back. You were startled from the sound of his knife being embedded into the wood with a harsh thud. “Don’t you even fuckin’ think about it.” He hissed.
“Are you fucking serious?! You have dead bodies under the fucking floorboards?! So, this was your plan all along?! Make me play house with you till you get bored and decide to butcher me?!”
“No.” he deadpanned. “I was not bein’ serious. But, since you think i’m some sick fuckin’ monster that stashes women away to murder them, I decided to play into your little scenario. Now, fuckin’ eat your goddamn food. Or by God I will fucking pin you down and shove it down your throat.”
You truly could not tell if he was bluffing or not, but by the darkened appearance of his pupils, your brain was literally screaming at you to just pick the fucking fork up and eat. So, that’s exactly what you did. Fuck, this was the best thing you tasted in a long time.
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When the sun began to set and cast a soft orange glow through the cabin windows, your nerves were on high alert when you faced the realization that you’d have to sleep in the same bed as this man. Your plate was nearly licked clean as he removed it from in front of you. He could sense your unease from a mile away. It was as if he could smell the fear leaking from your pores.
“Go on and get some rest, little lamb. I’ll be there in a few. Oh, and by the way, I prefer to sleep naked. I hope that doesn’t pose a problem for you.” He shot a flirty wink in your direction before you were immediately pushing your chair back.
Fucking peachy.
It wasn’t difficult to find his bedroom as it was the only other room in the mid size cabin. You would have much rather have slept on the uncomfortable hardwood floor than to share a bed with him. However, based on how he acted at the dinner table..you really didn’t want to stretch your luck, if you’d even call it that, any further.
The semi-comfortable mattress brought instant relief to your aching back and shoulders. A comfort short lived as you listened attentively to the faint footsteps approaching the door. Joel was surprisingly quiet as he slipped into the room like a shadow in the night. He barely acknowledged your presence as he shuffled to the unoccupied side of the bed. The mattress creaked beneath his weight as he sank down along it.
You laid there unmoving, quiet like a mouse as your eyes squeezed shut from the familiar shrill sound of the metal clasp of his belt clinking. His jeans hit the floor with a soft thud as a silent tear slowly rolled down your cheek. He yanked his shirt over his head in one swift movement before he kicked his boxers down his ankles. You heard him let out a faint sigh as he scrubbed his hand down his patchy beard. You waited for the moment that he would pounce..but it never came as he slowly swung his legs onto the mattress with a soft grunt as he settled back into the pillows. His cock hung heavy between his thighs as he shifted positions ever so slightly. “G’night, little lamb. Sleep tight.” He crooned softly.
Wait..that’s it? No no. What the hell was going on? Didn’t he say he would–
“Goodnight, Joel.” You whispered as you rolled over so your back was facing him. You were on the very edge of the mattress, as far away as you possibly could be from him.
Joel was more than willing to play the long game with you. He was in no rush, and toying with your already fragile mind was part of the fun. He did swear that he wouldn’t touch you without your consent, but he never said anything about not touching himself. He was, after all, a lonely man in some capacity. Perhaps that’s why he had no shame to slowly wrap his fist around the base of his cock while you were laying just a few feet away. He trapped his lower lip between his teeth as he dragged his thumb across the ruddy head, collecting a bead of precum that had weeped from the narrow slit. He twisted his hand slowly as a grunt bubbled up his throat. He pulled his hand back only to filthily spit on it in order to create some lubrication. His head tilted back against the pillows as his mind ran rampant through his filthy desires. “Fuck, that’s it little, lamb.” He hissed between his teeth, digging his heels into the mattress as his cock grew hard and swollen in his grasp.
You could vaguely hear the rustling of the sheets through your light slumber. You thought maybe you were experiencing some vivid dream when you detected Joel’s soft grunt and the unmistakable sound of him spitting into his hand. It felt like your body was betraying you and riding off into the deep end as your thighs subconsciously clenched together. His sounds of gratification only seemed to spur your now awake body to relieve itself in some capacity as your hand slowly snaked down between your thighs. It had been longer than you could remember since you last shared a bed with someone. Perhaps this was all based purely on animalistic instincts as your fingers dipped beneath your panties. Your clit was throbbing for attention as your fingertips skated across it. You bit down on the inside of your cheek hard to suppress a whimper from slipping out, but it was audible enough for Joel to hear it. Once you started, there was no going back as your fingers worked your clit in slow circular motions.
Joel was shocked to say the least. So much so, that his hand had stilled around his cock as he listened to your pathetic little whimpers that you were desperately trying to suppress. You being so unpredictable to him was an absolute turn on. He couldn’t believe that his dirty little lamb was shamelessly playing with herself. Maybe you and him weren’t so different after all. His cock twitched against his stomach as he imagined just how tight your little pussy would hug him, and that’s all it took for him to shred his remaining morale. “What’re you doin’ over there, little lamb?” He whispered through the pale moonlight that casted shadows across the bed frame.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
You scrambled to remove your hand from between your thighs as a sense of embarrassment and dread washed over you. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks from the excitement and adrenaline rush of being caught.
“Don’t stop on my account, dirty little lamb. You sounded so desperate to come. Why deprive yourself of that pleasure?” He hummed through his teeth as he gave the base of his cock a firm relieving squeeze. “Or are you seekin’ some assistance? I’d be happy to help..can’t leave your pussy hanging on the edge for that long, little lamb. She deserves better treatment than that.” He tsked disapprovingly.
it was as if a lightbulb had suddenly flashed in your brain. Yes, use this to your advantage. This is what he wants, right? Give it to him. Make him think that you’re submissive. Fuck him stupid and leave when he’s sleeping. Play his game better than he is.
“It hurts.” You pouted as tears of frustration began to slowly drip down the corners of your eyes. You did have to sell the part after all.
“Oh, baby. Don’t cry. I know it hurts..bet it’s been so long since your cunt has been properly taken care of, hmm? When’s the last time she’s been stretched out by a cock?” He asked softly as you felt the mattress dip down from him slowly roll over onto his elbow so he was facing you.
“It’s been too long, sir. I can’t even remember the last time I was properly filled up by a cock. I miss that feeling so much. Will you help me, please? I want you to take care of me, Joel.” You nearly moaned out a plea as your thighs rubbed together beneath the sheets.
Joel’s rough exterior had seemingly melted into a puddle of liquid as you nearly begged him. Who was he to say no to a person in need? Here you were, so willing, so compliant, so submissive, and right where he wanted you to be. “Oh, my poor little lamb. It’s been that long for you? Perhaps I’ll just have to remind your cunt just how good it feels to be properly filled up by a cock, hmm? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Please, Joel. Please remind me how good it feels to be filled up by a cock. I want you to stretch me out..I want to feel you everywhere..think you can handle that, sir?” You were already reaching for his hand as he scooted closer to where your body was laying. You guided his hand between your thighs so he could feel just how wet you were for him. “Please, can’t you feel how wet I am? Please make me feel good, sir.”
His eyes nearly rolled back into his skull from your desperation and neediness as his fingers lightly traced the seam of your panties where he could feel the wetness pooling through the fabric. “I’ll take real good care of you, little lamb. You’re in good hands. We’ll have to take these off so I can get a good look at ya. Bet she’s so fuckin’ pretty. Dyin’ to have a peek.”
He’s a goner.
She’s a goner.
“Take them off, please.” You whimpered as his hands grasped the hem of your panties and slowly pulled them down your thighs. His pupils dilated from the sight of the fabric sticking to your puffy wet pussy. His mouth watered from the sight alone as he discarded your ruined panties to the floor. You felt the warm embrace of his hand wrap around the inside of your thigh as he coaxed it across his lap so he could spread you nice and wide. “Oh, fuck. Look at how swollen she is. Must hurt so much.” He pouted with furrowed brows. “Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy. I cannot wait to ruin her, my little lamb.” At this angle you were entirely exposed to his greedy eyes as you watched his hand travel southward once more. He used his middle and forefinger to spread your folds open so he could get a better view of your swollen little clit. He appeared to be mesmerized as your tight wet little hole involuntary clenched inwards.
Your moans were anything but fake as his thumb slowly worked your clit into tight circles. He wasn’t lying about the fact that you certainly were in good hands. You were wet enough as it is, but he felt that extra lubrication couldn’t hurt as he spat a glob of saliva between his fingers and rubbed it in. He soon had two fingers knuckle deep inside of you as he slowly curled them inwards. “Gotta get you nice and relaxed for me, baby. I don’t wanna hurt ya, and you’re being such a good little lamb for me. I think I’ll just have to reward you for that. How does that sound?” His eyes drifted upwards so he could see your face twist with pleasure as your toes curled inwards.
“Oh, sir.” You moaned wantonly. “That feels so fucking good. Please don’t stop. I promise I’ll keep being your good little lamb. Can you show me your cock, Joel? I want to see it. I bet it’s so big..what if it doesn’t fit?”
He shifted his hips upwards so you could get a good look at his dick. He watched your eyes widen the slightest at the sight of him. Heavy set balls, dark coarse hair, and by far the thickest cock you had ever feasted your eyes upon. “Shh, we’ll make it fit. It’ll feel so fuckin’ good once I’m stretching you out, little lamb. You just gotta trust me. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you trust me?”
“Mhmm. I can trust you, sir. I know you’ll take extra good care of me. Please don’t make me wait much longer..please be good to me.”
He pressed a reassuring kiss to your temple as he felt the walls of your pussy clench down around his thick digits. The squelching sound sent blood quickly flowing southwards as his cock twitched against his thigh. As soon as he slipped his fingers out of you, he knelt between your thighs with one hand wrapped firmly around the base of his cock as he twisted his wrist a couple times. His freehand was wrapped around the underside of your thigh as he brought it around his shoulder with your heel resting along his firm shoulder blade. “Good little lamb. I’m goin’ fill this pretty little pussy up just the way that she deserves, okay? See, I told you that bein’ my pet wasn’t gonna be so bad. I knew you’d warm up to me eventually.” He mumbled under his breath as he slowly dragged his tip between your folds, rutting his hips forward slowly. The tip of his cock bumped against your already sensitive clit with each gentle thrust.
Your brain felt like a scrambled egg that was being mentally toyed and fucked with. This sick man could have easily fucked you like a rag doll into his mattress, and instead he was choosing to take things slow. Why? You couldn’t wrap your head around his reasoning, or if this was truly just another piece to his game, but Jesus fuck, there was no denying that it felt fucking incredible.
Your words came out like slurred jarble as your mouth slowly felt open when you felt him slowly start to sink inside of you, stretching you open, filling you up just like his promise. It felt like his cock was splitting you in two the further he pressed into you. He coaxed you gently when you clawed at his forearms. Shushing you with featherlight kisses to your cheekbones when he had bottomed out. Your leg fell limp around his shoulder when he had slowly pulled his hips back before jutting them forward.
He was fucking you deliciously deep as the matress squeaked from the movement. He was watching your face for any signs of discomfort as you struggled to figure out where he started, and where he ended. Your pussy hugged him tight as it drew him in deeper with each thrust. His hand nearly engulfed your hip as his thumb lightly pressed down along your lower abdomen where he could feel the tip of his cock just barely kissing your cervix. “Can you feel me right there, little lamb? You’re doing so good for me. So fuckin’ good. Tightest little pussy I’ve ever had. She’s huggin’ me so good.” His grunts mixed with your sharp moans as you struggled to not completely throw your plan out the window. In this position it was hard to gain any sense of control; it was time to switch things up.
“Joel, baby.” You mewled softly as your hips rolled forward to meet his thrusts. “I wanna try something that I think you’ll really like..I wanna be on top. You must be so exhausted from dealing with me all day..why don’t you lay back and I’ll do all the work?” You suggested with a harsh breath as he leaned down over you. You could feel the broad weight of his chest pressing down against you as his lips brushed across the shell of your ear, “that’s the best idea you’ve had all goddamn day, little lamb.”
Even after your handsome offering, he wasn’t quite ready to slip out of your warmth just yet. Now that he had a taste, there was no way in hell that he was about to let you go from his grasp. He had consumed you completely to the point where it felt like you were being suffocated by his sheer mass and the way he managed to hit that spongy spot inside of you with every profound intense induced thrust. His wiry patchy beard scraped at the soft skin of your cheek as he drove himself further. “Jus’ gimme a little more time with ya like this. You feel so fuckin’ good around me. Jus’ a little longer.” He stuttered between harsh jagged breaths that fluttered across the shell of your ear. His teeth nipped, scraped at the skin as the musty scent of his sweat melded into yours. Skin on skin: with no point of relief.
When he finally began to slowly slip out of your tight wet walls, it appeared that your body was reluctant to let go of him based on the way your pussy clenched around him tightly like a fist. He chuckled low and deep as he watched a mixture of your release and his own leak out of your tight fucked out hole. It glistened along the apex of your thighs, trailing down your skin, dripping along the once unsoiled comforter.
“My my, little lamb. You’ve gone and made quite the mess of yourself hmm?” He teased as he slowly dragged his pointer finger through the mixture of fluids as if he was creating an erotic painting, and his finger was the steady brush.
Focus. Focus. Focus. Your brain chanted at you relentlessly.
“Hnngh..mhm..i’ve made such a mess of myself, sir. Will you please clean me up?”
He smirked cruelly through the pale moonlight that danced across your skin as he scooted himself back on his knees, his cock brushing against the comforter and creating just enough stimulation for him to be satisfied for the time being. “Well, since you asked so nicely, I suppose I can give you an itty-bitty reward.” He mused as his eyes locked in on your glistening pussy just begging to be kissed. Your lashes fluttered when you felt his hot breath fan your core. Might as well get all the use out of him that you could get.
He pressed open mouth kisses to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Sucking, licking, kissing around where you craved him most. The second those sinful lips latched onto your swollen clit, a carnal need washed over both of you as he devoured you whole. His tongue worked you in languid strokes as he made sure to lick up every last drop. Your orgasm was steadfast approaching as the coil in your stomach tightened. Your thighs clamped firmly around his head like a stubborn shell. If it were any other situation, you’d let him eat you for hours, days even, but you had to stick to your plan.
He wasn’t letting up easily as you used all your strength to push his head from between your thighs. His beard and lips were coated in your slick as he finally released you from his death grip. There was no time to catch your breath as his strong arms were already hosting you into his lap as he lazily rolled over onto his back with a soft grunt.
“Keep bein’ my good little lamb, and you’ll wake up every mornin’ with my head between your thighs.” He nearly purred as his hands anchored themselves around your hips. You could feel the head of his cock notching at your entrance as you slowly sank down against his bulky strong thighs. It took a mere moment for you to snap back into character and keep up with your charades as you wrapped your hand firmly around the base of his cock. “I’m going to take care of you now okay, Joel? You’ve been so good to me. I’m so grateful for your generous hospitality and your cock. I just want you to sit back and relax..can you do that for me, baby?” You held all the control in the palm of your hand as you slowly slid his tip between your slit. Your little noises of appreciation had his head spinning in circles as he squeezed your hips firmly.
“M’gonna keep you forever, just like this. Stuffed full of my cock. Filled to the fuckin’ brim.” He hissed between his teeth as you slowly inched yourself around him till he had filled you to the hilt. “M’so lucky to have a good little lamb like you, baby. My good little cockslut. It ain’t so bad, is it? Mmm..maybe you and I are more alike than you think.” He murmured with a lazy grin etched on his face as he gazed up at you through thick lashes.
“Of course i’ll be your good little lamb forever and ever, sir.” You played along as you slowly rolled your hips forward. “I’ll be so good to you just like you have been to me.” Now you had him right where you wanted him and it was only a matter of time. You affectionately played with his sweat stained curls, licked the musk from his neck as you inhaled his masculine aroma that seeped from his pores. You nipped at his flesh and left little love bites speckled across his skin. You fucked him the best way that you could, spending what was left of your dwindling energy to convince this man that you were submitting to him entirely. Each roll of your hips, and smack of your skin transported him to a new state of pure ecstasy. He didn’t last very long considering he was fairly spent himself. He let out a deep guttural animalistic grunt that ruptured from deep within his chest as he spilled his seed into you. He could feel both yours and his release drip down between where your bodies were connected. He praised in a soft tone, mumbling about how he was going to fall asleep just like this. “Y’stay right there, little lamb. Gonna keep you stuffed full of my cock all night.” He rasped as his lashes fluttered shut.
By all means, sir. Keep me stuffed full of your cock, because come morning, you’ll be waking up to an empty, cold, miserable bed. You fucking idiot.
He dozed off, still buried deep inside of your cunt as you sat there obediently. You listened to the sound of his breathing return to a normal rate as soft snores slipped past his parted lips. Only when you were certain that he wouldn’t awake from his sex induced slumber, did you finally slip off of his lap. You could feel the sticky residue of his come latching onto your thighs as his cock went soft. You gathered up the clothes he had given you as you rushed to dress and get the hell out of there. You were as quiet as a mouse as you crept out of his room. Your eyes zoned in on the rifle hanging along the hook next to the door.
You were so close to freedom you could almost taste it as you unlatched the door and began to slowly push the handle down–
“Where are you runnin’ off to, little lamb?” His tone was low and menacing as you felt the hardness of his chest press against your back. In one swift movement he had pulled the door shut with a heavy slam that rattled your bones to the core. You went to reach for his rifle but he was on you in a flash as he twisted your arms painfully behind your back. He knocked you forward against the wooden door with your cheek pressed firmly into the rough texture of the wood. When you didn’t respond to his original question, he asked again, but a lot less nicer.
“I said, where the fuck do you think you’re runnin’ off to, little lamb? Y’think you can play me for a goddamn fool?!” He bellowed. His harsh words bounced off the walls of the cabin as you struggled in his painful grip. “After I fed you, put clothes on your back and fucked you dumb, you think you can jus’ fuckin’ leave?!”
“Sir, I'm so sorry! You have it all wrong! I—just wanted to get some fresh air! I was going to come right back, I swear!” You took the pleading route in hopes that maybe he’d show you just a smidge of mercy. “I’d never leave you!”
He laughed darkly as he shoved you further into the door, creating little to no space for you to breathe. “Fuckin’ save it. You’re a goddamn filthy liar, little lamb! You were leavin’ me! What a fuckin’ shame too because you were being so so good. Pity, because I was actually thinking of letting you go myself.” He lied straight through his teeth as he forced his knee between your thighs and spread them apart. His hand that wasn’t holding your wrists painfully together wrapped around your middle as he yanked you roughly against his chest. His lips were right at your ear now. “You were being such a good little lamb for me, that I was beginning to feel sorry for taking you away..I was going to let you go first thing in the morning, but you just had to go and fuckin’ ruin it for yourself, huh?” He tsked
Fresh tears began to cascade down your face as you continued to try and break free. Your hope was quickly diminishing like a candle being blown out as he twisted your wrists at an unnatural angle. “PLEASE!” You begged, “I’m so sorry, sir! Please don’t kill me! I–I–can make it up to you, I swear!”
“Kill you? Oh, my dear sweet little lamb, you really haven’t been payin’ attention, have you? I’m not going to kill you. You’re far too pretty to be feasted on by some critters. That simply won’t do.” His hand that was securely wrapped around your middle snaked upwards as he roughly groped your breast through the fabric of your shirt. “Quit your fuckin’ squirming. You ain’t gettin’ yourself outta this one, little lamb.”
“Please, please let me go! I’m–I'm sorry for not being a good pet! I can do better! Please, Joel! You’re hurting me!” You cried out for mercy.
“Now, you’re gonna sit still and be a good little lamb, or I'll feed you to the wolves just outside my door.” He whispered harshly as he dropped his hand from around your breast only to then find the button on your pants before he yanked them down your thighs. Your pussy was sore and overstimulated when he pressed the ruddy head of his cock between your thighs. “Can’t you hear ‘em howlin?’ Bet they’re fistin’ their cocks right now thinkin’ about how your pretty little cunt would hug them so tight. S’only for me, right? This cunt belongs to me. Don’t fuckn’ gimme a reason to share.” He hissed as he harshly thrusted up into you, knocking the air from your lungs as his hand wrapped around your throat.
Your words came out as strangled cries as he continued to ram into you. “Can’tcha hear ‘em now? Beggin’ for this cunt. C’mon, little lamb. Scream for me. Let them know just how good daddy is treatin’ ya. Don’t you fuckin’ hold back.” His thumb and forefinger pressed firmly against your trachea making it harder for oxygen to reach your brain as your body went into distress mode. The more you fought, the tighter he held you. When you could begin to see stars dancing behind your eyelids, and your breath came out in a weak wheezing sound, he finally released you from his death grip.
You buckled over, gasping for air as your knees hit the floor with a sickening thud.
“Don’t you ever try to outsmart me again, little lamb.” He was standing over you like an ominous shadow as choked sobs raked through your body.
“Now, get the fuck back to bed, or i’ll drag you there myself.”
You took his threat seriously as you scrambled to your feet and scurried back to his room.
You never crossed him again, and for good reason. He apologized for his actions the next morning over breakfast. You weren’t very hungry, but forced yourself to eat for your own sake. Now you were his broken and submissive little lamb.
He did keep his promise of keeping you safe from all harm. Once enough trust was instilled, he allowed you to accompany him outside. He taught you all that he knew during those months. You found it hard to not begin to fall for him when he showed you his gentler side. It felt wrong, but right at the same time to love a man who was so cruel. He stripped you of your autonomy, and then stitched it right back together with his own needle and thread. You adapted to his lifestyle as if it was the back of your hand. Accompanying him on raids, torturing helpless individuals for the sheer thrill it felt to hold another person’s life in the palm of your hands.
Maybe you were sicker than he was.
This winter was proving to be unforgiving. Supplies and rations were low, and Joel’s men were growing antsy. Their leader was spending too much time tucked away in his cabin with you, and it was only a matter of time before someone would lash out. You were still fast asleep tucked away cozily in Joel’s warm bed while he called a meeting with the rest of the group.
“I say we head west. There ain’t nothin’ left here for us.” One of his men stated, and heads began to slowly nod in agreement.
“West? Why the hell would we go and do that? We got a decent territory here, and I'm this close to gettin’ us into the QZ. Jus’ have to twist a few more fingers to get us there. This ain’t the worst winter we’ve had. Don’t go and act like a bunch of fuckin’ pussies just because you’re afraid that your dicks are gonna freeze off.” He snapped.
“Easy enough for you to say, Miller. You’re the one who’s got a cockslut keepin’ you warm on the cold nights. What about the rest of us, huh? Can’t be bothered to share your prize?”
Joel could feel his blood begin to simmer as he slowly turned his head to the side. His eyes were narrowed into slits as his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “What the fuck did you jus’ call her?” His tone was eerily calm as he did his best to keep his temper at bay. You were off limits; end of story.
“You heard me. Bet that cockslut of yours was the one who suggested we stay here. That’s why it ain’t good to keep women around for long. They talk and talk and think that they have the answer for everything! Well, you know what I gotta say to that? Keep ‘em around to keep your cock warm and toss ‘em when they grow smart. That’s all they’re good for anyway. Jus’ a tight wet hole to fuck.”
The prominent veins in Joel’s neck bulged to the surface of his neck. His skin was so hot that the swirling flurries that landed on him immediately melted. His face grew red with rage. You were far more than just a hole to fuck. You were his little lamb, and god help any motherfuckers that dare disrespect his little lamb.
“I should fuckin’ carve your tongue out for that. She is not my cockslut.” If Joel’s men were smart, they’d back off while they still had the chance, but men will be men after all.
“Oh, please! Is her pussy really all that? Look at how soft you’ve gone, Miller! I say you dispose of her while you still have the chance. Oh, but before you do that, bring her out for a spin. We’ve been dyin’ to see what her cunt is all about.”
It was as if something inside of Joel had suddenly snapped and he found his hands constricted around the man’s neck. Joel had him pinned to the snow covered ground as the man thrashed around violently. No one dared to try and stop their leader until they heard the crunching of snow beneath boots as your voice drifted through the brewing blizzard like a rumbling echo
Joel’s head snapped in the direction of your voice as he loosened his grip around the man’s neck slightly. “Baby, what the fuck are you doin’ out here? It’s freezing! Get back inside–”
You were quick to cut him off as you approached the scene that was laid out in front of you. You ignored his present concern for your wellbeing as you crossed your arms over your chest. “What the fuck is going on here, Joel?”
“Seth said some shit that he really oughta have kept to himself. S’alright. I got this one handled. Why don’t you go on back home where it’s warm.”
“No. I want you to tell me what he said.” You stood firm
Joel eyed the rest of his men who were all looking much like sheep themselves. “He called you a cockslut, and that all a woman is good for is a tight wet hole to fuck.” He deadpanned.
You appeared unfazed sans the slight arch of your brow. “Really?” You scoffed. “How original. Don’t you think that strangling him is a bit too merciful?”
“Well, before you came out here, I threatened to carve his tongue out.”
“Oh?” You asked with a lopsided grin. “Now that is more your style, baby. Wanna use my knife? I just sharpened it the other day.”
Seth was nervously looking between yours and Joel’s sadistic grins as he struggled to escape. All Joel had to do was snap his fingers once for two of his men to then force Seth down by his shoulders, and physically pry his jaw open as he thrashed wildly on the ground.
“My little lamb, you’re so sick..y’know that?” He was already reaching for your outstretched knife before his hand encased around your wrist and gently tugged you down into the snow. “Front row seat jus’ for you, baby. Don’t worry, he’ll never say another word about you again.” he sealed his promise to you against your lips before he was pulling away to finish off the job.
“S’matter, Seth? Cat got your tongue?” Joel crooned as grabbed the back of his head and yanked it forward. “This oughta teach ya to respect women.”
“Joel–wait! Please don’t do this! I’m sorry! I’m–” Seth’s pleas were violently cut off when Joel sliced right through his tongue. Blood spattered and squirted from the gushing wound as his once attached muscle now laid limp in the snow.
“Oh, what was that? You’re sorry? It’s a bit too late for that, pal.” Joel spat before he picked up the chunk of Seth’s mutilated tongue and tossed it right into the nearby fire pit.
“Get him outta my sight before I decide to rip his throat out too. Tie him up to a tree a few miles from here. Leave him to the wolves. They’ll finish him off.” He demanded his men as he wiped the blood from your knife along Seth’s shirt.
His hand reached for yours to help you up from the ground. You held no shame to admit that watching Joel mutilate someone in front of you so willingly sent a wave of arousal gushing between your clenched thighs, and you probably would have fucked him right then and there and let his men watch because none of that really mattered anymore. You opted to pull him behind a cluster of trees instead as you dropped to your knees ceremoniously in the bitter cold snow that instantly bit at your exposed bare skin. Your hands clawed for his belt as you desperately unlatched it and shoved his jeans down his thighs swiftly. Your cheeks felt cold to the touch as Joel’s hand affectionately held your face in his warm palm as you pulled his stiff cock free. His heart swelled with pure pride for his good little lamb.
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formulawolff · 17 hours
Text
“tending to my love” - t.w.
pairing: fem!reader x toto wolff
word count: 1.1k
warnings: reader is sick, a few curse words here and there, fluff so sweet it may give you a cavity
a/n: this request was sent to me a longgg time ago by an anon! so anon, i hope you enjoy soft toto tending to the love of his life <3 and i hope y'all enjoy the coziness! <3
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how are you feeling? have you taken medicine? has theodore checked up on you?
letting out a slight cough, you reach for the mug on the nightstand. carefully, you bring the heated cup to your lips, steam billowing into your nostrils.
the liquid is soothing, easing the ache in your throat as it flows down, the warmth flourishing into your chest.
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the mug clinks as you place it back on to the coaster. three gray dots appear, signaling you that he was not quite finished with his series of inquiries.
there's about five more minutes of this meeting and then i am taking the rest of the day off. if you need anything while i'm out, don't hesitate to let me know. would you like any sherbet or sorbet for your throat?
a giggle bubbles up, yet it crescendos into a cough, your lungs burning as you bury your face into your elbow.
once your coughing fit ceases, you begin to type a reply, thumbs gliding across the screen.
still feelin' pretty shitty. all i am in need are of some cuddles ;((
his responds instantly, and you feel the corners of your lips curl into a wide grin.
my poor schatzi. don't you fret, the moment i'm home i'm going to cuddle the shit out of you.
i hope that didn't come out wrong. you know what i mean.
i know what you meant, love. can't wait to see you. x
once you're finished with your text, you shove your phone back underneath the covers. snuggling back into the comforter, your thumb hovers over the spacebar of your laptop, resuming your favorite netflix show.
although this was about your second time rewatching the infamous series, you couldn't get enough. it was your version of real housewives or keeping up with the kardashians, as there was never a shortage of drama in the world of formula one.
since you were sick, you couldn't imagine anything more comforting than watching your boyfriend work. especially since you couldn't be there by his side in the office. you wouldn't admit it, but there were times you fell asleep to the show when the two of you were apart.
which, was the case currently, as the waves of heat from the comforter were oh so cozy. especially in your current state.
yet, you needed to resist.
it wouldn't be too much longer until he was home.
only about fifteen more minutes and he would be in bed with you, wrapping you up in those comforting arms.
meanwhile, toto wolff curses under his breath, balancing his work bag, a small tote of groceries, and keys in one hand. the other presses on his car door, slamming it shut as he fidgets with the keys. clicking a button, the car chirps in response, signaling that it was locked.
who knew that leaving work early to take care of his sick girlfriend was such a crime?
sliding the key into the lock, his wrist rotates. his free hand grasps the knob, opening the door. setting his work bag to the floor, he slips off his shoes, the tote of groceries still in hand.
making a quick pit stop in the kitchen, he places a quart of sherbet in the freezer, sliding a couple bottles of gatorade in the door off the fridge.
now, he could finally reunite with his love.
the austrian trudges up the winding stairs, ensuring that his steps were a little heavier than normal. this was habitual, his way of letting you know that he was home and on his way to you in the bedroom.
however, he doesn't hear you call out for him.
a tiny dose of panic sets in, but he fights his way through it. you just had a cold. it was nothing major, mainly respiratory. there was no reason to fret too much.
when it came to you though, toto found himself in a constant state of worry.
if anything happened to you, oh fuck. that was a thought too heavy to bear.
the moment he enters the bedroom, his heart swells.
you're buried in the comforter, hoodie of your sweatshirt pulled on, lips parted as your chest rises and falls. your laptop is only a few inches away, the sounds of voices filling the space. there's the rumble of an engine here and there, a noise that the team principal knew all too well.
the sound of a formula one engine.
carefully, he sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. his hand connects with your cheek, thumb tracing tenderly along your heated skin.
"did you miss me, schatzi?"
his voice is soft, brimmed with adoration. he doesn't expect you to stir, but you do, lashes fluttering, nose wrinkling in the process. at the realization that he was there, along with drive to survive still playing on your laptop, you pop up, hands instinctively reaching out.
the sound ceases as you nearly slam the laptop shut, "h-hi."
"good evening," a chuckle rumbles in the austrian's chest, "how are you feeling?"
"tired."
"i bet," raising the comforter, the team principal shuffles under the covers, pulling you against his chest.
"how often do you do that?"
"do what?" nuzzling into collarbone, you inhale traces of cologne that linger, grateful for his familiar scent, "i don't know what you're talking about."
"you know what i mean," he tuts, "do you watch that to sleep?"
"sometimes," you shrug, "it helps me sleep."
"well i'm here now," his lips graze your temple, peppering kisses all over, "i'll be here to take care of you when you wake. do you need anything?"
"no," shaking your head, your lids droop, the sleep settling in once more, "you're all i need."
"i love you," his heartbeat is steady, guiding you closer and closer to the edge of slumber.
"and i love you, toto. thank you for leaving early to take care of me."
"always," a hand slips underneath your hoodie, massaging gentle circles into your back, "i'll always be here. there is nothing more important than tending to my love when she's sick."
"you promise?" you can barely form the words, but they come out anyway.
"yes," toto nods, "i promise."
as you doze off, the team principal can't help but bring you in even closer.
sure, it was a risk, being in such close proximity to you.
but it was a risk that toto was willing to take.
if it meant that you were content, then that's all that mattered.
after all, if he caught your little bug, then it meant that he would get to spend more quality time with you.
and that idea alone was more enough to make it all worth it.
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master taglist: @ts1m1kas @joalslibrary @bxuzi @swifth0lic @dounib67 @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @invictax @pretzelsarenice @lizxoxeth @crazygirl0902 @marknolee @f1kenzzz @statuewoman @jeannealicette @chuxk-lerclerk @manianoola @lokideservesahug @noooway555 @vimayxo @p3rcyp1g
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psychedelicgenesis · 4 months
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I sent an anon ask to @starfxkr about single!dad!!jj and now my brain is consumed by this so here's a more elaborated blurb/write-up...
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JJ's daughter is so much like him it's unreal. She's packing a punch and shouting profanities at the boy who has your daughter's school bag strung up in a tree and her belongings stuck in a bird's nest. Neither yours or JJ's daughters had ever really interacted before this, at least not enough to be close. But now they were sat on a bench outside the office, swinging their feet that couldn't reach the floor and giggling about something their Maths teacher misspelt on the board earlier that day.
It wasn't as much fun for you, though... This wasn't the first time you'd been called to the school regarding incidents like this; the boy had been bullying your daughter for months now with no repercussions. Instead, your daughter was the one consistently asked to stay off the next day.
"Maybe he just has a crush," the principal suggests tamely. Your eyes nearly dry from not blinking for a solid 2 minutes and JJ's sat there, head down and stifling a laugh, in front of the desk. "Bad move, cupcake," he mutters to the principal. "That type of mindset lets them grow up to be wife-beaters," you strain your voice from shouting. "Then perhaps it's just an overreaction... or maybe your daughter isn't being entirely truthful." "Do you wanna try that one again, Principal Whitaker?" You suck your teeth and watch the suited man shift uncomfortably. "There have always been kids willing to vouch for her. You just have it out for us, clearly, and you love that little shit's family donations. Tell me, how much do they let you pocket?" "That's an absurd accusation!" "Then why's it my daughter who's always penalised for that ratty boy's actions?" "Mrs--" "Miss," you correct sternly. JJ side eyes you, noting the correction. "You can't call a child ratty, it's not appropriate." "We're way passed what's appropriate. This is the thirteenth visit, if my daughter wasn't so dead set on staying here, and if there was another school district, I'd have taken her out months ago. Where is he? Where are his parents?" "That's what I've been asking for the past hour," JJ chimes in, leaning back on his chair and puffing his chest, then letting out a loud exasperated sigh as he cracks his knuckles. "Sorry, you are?" Your focus is now on the blonde. He turns to you eagerly, reaches out a hand for you to shake and then quickly takes his hat off as some gentlemanly gesture. "JJ Maybank, my girl's the one outside with yours... the one who got a few punches in on the kid." You nod slowly, letting your hands meet to shake a greeting. His hand is clammy and warm when it engulfs yours, far bigger than yours too. The rough skin of his palm strokes against your own calloused one as you both pull your hands away. "You raised yours well, then." Principal Whitaker scoffs. "I don't think that's the right thing to say, do you?" Now he's cowardly when your focus falls to him again. "Did you already talk to them?" You fold your arms and JJ is also equally as curious to know. He stands up now, fiddling with and squeezing his cap. His hair is tousled without it on his head.
The office door swings open and you're being gently shoved out by JJ, who ended up having to diffuse the situation between you and Whitaker. You're still shouting at the principal even from the hall, while JJ's acting as a barricade between the two of you, all while smiling at the two girls on the bench. Their eyes are wide at your loudness, albeit both are unfazed. "She's just feelin'... passionate, girls." His body is being shaken by you trying to speak over or around his tall frame at the principal. And then the principal shuts the door, closes the blinds to the windows... You back away from JJ and pace, trying to control your frustrated breathing. You crouch to the floor, bag falling from your shoulder, and you try to keep it together. Your daughter is right there, you have to keep it together. You have to-- A tiny hand rests on your head and messily strokes your hair. She's tangled it but you lift your head to see the beaming smile of your daughter. "Who wants pizza?" JJ calls out. "On me." You look up at him exhausted but managing to form a small smile as he looks down at you with a sympathetic one. His daughter runs up at him and begs to be picked up, chanting "pizza" non-stop until you all arrive to the pizza truck restaurant.
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crownofgildedlilies · 5 months
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feelin' like an absolute fool about it -> cool about it [1]
in which: a son of jupiter can't remember the life he lost to time and circumstance. or the daughter of mercury he lost, too.
pairing: jason grace x daughter of mercury!roman!reader
warnings: angst, angst, and angst. oh and cursing.
word count: 3.3k
a/n: this is a four part fic and im so obsessed with this idea. Jason Grace the man that you are. oh and this follows a nonlinear plot so be warned. lmk if you want to be added to a taglist or wtv!
[one] two three four
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"If I have to sit through one more meeting with you making kiss me eyes at the praetor, I'm going to run myself through with my own lance."
"Good morning to you, too, Dakota." You grunted, half amused, half still pissy from the horror show that had been your previous night. "I slept like shit, thanks for asking."
"You're welcome," He didn't miss a beat, pouring more kool-aid than was probably healthy into his cup to drink with breakfast. "Now, man up."
"Real inspiring."
Dakota leveled you with a flat look, and you fought the urge to roll your own eyes. But you knew he would twist the action into your admitting defeat in your impromptu staring contest.
And you were nothing if not a sore loser.
"Admit you want to date the praetor." Dakota demanded, trying to push the conversation along.
On instinct, your gaze darted throughout the dining pavilion, looking for a certain head of blond hair that had yet to make an appearance that morning. And it was then that you knew Dakota meant business, because he didn’t call you out for looking away first.
"Reyna's pretty. Not my type, though." You deflected, stabbing a fork into your breakfast with what was probably more force than necessary. Dakota's eyes widened at the action, briefly, before narrowing at you in suspicion.
"Moving past that comment," He waved his hand in front of him, as if to physically move the conversation along. "Does your current attitude have anything to do with last night's freak thunderstorm?"
Maybe, you would have said, if your mouth didn't suddenly taste so bitter. Still, you winced, and you knew that was enough of an answer for him.
"Oh, come on!" Dakota groaned, pausing only to sip greedily on his kool-aid. You looked on in near amusement, cheek propped up on your fist, waiting for his dramatics to pass. "I finally get my speech all prepared to get you to confess your unending love to Praetor Grace, and you two get in an argument the night before?"
"Pity," You replied dryly, hoping the way you exaggeratedly poked out your bottom lip and knitted your brows together masked the ache in your chest.
"Centurion," Dakota whined, and you wondered how you had gotten so lucky to be promoted to lead the Fifth Cohort alongside him. "What happened?"
Your eyes flashed, shooting him a glare that made him snap his mouth shut.
"Oh-kay." He whistled, sipping his kool-aid some more. Seriously, you needed to figure out how to trick the poor guy into drinking water. "My point still stands. One argument does not change the fact that you guys are in love with each other."
You scoffed, shoveling pancakes in your mouth to avoid answering, head ducked.
Dakota slammed his open palms down on the top of the table so forcefully, almost every head in the pavilion snapped towards him.
"So you admit it!" He accused, grinning wickedly and showing off the red-stained mustache his drink of choice left. You grimaced, swallowing your breakfast to avoid choking. "You do love him!"
"Keep your voice down or I will shove Octavian's entire teddy bear collection down your—"
"Okay!" Dakota interrupted, grinning proudly, as if he hadn't just been threatened. "No need for violence. I was right."
"So is a broken clock twice a day. You're not special." You rolled your eyes, settling stiffly back into your seat. Risking another glance around the mess hall, you still found no sight of the world's most irritating, kind-hearted, moron of a praetor.
Also known as Jason Grace, your best friend.
And as Dakota had just so eloquently uncovered, the guy you've been in love with for years without ever uttering a word about it to him.
"Put me out of my misery, please, and just go talk to the guy, will you?" He begged, like he truly was the one suffering. You glared at him again, but you knew it wasn't fair.
Dakota hadn't been there last night, when you had tried telling Jason how you felt. But the boy was as emotionally oblivious as he was pretty, which was saying a lot.
"Wait," Dakota wiped at his mouth, but the kool-aid stains remained behind. "Did you already—?"
"Centurions," Harper from the Second Cohort appeared at your side, slightly out of breath and eyes wide. You had only ever really spoken to her during Senate meetings, but you were friendly enough.
So you were more than a little confused when she looked at you and took a step back, like she was afraid.
"Everything alright, Harper?" You asked, turning slightly in your seat, mind already running through a million different scenarios of horrible things that could have happened and dragged such a reaction out of Harper.
You had seen the girl take on four sons of Mars before. She wasn't exactly afraid of much.
"He's gone," The words tumbled past her lips before she winced, taking a second step away from you. Face twisted in confusion, you tried to make sense of the vague explanation. "Jason, I mean. He's just—"
Gone.
You were out of your seat before she could finish talking, breakfast long forgotten. The few bites you had managed to swallow felt like lead in the pit of your stomach, weighing you down and making you feel like you were barely moving, even as you raced so fast through camp that even the Lares barely had time to get out of your way.
There was no way Harper was right. Jason couldn't just be—be gone. He was everything a Roman aspired to be; strong, resilient, dedicated.
And maybe you had gotten into an argument, but Broken Clock Dakota was right for the second time that day. One argument didn't mean you stopped loving him.
You have never been so thankful that your father was the god of travelers as your feet pounded on the dirt roads. Sprinting towards the bunk houses, you utilized every ounce of Mercury-blessed speed. Jason had to be there. Or maybe he had snuck off to New Rome to buy you apology flowers, like he had the one time he missed your birthday—you had forgive him easily, as he had been off on a quest he nearly died during.
Heart in your throat, you skidded to a halt outside the small, private bedrooms given to the praetors. You had always teased Jason that his looked like a prison cell, considering his only decorations were books on war strategies used throughout centuries.
But then he had taped up that one gods-awful photo of you and him, both squinting against the sun shining in your faces, and it hadn't seemed so desolate.
"Jason!" You shouted with relief, voice choked up, because the door to his room was open. He never kept his door open, unless you were inside, because he claimed it stopped the other campers from making assumptions about what the two of you were getting up to in his bedroom, alone.
And then you would ask him to explain what he meant by that, trying to hide your grin for as long as you could while he stammered over his words with a blush.
"Jase, they're saying—" You pushed open the door to his room further, voice almost shuddering, and stopped cold when you saw the room's only occupant.
Because it wasn't your blond haired love leaning over the small desk in the corner of the room.
"He didn't show up to our praetor meeting this morning." Reyna's voice was flat, giving you only the facts. You were glad, because if she had spoken with pity, you were certain you would have thrown up.
Jason would be nice about it, but you didn't want to vomit on his carpet.
"That's not like him," You stated dumbly, fingertips vibrating with anxious nerves. Reyna shook her head, and it was then that you realized she had been sifting through the stacks of papers on his desk.
It felt like an intrusion of his privacy, even if it was a necessary precaution. There might have been clues to his whereabouts in those papers. Instead, you were certain they were only his to-do lists, scribbled in his neat handwriting you so adored.
And when she spoke next, you wish you could have plugged your ears and ignored her.
"Centurion, Jason Grace is missing."
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Six months, one week, four days, nine hours.
And thirty-six minutes.
Jason had been gone for six months, one week, four days, nine hours, and thirty-six minutes.
In total, you had slept probably a total of nineteen consecutive hours. Octavian had tried calling for your removal from role of Centurion five times. Reyna had offered you the open position of Praetor twice, behind closed doors.
"It's not available," You had snapped. Fear and exhaustion had turned you bitter. "Jason's coming back."
Six months, one week, four days, nine hours, and thirty-seven minutes.
"You know," Dakota's voice was slightly slurred, already gone on the kool-aid on such a bright summer afternoon. He had found you on the steps of the forum, searching through dozens of letters from retired legionnaires all claiming to not have heard any word about Jason but would keep scouting, and suggested you join him for a walk. "I bet he's out there, fighting for his life to get back here to you."
You shot a glare at Dakota, but kept your mouth shut. Lately, he was the only one of your old friends that could stomach being around you. No one else wanted to subject themselves to your attitude. You were glad to have a friend, even if you didn't act like it.
But you wished Dakota wouldn't talk about Jason fighting for his life.
"Brenda said I could take another eagle out searching today," Your voice had a rasp to it. Rarely used, but never rested. For the first three weeks following Jason's disappearance, you spent each night crying in your bunk, murmuring desperate pleas that your golden boy be returned to you.
And maybe he had never truly been your Jason, but it had felt pretty close.
Finally, Reyna had slipped a key into your palm, disguised as a handshake. The silver key, the one that unlocked Jason's empty praetor room, currently sat on a chain around your neck.
You slept there, now.
No one mentioned your nightly disappearance. You figured everyone was just thankful they didn't have to hear your crying anymore.
"Are you sure you should be flying?" Dakota looked you over with unease, the Little Tiber coming into view on the horizon. You were certain you looked a mess, but what did it matter? You only cared about what Jason thought of you, and Jason never cared about what you wore.
Still, the dark bags of exhaustion under your eyes probably were cause for concern.
"Says you," You countered dismissively, waving a hand towards the flask of kool-aid attached to his belt.
"That's not what I mean," He huffed, defensive. "When's the last time you slept—"
The shouting from the Little Tiber interrupted your conversation. You squinted in the direction of the sound, both surprised and startled to find two massive fists of water raised in the air, a gorgon in each.
At the bank was Hazel Levesque, submerged up to his knees was Frank Zhang, and... controlling the water-fists was a boy you had never seen before.
Without warning Dakota, you took off in a sprint towards the edge of the Little Tiber. You reached the bank just as Frank shot two incredibly well placed arrows at each of the gorgons, turning them to dust and swallowing them downstream.
"Centurion!" Hazel gasped, spotting you approach. Dakota was slowly closing in, muttering curses about children of Mercury and their swiftness. "We found him by the front gates. He was carrying, well, a goddess, so we figured we should let him in."
By the time Hazel finished rambling, both the new boy and Frank had made it ashore. Frank, with his probatio tablet swinging around his neck avoided meeting your eye.
Most people did, lately.
But the newcomer met your stare head on, confidently, if not a little confused. Pursing your lips, something about him set off alarms in your mind.
"What's your name?" You asked, still frowning. You hated being so angry all the time. You missed smiling. You missed your reason for smiling, too, but you had other things to worry about, somehow.
Like the son of Neptune who showed up on your front door.
The boy shifted on his feet, a bronze sword clenched in his tired hands. He looked far worse than you had realized at first, and his voice was exhausted when he answered you.
"Percy Jackson."
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"Jason Grace!"
"Careful," He grinned, pointing his sword lazily at you. Your laughter echoed throughout the room, setting the world around the two you singing. "People might think your form is getting sloppy."
"Then they'll think you're a shitty coach," You teased, twirling your own sword as you danced throughout the room, always light on your feet. Jason chuckled, and if you could have bottled up the sound to keep forever, you would have in a heartbeat.
Your favorite moments were when it was just you and Jason, in the training center alone. With curfew fast approaching, everyone else was taking advantage of the two short, sweet free hours before lights out.
"Water break," Jason ordered, flipping his sword gracefully back into the golden coin he always kept in his pocket. You obliged him, slipping wordlessly over to your water bottle on the edge of the mat. "I was serious, earlier. You're dropping your elbows."
"And you're more stiff than a flagpole," You countered, raising a pointed brow at him. Jason gave you a look that screamed 'I don't think so', which was practically an invitation for you to mess with him. "Seriously, Jase, you gotta loosen up."
"I'm loose." He argued, and you let out another loud laugh, the kind that had your head tipping back with the force of your joy. Crossing the room to stand before him, you lifted your chin so that you had a chance at meeting his eye.
I'm loose, he claimed. The thought made you snort, again, as you took in his rigid posture, how even just standing, his arms were crossed over his broad chest.
"Jase," You crooned innocently, settling your left hand on his shoulder, fingers smoothing over the muscle. His reaction was instant, to your excitement. Flush coating his cheeks, his eyes tracking the movement of your hand against him.
Just as you had hoped.
"Baby," You taunted, and he actually choked, burning a bright red as you stepped closer to him, smirk on your lips. "If you're going to talk shit about my elbows, you better get ready to fight back."
Grinning wickedly, you held up the magical golden coin you had lifted from Jason's pocket while he was distracted.
"Give me that," He huffed, eyes rolling and catching your wrist before you could get away. Your laughter fell from you in echoing shrieks, trying to escape Jason as he tried to snatch the coin back.
You stuck out your arm in the opposite direction, trying to hold out as long as you could against him. How rare it was you ever were able to outsmart the great Jason Grace.
He simply pulled you closer, his longer arms stretching out over your body to try and get his coin back. Knees knocking together, your laughters mixed in the air.
By the time his fingers finally wrapped around the golden coin, you could barely breathe. Smiles spread wide over both your faces, you grinned up at him, cheeks albeit a bit flushed.
His arm was wrapped around your middle, holding you flush against his front. And even as he stuffed his coin back into his pocket, he kept his arm wrapped around you tightly.
You weren't going to complain, either, your own hands settling on the tops of his shoulders, toying with the collar of his purple camp shirt.
Gods, you were so in love with him, you felt it in your bones. How was it fair that the powers that be put him in your life, just out of arms reach? And how could Venus despise you so much that she would give you Jason Grace, let him hold you and smile at you, and not have him fall in love with you, too?
He was blinding, golden sunlight, and you just needed to be caught in his rays, however briefly.
"Why do you train so much?" You weren't exactly sure where the question came from, but you were certain it was an important one as you studied the emotions swirling in his sky blue eyes. Confusion, mostly, but also a hint of something so similar to admiration it made your skin feel flushed.
"We're soldiers." He reasoned, ever the level-headed Roman. And you loved him for it, really, but you loved him more than the Roman traits.
"Do we have to be, all the time?" You hated how desperate your voice sounded, and you hated Jason for making you ask.
"What else is there for us?" His counter argument was like he hit the panic button in your mind. And maybe if you had more time to think about how to best react, you would have slowed down and talked him through a life beyond the military prowess he had been practically conditioned to think was the only life for him.
But you didn't have time, and you could barely think, so all you did was pull away from his hold.
"Forget it." You mumbled, not entirely sure if you intended for him to hear. It wasn't his fault, you distantly reasoned, he didn't know any better. Raised by wolves then sent to Camp Jupiter? He had no chance at seeing any sort of life beyond battlefield glory.
But you weren't the daughter of reason. Your father was the god of thieves, and your emotions stole the moment from your fingertips.
"Hold on," Jason urged, taking a step towards you as you backed away, mumbling some excuse about needing more water. "Did I do something wrong?"
"Never, Jase." You nodded solemnly, your frown never once leaving your lips as you twisted back around to face him. "And maybe that's the problem."
I want you to break regulation and kiss the daylights out of me, you wanted to scream.
"I don't understand." He shook his head, open palms splayed up towards the sky, like he was pleading with you or the gods to explain to him.
You laughed once more, but this time, it echoed coldly in the empty training room. Gone was the sunshine smiled you wore, as if it had fallen behind the horizon as the real sun set over your head.
Bitterness twisted your heart, firing unfamiliar cruelty through your gaze, pinned on Jason. He almost flinched at the look on your face.
I don't understand, he had claimed. He didn't understand just how much you ached for him, praetor or not. Roman or mortal, you wanted him.
But he was a soldier, first. And maybe he was a soldier, only.
"Maybe that's the problem."
He called your name, but you were already out the door, letting the metal slam shut behind you.
You weren't enough of a fool to pretend to not see the lightning strike the roof of the training center, ruining the perfectly clear skies from only moments before. The only proof of Jason's frustration he would let the world see, you knew.
The only proof that maybe he ached the same way as you.
That night, you didn't sleep. Your poor bunkmates, listening to you twist and turn and try and get comfortable when it felt like knives were piercing your insides. Acid burned your tongue, cursing the appendage for ever trying to broach the subject about being more than soldiers to the other with Jason.
The next morning, you walked into breakfast, determined to avoid talking to Jason for at least a few hours.
Oh, what a mistake that wish was.
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empresskylo · 1 year
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beneath the mask ✩ chapter 7 ⬅ch.6
➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | afab!reader. nightmares. wc 3.2k ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | this chapter got me feelin some typa way
𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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ghost struggled to come to terms with his feelings towards you. he knew he had grown to like you, but what did that entail exactly? was he interested beyond friendship? and even if he was, he couldn’t act on his desires – a lieutenant can't get himself involved with a subordinate medic. and the fact that you were often on his team meant he was your direct superior half of the time… things could get messy extremely fast. 
he also liked to tell himself that you wanted something he couldn’t offer. a relationship – romantic or platonic – he had an unrelenting habit of closing people out.
so ghost decided he should avoid you. not entirely, that would be impossible , but he had to shake you from his thoughts. he needed time to wipe out the memory of you pressed against him in that closet. of the way your hands felt wrapped around him on his motorcycle. the fear that coursed through him as he watched you run into that burning house. 
he thought of you often, and he fucking hated it . 
he thought back to the day he spoke to you before thinking: “ you’re the one who told me to let people in. ” you had properly scared him when you ran into that flaming building. that’s when he knew he had let you slip into the cracks of his shell without even realizing it. 
i’d sooner kick your ass off my fuckin’ team if it meant keepin’ you safe. from leavin’ me. 
he had immediately regretted the words. he told you he’d kick you off the team if it meant keeping you from getting yourself killed – aka – leaving him. 
he ran a hand down his scarred face as he looked in the bathroom mirror and sighed. he was worried you’d get the wrong idea. granted, he meant exactly what he said, but admitting that to you was a new level of danger simon wasn’t accustomed to. becoming acquainted with his teammates was one thing, but letting you in was a whole different story and he didn’t know why. he didn’t know why he started to crave your presence, ever since he had you bandaging him up after he was shot weeks ago. you had been different… you were still radiating hope. this shithole hadn’t crushed your soul yet. you reminded him a bit of soap. 
he grabbed the sides of the sink and stared at his reflection, disgust rising in his throat. why, of all people, did it have to be you? why couldn’t his cold, dead heart beat for someone outside of this line of work? or even better, for no one at all . 
i’ve neva had a lil’ crush on my lieutenant, actin’ like this is all a big fuckin’ game.
his own words clogged his brain. god, there was no way you’d forgive him for being such an ass. and maybe that was for the best. 
he went over all the reasons he needed to pry you from his thoughts: your relationship would be forbidden; he’d hurt you; you’d probably hurt him; you’re too young for him; he has no fucking idea how to navigate a romantic relationship. all solid reasons to him.
then a stupid, careless thought popped into his head. maybe…maybe he could just get you out of his system… but were you the type of girl who could do sex with no strings attached? simon didn’t want to admit that he’d certainly be the one who’d get attached, so he scratched that off his – lacking – list of options with the rationale being that you’d probably get hung up over him.
all these logical reasons, and he still couldn’t shake you. he was fucked . 
it was late and simon had a meeting with price, a quick debrief on the whole hassan situation. he kept his outfit light, sporting just a long-sleeved black shirt, black sweats, his combat boots, mask, and gun strapped to his hip. most of the barracks would be asleep by now unless soap had somehow convinced gaz to play another round of poker. 
ghost walked the halls, stealthy in the shadows of the flickering fluorescent lights overhead. it was a natural part of his gait now: to blend in and be silent. 
he stretched his arms over his head as he sauntered down the corridors. he heard a strange noise echo down one of the halls and he halted. curious, he changed direction and started to walk down the right corridor towards the sound, hearing the noise more clearly now. it was coming from one of the rooms. 
it sounded like… crying. someone was sobbing and whimpering in distress. 
ghost’s first reaction was that someone was hurt, in trouble, but as he edged towards the door, he realized it sounded more like someone having a night terror. 
he slowly pushed open the door that had already been left slightly ajar, letting the faded light slip into the room, and spotted you on your tiny, smaller-than-a-twin sized bed. he cursed at himself when he realized it was your room he was walking into uninvited.
but that moment of doubt slipped when he heard you begin to cry, whining in your sleep. he made it over to the side of your bed and said your name softly, not sure what else to do. 
when you didn’t respond, he rubbed the back of his neck and tried again. “ come on. wake up .” he attempted to be quiet, he didn’t want anyone to hear him and come snooping about, finding him in your room… at night… in the dark. wanting to prevent that, he quickly went to your bedroom door and shut it before going back to your side whilst muttering curses. his hand came out, softly resting on your shoulder, and he gently shook you. “wake up,” he tried again. 
he clicked on the light by your bedside and felt his heart twinge when he looked back at you. the lamp created a terrible yellow glow, but that didn’t disguise the tears you had streaming down your cheeks. 
he leaned over you, his body getting precariously close to yours, and he gave you a harder nudge. this time,  you finally opened your eyes. the tears continued to pour down your face and you hiccuped a tired sob out. ghost tucked some of your disheveled hair behind your ear on instinct. “ you’re okay ,” he said faintly. 
“ghost…?” he saw your lips quiver as you sat up, realizing you weren't alone in the room, and you reached for him, almost colliding with ghost’s head, wrapping your arms around his neck. he jolted upright a bit in surprise, pulling you with him. his arms hesitated, but after a few moments, they found a spot around your waist like his body was familiar with this. 
he could feel you crying into his neck and his hand on you tightened, pulling you flesh against him. 
“please don’t tell anyone,” you mumbled against him. 
ghost was oblivious to his hands as they began to rub circles on your back. “why would i tell anyone?”
you pulled away, your hands still clasped around his neck, and looked at him. ghost gulped. your eyes were red and teary but that just made them that much more vibrant. you had tear marks down your cheeks and your hair was all over the place. his chest tightened momentarily. he desperately wanted to wipe the tears from your cheeks, but he refrained by tightening his grip on you instead.
your eyes shifted down in embarrassment. “just… will you keep this between us? please.”
it hurt him to think that you either thought so lowly of him to worry that he might use this against you, or because of the fact that you didn’t want anyone to know you were struggling. 
a pang of hurt spread through ghost before quickly subsiding. did you think he was the type of person who would casually gossip? fuck , of course you did. you were probably worried he’d throw this back in your face in the future. he had done nothing but diss out insults and begruding remarks at you since day one. has he ever said a kind word to you? he was trying to remember, but your face so close to him made it hard. 
ghost thought about his own nightmares that plagued him and how he hadn’t told anyone either. he kept it to himself. knowing that feeling, he nodded at you in an unspoken promise: this was between the two of you, and the two of you only. 
you released your arms awkwardly and ghost set you back down so you were sitting on your bed. that's when he realized you were only in a tank top and sleep shorts – skimpy ones at that. he averted his eyes quickly, though he desperately wanted to linger on you. 
“sorry,” you said. ghost couldn’t see, but he figured you’d be blushing. “this is so embarrassing.” you buried your face in your hands. 
“it’s not,” he said finally. 
you looked up at him and gave him a mirthless smile. “it is. i can’t believe i still get nightmares like a kid.”
ghost’s hands slipped into his pockets, unsure of what else to do with them. “i get 'em too.”
you shied away from his gaze. “you don’t have to say that.”
“i wouldn’t lie jus’ t’make you feel better.” he didn’t know why he had to say it like that, but he was relieved when you gave a small laugh, even if it was breathless. 
“yeah, well it seems more appropriate for you.”
he tilted his head in a quizzical manner. 
“ i just mean that you have been in combat… i can’t imagine the horrors you’ve seen… things you’ve done…”
“jus’ cause you haven’t killed people with your own hands, doesn’t mean you can’t have things that haunt you.”
you swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. your intention wasn’t to get ghost to comfort you – he was probably wishing he had never walked into your room right about now – you were simply embarrassed and wanted to gloss over the situation, but it came off as self-deprecating. it figures he wouldn’t let that slide. 
ghost shifted between his feet. you felt your face warm as he stared down at you sitting cross-legged on your bed. 
ghost opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it. “would you stay with me?”
oh my god. you waved your hands in front of you frantically. “no, sorry. i don’t know why i said that. i–i’ll just go bother soap. don’t worry about me,” you said all at once as one long slur of words. you can’t believe you just asked your lieutenant that, especially now that he knows about your ‘lil crush’, as he called it. he’d certainly think you were obsessed or reading things wrong. 
to much of your astonishment, ghost gestured his head forward, indicating he wanted you to scoot over. you clumsily did, your shoulder now against the wall. 
the room was small, just one bed with a mattress – the other cot was barren, your roommate situation up in the air at the moment – and there was no chair. he only had one option if he was to stay with you.
a pang of annoyance coursed through ghost. what could johnny do that he couldn’t? he thought to himself in challenge. and so he settled in beside you, his legs stretching across your bed. it was a tight squeeze with his formidable frame and your tiny ass bed.
you felt your whole body heat up, his shoulder against yours as he squeezed into the small space. 
ghost was doing precisely the opposite of what he had just lectured himself on. 
“you don’t have to…i didn’t mean to–”
“jus’ close that mouth of yours and go t’sleep,” he said coolly, though his skin was burning where you leaned against him. 
you were propped up on your pillow and you both laid there in silence. ghost wanted to say something – to tell you he was sorry. to tell you that he is only an ass because he doesn’t know how to control his emotions. but the words evaded him. and that was probably for the best. 
you weren’t sure how you were going to fall asleep with ghost now at your side, keeping you on edge. but after only a few minutes, your eyes grew heavier and fluttered shut against your will, your head lulled against him as sleep overtook you. his presence reminded you that you were safe. 
he felt safe . 
simon cursed under his breath as he felt himself smile when you leaned into him, your body falling into a slumber. he knew better than to allow this. he pushed his mask up slightly to rub his mouth and chin, itching to get away from you, and touch you, all at the same time. 
you woke in the morning, alone in your bed, your blanket tucked around you, and the smell of ghost lingering on your sheets. 
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days had gone by and you and ghost had been successful in ignoring one another. 
you stood in the training room, plenty of other soldiers around you, either working out on a machine alone or in pairs. you stood on a training mat and huffed. you had decided to keep practicing your combat skills for the chance that another mission would pop up. you wanted to be prepared. only having the skillset of a medic wasn’t cutting it for you anymore. not after what you went through. what if one of the other men hadn’t been there to save you – i.e. ghost.
you were stretching your arm across your chest when hands wrapped around your waist and lifted you up off the ground. a burst of giggles left you as soap spun you around before plopping you back down. you turned to face him. “can i help you?” you teased. 
“actually, thought maybe i’d help ya train for a lil bit. if ya wanted,” he offered. he wore leisure workout clothes and had already set his water bottle down beside the mat. 
“you don’t have to. i’m sure you’d rather–”
“let me stop you right there, lass. i'm offerin’ because i want to. quit second guessin’ yourself.”
you gave him a faint smile. he was right. soap was always right – but you would never tell him that. it would just get to his head. 
“alright. fine, then.”
he grinned and began to stretch. 
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thirty minutes must have gone by and you were drenched in sweat as soap pinned you to the mat time and time again. 
“i thought you woulda improved since last time,” soap teased. 
you playfully rolled your eyes and brushed your hands against your sweats, getting ready to go again. “it’s not my fault! i’m trying!”
“well, whatever percent you’re givin’ it, double that.”
you scoffed but smiled brightly at him. you had been so caught up in the moment, you never noticed when ghost had came into the training room. there were multiple soldiers scattered around, so even if you had been paying attention, you still might not have seen him.
he wore gray sweats today and a tight black shirt. a sight you would have got choked up over.
“arms up,” johnny commanded. 
you listened, setting your hands and arms in the correct position that he had shown you earlier. then soap launched at you, and you tried to dodge his attack, side-stepping swiftly. but soap was lithe and nimble. he hooked his arm around you and pulled you to the ground and you let out a yelp. 
you landed on your back and looked up at soap breathlessly. he was nestled between your legs that were bent at the knee. his hands were on either side of your shoulders. 
“now what’re you gonna do, lass?” he teased. 
you smirked and attempted a move he had demonstrated earlier and that you had used when ghost pinned you in this position. you squeezed your thighs around soap’s waist and tried to roll your body. you felt soap go limp, allowing you to more easily roll him underneath you – if he hadn’t, you likely wouldn’t have had the strength to maneuver him. 
soap smirked as you landed on top of him, straddling his hips and giving him a self-assured, satisfied look. 
“don’t look too cocky. i let you move me.”
you rolled your eyes and huffed. “soap,” you whined. “how am i gonna learn if you do that?”
soap’s hands lingered on your hips, both of you blatantly unaware of how intimate you may have looked right then. 
“you’re half my size, lass. so unless you wanna bulk up, yer never gonna be able to move me.”
you shook your head. he was right. 
“i jus’ want you t’know how to execute the basics for now. know t’motions. don’t worry bout anything else.”
“ugh,” you sighed. “you really had me thinking i could best you.”
soap chuckled, and in a lazy motion, he pushed you off of him so you fell to your side on the mat. “never gonna happen, love.”
you pursed your lips and begrudgingly accepted his hand as he hoisted you up. 
ghost was sat across the gym, leaning on his spread-out knees, twirling a knife in his hand as he watched you and soap. you hadn’t felt it, but his eyes were on the two of you the entire time he was in the training room. there was fire blazing inside ghost as he watched you and soap all over each other.
soap was squeezing his water bottle into his mouth, walking towards ghost. “hey, l.t.” he called. ghost’s eyes flickered away from you – who was currently collecting your things to leave – and looked up at soap. he gave him a grunt as a greeting, but that was all. 
“what’s got your panties in a knot?” johnny asked, scratching his scruff as he eyed which machine to work out on next. 
ghost’s hand clenched his knife, his eyes tracing your figure as you left the gym, completely unaware of his presence. he should talk to you , he thought. things had been left… uncomfortable between the two of you. were you friends? did you still think he hated you? were you actually interested in him? could you forgive him for being a jerk? did he even want you to forgive him? were you still embarrassed about him finding you crying in your room?
ghost stood against his better judgment, wanting to follow you out of the gym, but before he could take his first step, gaz appeared beside you, draping an arm across your shoulders, and walking with you out the door, both of you laughing at something he said. 
“fuckin’ hell,” ghost muttered to himself. he slid his knife aggressively into it’s sheath above his sweats and decided to take his frustration out the only way he knew how: overworking his body. 
johnny watched as simon approached some equipment and jumped up to the pull-up bar and began heaving himself up and down with what looked like he was exerting no effort at all. the way he was going at it so hard made johnny wonder if he was okay. 
“ghost,” soap called.
“leave it, soap,” simon replied with a grunt, wanting to drown his inability to digest his own emotions in a workout. he’d rather clear his mind with needless violence, but this would have to do for now.
chapter 8 ➡
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mockerycrow · 1 year
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No cuz I'm totally having brain rot of reader and either Price or Gaz. The reader is such a control freak that they cannot justify letting anyone do anything that they don't agree with, until Price or Gaz just come in and fuckin manhandle the reader into submission or something. Bros, I... this got me feelin some type of way 😩
this is a ramble, but!!! my brain couldn’t stop. — PRICE X GN!READER!
[IMPLIED PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP + DOM!PRICE (DOM/SUB DYNAMICS). NO ACTUAL SEX BUT VERY SUGGESTIVE.]
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You looked down at the unsorted papers across the desk in front of you, your nerves running high and your stomach twisting. “They never fucking listen.” You mutter, leaning down to write an edit to your newly formatted plan. You had suggested a near fool-proof plan to the team for the upcoming mission that’s happening in a week—it only had one flaw, but it was a flaw you kept insisting that could be overlooked! The building blowing up was not the worst case scenario—
You hear someone knock on the door to your barracks. “Come in!” You call without looking up from your papers. You hear your door swing open and with just hearing the hefty sound of a boot, you already know who it is. You don’t turn around as you sigh and toss the pen back down onto the papers. “John, I honestly don’t really know why you guys aren’t listening to me,” You begin to ramble. “Yes, a building blowing up is bad but is it the worst? I feel as if there’s other bad things that could happen, worse than the building blowing up—“
You gasp as you feel his warm body press against yours. His ungloved hand comes around and gently cupping your throat as his other hand grabs your hip and pulls your hips flush against his, making your head go fuzzy and your words stutter into a stop. Your eyelids flutter shut as you feel him press a kiss to your scalp before he leans in your ear. “Yeah, there you go. All settled down for me now, hm?” John murmurs, amusement lacing his tone.
You shiver when his breath hits your ear, and you feel your heart pounding in your chest. Your lips part for you to speak but you quickly stop when John’s hand squeezes your throat in warning, making a pathetic whimper leave your lips, making him chuckle. It makes your face burn. “I think you’ve been worrying too much, sweetheart,” John retorts, making you lean over the desk, keeping his hips connected to yours. It’s taking every bone in your body to not roll back against him. “Thinking too much. It’s time to change that, don’t you think?”
You nod obediently, so instinctively in fact that you don’t even notice you’re agreeing with him. Your head spins, he lets go of your throat, and then moves his hand to the back of your neck—pressing your face into the desk. Your breathing stutters when his boot knocks your legs apart and the excited groan that leaves you is nothing less than desperate when John presses his crotch against you once more.
He hums in approval and one of his hands grabs your arm, pinning it to the flat of your back. John’s other hand grabs your hip and easily rocks you back against his cock, making your lower body melt. You must’ve made a noise that you don’t remember making, because you hear John tsk and squeeze your hip with a low voice saying, “Words, darling.”
Your eyebrows furrow for a moment as your lips part and all that comes out is a garbled, “please”. John laughs and moves his hand from your hip to your leg, lifting it and forcing you to put it on the table, exposing your clothed crotch to him—you don’t even whine about the crinkled papers, especially because you know by the time John’s done with you, they’ll be completely ruined. “Good pet.”
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cissyenthusiast010155 · 11 months
Note
Hi so i loved what the body wants and i was wondering if you’d do something similar like they hate each other, get locked in a small space but R’s claustrophobic and Rissa helps. Just a bunch of fluff? X
Yesss. Hi anon! Here’s an enemies to friends angst and fluff piece for you, dear anon!! Hope you Enjoy ♥️♥️
Numb and Afraid ~Soft!Larissa Weems xFem Teacher!Reader
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Mommy… Master List
Requests & Prompt-List
Warnings: angst, enemies to friends, happy ending fluff, claustrophobia, high anxiety, implied anxiety attack, crying, comforting, pet names, etc.
Enjoy (;
“Yes, Miss L/N… What do you want?” Larissa sighed in annoyance as you entered her office.
You gritted your teeth together at her tone. She made the hair on the back of your neck stand up in the worst way. You took a deep breath.
“I need access to the storage closet. I’m out of Kleenex.” You explained.
Larissa looked up from her work and looked you up and down suspiciously, as if you would have nefarious intentions with some tissues.
“I see…” she breathed out, “Well, I shall take you there myself.”
She decided and stood up, grabbing her keys.
“No need. Just need the key!” You quickly exclaimed.
Larissa stopped what she was doing, grabbing her things, and stared at you.
“I will be going with you. You have no other business but to get Kleenex, and I shall make sure you stick to it.” She condescendingly explained.
You gritted your teeth together again in anticipation. You nodded in defeat. The blonde raised her head in superiority, as she led you out of her office. The two of you walked to the storage closet, and Larissa unlocked it and held the door open for you.
You nodded and entered, immediately looking for the tissues. Larissa entered with you.
“Is that really necessary?” You sighed in frustration, “it’s only Kleenex…”
“It is absolutely necessary if I deem it so.” Larissa huffed.
But because she had entered behind you, she had let the door go. So it shut. And locked. You heard the click and immediately spun around.
You quickly looked around and suddenly the room looked very small. Your heart fluttered and began to race.
“Did the door lock?” You quickly asked, your mouth going dry.
Larissa had been intently watching you that she hadn’t noticed. But as you mentioned it, she went to open the door and it was locked.
Your mind started to spiral. Larissa tried the key but as she was inserting it and turning it ripped in half, blocking the lock entirely with its first half.
This was your nightmare.
Your eyes frantically ran over everything in the room, desperately searching for a way out. Tears started to form around your eyes. Your breathing was shallow and labored.
Larissa heard a sniffle behind her and turned around, clearly annoyed.
“What is the Ma—” she exclaimed halfway before shutting up at the sight of you.
Larissa’s face dropped into concern as she saw your chest heaving and your tears. Your hands were stimming by shaking violently in front of yourself.
She immediately dropped the defect half of the key and was at your side. Her one hand rubbed your back while her other cupped your cheek. You instinctually leaned into her touch, looking for any type of comfort. Sobs started to pour out from your throat, uncontrollably.
“I’m so sorry…” she whispered, “Are you claustrophobic, by chance love…?”
You nodded into her chest as sobs continued to pour out of you.
“Oh Sweetheart… Let me call someone to get us out of here, mkay?” She offered soothingly.
You sniffled, backing away slightly and nodding. As Larissa nodded and got on her phone, you fell to the floor against a wall. Your tears wouldn’t stop streaming down your face and you’d started stimming with your hands again.
As soon as Larissa had called the right people, she was right next to you once more.
“I’m so sorry, Darling…” she softly whispered, holding you as she had sat on the ground herself, “I did not know, I’m sorry…”
Larissa continued to apologize and comfort you until someone finally got the door back open.
“Thank you…” you croaked, as you finally exited the storage closet.
Larissa squeezed your hand reassuringly and smiled genuinely.
“Anytime, Sweetheart. Anytime.”
~~~
Larissa Weems Masterlist
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janeyseymour · 9 months
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Hii hope ur doing well x If ur still accepting requests for Mel x Reader could u do one where reader has some type of disability like chronic pain and they have a flare at school (cause they both work there) and Mel immediately runs to action and there's like Loooots of comfort etc hehe :3
I hope this is what you're looking for!
Too Late Now
WC:~4.3k
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You usually have this under control. Since your fourth concussion, you’ve dealt with the headaches and the occasional migraines easily. Doctors have been helping you and make sure that you always have your emergency migraine medication at the ready.
On top of that, it’s been seven years that you’ve been living with this. You know the when a headache or a migraine is coming for the most part. You didn’t even bother writing down on your forms when you got hired that you should technically have accommodations due to your chronic migraines. You just know how to handle them at this point. It’s part of your everyday life. 
Melissa, your girlfriend, doesn’t even know about your condition. She doesn’t need to know. You saw the way she sprung into action when you had the flu a few months ago- or when you had caught the stomach bug from the kids. After taking care of you with absolutely no complaints, she got sick both times herself. You took care of her too, much to her dismay. She was a caretaker, she did not like to be the one being taken care of.
When you wake up, you feel a little funny. But something is going around the school, as it always is around this time of year. So you chalk it up to that, and you take an Advil and an allergy pill. 
When you’re leaving, you almost have half a mind to throw in your migraine medication just in case… but you get distracted by a text from Melissa asking if you wanted coffee this morning from Dunkin.
Of course I do, you reply back.
Your usual?
Please, and thank you.
Sounds good. I’ll see you at school gorgeous.
And because of that text exchange, you forget to throw your pills in your purse and leave the house. 
As you’re driving, your headache worsens just slightly, and you groan. Allergy season was bad at this time of year, and your sinuses have been paying for it- post nasal drip is at an all time high, you’ve already had an ear infection this season, and you’ve been getting sinus headaches because of it. You don’t realize a migraine is coming on yet, so you just pop another Advil before you head into Abbott.
Your girlfriend is waiting for you in the teacher’s lounge like usual, and she almost immediately sees how unwell you’re feeling.
“Hey, baby,” she says softly as she kicks out the seat next to her.
“Hey,” you sigh, but you don’t take a seat. You just lean down and peck her lips before standing back up straight with a grimace.
She hands you your coffee with a frown. “You feelin’ okay, hon?”
“Allergies,” you say through a yawn. “I think I’m gonna go sit in my classroom this morning, but you enjoy your news.”
“Alright, hon. Do you want me to come with you?”
“I know how much you like your news,” you tell her. “I’ll be okay.” You head to your classroom, and she watches you in concern.
By the time the kids are supposed to come in, you know exactly what’s happening- a migraine is coming on. And you, like an absolute lovesick idiot, forgot your medication because you were too busy texting your sweet girlfriend. Your head is in your hands as you massage at your temples, the lights are off, the sound of the barely functioning air conditioning is making your eyes throb in pain. 
Hypothetically, you could call out now. But there’s a shortage in substitutes, you don’t think you can even think properly to create sub plans, the thought of moving from your desk makes you want to cry, and you know it’s only a short amount of time until you’re unable to drive for the next… eleven hours. You probably wouldn’t even be able to make it the drive home.
You have no idea how you’re going to survive today without your medication.
When the kids start to make their way in, you nearly burst into tears. You silently thank God that you didn’t put any makeup on today. You throw your sunglasses on as they trickle in, and you stay seated at your desk. 
You can’t teach today, and you know this. It’s going to be a day where the kids sit quietly and watch magic school bus, you take them out for extra recess, and then they can sit and work on their projects, or read and draw. You don’t care what happens today, as long as they aren’t loud. 
Again, your kids think that they have a sub until they see you sitting at your desk in the dark.
“Ms. Y/N?” one of the girls comes in and runs up to your desk.
“Hey, sweetheart,” you say softly, and even the eight year old can see the pain etched in your face.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m okay, Skylar,” you tell her quietly. “Ms. Y/N’s head just hurts, so today is mostly going to be an independent and quiet work day. Unpack and get ready for today, love bug.”
The little girl gives you a gentle hug before going to her desk and unpacking. You keep your eyes closed as the rest of them trickle in, and they’re oddly quiet. They are never this quiet. You almost always have to remind them to do their handwriting pages and do their lunch count.
When you do open your eyes to take attendance and explain to them what’s happening today, you see that Skylar had quietly taken it upon herself to write the morning routine on the board.
Morning! The note on the board reads. Ms. Y/N’s head hurts, so come in quietly. Unpack, lunch count, the next page in journal, then DEAR. 
Your heart melts, and you realize how lucky you are that your students genuinely care about you the way that they do. Skylar is over by the lunch count board writing a tally for you, and she quietly comes and slips it over to you.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” you whisper to her, and you have a small tear trail down your cheek. “Do you want me to take it to Ms. Schemmenti to put in, or should I take it down to the office?”
“I can put it in, honey,” you give her a gentle squeeze before opening your laptop. You wince immediately due to the light, but you can handle this. You can’t have her go down to Melissa’s- your girlfriend would flip her lid when she found out how under the weather you were feeling and you didn’t stay home or ask for her help. 
All of your students watch you silently. They’ve never seen you this drained. Sure, they’ve seen you sick; you rarely call out. They’ve seen you tired after a night of volunteering or staying up late to finish grading papers and preparing for them. But they have never, ever seen you this down- to the point that your skin is pale and you can’t take off your sunglasses because your head hurts so bad.
“Miss Y/N?” one of the boys raises his hand quietly, and he’s usually known for giving you a hard time.
“Yes, Cameron?”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
You just barely nod and take a shaky breath. “Here’s what we’re going to do today,” you tell them. “We’re going to do our independent work for each of our subjects today- I know we have projects and papers in all of the subjects except math. For math, I’ll have… somebody… take you outside for extra recess, and if you’re good and quiet today, I’ll put on Magic School Bus at the end of the day for dismissal. Deal?”
All of your kids nod, and you give them half a smile. Then you get a shooting pain right behind your left temple, and you quietly cry out in pain. You grip the table for a few seconds and take a deep breath before you open your eyes again. They all look absolutely terrified.
“Nobody tells Ms. Schemmenti,” you tell them as you point at them all.
They all raise their hands in surrender.
“Okay,” you sigh deeply, shakily. “Who is going to lead our morning meeting?” It’s Rayna.
When that’s over, the kids quietly pull out their social studies projects and start to work on them. When social studies is over, they quietly move on to their independent reading for fifteen minutes. And then they line themselves up silently for specials.
“Can I trust you all to walk yourselves down to the gym silently?” As you write a note to the gym teacher explaining that they are coming on their own and to just send them back down to your room when gym is over.
“I take my line leader duty very seriously, Ms. Y/N,” Jayden tells you seriously. “If we aren’t quiet, I’ll tell you.” You nod, hand him the note with the instruction to give it to the PE teacher, and they’re off.
You get approximately forty-five minutes of peace and absolute silence. You close the door, grab your coat and throw it over your head, and lay down on the back table. You’re small enough to fit if you curl up.
On your kids’ way back to the classroom, they just happen to see your girlfriend in the hallway on her way out of the teachers’ lounge.
“Where’s Ms. Y/N?” the redhead asks with a popped eyebrow. You always walk with your children everywhere.
All of the kids look at each other nervously, remembering the way you told them that they weren’t to tell the second grade teacher. But Melissa is staring them down.
“She called the gym teacher and told him to just let us walk down by ourselves because she had to use the bathroom,” Jayden tells a fib, and he hates doing it to his former teacher. But he promised you.
Melissa furrows her brows, but Jayden’s always been a good kid. “Okay… Well, tell Miss Y/N to put up another class compliment star because you’re all walking through the hallway very nicely.”
The line leader nods and takes off in the direction of your classroom, while Melissa heads towards the office to make copies.
You’ve just barely managed to get yourself back to your desk when the kids come back in, but your migraine is starting to make you nauseous, and you don’t even know what to do anymore. You won’t even be able to drive yourself home, so you just have to wait this out- at least you should get paid for it.
“We saw Ms. Schemmenti in the hall,” Omari tells you quietly while everyone else is getting out their snacks. “She said to give us a class compliment star because we were walking so nicely.”
“Nobody said anything, did they?” you ask.
“Jayden told her you were in the bathroom and told the gym teacher to just let us walk down,” your student says. “I don’t think he liked having to lie to her though… and Ms. Schemmenti didn’t really look like she believed him.”
As if on cue, the second grade teacher is knocking softly on your doorframe. She looks so concerned for you. “Ms. Y/N?”
You thank God you weren’t facing the door and have half a mind to rip off your sunglasses before standing and meeting her on the other side of the room. “Class, eat your snacks while I talk to Ms. Schemmenti in the hallway.”
“Amore,” Melissa whispers softly as she gets a look at you. “You look terrible. Why don’t you go home? I can split your class between the other third grade class and mine- not like I haven’t juggled two grades at one time before.”
“I- I can’t go home,” you mumble, and you wince at the florescent lights that aren’t out for once.
“And why’s that?”
You bite your lip. You have to admit to her just how terrible you’re feeling. She’s going to flip out and become insanely protective. She’s going to be upset you didn’t tell her about your condition before. “I get chronic migraines sometimes, and I… I have one right now.”
“Oh, hon,” Melissa whispers sympathetically.
“I usually have meds for it to lessen the pain, but I left it at my house this morning, and I think if I tried to drive home, I would throw up or black out,” you tell her honestly. “The kids have been really great this morning though, and they understand.”
“How can I help?”
“During my math period, can you take them outside? They deserve extra recess today,” you practically whimper as you close your eyes and brace yourself for the shooting pain you can feel getting ready to come on.
“Why don’t I just split the kids for the rest of the day while you lay down?” your girlfriend suggests.
“I’m here, they’re behaving and quiet, and I need to get paid,” you tell her. “They’re okay with me for everything except math.”
“Okay, sweetheart,” the redhead sighs. “But you just call if you need me, you hear?”
“I know,” you say softly. “I’ll be-” You cut yourself off with a whine and grab her arm as the pain comes. When it’s over, you relax and finish, “-fine.”
Your girlfriend shakes her head with a deep breath before stepping into your classroom. Jayden looks terrified.
“Ms. Schemmenti, I didn’t mean to lie to you,” he says quickly. “I didn’t want to, but I-”
“It’s okay, buddy,” she says softly before looking to the rest of the class. “You be on your best behavior for Ms. Y/N, and if anything happens, you come down to my room. I’ll be over during your math time for extra recess if you continue having a great day. Capiche?”
“Capiche,” your students reply, and you walk slowly into your room before putting your glasses back on and putting your head in your hands. Melissa gives you a gentle pat on the back before squeezing your shoulder three times.
Your kids finish their snack, and when that’s over they work on their research project for writing. They line themselves up silently for lunch and walk themselves down. You take up your position on your back table again, and close your eyes. You beg God to make the pain stop, and you finally give in, crying.
What you don’t know is that your sweet, sweet girlfriend is on her way to your apartment to grab your medicine. She also grabs a gatorade and your favorite hoodie (that is actually hers). She stops at Wawa and grabs you a Tasty Cake before returning to the school.
When she gets to your classroom, her heart breaks. She can see the way that you’re shaking from underneath your coat, and she has no doubt that you’re crying.
“Oh hon,” she mumbles as she makes her way over to you. She lays a delicate hand on your back and rubs up and down soothingly. “I brought your medicine, your favorite hoodie, and a Tasty Cake from Wawa. Can you take the medicine for me?”
Her kindness and gentleness just makes you cry even harder- and that only makes your head hurt worse.
Your alarm on your watch starts to go off, and you whine. “I don’t think I can do my recess duty today.”
“I’ll get the music teacher to cover it- she’ll do anything to get some of my meatballs,” your girlfriend tells you. “You just take your meds, and hopefully they kick in.”
You nod, just barely manage to sit up and take the medication and you take the hoodie and ball it up and put it under your head. 
After she calls the music teacher and arranges your coverage, she asks, “Jeet today?”
“No,” you mumble.
“Can you try to eat the cupcakes I brought?” At your nod, she opens it for you and practically feeds it to you.
“Did you eat?” you ask your girlfriend.
“Don’t worry ‘bout me,” she dismisses your concern. “I’ll get my lunch in eventually- just might be while the kids are running around on the playground for math.”
Once you’ve had one of the cupcakes, you groan. “I don’t think I can eat anymore.”
“Okay, hon,” Melissa frowns. “You know your body.”
“My body wants to sleep.”
“Well, you have another thirty minutes of recess, and you know I’ll always take your kids for you,” your girlfriend reminds you.
You nod and close your eyes. “Set my alarm for the end of recess? And if you wouldn’t mind just sending my kids here from outside for me?”
She presses a delicate kiss to the side of your head, but she doesn’t set your alarm. She fully intends to let you sleep the rest of the school day, and she’ll take your kids for you- all twenty three of them. She can handle it.
It’s not like Ava is here to tell you you can’t get paid for today. And in reality, Ava wouldn’t care anyway.
Your perfect, wonderful girlfriend picks your kids up from recess, and she has no idea how she manages this, but every single child is able to grab their belongings without waking you up. They were even able to silently move their chairs.
When you wake back up, your head is still pounding. It’s starting to ease up though. You glance at your watch from underneath your coat.
4:12 is staring back at you. School has been over for an hour…
You take your coat off of your head to see a classroom without chairs and Melissa perched on the closest desk to you, glasses on the tip of her nose and reading something on her phone.
“There’s my gorgeous girl,” she says quietly as she puts her phone away. “How’re you feeling?”
“Mel, why didn’t you wake me?”
“You needed rest. Your kids’ chairs are in my room, and I told them to just come get them tomorrow.”
“I slept at school for almost four hours.”
“And how are you feeling now?” she prompts again.
“The prescription is starting to kick in,” you mumble. “But because I didn’t take it during the onset, I mostly just have to ride it out.”
“How long do your migraines usually last?”
“Hopefully, I only have another three hours of this hell,” you tell her.
“And are you feeling okay to go home?”
“I’m shocked Mr. J hasn’t come in here to kick us out,” you grumble.
Melissa flashes you that devious Schemmenti smile. “He did. But I told him… in a non-threatening way… that we would be staying here until you woke up on your own, and I would lock up the school.” She twirls the keys around her finger. “Now, do you need to stay here to ride it out, or…?”
“I really don’t know if I can drive to my apartment yet,” you admit sheepishly. “I’m still kind of nauseous.”
“Can I take you back home, then?” your girlfriend asks you softly as she fixes your wild locks.
You nod with a groan as you sit up. You go to grab your bags, but Melissa already has them next to her and both of your things are slung over her shoulders in a second. 
“You just worry about getting your pretty little self into the car, yeah?” She presses a gentle kiss to your temple, and you know it’s all in your head, but her kiss makes you feel even the slightest bit better.
She piles your things in her car as you slowly get in and close your eyes. She gets in not a few seconds later, closing the door as quietly as she can. As the two of you are pulling out of the parking lot, you feel her warm hand settle on your thigh, and she squeezes it gently. It shouldn’t affect you the way it does- especially given how you’re feeling right now.
When she pulls in, she tells you gently to head in and up to bed. She’ll handle all of your things, she’ll be right in to curl up with you and/or nurse you back to health.
“I just have to ride it out, honey,” you remind her.
“Well, we’ll curl up together then,” she tells you. “And when you’re feeling up to it, I’ll make us something for dinner.”
“I love you,” you sigh softly as you drag yourself out of the car. You get yourself into the house and are just laying down in bed as she comes in. She changes, lays down next to you, and pulls you into her arms gently.
“Hon, I can sleep on my own,” you mumble into her chest. “I know you have a shit ton to grade.”
“I can do that tomorrow during my prep,” she whispers. “Right now, my girlfriend needs some love and attention.”
Because of her warmth and the delicate fingers that are tracing patterns on your arms, you fall asleep easily. And when you wake up, she’s still laying with you, and she’s half asleep herself. You wake up to a mouthful of red hair, and you sigh in content. Your head is no longer pounding- you think your migraine is gone. 
“How’re you feeling?” your girlfriend asks you softly, eyes still closed.
“So much better,” you tell her truthfully. “You didn’t have to stay. You could’ve had dinner or graded stuff while I slept.”
“And what kinda girlfriend would that make me, hon?” Melissa retorts. “But I’m glad you’re feeling better. You ready to eat a real meal?”
“Yeah,” you sigh softly. “After a few more minutes of cuddles?”
“I can’t say no to that.”
After a few more minutes, and a rather loud grumble of both of your stomachs, you head into the kitchen hand in hand. She starts making dinner while you go over to one of her bags and start grading the math tests she gave to her class yesterday.
“You don’t have to do that,” she tells you as she stirs the pot.
“I have to make it up to you somehow,” you say as you mark a few questions wrong.
“You can make it up to me by tellin’ me why I never knew you got migraines… and frequently enough to have the good shit prescribed to you,” the redhead says as she turns to look at you pointedly.
You frown and keep your eyes trained on the papers in front of you as you shrug.
“Y/N,” she says sternly. “C’mon.”
“Nobody really knows,” you mumble before you clear your throat. You suppose you have to be honest with your girlfriend. “After my fourth concussion seven years ago… it’s just something I got used to dealing with. I usually have them under control and can just push through them.”
“Why didn’t you tell me, hon?” she asks softly. “Or at least told me this morning when we were in the staff room?”
“I thought I was fine,” you tell her honestly. “It didn’t hit me until after I had already walked into my room, and at that point… it was too late, and I didn’t want you fussing over me for something I could’ve prevented.”
“Hey,” Melissa turns the burner down to let her sauce simmer. “I always worry about you- whether you’re sick or not. But when I saw you this morning, I knew something was wrong. You shoulda told me. I would’ve driven to your place to get your medicine sooner.”
“I was just going to tough it out,” you sigh.
“You were going to pass the hell out in pain,” she tells you. “Your kids were really worried about you.”
“I know they were… They were so sweet today and made sure they were on their best behavior for me,” you say softly. “I wish I would’ve gotten a picture of the morning message Sky put up on the board for the rest of the class.”
“They were just as well behaved for me,” the second grade teacher tells you honestly. “Although that may be because I promised them all doughnuts if they were good.”
“So… we have to leave early to pick up doughnuts for the kids?” you laugh. At her nod, you shake your head playfully. “I’m buying.”
“With whose card?” she snorts out.
“Mine, thank you very much,” you tease back.
With your banter, Melissa knows you’re feeling much better and are on your way to feeling 100 percent again soon. 
After dinner, the two of you go back to lay in bed. 
“Put a few of your pills in a plastic baggie for me to keep in my car for you tomorrow,” Melissa tells you as she pulls you into her arms again.
“Babe, I usually have them on me,” you tell her. “This was a one time thing.”
“I don’t like seeing you in pain though,” she mumbles against your head, kissing it gently. “And if I can help prevent you from crying out in pain at a small noise, I will.”
“Okay, honey.”
The next morning, the two of you show up to school with dozens of doughnuts for the kids, and yours and Melissa’s classes enjoy the treats together. They’re all thrilled to be rewarded with the sweet treat. They’re happy that they can talk in their own classroom again. They’re glad to see that you’re back to yourself.
“Ms. Y/N?” Skylar asks as she gives you a hug that morning.
“What is it, sweet girl?”
“Can you like, not get sick like that again? I’m happy we got doughnuts, but I don’t wanna have to play teacher again for you… It was hard.”
You chuckle as you muss her hair. “I’ll do my best kiddo.”
Melissa just nudges you with a smirk. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” she assures your student. 
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michverdun · 19 days
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"Y'know, I never thought I'd give up the bandit life either. Hell, back in my day I was infamous, although it was under a different name. I mean there was nobody on earth that could stop me, until I met him."
"It was a fairly regular stickup, I just needed some money after a string of bad luck, but as soon as I left that bank there he was. The sheriff was staring me down, wearing nothing but a hat and the shiniest pair of underwear, and I mean it was sparkling in the sunlight. The sight of him made me think that I lost my damn mind!"
"He started flexing those muscles of his, and now I'm guessing he was tryin' to intimidate me so that I'd surrender. I wouldn't say I was intimidated, but I did freeze. I don't think I've ever seen someone so massive in my damn life. He was flexin' muscles I didn't even know existed, like how the hell was I supposed to know some guys could spread out their back muscles like they're wings? I thought he was tryin' to fly off!"
"So, in my shock the sheriff came over and scooped me up over his shoulder and shipped me off to a jail cell. Only jail cell in the entire damn town in fact. First time I ever been caught and it was by one sherrif in a ghost town! Ooh I was pissed. I spent a good while thinkin' up a way to get out of that cell and get my revenge, when he came back."
"I definitely wasn't the nicest man to talk to at that time, but he took every ounce of venom I spit with the patience of a saint, and soon enough I'd calmed down again. I couldn't help hit he had a way of distractin' me, although anyone who could see the crotch of my jeans could easily see why. I don't know what it was but just watching that man move made my heart beat as fast as when I was runnin' for my damn life. Without even tryin' he hit my one weakness: all of those complicated feelins' I had for the men around me."
"He had to have known at that point, but he didn't say a word about it as we talked at first. He told me about his situation, where the townsfolk pushed him into being sheriff even though he didn't have to disposition for it and could barely shoot a gun, and he was just trying to do the best he could. I started feelin sorry for him, among other things."
"It was then that he tried to get me to give up my life of crime, try to make a more honest living. Even as I was runnin' on pure instinct at that point I still refused. How could he tell me to give it all up after everything I'd been through. But he kept pushin', kept treating me like a worried friend than a stern sheriff, and... Well, do you know that saying? 'All cowboys are secretly fond of each other'? Well, turns out I wasn't the only one hiding secret affections. He showed me one night too, and his... 'affection' was pretty fuckin' big too!"
"After that, it was over. If you're the sappy type you'd probably say I did it for love or something like that, but the heart of an outlaw still beats in this chest, and he sees it as simple economics. there ain't another man like him out here, and having him is worth more than anything I could ever steal. He's priceless."
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year
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For the requests: traumatized steve & eddie going to a wolf sanctuary and eddie watching steve basically live with the wolves in their area. And the one wolf,the one that hated everyone, the one who meaner and didn't get along with anyone to its cruel abusive situation (perhaps it was raised from puppyhood and onwards by people who used it in dogfighting, before it was rescued, that wolf, goes right up to Steve and sits by him. Giving him comfort. When Steve has bad nightmares he goes to that wolf's pen and they sleep cuddled together bc that wolf also has nightmares. (It can also be a wolfdog)
AS ALWAYS YOU COME THROUGH WITH SOMETHING FUN AND CREATIVE AND AS ALWAYS I MAKE IT EMOTIONAL AS SHIT!!! I was feelin' some type of way yesterday and started on this at peak emotional upheaval, which is really something I don't recommend. As many things tend to do, this got away from me and I think I could've still let it keep going, but I had to cut it off. Hope you love it!!! - Mickala ❤️
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It was Robin’s idea.
She knew therapy wasn’t working. She knew firsthand that the nightmares, especially Steve’s, were impossible to handle some nights.
She stayed with him enough after the Russians to know he was averaging four hours of restless sleep on a good night.
And now that he’d seen the horrors of the Upside Down, and Eddie almost dying, and Max almost dying, and the guilt of just existing, they were worse.
Eddie had them, but he was usually able to calm down relatively quickly, usually even fall back into a dreamless sleep after.
His problem was just seeing the bats everywhere, even when he was awake. A large bird would fly by and he was ducking for cover like a bomb would be dropped on him. He’d hear screeching, sometimes even just kids yelling at the park, and he’d have a panic attack.
Drastically different problems, but Robin said this could help with both of them.
So Steve and Eddie stood outside the wolf sanctuary, staring at the front office entrance where they were told to check in.
They glanced at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.
It’s not that they were scared. They’d been told about the process on the phone in great detail, the sanctuary director answering all of their questions in a friendly tone.
She’d said that the wolf sanctuary had been used as a form of therapy for people for years now, though many psychiatrists didn’t consider it an appropriate treatment.
Considering Steve and Eddie had been seeing a professional psychiatrist for months now with no progress and serious weight loss and migraines from their prescriptions, they were willing to give this a fair shot.
But their fear that it wouldn’t work kept circling through their minds.
If this didn’t work, they weren’t sure what else they could possibly try.
That was terrifying.
They were supposed to stay for a month, with the option of extending the stay if they felt they needed it.
It was expensive.
But this was on the US government, and Eddie was always quick to spend their money for his benefit.
Steve was just along for the ride.
They walked in together, both nervously looking around at the chairs and desks, bookshelves, pictures of wolves and mountains on the walls, and one small, gray-haired woman at the front desk.
“Oh, aren’t you two precious! Which one’s Steve and which one’s Eddie?”
“I’m Steve,” Eddie smirked as he held out his hand.
Steve smacked his arm.
“He’s Eddie, and he’s probably gonna be this way the whole time. Sorry in advance,” Steve told the woman.
“This is wonderful! You’ll be fun to have around. I’m Fran, I run the front office. I spoke to you the other day on the phone a bit about the check in. Are you boys ready?”
They both nodded.
She clapped her hands together in excitement.
Steve could tell Eddie loved her. She was full of theatrics like he was, every word punctuated by an exaggerated movement.
“First, the boring part. We did some of the first part over the phone, but these packets need to be filled out completely and given back to me. You can have a seat anywhere to do those. When that’s done, I’ll show you where to bring your bags so you can unpack and get comfortable. We can do a tour before dinner.”
She placed the packets on the desk in front of her, then took two pens out of a mug and placed them down too.
“If you have any questions, let me know. You two are just the cutest!”
She walked through a small doorway a few feet behind her desk and they grabbed the packets to start filling them out.
The first page was basic personal information, which had been filled out already. The second page was emergency contact information and how they were referred. But the third page is where it got difficult.
It has questions like “What is your worst memory?” and “Who is the person you would most expect to protect you in a life or death situation? Why?”
And while Eddie and Steve could probably answer those easily from terrible experiences, there was a lot they weren’t allowed to say.
So they just stuck with the official government stories for any and all Upside Down related parts, which was most of them.
Fran bustled back in, two steaming mugs in her hands. She set them on her desk carefully and then walked over to where Eddie was sitting.
“How’s it going?”
“Good. Almost done,” he smiled up at her.
“And you, dear?” She asked Steve.
“Good. I’m sorry I write kind of slow.”
Steve’s face was red, like he was embarrassed. Eddie watched as he focused on the paper in front of him, his hand moving slowly across the paper.
Steve’s concussions had a lot of lasting effects; migraines and one ear that was barely working, the occasional speech delay, and an inconvenient struggle with writing, especially if it was answering questions about himself like this.
Eddie distracted Fran as he wrote his last answer, talking to her about her favorite part of the sanctuary and how long she’s been working here.
He handed the packet to her when he was done, glancing over at Steve to see he was just starting on the last page.
“Hey, Fran, would it be okay if you helped me get our bags from the car while Steve finishes up?”
Steve sent him a grateful smile as he continued answering the questions on the paper.
As he walked with Fran to the car, she touched his arm.
“He’s got a lot going on, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah. He’s been dealing with this a lot longer than I have,” Eddie smiled sadly at her, touching her hand to accept the comfort she was giving and give some in return. “I hope this works for both of us, but I’d be happy as long as it works for him.”
“You care a lot about him.”
It wasn’t a question, and her tone wasn’t judging, but Eddie could just tell. He should panic, he should tell her it wasn’t like that. And it wasn’t for Steve.
But he’d been hiding it for so long, and somehow successfully, he couldn’t lie to her.
“I love him. He doesn’t know how much. I did this for him, mostly. I mean I want it to help me too, but I know he wouldn’t have tried this if I didn’t come and he,” Eddie sighed. “He needs this. He can’t keep going like he has been.”
Fran pulled him into a hug and he did all he could not to start crying.
“He’s lucky to have you on his side no matter what, darling. And I’d bet anything he thinks the same of you,” she said softly.
“I don’t think it’s quite the same. He loves me like a friend, but he’s not…not like me.”
Gay. He wasn’t gay. Or even a little into men. Eddie was sure of that.
Fran pulled away and just smiled at him.
“Okay, then. Let’s get these bags inside.”
They managed to bring everything in in one trip, and by the time they made it back inside, Steve was done with his packet.
“Alright!” Fran clapped her hands together in excitement. “To your room!”
Eddie’s eyes widened.
“Room? Like, just one?”
“Yep! The other room we have for long-term residents is already taken for the next few weeks. Will that be okay?”
She was smiling innocently at Eddie, who knew she knew why he was suddenly panicking.
“That’s fine. We end up sharing a room all the time, right, Eds?” Steve asked as he grabbed his own bags from the floor.
“Uh. Yep. Totally fine.”
“Great!”
She led them out the back of the front office, down the sidewalk that led to a row of small buildings.
“This first building is storage. The next one is the short-term stays, usually people who donate frequently to keep us running, staying for a night or two to see where their money goes. This next building is for long-term stays. That’s you two. It’s split into a duplex, so you’ll have basically a studio apartment in there. Kitchen, bathroom, living area with a sectioned off area as the bedroom. You each will have a key, but keep in mind that the director also has a key for emergencies. The janitorial staff only goes if requested, so let me know if you feel it needs a sprucing up or you need new sheets or anything. Fridge is stocked and gets restocked every two weeks.” She paused as they made it to the steps to the building. “Oh! We don’t technically have a curfew for the guests. You’re adults and we trust you on your journey here. But we do ask that you try to be back no later than 11, as we often shut off many of the trail lights by midnight to ensure the animals have the closest replica of the wild as possible.”
Steve and Eddie nodded, eyes wide at all the information being thrown at them so quickly.
“Your room has a phone of course. You’re free to use as often as you’d like. Pressing 1 gets you in touch with the front office, 2 is for security, 3 is for the director’s office. I recommend calling the front office unless it’s an emergency so we can get in touch with the right people for you. After your tour, you’ll have free reign over the entire sanctuary except for anywhere marked employees and volunteers only. That’s for your safety, of course. We encourage you to be a part of some of the educational tours and seminars that we offer to the general public as well as enjoy time on your own with the wolves. Volunteers are here every day from 9 to 5, and the employees who help care for the wolves stay until 11. We have security here 24/7, but the director usually has a couple people on staff remain after regular hours in case of an animal emergency.”
This felt a little overwhelming, but he could already tell Steve was more relaxed here than he’d been anywhere else since he met him.
“I work when they need me, but my home number is by the phone in there for you just in case you need a chat. I retired a couple years ago so I spend a lot of my time at home with my dog. You’re never a bother, okay?”
They both nodded.
She hugged them both, handed them their keys, and started to walk away.
“Your tour will be in about an hour. James is running it today. You’ll love him!”
She was gone before they could even respond, so they looked back to each other and shrugged before heading inside.
The main door was unlocked, but the door inside marked with a “2” was locked. Steve unlocked it and pushed the door open.
The apartment was nice, but small, smaller than either of them had expected.
“Guess we’ll be getting pretty close for the next month, huh?” Steve joked.
Eddie’s heart was in his throat.
He could see the “bedroom” from where he stood. It was one queen sized bed. One.
“Um. Yep. Guess so. I can take the couch,” Eddie rushed out.
Steve clearly hadn’t seen the sleeping arrangement yet or he would have probably offered. He’s a self-sacrificing idiot, so Eddie had to rush to offer before he could.
“What? Why?”
Eddie gestured towards the bed.
“There’s plenty of room for both of us, dude. A month on the couch isn’t exactly gonna help with the nightmares.”
“It looks pretty cozy.”
Steve just stared at him, brows raised like Eddie was an idiot.
He was an idiot, but he didn’t need Steve thinking it.
“Eddie. Seriously. We can share a bed.”
Steve wouldn’t let him win, it’s just not who Steve was.
“Okay, okay! Let’s just unpack so we can go see some wolves or whatever.”
They unpacked in silence, Steve taking the spot closest to the door without Eddie having a choice.
Self-sacrificing idiot.
—--------------
James knocked on their door at exactly 4:00, like he’d been standing there waiting for the clock to change over from 3:59.
“Hello! I’m James. You’re Steve and Eddie?”
They all shook hands and James started explaining things quickly.
James was only a bit older than them, wearing a volunteer shirt that had seen better days, and had the energy of Dustin.
“So! I’m gonna show you the lay of the land, you can ask me questions, I can try to answer them, and then I can drop you off back here so you can eat. The first night can be a bit of an adjustment, so feel free to give me a call if you have trouble. My number is under Fran’s,” James spoke rapid-fire, but not so fast they couldn’t keep up. They were used to that, anyway.
“So to start, everything you guys really need is along this main trail.” He pointed the way they came earlier and then the other direction. “That way leads to our nutrition area for the wolves, which you are welcome to visit anytime during the day to help or feed some of the rehabilitated wolves in the building nextdoor which is the hospital. The hospital is only open to the guests staying here and employees from 12-5, just because much of the mornings are spent performing surgeries or checkups. You’re encouraged to spend time with any of the wolves there in recovery as it helps their spirits much like a person. But if you take the left at the fork in this trail, you’ll be led to other trails. The first one is the wolf enclosures, which I’m taking you to now.” He kept walking as he spoke, moving his hands constantly, big smile keeping Eddie and Steve enthralled.
“We have one specifically for the ones we’ve rescued who are still healing from injuries, and that one is off limits to everyone between dusk and dawn. Many of these wolves are relearning how to be wild and part of that is using the night to hunt. Being in their cage during those times could be dangerous. They wouldn’t necessarily eat you,” he paused to laugh. “But they may take a bite. Now! The second enclosure is where we keep Herald. You can laugh at his name.” Eddie let out a small laugh.
“Herald had a rough upbringing. He was rescued about six months ago from a traveling circus that had abused him for at least a few years. We think he’s about 5 years old, but can’t be 100% certain. He’s hesitant around all people, even the director. He can be very unpredictable, so only the director, vet, and head nutritionist are allowed in there. You’re welcome to visit from the outside anytime you’d like though! He’s shy, but it can’t hurt having people talk to him.”
James was walking pretty quickly, and if Steve wasn’t so in shape, he’d be struggling. He looked over at Eddie. Eddie was struggling a little, but didn’t want to stop or slow down.
“And the last enclosure is for the rest of the wolves. These are ones that may be reintroduced to the wild soon or who may have been rescued without injuries, but just aren’t ready to go yet. This enclosure has a few areas for public access. The first being the feeding area, the second being the petting area. The petting area is only able to be accessed when employees or volunteers are present. The third area is only for guests staying long term such as yourselves.”
James walked them through a gate off to the side of the enclosure.
“This area is my favorite in the whole sanctuary. It’s their den area. It’s not recommended to come alone, and you should always go to the petting area to meet them first, but this area is nice for anyone who wants to feel like a part of the pack.”
“We can go in there?”
“Again, it’s definitely recommended to meet the wolves in the petting area first, maybe feed them a few times to show them you’re a friend, but yes.”
“Huh.”
Eddie watched Steve’s reaction.
This was much more involved than they expected to be.
“So that’s the enclosures! The next part of this trail leads to a walking and biking trail that is a great way to see some nature without having to leave the area. It’s snake season, though, so make sure you know your snake safety beforehand and bring the provided whistle with you in case of an emergency. Volunteers and employees are always within hearing distance during normal hours and can usually respond within 3-4 minutes.”
“Could we go back to Herald?”
Eddie’s head snapped to Steve, who was looking at James with a kind smile.
“Oh. Well, sure. The only other thing I needed to show you was the trail leading to the lake, but we can go back after.”
So James backtracked, Steve and Eddie close on his heels.
They got to the enclosure with Herald, but didn’t see him.
“He likes to hide. Especially if it isn’t close to meal time, he doesn’t usually come close to the fence. His den is hidden away.”
Steve kept walking up to the fence as James spoke, Eddie watching and trying to figure out what was going on.
“Herald? You there?” Steve called gently into the fence. Wolves had excellent hearing, and he’d probably already heard them approach. “You can come say hi if you want to.”
Eddie stood next to Steve, looking out at the area in the enclosure. There was a good mix of forest and empty area, with plenty of things that were probably used as toys scattered around. He watched for any sign of movement, listened for any trotting over.
Nothing.
Steve looked incredibly disappointed, but James walked closer and gave them both a smile.
“Like I said, Herald isn’t very social and it’s nothing personal. He doesn’t even seem to like the director and all the wolves love her.”
But Eddie knew Steve. He knew that he wasn’t gonna let that shit go.
“Alright! Shall we head to the trail by the lake?”
Eddie watched as Steve sighed, but nodded.
—--------------
Steve cooked them dinner that evening, said it helped him relax and that he would feel more at home if he got into a routine.
Eddie wouldn’t complain; He loved Steve’s cooking.
He made a basic spaghetti dish, even toasted some bread and sprinkled some garlic powder on it to make garlic bread.
They sat at the small table by the front door and ate in silence.
“It’s really quiet here.”
Eddie looked up to see Steve staring down at his plate, biting his lip nervously.
“It’s kind of nice though. Peaceful.”
“Yeah.”
Eddie knew what he was worried about.
He was worried the silence would make him have more nightmares instead of less, that he’d be left with nothing to help him if this failed.
“Hey,” Eddie reached over and patted Steve’s hand that rested on the table. “I’m here, alright? You won’t be alone.”
“Yeah,” Steve agreed, only slightly relaxing back into his seat.
—--------------
The next day was relaxed.
They walked along the main trail after breakfast, happy to see Fran again and meet some new people.
They stopped at Herald’s enclosure, but still didn’t see or hear him.
Steve was disappointed, but it was hidden away when they were able to feed and pet some of the other wolves before lunch.
The wolves were all beautiful, clearly well taken care of, and even the ones still in recovery were cleaned, well-fed, and cared for by the team.
Eddie quickly had a favorite: Mabel. She was an “old woman” as the employee at the feeding area said. She was 12 years old, had been brought in from the side of the road after being hit. She had had a broken leg and many broken ribs, along with cuts that needed stitches. Not the worst they’d seen, but due to her being nearly 11 at the time, they didn’t expect her to pull through. She did though, and had quickly become known as the leader of the group. All the wolves respected her, it was clear even to Eddie and Steve. She was the first to the feeding area, the first to the petting area, and would often stand guard over the others as they went into the shared spaces.
She was light brown with gray speckled throughout, her scars visible, but mostly covered with hair.
Steve loved Mabel, too, but he still had his heart set on Herald.
Eddie wasn’t stupid. He knew why Steve was so fixated on him.
Someone who was abused and hidden away and expected to perform every day for crowds of people? Yeah, Steve and Herald had quite a bit in common.
He just didn’t want him to get his hopes up for nothing.
After lunch, they decided to walk over to the nutrition center, maybe learn something new.
It was educational, and fun, and Eddie said multiple times how much he wished actual school had been like this.
The nutritionists let them help set up all the wolves’ dinners, showing them portion sizes for each of the wolves, telling them what the wolves’ favorites were. How they celebrated birthdays for them.
It was fun. Steve even cracked some smiles throughout.
—--------------
That night was rough.
Steve had fallen asleep quickly, much to Eddie’s delight, but it didn’t last long.
Eddie was woken up not long after he fell asleep by whimpering. He glanced at the alarm clock by the bed. 10:38. Barely an hour.
He knew from experience that waking Steve up would just make things worse for him, so he gently set his hand on Steve’s side, the best support he could give right now.
It physically pained Eddie to watch Steve’s face tighten in fear and sadness, whatever his nightmare was this time painting a horrifying picture he couldn’t escape.
Steve had mentioned once that his worst nightmares weren’t even about reliving anything that happened. They weren’t anyone dying, though he had those too. They weren’t even him dying.
They were everyone turning on him, finally seeing he wasn’t worth their time or effort, leaving him alone in that big empty house just like his parents did. He said the worst part was when Robin and Eddie left in the nightmare. When they looked at him with disgust and said he wasn’t good enough for the kids, and he damn sure wasn’t good enough for them.
No matter how many times they told him that would never be true, he still had them.
Ten minutes went by, agonizingly slowly, tears falling down Steve’s face. Eddie was whispering words of comfort, hoping that somehow Steve could hear him, but knowing he probably couldn’t.
But finally, Steve’s eyes opened, the whimpering stopped, and he was no longer hearing and seeing what hurt him the most.
He sat up and wiped his eyes, but the tears kept coming and his breathing was still labored.
Eddie sat up with him, hand on his arm, thumb rubbing back and forth to keep him present.
“I think I need to walk it off,” Steve said, voice wet with tears still to come.
“Okay. Do you want me to come with you?”
Steve shook his head.
“No, go back to sleep. I’ll only be out for a few minutes.”
And as much as Eddie knew that was a lie, and knew he should probably go with Steve, he had to trust him.
He’d be safe. He had to be.
—--------------
Steve walked aimlessly up and down the main trail for 10 minutes, trying to breathe in the fresh air, focus on his surroundings.
It wasn’t working as well as he’d hoped, but it was better than staying in bed and letting Eddie see him like this.
Eddie was too kind, always. He was bright, like the sun and the stars and the moon on a clear night. He was everything. And if Steve let himself be too vulnerable, too much, Eddie would take that light.
He lost track of where he was going, his breaths coming in sharper pants now as he let more tears fall.
A noise made him freeze.
Leaves rustling.
He looked up to see Herald’s enclosure in front of him. And…
Herald.
Herald was huge, much bigger than any of the other wolves they’d seen so far. He was beautiful. Scars along his legs showing that he had been abused awfully before coming here, but the rest of him glowed with health. He was standing about eight feet from the fence, trying to hide some of his body still behind the bushes along the forest line.
Steve slowly made his way to the fence, his hands up to show he wasn’t going to cause any harm.
Herald didn’t come closer, but he didn’t back or run away either.
Steve counted that as a win.
He instantly slumped to the ground at the fence, his hands and head resting against the chain links like they were the only thing keeping him upright. Maybe they were.
Steve closed his eyes.
He was so focused on staying calm, he couldn’t hear Herald approach. But he suddenly felt a cold, wet nose against his head.
He didn’t panic, he didn’t want to scare Herald, but he realized suddenly that his fingers were very much easily accessed by sharp teeth.
He let Herald sniff him, then slowly looked up.
Herald was tilting his head at him, almost as if he was asking if he was okay.
That made Steve sob.
Herald jumped slightly, but then moved so he was completely against the fence, laying down so his warm body could be against Steve’s.
Steve slowly let his hands fall, reaching through the fence slowly to let them rest in Herald’s fur.
He felt the wolf sigh, and he couldn’t help but laugh.
“Yeah, I get it. Sometimes it’s nice to have someone care, huh? You’re so soft,” Steve whispered, knowing Herald was still not completely relaxed around him.
“You tired?”
Steve felt a little silly for asking a wolf a question, but he felt even sillier when he realized Herald had just moved his head up and down. It was probably a coincidence, but the timing was crazy.
“Me too. We should get some sleep.”
Herald huffed and rolled his head back against the fence.
“Want me to stay?”
Herald huffed again.
“Okay.”
So Steve stayed.
He sat down on the ground, back against the fence, and listened to the crickets and the steady breaths of Herald.
He was woken up by Eddie shaking him and a growl coming from behind him.
“Steve! Jesus, I thought you’d got lost or died or something.”
“How long have I been out here?”
“It’s nearly two in the morning!”
Herald was growling behind him, protectively pacing behind Steve like he would find a way to get through the fence if Eddie tried to hurt him.
“Hey, Herald, it’s okay. This is Eddie. He’s here with me. He’s my friend,” Steve said calmly, holding his hand through the fence so Herald could sniff him and see he was okay.
“Steve! Get your hand out of there. He isn’t friendly, remember?”
“Oh, please. He just slept by me for hours and let me hold his fur like he was a stuffed animal. He’s plenty friendly.”
Eddie just stared, jaw slack, as he realized Steve was right.
Herald was licking Steve’s hand, leaving his scent on him like he was trying to provide as much protection as possible.
“You made friends with the only wolf here who hates people. Unbelievable.”
“Hey, be nice. He just needs some love is all.”
Eddie nodded. Yeah, him and another person with a name that started with S and rhymed with sleeve.
Eddie’s heart had been racing for the last 15 minutes since he woke up and realized Steve wasn’t in bed next to him or anywhere in the apartment.
He finally took a deep breath, balling his shaking hands into fists and stuffing them into the pocket of his hoodie.
“We should head back inside, Stevie.”
Steve seemed to notice Eddie wasn’t doing so great.
“I’m alright, Eds. Hey, look at me.” Eddie looked at Steve’s face, the way he seemed more relaxed than when he first left after his nightmare. “I’m okay. I must have fallen asleep.”
Eddie took a deep breath, resting his head against Steve’s shoulder as he let it out.
“I thought you were gone.”
“Nah, you can’t get rid of me now.”
“No?”
“Nope. Herald and I are just good friends, but you’re still-” Steve cut himself off, but Eddie wasn’t going to let that pass.
“What?”
“Nothing. Not important.”
“Yeah it is. Tell me.”
Steve seemed nervous, and Herald must have sensed it because he let out a low growl.
“It’s just that you mean a lot to me. Kind of everything, actually.”
Eddie couldn’t breathe.
What did that even mean?
Steve’s hand was suddenly in his hair, playing with the ends the way Eddie did when he was nervous.
“You’re just. I mean, how could you not mean the world to me? You dropped everything to come here with me because you knew I wouldn’t do it alone, Eds. You bring me candy at work even though I literally have access to all the candy I want at the counter. You let me find reasons not to watch the scary movies on movie nights when Dustin picks because you know I can’t handle them. You swim in the pool with me alone so no one knows how much I still hate it. I…you’re just…”
Eddie didn’t let him stutter any more, knowing what he was saying without actually saying it.
He knew what Steve was afraid of, and he wasn’t going to let him be scared anymore.
“Steve. I love you. That’s why I do all that. I love you. I’m in love with you. You deserve more than what I can give, but I can keep giving you all of the love I have, and hopefully that will be enough.”
Steve’s lips were on his before he finished speaking, teeth clacking together at the force of it.
Herald huffed, but they didn’t stop. Eddie didn’t know how he was supposed to now that he had Steve’s lips on his.
He never wanted them gone.
His hands reached up to Steve’s neck, cradling his jaw between them as if he was holding something precious. He was.
“I love you so much,” Steve said against his lips, melting against Eddie.
“I love you, Stevie,” Eddie said back. He planted another soft kiss to his lips before resting their foreheads together. “Let’s go back to bed, okay? We can come see Herald after breakfast.”
Steve nodded and turned to Herald.
“I’ll be back. Don’t hide from me, okay?”
He reached in to give Herald’s head a scratch, and Eddie shook his head in disbelief.
It took less than 48 hours for Steve to have the one wolf in this sanctuary who didn’t like people completely wrapped around his finger.
But Eddie could relate.
Steve’s charm was damn near impossible to resist and now he didn’t have to try.
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xxaraaq · 1 year
Text
𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙣'
masterlist
Sypnosis | Onyakapon didn't get the childhood he deserved, but he doesn't see it. You do, and you want to help him. But how you do that if you won't let you?
wc | 4.7 k
c.w | hurt/comfort ig, talks of abusive childhood, breakdowns ig
Onyakapon x black! reader
A/N | Hey y'all, I'm sorry that I havent posted in so long so I hope this can make up for it. I love y'all and I hope you enjoy
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If you asked about the of childhood Onyankopon had, he would say, “It was normal, nothin’ really special bout’ it.” And in his eyes, he was telling the truth. But from yours? You knew from deep in your soul that it was anything but normal. 
He never got to be a kid who could come home and feel safe. He was the kid who out past when the street lights came out, for he knew that if he came home too soon, he would have to face the consequences.
He was the kid who got pulled from class to talk about his home life. He was the kid who could be the sweetest thing until you brought up his cuts and bruises. He was the kid who wasn’t taught how to handle his emotions correctly; instead only learning from his surroundings on how to feel nothing but anger. He was the kid who would throw chairs and push kids off swings at recess. He was the kid who didn’t get a savior when he needed it. He was the kid who needed to be taught how to live the way any functional person would.
He was a kid that needed to be loved.
So when he grew from a kid to the young man he is now, he struggles. He doesn’t know how to process his emotions the way an adult should. He doesn’t know how to do anything besides concave on himself or push his emotions until they boil to the surface.  He doesn’t know how to just let someone love him the way he deserves to be loved.
But when the two of you met, you saw through it all. You saw that beneath all the cold stares, anger, and rough exterior, he was a just little boy who needed to be loved and taken care of; who needed the love and affection he didn’t get in his biggest time of need. And so you give it to him. All the kisses, hugs, and assuring words he so needs. You give all of it to him. But sometimes he can’t see how deeply the things that have been done to him affect him so deeply, and those are the times that he reverts back to his old ways.
“Y/n, I said it’s fine. Now chill the fuck out, you really startin’ to piss me off.” 
You freeze, staring at him at shock. You know that he tended to divert the conversation when he felt as though the confrontation was building too high. But to straight up shut it down? You didn’t have the patience to deal with that bullshit.
“What is your problem? Why do you always shut the conversation down when you don’t want to talk anymore? Why do you feel so entitled to do that? You're not the only one who’s feelin’ some typa way.” You frown. You’re not one for any type of confrontation, shying away from it if possible, but the way your boyfriend has been acting really sets you off. And the thing that bothers you the most is that he wont talk to you about it.
“Didn’t I tell you to leave me alone? This conversation is done because I said it’s done. That’s it.” He says, glaring at you like you're a stranger.
“Why do you always do this? Why won’t you fucking talk to me? I am here, ony. I am here for you everything; why can’t you see that? That is what I’m here for, so I really can’t understand why as soon as you have a fucking problem you act like I’ll leave you if you come to me about it!”
He just stares, not knowing what to say. If he’s being honest, he knows that you’re there for him. You’ve shown him again and again that you love him with all your heart, shown him that you’re not going to leave. 
But he’s scared.
He’s scared that if he tells you, you’ll leave him for being vulnerable, for being weak. He’s scared that if he shows you all of him, you won’t like it. He’s scared that if he gives you his heart, all of it; that you’ll throw it away.
So he just stares at you, he stares as his eyes start to well up with hot tears, as his throat closes and and his shoulders start to tense. He stares until you notice him crying, rushing to his side as a choked, painful sobs racks through his body.
You hold him as he cries into your arms, accepting your warm embrace. You rub his back as you sniffles and hiccups as you rock the both of you. You don’t even notice when you start crying, wiping the tears away as you focus on comforting the man in your arms. You tell him that it’s going to be okay, to let it all out. You clean his face with nothing but your sleeve as you whisper sweet nothings into his ears to soothe him of his pain. On the inside, you thank your past self for following onyokapon into the room. Scooching back an inch or two, you bring the thick comforter on the two of you as you fully lay down with him on the bed.
The two of you stay like this until its silent, simply opting to bask in each other's presence. Your eyes dart to him as he speaks with a murky, rough tone. “M’ sorry for always doin’ dumb shit. I don’t know why I’m like this.” He apologizes, snuggling further into your frame. “I don’t know how to talk sometimes, I get so fuckin’ angry and I shut everything down so that I don’t say anything I’ll regret later and I’m just sorry for puttin’ you through all my shit.”
You sigh, looking down at him. “I love you, onyankopon. I want to go through all your shit with you. I want to help you, I promise you that.” You say, hugging him closer to you. “Ion’ know why, m’ really fucked up.” He snorts, playing with the hairs on the back of your neck. “Nigga did you not hear what the hell I just said?” You laugh, gently stroking his cheek.
He looks at you gently, gazing upon all your features. From the beauty mark above your left eyebrow to the way your eyes glow a gentle brown when the moonlight shines on them. “I love you, y/n. Like without all that sappy shit, I wanna be with you forever.” He says, tired eyes looking up at you. “Why can’t we have all the sappy shit? I love me some sappy shit!” You joke, sending him a faux offending look.
He huffs, shaking his head. You don’t even realize it, but you help that little boy in him feel everything he was supposed to feel when he needed it the most . You help the little boy into him feel safe, happy, and protected.
You help that little boy in him feel loved.
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-Nene
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