#oc: misery | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yanderedrabbles · 2 months ago

Text

Misery - Part Three

Based on Misery by Stephen King

Stuck in the mountains, you foolishly decide to drive through a blizzard. The man that drags you from your wrecked car brings you to his cabin and patches you up. But as the snow piles up outside, you start to suspect that your rescuer's intentions may be far from pure.

Previous Chapter

After Andy left, you managed to change out of your clothes. The flannel shirt he gave you was worn down just enough to feel cozy and the smell of his cologne still lingered 'round the collar.

You settled against the headboard and almost dozed off before he came back. He'd taken off his jacket and carried a pile of firewood in his arms. He dumped the logs in the fireplace and stood up, revealing a wife beater and arms thick with muscle. You were right about his strength - his body was just further proof of it.

"Sorry 'bout that. I should have brought some in last night but well..."

He turned to you, dusting his hands. "I got a good look at the situation outside. You might not wanna hear it but we're totally snowed in. Phone lines are down too."

"Oh. I didn't realise it was that bad."

You felt a dull sort of trepidation. Andy had been nothing but kind to you, but being stuck out in the mountains frightened you.

"Any idea when things will open up again?"

He sat down in the chair beside your bed and stretched out. For a second, the only thought in your head was how dangerous and lean he looked. His dog tags caught the light and winked at you.

"Hard to tell. We're far off the beaten path. Only folks nearby are the Roydmans and they're a good few miles off. 'Sides, snows too deep to drive through so even if they clear off the main road, we ain't getting there anytime soon."

You felt your heart sink. "Do you think I need to go to the hospital?"

He raised a brow and skimmed his eyes across your body. "It ain't looking pretty, but I reckon you can handle it."

"Hurts like hell though."

"Sorry princess, but it'll take a while for this sort of hurt to heal. Best I can do is give you something strong for the pain."

Your ankle still throbbed mercilessly and hearing him say that made you all the more aware of it. You searched desperately around the room for a distraction.

The room was much larger than you realised, with a panelled wood ceiling and big bay windows. From your position, all you could see was the sky.

It was comfortable and starkly clean. Oh God, was this his room or a guest room?

"I haven't kicked you out of your room, have I?" you asked, suddenly unsure of yourself.

He grinned and rubbed his jaw. "I reckoned you needed a nice bed far more than I did."

"Shit, I'm so sorry!" Your hands fluttered to your lips. You felt terribly guilty. "I can't imagine how much I've put you out."

He waved you away. "It gets awful quiet up here. You have no idea how nice it is to have company."

His eyes dropped to the shirt you were wearing. "Real nice."

He reached up to play around with his dog tags and you finally noticed the tattoo across his forearm.

"Semper Fidelis?"

"Always loyal."

He reached forward and let you inspect his arm. You took hold of his wrist and traced the tattoo with your fingertips. The words themselves were small and neat, but the rest of it was an intricate pattern of barbed wire that wound round his forearm.

"Did it hurt?"

"Tell you the truth? It stung like a bitch."

He was watching your face and when you looked up at him, your eyes met. Those eyes on the other end of a gun would have sent you running for the hills. You pitied the soldiers that faced off against him.

You let go of his arm and swallowed.

"When did you get it?"

He let his forearm rest next to your thigh.

"When I was deployed for the first time."

He was close enough that you caught the scent of his cologne and the sweet smell of pine from the wood he chopped.

"How did you end up in the Marines anyway?"

"I've got you curious, do I?"

You felt yourself blush. "Maybe a little."

"Hmm." He rubbed at his jaw, like he was trying to rub away a smile.

"Maybe I'll tell you about it someday. For now though, you need to take some tablets and get some sleep."

"But what about you? I've kind of colonised your bed."

"First thing you learn in basic is to sleep standing up. I'll be fine sleeping on the couch. 'Sides, I ain't the one who went crashing off the road less than a day ago."

He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a blister pack of tablets.

"These are Novril. They pack a hell of a punch, so I expect you to sleep through the rest of the day. Best thing you can do right now is rest, got it?"

"Yes sir."

He dropped two shiny white pills into your open palm.

"Good girl. Now drink up."

He passed you a glass of water from the nightstand. The tablets left a slightly bitter taste behind, but you hurt too much to mind it.

Outside, the snow started up again.

You smiled at him. "How am I ever supposed to repay you?"

He studied you for a second.

The shirt you borrowed was missing a few buttons near the top and gaped open just a little at your tits, but you were too drowsy to notice.

He grinned that slow, lazy smile of his. "I'm sure you'll think of something, princess."

You hadn't fully realised just how intimate this all was. You were wearing his clothes. Sleeping in his bed. Entirely reliant on him to take care of you.

He stood up and shook his head. "You must be hungry. Any requests?"

"Nope. I'll take anything at this point."

His eyes flickered to your chest and then quickly away. "I can make you regret that real fast, y'know."

"Come on, you can't be that bad of a chef."

He huffed and shook his head. "You just sit pretty and I'll be back."

He returned with a bowl of oats sprinkled with brown sugar. His fingers brushed yours when he handed it to you and he lingered for a second longer than needed.

"I'm afraid it's all hospital chow until you're stronger. It's too bad - I make a mean flapjack."

You played around with your spoon and then gave in. Plain oats or not, you needed your strength.

Andy was quiet while you ate, watching the snow swirl across the window.

He tugged at his dog tags again and spoke up, "Does anyone know you're out here? A boyfriend, a sibling, anyone that knows where you were headed?"

You carefully put your empty bowl down on the nightstand. With the tablets, the pain was mercifully retreating. Not gone, never entirely gone, but a tiny bit more manageable.

"No. I wanted to surprise a friend but they don't know I'm coming."

You felt unnaturally drowsy for this early in the day. He must have noticed it because he stood up and gently pressed at your shoulders.

"Lie down and I promise you'll be out like a light soon enough."

You listened to him and found your eyes drifting shut as soon as you hit the pillow.

"Y'know." Your voice was muffled by your pillow. "You're a really great guy."

"Thanks, but save that until after you're better, yeah?"

He pulled the duvet higher and carefully tucked it around your shoulders.

"Not a soul knows you're out here?"

You hummed in agreement. You were almost entirely asleep and barely felt the hand that drifted across your forehead, gently pushing the hair off your face.

"Just you and me, princess."

You didn't hear it, but there was a strange note to his voice. Fear, maybe. Or longing. Hard to tell, with how similar they can be.

Next Chapter [coming soon]

Masterlist

Taglist

@pleorexicz @lem-hhn @mybelovedjupiter

#he has intentions all right #and they sure ain't good #cowboy coded #yandere misery adaptation #yandere #yandere x reader #reader insert #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #x reader #yandere oc

407 notes · View notes

yanderedrabbles · 2 months ago

Text

Misery - Part Two

Based on Misery by Stephen King

Previous Chapter

The thing that brought you straight from unconsciousness and howling into the world of the living was your shoulder. In the bleary haze after you crashed, you were hurting in so many places that you couldn't have focused on an individual ache even if you tried.

It wasn't until the stranger popped your arm back into place that you realised it was dislocated at all.

You woke up with your shoulder and upper back a sharp, aching mess. You also woke up screaming.

"Easy, easy there ma'am. Hush now, you can take it."

The stranger's thick drawl was right next to your ear and you turned your head to find his hands on your upper arm.

You groaned. "I'm suffering enough without being insulted."

You tried to sit up and a host of new pains made themselves very known. You slumped back with a small gasp.

"I may look rough, but I am nowhere near old enough to be a ma'am, thank you very much."

To your surprise, he laughed. And if you weren't becoming intimately aware of your pain tolerance, you would have realised what a nice laugh he had.

"Hell, if you're this lively after I gave you morphine, I'm terrified to find you sober."

The man next to you was slowly taking shape out of the halos of light that streaked your vision. Grey eyes, that was the first thing you noticed. A kind of gunmetal grey that you would have found frightening if he hadn't been smiling.

"Oh, I've never had morphine before."

If you were hurting this much after getting doped up on pain meds, a part of you was terrified about them wearing off. A smaller part of you worried terribly about how much he'd given you. The rest of you however, was succumbing to the deep sleep that banged up bodies seem to demand.

Dimly you realised the stranger had stood up and was about to walk away. You thought of your car in the snow and your body hunched over the steering wheel, blood dripping little by little onto the floorboards.

Your hand shot out with a speed you didn't think yourself capable of and grabbed his wrist. The stranger stilled and looked down at you. Tall, that was the second thing you noticed.

"Please don't leave me."

You were falling asleep against your will and your voice was cracked with pain.

He wavered and then slowly sat down in the chair next to your bed.

"Alright then, I'll be right here. So you go on back to sleep."

Kind, that was the third thing you noticed about him.

As you fell asleep, your fingers stayed wrapped around his wrist. In that isolated cabin, with the wind driving snow down the chimney and rattling the hastily put up winter shutters, former USMC Corporal Andrew Wilkes smiled for the first time in six months.

......

Waking up the second time was much slower and a whole lot less painful.

You opened your eyes to the watery light of early morning. A thousand different aches called for your attention. To start with, your left leg was a throbbing mass of low grade suffering. Everything below the knee felt stiff and bruised. No, sharper than just bruising. You would have to take a look for yourself later.

Your ribs felt tender, like you'd gone head to head with a kickboxer who harboured a very personal grudge.

Your shoulder however, was a thousand times better than last night.

You sat up slowly, the sheets rustling quietly. Your mind felt slow and groggy - it must have been the after effects of the morphine. You heard a quiet groan and froze.

The stranger was asleep on the armchair next to you, his upper body resting on the bed. You still had your hand clasped loosely around his wrist but at some point in the night he'd shifted and now his other hand was draped over yours.

His hands were nicked with a collection of little scars and his palms felt calloused with work, but they were warm and you found yourself comforted by that.

He was handsome too, with thick blond hair and a five o'clock shadow on his jaw. A raised scar carved a crescent on his cheekbone and without realising it, you reached out to touch it.

Your fingers must have been warm because he smiled just a little before he opened his eyes.

"Mornin' ma'am."

Was his voice always so deep or was it just sleep? You pulled your fingers away from his face with a jerk.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."

He sat up slowly, rubbing his jaw with his free hand. You noticed he was wearing a courdroy jacket lined with sheepskin. For some reason, you thought it suited him perfectly.

"Ain't a bother. Besides, I'd be a damn shitty medic if I slept longer than my patient."

There was a faint clinking sound and you realised he was wearing a pair of dog tags on a chain around his neck.

"I'm Andy, by the way. Andy Wilkes."

You smiled. It felt strange to just now be learning his name, after you'd spent all night clutching onto his wrist.

"Y/N."

You cleared your throat, suddenly awkward despite your drowsiness.

"Thank you, for saving me. I would have died in the snow if you hadn't rescued me."

You looked into his eyes and then quickly away. Something about that gunmetal gray made you shiver.

"I owe you my life."

He was thoughtful for a moment.

"It was pure fate that I even saw your car way down in the trees. And good luck that I know enough first aid to fix you up."

He shrugged. "It ain't me you should be thanking."

"Still, others might not have stopped for a stranger."

He raised a brow and glanced down at the hand you still had clasped around his wrist. "How about you let me go and we call it even?"

Were you blushing? It sure felt like it, with the way your cheeks suddenly tingled. You let go like he was made of lava.

"Right. Um...Sorry about that."

He shot you a small smile. "Don't be. It was...nice."

He stood up and your half unconscious observation had been right - he really was tall. He was wearing Levi's and a pair of cowboy boots. There was a dark stain down his left leg and with a start you realised it was your blood. He hadn't even changed since bringing you here.

"You were banged up pretty bad. You should have some breakfast and then I can give you more pain medication."

You nodded eagerly. Your pain had faded a little when you spoke to him but it still throbbed throughout your body.

"And uhh..." He looked away from you and rubbed at his jaw. "I'll give you some clothes to change into."

He brought you a flannel shirt and a pair of sweatpants you felt sure to drown in. He set them on your nightstand and dragged open his first aid kit.

You raised a brow at the size of the thing. In addition to the regular bandages and disinfectant, he carried hypodermic needles, sutures and a whole host of injectable ampules. Is this how he had access to morphine?

"I used to be a medic, back when I was in the Marines." He smiled at you properly for the first time. "You're in good hands, I promise."

He put his fingers under your jaw and tilted your face towards him. You flinched as peeled back the gauze above your eyebrow.

"Let's get a good look at you - how are you feeling?"

You tried to smile and couldn't find the energy.

"It hurts."

"I'd be surprised if it didn't. This cut up here was pretty bad. You were bleedin' like crazy."

He dipped a cloth into a murky white antibacterial liquid and dabbed gently at the cut. He was close enough that you could see the pulse that beat in his neck.

"I've given you a few stitches up here. They seem to be holding fine."

"Stitches? Do you think it'll scar?"

He paused. "Maybe. But you're pretty enough that a little scar ain't gonna make a difference."

Okay, this time you were definitely blushing.

He bandaged you up again and his hands trailed down to your shoulders. From the look of him, you'd expect him to have a heavy touch, but he was careful and gentle.

"Shrug, maybe move around a bit."

You managed it, despite some stiffness.

"Good. We'll need to focus on working your shoulder a little everyday. Keep you limber as the swelling goes down."

"Yes, sir."

He tensed up for just a second before he continued.

"Any bruising or cuts you think I might have missed?"

"My ribs are hurting something awful."

"Lay down."

Good god, was he a natural at giving commands. You found yourself on your back without really realizing you moved. He lifted your shirt up and you flinched at the feeling of his hands on the soft skin of your belly.

"Take a deep breath for me."

You managed it without too much of a struggle.

"Good. Looks like it's just some bruising."

You noticed the lace of your bra peaking out from under your shirt at about the same time he did. He pulled his palm away from your waist like you scalded him and yanked down your shirt with none of the clinical professionalism with which be raised it.

He cleared his throat. "It's your leg I'm worried about."

He turned away from you to bend over your right foot, but not before you caught the redness creeping across his cheeks.

Your jeans were cut open to the knee and your ankle was a bulging monstrosity wrapped in layers and layers of bandages. He kept one hand wrapped around your calf as he worked and when you flinched away, he just tightened his grip and continued.

"It looks like a very nasty sprain. Grade 2 at least. Might take a few months to heal totally. For now though, you absolutely cannot walk on it."

He looked up at you as though to emphasise his point. "Any activity for the next few weeks will just set your healing back. Not to mention hurt like a bitch."

He sounded so mean when he swore that you dropped your eyes.

He straightened up. "From the look of things, I reckon you've bruised some of the bones in your calf too. So just keep off this leg."

"Ummm." You felt stupidly bashful with his hand still on your leg. "How am I supposed to move around?"

"Hmm. I might have an old crutch lying around here somewhere. If not, I'll just have to carry you."

He said it so damn casually, as if picking you up was the easiest thing in the world. You remembered how easily he got you out of your car and realised that to him, carrying you was just as easy as hauling wood or slinging a ruck on a march. Hell, easier maybe.

You were just a little afraid of his strength.

He nodded to the clothes he left beside you. "You try and change and I'll go and get your breakfast ready."

It was only after he'd closed the door behind him that you realised - he hadn't said anything about taking you to a hospital.

Next Chapter

Masterlist

#yandere misery adaptation #yandere drabble #reader insert #yandere imagines #yandere noncon #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #x reader #yandere #yandere oc

354 notes · View notes