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vixen7243 · 9 months ago

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Undivided Attention: Captain Price

John Price x AFAB!Reader | TF141 x AFAB!Reader

Masterlist | Gaz |Price | Ghost

MDNI!!!

You had been separated from the team, mostly due to you pushing your captain out of the way of another solider attempting to strike him, while wresting with the man the two of you fell off a ledge, last thing you heard was John yelling your name before slamming into the ground and loosing consciousness for a moment. You all had been looking for reports or a nuclear bomb that was in the midst of being sold to Russian terrorists. Coming to, you quickly moved to look around yourself remembering who you had fallen with, seeing them laying by you, you turned them over and they had fallen on their knife, impaling themselves in the throat. Shaking your head you made to get up flinching, "Fuck." Groaning you hobbled around corners, occasionally having to fight for your life, hearing a group making their way down a hall, more than you knew in that moment you could realistically handle, you made to try and hide in any of the rooms around you, but the doors were locked. Huffing you leaned behind a pillar, tears building at your eyes, even though you knew death was a guarantee with this work, your heart wasn't ready, you never got to tell any of the lads how you truly feel, you didn't get to even say good bye. John.

Oh, you know John will rot with this, his mind will never let him forget this, you wished there was something you could do for him, make your death less of a burden, a weight. He never wanted to let you come here, but you insisted, you had been growing restless at the base, promising to stay glued to their side and out of harms way yet you threw yourself right into the way. Grabbing your hand gun you checked the magazine hitting your head back, out, patting yourself down you groaned grabbing your tactical knife from your hip, waiting till they were closer. Getting a hold of the end of a AK47 you turned out knife about to go straight into the guys throat before you froze, it was, "John?"

"Y/N, oh god." Wrapping you tightly into him you wrapped your arms around his waist, trying not to wince at the force of his embrace. "Come on." Picking you up he turn and they started making their way out back to their Ronda Vue point for Nikolai to pick them up. Grunting with each rapid movement and step up some stairs, you looked up to Johnny, he looked so damn sad and worried, made you ache, wanting to comfort him, comfort all of them. Getting to the top of the building, John handed you to Simon before you were set into a seat and strapped in, "Let's go, now!"

---

You were taken to med bay by Simon, Johnny and Kyle, they stuck by your side the whole time as you were stitched up, wrapped up and given tests. Your arm was put into a sling after noticing that you had indeed broken your right clavicle you were brought into a back room to have a plate screwed to the outside of the bone. You were knocked out when the lads say you next, had been for a few hours, they never left you, John was still away, where none of them was sure, most likely holed up in his office burying himself in work and papers.

When you did come to, you reassured the guys, apologizing and hugging each of them, the door closed and locked, blinds drawn close as Simon carefully held you, kissing your head. "Where's Cap?"

"Probably in his office." Kyle said, his hands on your back and hips. Moving to get out of the bed he tightened his grip slightly stopping you. "Where r'you goin?"

"Check on him, I'm fine, truly, guys, let me go." Pushing their hands from you, you gasped as you tried to wrap your button up around your shoulders. "Shit."

"Here bon." Johnny helped you set the shirt around you, "You sure you don't want to rest a bit more bonnie?"

"I'll be fine Johnny, thank you. You guys know I've been through worse." You chuckled as you unlocked and left the room, all of them close to you, glued like guard dogs, everyone making a clear path for you. Nearing John's office you ushered them away, knocking on the door and not hearing anything you stepped in and looked around confused when you didn't see him inside. Now making your way to his room you knocked as you slowly opened the door and looked in, hearing the shower from his bathroom.

Closing the door and locking it behind you, you went to the bathroom and stood in the door frame frowning, "Captain."

His head spun around so fast you were sure you heard a crack, "What are you doing?"

"Came to check on you." Walking in some more you looked into his eyes, he looked so pained staring into you, before they went down and took in your arm and collarbone. Shrugging the shirt off slowly, you used you good arm to undo the sling taking it off.

"What are yo-"

"Help me with my shirt will you?" Stepping right into the shower with him, the water splashing off his shoulders and head hitting you, his scowl deepened, as he opened his mouth to speak you rested your hand on his cheek, "John, help me?" His hands were more gentle than ever as they guided your clothes off of you, kneeling down undoing your boots and tossing each soaked piece of clothing out of the shower.

"You should be resting." Standing back up he retracted his hands moving to make room for you under the water.

"I will, after this." Stepping back into his space, you pushed your hand into his stomach before gliding your fingers through his chest hair and then gripping his shoulder pulling him to you. "Y/N."

"Don't pull from me John, I'm fine, everything's okay. I'm sorry, truly, it's my fault, I nev-"

"Stop." Closing his eyes he tilted his head back, "You've nothing to apologize for darling, this is my fault."

"It's not your f-"

"I said you wouldn't be out on the field, I caved, you got hurt protecting me when I promised I would protect you. This should've never happened, not for me or because of me." His eyes were so broken, voice almost cracking in the end, guiding him back to you, you leaned up onto your tips gently kissing him.

"You've up held to your promise John, there's nothing you could've ever done to prevent me from protecting you. As much as you don't want anything happening to me, I don't want anything to happen to you, to any of you. As I belong to you all, ALL of you belong to me too." You used your good arm to wrap up and around his shoulders, your right arm carefully going to his waist and massaging his lower back, whatever you could comfortably reach you did.

"Darling." Leaning the both of you under the water, he kissed you, enveloping you into his arms. Reaching his hands down to behind your thighs you grabbed his bicep and jumped, wrapping your legs around his hips he leaned back, his back hitting the wall, locking his lips with yours, tongues slowly easing into the others mouth. Each moment the two of you would pull back for a gasp of breath your would continue to reassure him, claiming him, the team, telling him continuously that you belong to them, calming his nerves, kissing the anger fueled tears from his cheeks. He wasn't mad at you, couldn't ever be, he was angry at himself, your words soothing his soul.

Feeling the water start to cool against both of your skin, John slid your hips up along him a little more groaning as your slit dragged along his shaft, holding you to him he turned the water off and stepped out, grabbing a towel setting you on the counter drying you. Before he tossed the towel, you grabbed it from him and returned the favor also patting him dry smiling when he kissed along your neck, jaw, shoulders and laying gentle kisses to your collarbone. Shuddering at the soft touch you let the towel slide from your fingers as you drift your fingers into his hair lightly clenching and redirecting his lips back to yours, picking you back up he carried you to his bed, ever so carefully laying you on your back in the middle, bringing the other spare pillow he had under your hips.

As gentle as he was being you could feel the tremble in his body, unsure of if it's just being a build up of passion or something else you tried to move your hips with his, arching your back into him as your clit rubbed against the tip of his dick. "Don't move, I'll take care of you." Pouting as you watched him kiss a trail down your stomach and hip you moved your legs for him, moving your hips up the hip as his hand gently slapped your pussy making you gasp, surprised. "Darling, don't move."

"But..." Looking to the side before looking back to him, "You want more, right? I'm fine, you can take me how you need Captain."

Huffing he pushed back up, "Y/n, you're hurt."

"But I'm FINE, take me, if it gets to be too much, I'll say my safe word. ... Take me Captain." You were pushing him again, just like you had when you begged to go on the mission, his body itching as he grabbed the back side of your left knee he pushed it up to your chest slapping your cunt a little harder this time.

"You are damn stubborn sweat heart, I tell you no again and yet you keep pushing. You never want to listen, I'm trying to look out for you, why won't you let me do this for you." Slapping your cunt again a little harder again, you gasped jolting, "Begging me to just fucking take you, you'll say your safe word? What if you can't?" You clenched around nothing just before he moved your leg to the side a little more exposing your clit and slapped down making you moan, "I'll take you darling, I'll fucking take you but damnit Y/N. Why must you push me?" Pouting you looked down, watching as he lined himself up and started easing into you. "Fuck." Grunting the both of you jerked into the other panting as he slowly moved in and out of you, your slick collecting around the base of his cock.

"John." Huffing your hips started moving, meeting his, the sound of skin slapping ringing in your ears making your head spin from how much he was stretching you. Feeling his fingers dig into your hips he pushed your hips down into the pillow growling.

"No moving damnit, urgh, gonna make me lose it darling. You want to cum?"

"Yes, please, Captain, please sir." Feeling his dick twitch against your gummy walls you moaned, "Captain."

John swirled his fingers around your clit, lightly pinching it, a small twist before pushing his thumb into you drawing circles. Arching up from the bed you whined cumming, walls spasming around him, he didn't relent as he continued to riding out your orgasm. Huffing he drew your legs up to his chest, pushing down to you, he gripped your neck, squeezing the sides, "Again darling, come on." Slamming his hips down your cunt started squelching, taking each thrust you rolled your eyes back trying to arch into him and move your hips but with his weight over you, you couldn't move. Feeling him squeeze your throat a little tighter you gasped grabbing his forearm moaning, "Darling." Loosening his hold your grabbed the side of his face and pulled him down kissing him.

Breathing heavily the both of you pulled back and came, John grasping the pillow under your head pushing his forehead into yours grunting after he picked his rhythm back up, overstimulating the both of you, "Oh, John, wait..." As you whined, he pulled out, sliding you onto your left side, laying behind you, raising your leg and slinging it back and over his thigh. Taking labored breathes you moved your hips back into him moaning when he helped guide you this time rather than try and stop you, "Oh John, yes, good." Feeling his hips picked up, your body getting jostled, the sheets getting kicked and pushed to the floor, the pillow that had been under your hip also being pushed to the ground.

John slid his arm under and around you neck, putting you into a choke hold from behind, your third orgasm flooding over you, your body shaking as he didn't stop. Gasping you grabbing the bed sheet and trying to push his forearm only making him grunt, "No, you're going to stay right here, fuck. Right here, where I can see you, hold you." Scowling you tried to hold out but when your fourth orgasm was slowly building up already you felt tears prick at your eyes, your cunt felt too raw, already clenching so tightly around him, his girth stinging slightly more than the pleasure that was building. Huffing you tried pushing again against his arm, before shaking violently against his front whining patting his arm.

"Red, John, red please." Gasping you gathered your breath as he froze, his hips pushed flesh against you. Feeling him slowly pull out of you, you whined when he pulled away, collecting the blanket from the ground and the other pillow, he got back in behind you gently massaging your hips.

"I'm sorry darling."

"You did nothing wrong John, Just over stimulated a bit quick today is all." You interlocked your fingers with his smiling as he wrapped his arms around you gently.

"You're too good for me, Y/N."

"No, you are ... me." Your eyelids growing heavy, you yawned and snuggled back a little more into him before falling into sleep.

"No, you truly are, for any of us, you deserve better."

Ghost

#call of duty #task force 141 #x reader #john price #smut #18+ mdni #john price smut #john x reader #captain john price #captain price #john price x reader #price x reader #self hatred #undivided attention

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paingoes · 4 months ago

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Rubies - Trial II

hiiii. i have such a headache omg. help meeeee

(Content: living weapon whumpee, past child abuse, conditioning, dehumanization, electrocution, physical abuse, verbal abuse, bruises, broken bones, institutionalized child abuse, institutionalized slavery, (internalized) victim blaming, self hatred, retraumatization, whump aftermath)

He had still felt the chill of the ocean when they had first brought him back to base. They’d had to recast his arm for the final time. They’d spotted the broken ribs that had barely had time to heal, not helped at all with the impact he’d made into the water. The fever dreams crept all around the corners of his eyes.

After Levon had left, the nurses had made a request of him.

He did not have to stand for it, luckily. He sat up on the bed and let them undo the jacket, folding it back against his waist to reveal his bare torso.

He was so covered in bruises then that it almost looked natural on him.

The marks themselves were not the shape of anything in nature, though. Not unless you counted the handprints. Instead, they showed the imprints of rulers and rings. Whip marks. Chains.

They really tried to be respectful as they aimed the camera at him.

Two and a half months later, in the new and sterile room, all the bruises had faded. It was the longest he’d ever gone without them. There was still a tenderness in his ribs, but it felt more like a phantom pain than anything real. The cast had finally come off of his wrist — and he appreciated the new dexterity it afforded him.

He sat on the white floor and watched Kitty hesitate for a long while with her rook.

He was not allowed outside of his room, but he could have her inside of it. He’d had Apollo there too, but from what he understood, the medic had immediately been thrown back into clinical rotations. Kitty’s role in IT afforded her much more free time. She’d spent most of her absence working too, so there was no real change in their schedule.

She put the rook down indecisively, but seemed to tire of the game. She glanced back at the door, furrowing her eyebrows at the lock placed upon it. She folded her fingers up beneath her chin.

“This whole thing is a waste of time.”

The anger in her voice caught him off guard.

“I’m sorry,” he said, drawing his hand closer into his lap.

She looked up in surprise, a bit of guilt seeping into her expression.

“I’m not mad at you,” she clarified, “You didn’t do anything wrong. That’s the thing. Levon knows you’re innocent. You shouldn’t have to go through all this.”

He didn’t really feel like he had been through anything, but he didn’t argue with her. He processed the words slowly, trying to work around the irritation in them. It still made him antsy.

“Hey,” she spoke gently, trying to draw his attention back, “I’m not mad at you. You’re not in trouble.”

“Okay,” he conceded, “Sorry.”

He moved his bishop to put her in check. She sacrificed the knight in the king’s stead. Before he could capture it, a voice sounded through the buzzer, directly on the other side of the door.

“Maryam Pike. Can I come in?” It crackled through the static.

Kitty gave Delta a concerned look. He blinked, unsure what she was waiting for.

“Do you want her to? You don’t have to let her into your space,” Kitty said.

He shrugged. She was just doing her job. There was nothing he could really do to avoid questioning, anyway.

Kitty stood up from her spot on the floor, stalking over to the entryway. She opened it up.

“Does it have to be here?” She asked Maryam, “It’s his room.”

The older woman shrugged just the same.

“His choice. I have the office too, if you want to take the hike.” She glanced over Kitty’s shoulder, addressing Delta. “You want to get out for a little bit?”

He did, actually.

They were back around the table. Apollo was absent this time, but everyone from the council was still in attendance. Levon leaned against the back wall casually, sorting through the folder he’d been given. His expression was unreadable.

They knew how impossible it was to get Delta to speak in front of people. He had his gaze all the way down even as he sat at the table. It was too difficult to try and have him give testimony. They’d had to resort to other ways.

Maryam slid the cassette player into the center of the table. She looked at Delta, giving him a final chance to amend it. He had nothing to add.

He still cringed to hear his own voice play over the tape.

[

Q: What is your earliest memory?

A: …I was playing with a baby pool, filled up with all these little fish. The staff were asking me if I could move them around, but without using my hands. It took hours, but eventually I could focus enough to push them around just by thinking about it. I made them swim upside down.

Q: Where did this take place?

A: One of the lower levels of the Institute. It was one of their wet labs.

Q: What were your parents like?

A: I never knew my parents, ma’am.

Q: How did you feel about other children your age?

A: …Indifferent.

Q: What is the primary emotion you associate with your childhood?

A: …I don’t know, ma’am.

Q: What were the rules at the institute you grew up in?

A: No running. No fighting. No talking back. Be respectful when addressing a superior. Wait for explicit permission before using your powers. Take your medicine as prescribed.

Q: When you were a child, did you ever make any attempt to escape or to disobey your handlers?

A: Never to escape. And I never, um. Never intentionally disobeyed. But by accident sometimes, yeah.

Q: By accident? What did you do?

A: …I was getting fussy one day after drills. There are these kind of growing pains you get if you move up a new level — and I was getting them really badly that day, and I guess I was lashing out too much. I wasn’t really listening.

Q: And what happened?

A: Got some warning shocks. When that didn’t work, they. Um. Increased the voltage until I was ready to listen.

Q: To clarify, are you saying they electrocuted you?

A: Yes, ma’am.

Q: Did this happen with any frequency?

A: Not to me.

Q: Not to you? What does that mean?

A: Not to me, ma’am. It happened to the other students a lot more. I didn’t need as much correction, ma’am.

Q: And you witnessed this “correction” personally?

A: Yes, ma’am.

Q: How frequently did this happen?

A: In the first years, it was multiple times a day. It didn’t happen as often later on. A lot of the problem students had already been eliminated from the program at that point.

Q: I see. And you never once attempted escape?

A: No, ma’am.

Q: Why not?

Q: What was that?

A: I didn’t have anywhere else to go.

]

The tape clicked off. Delta folded his hands in his lap.

“We also have testimony from other alumni of the Beldam Institute,” Maryam declared, though Delta disagreed. You couldn’t be an alumnus if you didn’t actually graduate. She’d gotten testimony from the drop-outs. It’d been edited into a neat and digestible format, though to him it seemed a bit hokey.

Levon pulled it up onto the projector, his expression still unreadable.

The woman in the video was in her mid-20s, which meant she hadn’t been there from inception, and that she hadn’t stayed long. She said as much in the video. She was a kind of lightworker - lasers, burns, flash bombs. She’d been transferred to the Institute out of foster care.

“-would’ve been unethical to have adults working those hours. 16 hour days — and there were younger kids there than I was, ones that needed like ten hours of sleep, and they never got it. I don’t think I had a single moment of free time while I was there. The amount of-“

“-and of course they hit the kids. Where I went, at every house I’d been to, they hit the kids. That was nothing new to me. But they had the kids hurting each other. And these were untrained psychics who were still learning to use their powers, they didn’t know their own strength. And they were learning to use it on whoever was lower in the hierarchy than they were. Some of them would get messed up bad. One time-“

“-said pack your shit, get out. I didn’t have any more value to them anymore. I had been fucking gifted. And they just burnt me out like I was nothing. Glad they did, though. The only way kids ever left that school was burnt out or in a body bag. I still haven’t-“

There was no footage of the Institute. No cameras had been allowed inside except by licensed professionals. What they did have were the scans of the old photo books. Delta recognized the backgrounds so clearly, even though it’d been years since he had stepped inside. He felt only some dull recognition for the children in the photos — there’d been too many to keep track of. He’d never cared for them much anyway.

He felt the air in the room stiffen as the pictures got progressively gorier. Training accidents. Wrong dosages. The stripes they’d whipped into the backs of the worst kids. He wondered how much of his survival had been pure luck. He hadn’t known just how mismanaged it’d been at the time. Though he did have inklings.

“It’s clear the defendant was raised in an environment in which his every move was controlled under threat of severe physical punishment or death. His surroundings instilled a sense of learned helplessness within him. From an earlier age, he has been made to feel he has no option but to obey. Due to that conditioning, we can reasonably say that any exhibit of his powers has been under duress. It’s absurd that he should be held legally or morally responsible for his actions.” Maryam had a practiced cadence, especially on such short notice. She looked at nobody and nothing in particular when she did it. Levon watched her like a hawk.

She took a deep breath.

“There’s evidence this coercion continued beyond Beldam Institute.”

She switched between files on the computer. A new screen filled the projector.

“Hold,” Levon held a hand up, “Delta, you don’t have to be here for this. You can take recess.”

She couldn’t get him to talk about Paris. It’d been a no-go. His chest tightened up whenever he tried. The questions made him dizzy.

She had other ways, though. She was surprised she’d managed to dig them up. There’d been so few photos or videos of Paris anywhere. By now, the videos of his time on-the-run far outnumbered any from his reign. He couldn’t imagine how much effort it must have taken her to find this one.

He shook his head. He didn’t see any reason to, did not want any reputation for sensitivity. Keyglades didn’t even stand out as one of the bad ones, anyway.

“I’m okay, sir,” he said softly.

The video began to play.

It had sound.

Paris’s voice cut through the white noise. It was distant, grainy with analog. Still, Delta felt his ears perk up, immediately rapt. Unable to pry his attention away even if he had tried.

He could pick up on the irritation from the first syllable. The tape showed surveillance footage a hallway within Keyglades’ city hall. It led away from the main conference area and twisted up into the further reaches of the government building. Delta had been pretty sure at the time it was restricted territory, that they shouldn’t have even went that far.

Paris’s speech had risen to the rapid-fire pace it always took when he was pissed. Delta swore he worked himself up just for sport sometimes. Paris didn’t want a solution, he just wanted to be mad. He should’ve known better than to interrupt.

On the tape, Delta’s voice was low enough that the exact words were indistinct. But the sound of the ringed hand coming down hard against his face had been picked up in crisp resolution.

“You think I don’t fucking know that?!”

It had caught him off-guard. It seemed to catch the others in the room off-guard now, some of them visibly flinching at the abruptness. In the tape, he had reeled, though he did not have long to do so. Paris’s hand caught on the loose fabric of his shirt collar and slammed him into the wall. His grip moved upwards, onto his neck. Tight and uncomfortable, but not actually choking. Just meant to hold him there. Make sure he couldn’t avoid it.

“It’s not about the fucking tax, it’s about the principle. That’s all it ever is with these people. Can you stop acting like you know better than me? There’s a reason nobody fucking asks you. Who the fuck even gave you permission to speak?”

Delta frowned, looking down as if he was getting scolded in that same instant. It had the same effect. He tucked his legs further beneath the chair, shielding them. In the tape, Paris pushed him to the floor — not a hard thing to do — and stomped down on his wrist. It was too mild for him to really consider a beating, but some blood had dripped from his mouth while he was on the floor, which is probably why she’d chosen it.

Maryam cleared her throat.

“Would you say there was anything exceptional about this event?”

It took him too long to realize the question was directed at him. He knew they were all looking at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up from the floor.

“No, ma’am.” His hands balled up in his lap.

“And was this an atypical occurrence?”

“No, ma’am.”

“How often would you say you experienced this level of violence?”

That level, specifically? That much was hard to quantify. It depended on how quickly operations were moving, how much the plan was working, how badly he’d fucked up. He’d like to say he had a good track record when it came to his powers. He aimed to please. The worst of it came when he didn’t. He would have answered monthly if he’d been asked how frequently he was actually beaten. Those were the standout ones, the ones that left him sore for days afterward, the ones he most thought of as deserved. Well, justified. He deserved all of it.

But the tape hadn’t shown a severe beating. That kind of pettiness came much more frequently. Weekly, he guessed. Biweekly if things were going well. The other kind of biweekly if things were going poorly. If he counted the smaller things — the shoving, the hair-pulling, the grabbing — he would have said almost daily. But he didn’t count those.

“Weekly, ma’am.” He didn’t let his uncertainty show in his voice. He couldn’t pose it as a question; it wasn’t something they could answer. Weekly was a good enough approximation.

He saw Kitty’s eyes narrow dangerously. Her claws carved lines into the woods of the chair from gripping it so hard.

“This caused significant injury, as evidenced by the condition he was in when he first came to Galatea.”

The screen clicked abruptly to the photographs the nurse has taken just before she’d cast his arm. There were several of them, taken from different perspectives. The broken angle his wrist was held at. The thick, dark bruise against his ribs where they’d been kicked in. There was a whole litany of other bruises along his arms and neck. Handprints, implements. Nobody could argue they were obtained in combat. None of the photographs showed his face.

It was his first time seeing the full mosaic. He’d avoided the mirror whenever he could while it was happening. He remembered how badly he did not want Simon to see them, to have the proof of his failures be written out so clearly on his body. It felt a million times worse for Levon to see him like that. He wanted to apologize. He’d promise to do better, if he was allowed to. His lip bled from how hard he was biting into it.

The bruises were bad. Each of his separate ideologies burned in his brain, building and fighting each other. He’d failed. He’d earned it. Paris was fucking crazy. He’d never be able to please him. He’d deserved it. He was supposed to be better than this. He deserved worse.

Kitty’s hand brushed against his. He flinched, but forced himself not to withdraw it. Too well trained to pull away. She seemed to pick up on this as she drew her own hand back.

“Where are you?” she whispered. He couldn’t answer.

When he looked up again, Levon was staring straight at him, not at the bruises on the screen. As soon as they made eye contact, Levon looked inconspicuously to his watch.

“Think we’re gonna call it for today,” he announced.

He’d expected to return straight back to his room afterwards, but nobody escorted him. Kitty led him through the airy hallways instead. This section of the building was made mostly of glass and white tile.

“I swear this is their best kept secret,” she said as she pushed open the outer doors.

They entered into the bio-pond. The algae green ambiance contrasted sharply with the tidiness of Galatea’s interior. Despite her claim, a few other people drifted around the edges, absorbed in their own work. They didn’t pay the pair of them any mind.

It was the first time he had stepped outside all week. The damp air was suddenly much easier for him to breathe. She sat him down by the edge of the pond. A row of turtles sat on a log in the center of the water. The grass was soft, slightly damp. It felt cool against his palms.

Kitty leaned forward over the water, pointing out the fish that lived inside of it. He saw her claws poke out like she wanted to snatch them straight from the water, but she held herself back.

He didn’t speak. Subconsciously, he tried to shield his arms, covering up the bruises from her sight. Of course, they weren’t there anymore. And when they had been, she’d seen them already.

He didn’t know how long they stayed there, but he saw the sky slowly fading to purple by the end of it. The mosquitos were starting to bite.

“Why don’t you hit me?” He’d asked when he finally had to return to his room. She went in with him, just for a little while, until she had to go back to her own. His head had drooped a little when he asked in, in its exhausted state.

“Whyyy would I hit you?” She asked instead, hooking one finger around his. This time, he didn’t flinch, felt no urge to withdraw it.

Because he was difficult, more needy than he’d been in years. Because he was evil, because he deserved it. Because she could. Because everyone else always had.

He shrugged.

“Never,” she promised. She brought his hand up to her lips, kissing it gently.

His chest ached.

~~~

tags:

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@lordcatwich @human-123-person @paperprinxe @whomeidontknowthem @chiswhumpcorner

@bacillusinfection @dietofwormsofficial @ichortwine @whump-queen @lumpywhump

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