I love the idea of small-town brown bear shifter John Price and a new resident spotted doe reader who is a horticultural technician and now runs the plant nursery on the outskirts of town.
Thinking about how, customary to bear courtship rituals, Price would stalk around the Doe, make sure she was safe, (without her knowledge of course) he would scent the trees surrounding her workplace, and when he found out they lived in the same neighborhood? Her whole property smelt strong of bear.
Of course, stupidly, he didn't consider how terrifying that would be for a Doe. Predator and Prey dynamics in hybrids weren't as strong as it might be in nature, but that didn't mean an overwhelming bear scent following her everywhere wasn't terrifying.
The deer had come to this town for a reprieve. She lived in the city where it was bustling, and there was nowhere for her to graze or two into any instincts. She didn't even know any other deer in the city she lived in, just birds, dogs, cats, rodents, etcetera. She just wanted to be a deer in peace.
She would think that this bear was trying to run her out of town. She didnt know why, just terrified of running into this bear face to face.
Johns attempts of courtship weren't working, and now he was just interested. He started asking every cervidae creature in town. What were the courtship rituals for a deer? What was customary for her?
Almost everything he was told either crossed over with what he was already doing or had to do with antlers. He doesn't have antlers. What does he do?
And so he took the human approach. He spent two or so days prepping his backyard to house a variety of fruits and veggies. He generally wasnt a fan, but deer were so he may as well be prepared. Once he had a garden made, he took his truck down to her nursery.
He waited down the road for almost an hour for her shop to open, but he could smell her, putting around in the actual greenhouse. When the time hit '10', he began driving into the property.
A bell jingled as he opened the door, and he was met with the smell of his deer, and also the most exquiste, earthy, sweet smells from all the flowers and fruits. Nobody was behind the counter, and John took the opportunity to look around.
"Ill be out in a minute!"
He saw daylilies, pansies, violets, morning glory, grapes, lettuce, spinach. All flowers and fruits and veggies deers liked. There were some other plants he didnt know the names of, lots, actually.
When the doe finally came to the counter, she tensed, and her smelt went sour. "Please i just want to live here in peace." The adrenaline pouring off her body almost made Price want her more.
"Relax, sweet'art. Not trynna run you out of town. Quite the opposite, actually." He took a cautious step forward, with his hands up for effect. "Smelt your sweet scent as soon as you entered town." Maybe it was still just her fear waring to shock, or maybe she was starting to understand the situation.
When a male meets their mate, they can smell them, and other males can sense the difference, but the frmales dont. They can't scent a male until the male nips their scent glands. This was something eugenics produced over years of women dying before breeding age due to an overwhelming amount of scents or alphas trying to claim them.
(This is not to say females can't smell a male generally, just not as deep and harsh. For example, doe can tell that there's a strong bear following her, she doesn't know he's her mate)
The deer started to become antsy, nervously shaking her fingers and swaying from side to side. "Come on now, dearie," the irony wasn't lost of Price either as he stepped even closer to the counter. "I know you start cleaning up at 6. I'll be coming back then, and we can have a nice dinner at Joanie's and talk about our situation."
It wasn't a question. It wasn't an invitation. It was firm command. She'd be taken out on a date by her grizzly bear mate, whether she wanted to or not.
summary✄ you and joe grew up together, best friends since kindergarten. you fell in love, getting into a relationship when you were 16. but when you got into a petty fight and broke up, he tried to move on, and you went missing
wc✄ 2k
warnings✄ mentions of religous trauma abusive relationships manipulation cult like themes mentions of child abuse mentions of sa / csa lmk if i missed anything
notes✄ i know that technically ethel went with Isiah willingly, but I think the narrative of being forced into his truck fits better for this. this kinda has different snips of the backstory that will be more explored in the other chaps this first chap will be shorter, but the rest of them will be longer (for the tweets, I'd didn't want to put like arlington police bc I didn't know if it was like bad to do)
masterlist♱
ethel cain masterlist♱
it was the first day of kindergarten, you walked in all alone. every other kid had their mom or dad holding their hand and guiding them in. but you didn’t
you stood in the corner, watching everyone make friends and the adults talk. everyone seemed to get along perfectly. except for you. the parents gave you pitying looks, teachers wondering why you were alone
you stood all alone, small fingers fidgeting with the straps of the disney princess backpack you had begged your mom for. in class, you sat alone in the corner again, while the other kids sat with the friends they had already made
when it was recess time, you sat on a swing sniffling, listening to the other kids laugh and play together, while you sat alone. a brown haired boy walked over to you, sitting on the swing next to you “why are you crying?” he asked
you sniffled and rubbed your eyes ‘i don’t have friends’ you mumbled sadly. he stood up and walked up to you, holding his hand out. you looked up
“i'll be your friend” he smiled and you took his hand, letting him lead you to the slides "my name's joe, what's yours?" he asked "y/n" you had shyly responded back
from that moment, you two were inseparable. you spent a lot of time with him, always playing on the playground together, sitting by each other in class, eating lunch together
your parents often forgot to give you lunch, so he always brought extra food to share. you would go to his house a lot. you didn't grow up in a good home. your parents were very strict and religious, and they often neglected you
his parents accepted you as their own, always making sure you ate enough and had a smile on your face
everytime your parents forced you to join them in something religious, you always wondered the same thing. jesus, if you’re there, why do i feel alone in this room with you?
freshmen year came, and you had just turned 14. a boy had asked you if you wanted to go to the movies, and you had been so excited. you had never gone on a date before
you had put on the prettiest dress you had and asked joe's mom to do your hair
you had met up at the theater "you look nice" he had complimented you. you hadn't noticed the way his eyes lingered on your thighs. you thought he truly liked you "thank you" you had smiled
the theater had been pretty empty, a few other people in the front. you two had sat in the back. he told you it was the best spot to sit, and you figured he must be right
you were having such a good time, you didn't even think anything of it when he set his hand on your thigh
when his fingers had slipped under your dress, you looked at him "what are you doing?" you had asked. he had shaken his head "just watch the movie" he whispered, and you slowly turned back to the movie
you sat frozen the whole time, trying to pretend it wasn't real. the way you always had. it didn't stop until the movie ended. he acted as if nothing happened, and you walked home crying
you went home and told your parents what happened. your father screamed at you, calling you every degrading name in the book, and your mother slapped you
now you were walking up joe's porch. his parents weren’t home, so you were glad you wouldn't have to explain it to anyone else. you knock on his door, sniffling. he opens it, his smile instantly falling into a concerned frown when he sees your tears
“hey what’s wrong?” he asked, pulling you inside. you didn't reply, just buried your face in his chest, choking on a sob. he wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back
he had walked you over to the couch, where you cried in his arms for a while. he didn't push, just waited for you to speak
"he didn't want me, joe. he hurt me" you hiccuped, his arms tightening around you. it was the same way he had the first time I told him about what your dad would do to you
"i won’t let anyone hurt you again" he promised
soon it was junior year. you and joe had started dating when you were 16. everything was perfect. he was the best boyfriend, and you loved him so much. he knew how to treat you
but after a petty fight, you two broke up. you had agreed to stay friends, both still in love, he had started to get more focused on popularity, and you had drifted off. you felt so alone
your parents started to be harder on you. you were growing up and they didn't want you to be a disappointment. they forced you to go with them to church twice a week with them
you slowly stopped talking to joe, knowing if you did, you would tell him everything and your parents would be furious
slowly, it was getting to be too much. you couldn't take it anymore
you decided you didn't want to live like this anymore. so you wrote a note to Joe and set it on his doorstep before walking down the road, not knowing where you were headed
besides, the fates already fucked you sideways, it couldn’t get worse
you had been walking around on the side of the road when a car had pulled up near you. a teenage boy was inside. he asked you a simple crazy question ‘wanna see the west with me?’
you were hesitant. as much as you wanted to run away, you didn't know that you trusted a strange man. through manipulation and threats, and eventually him getting out and forcing you in the car, you travel with him. you fall in love, and you’re happier there, because he told you you should be
who knew what fear a man like him brings upon a woman like you?
when joe had come home, he saw the note. he picked it up, seeing his name on it. he walked inside, sitting on his couch and reading it
'dear joe
you are my best friend. you always have been. you're the only person who's ever understood me. you've always taken care of me. i love you so much and i always will. i can't stay anymore. i can't handle this hurt, and i can't hold you back
you've been the only person who's loved me my whole life, and i'll never forget that. maybe one day we'll meet again. maybe one day we'll finally live our love story
love, your y/n'
joe lay in his apartment, fidgeting with the friendship bracelet. it had been 15 years since he had seen you. not a day went by that he didn’t think of you. you were his first love, his current love, his forever love
everyone had said you ran away. and he didn’t doubt it. you hated your life back then, but he wished you hadn’t left him. he wished he hadn’t let you go. he constantly thought of your letter. he truly hopes you will come back
sure, every small diner had seen your face at least once or twice. but never enough to find you
never enough to bring you back. so he waits every day, hoping for a day to come where you'll show up. he sighs, turning his lamp off and pulling the covers over himself
he stares at the ceiling for a while, lost in thought
around midnight, he turns in bed and freezes. he sees your face in the doorway. you’re dressed in a beige nightgown that's torn and bloodied. you soft beautiful skin is covered in dirt and marks, each one more visible as you walk to the bed
"y-y/n?" he stutters, frozen in shock "hi joe" you whisper "you're here?" he asks, to which you sit on the edge of the bed "where have you been?" he adds
"i'm lost joe. i need you. i need you to save me" you say "what do you mean? you're right here?" he looks at you , still shocked and confused
"please joe, find me. please don't let him hurt me even more" you whisper, a tear falling down your face "w-what do you mean i-who hurt you?"
"please joe, i know you'll find me" you whisper once more. he reaches out to touch you and…
he jolts awake right before he can touch you. no no no. it had to be real. it felt so real
he looks around. it was all a dream. why did you look like that? who hurt you? where were you really?
his phone buzzes on the bed next to him. the wallpaper shows a childhood picture his mom had taken. you and him, hugging and smiling. the bruise on you arm was visible, a reminder of the childhood you lived
he unlocks his phone and checks his messages, trying to shake off his dream, seeing several messages from his friends
maya
isn't this the girl
charlie
man, you should check the news
gaten
hey, isn’t this the girl you were talking about?
*article attached*
he frowns. he clicks on the link, leading him to a news site. his heart almost stops when he sees the headline
'texas missing woman found in georgia after 14 years'
next to the headline was a picture of you. he opened social media, seeing himself tagged in tons of posts about it
police department
missing arlington women, y/n buxbaum, officially spotted in Atlanta 15 years after going missing. suspect arrested this morning
user; isnt that girl who's missing the girl that Joe talked about on that one interview?
more..
-
he stares at his phone. you were spotted? his phone started ringing, he immediately answers
"hello?" he speaks into the phone as he walks to his room to find his shoes
"hello, is this joe?" the woman on the end of the line asks "yes, this is him. who is this?" he puts his phone on speaker, setting it next to him as he sits on the edge of the bed, pulling socks
"my names linda, i'm one of the members of a search party. we've been told you knew the woman, correct?" he pauses. he picks the phone back up "yeah..yeah i did" he confirms
“well we couldn't get in reach with any family of hers, and i think someone she was close to should join the search. are you able to? we’ll have security" linda asks "yes" joe agrees without a second thought, pulling his sneakers on
"great, we’re all meeting at the police department downtown in one hour. we’ll see you there" she says before hanging up. joe immediately heads straight outside, getting in his car and calling maya
"hey, whats up?" maya asks "i had the craziest dream. y/n was in my room, and she was all hurt, and she was begging me to find her, it felt so real. and then i woke up and she’s been spotted. it’s like a sign" he says
"maybe it is" maya agrees “will you help me on the search? i want as many people possible” he asks, to which she agrees “sure, of course. i’ll call up the others too”
“thank you so much. meet me at the station in an hour” joe hangs up and grips the wheel. he just needs to trust his instincts and hope his dream was right
but part of him didn't want it to be. he wanted to find you, but he was terrified of finding you the way you had been in his dream. you had looked so scared, so hurt. he couldn't imagine seeing you like that in person
starting his car, he took a few deep breaths. today was the day. he was going to find you
a/n✄ this first chap kinda sucked buttttt i hope y’all enjoyed, lmk your feedback if you’d like. i’ll be posting the next chapter soon along with other fics
we been knew but unfortunately for doe!reader cregan loves to bite… i think he goes to kiss your hand and gives it a little nip to see how your nose scrunches up
cregan is a biter and it FREAKS doe!reader out!! but he doesn't mean to ☹️ he feels bad ☹️
doe!reader who isn't used to the way that cregan like to touch her, how he's drawn to it. when he holds her waist or rubs her back, thats fine, but it's the casually intimate touches that drive her nuts.
smoothing a hand over her hair in front of his bannermen, or tracing his fingers over her arm in council meetings. when he backs her up against the cold stone in the hallway, or presses her body to his, just to smooch her cheek and tell her that she looks pretty. kissing her on the mouth in public — thats the worst.
kissing her hand is tame, and well within the bounds of what she's comfortable with — he abuses that privilege.
the little nips bother her more than anything at first, when he kisses her knuckles so sweetly only to clip the soft skin with his teeth. he's a worshiper, so kissing across her fingers and down her arms is the natural progression as she grows comfortable with him.
he'll kiss from the back of her wrist, up her fingers, and back down into the dip of her palm. he's passionate about it, dedicated to it; he curls his fingers around her wrist to hold her hand to his mouth. doe!reader starts to get a little unsettled when his mouth moves up her thumb, and the tip of the didgit scrapes against the smooth edge of his incisor. his tongue darts out for a second, wetting a strip of her soft skin. before she can wiggle her hand from his grasp, he moves it for her; his canine drags the inside of her thumb. font and back teeth meet on either side of the thin muscle that makes the curve of webbing — pressure, not pain. she jerks a little, but he holds her hand still, taking his teeth away to press gentle kisses to the front of her hand.
My only big thought here is just whenever Sam and Dean get in a fight, their antlers hit each other and clank around an doe!reader is scared but also trying to suppress a laugh just a lil bc this shit is fucking funny.
Doe!Reader and her mate bear!Price again... (part one here)
Something that ws typically present across most species of male hybrids was the urge to please. They want praise and acknowledgment for doing their mately duties, even if it was just a purr.
John was no different. If anything, he was more prideful of when he could do something for the people he took care of than anything else. While he was in combat, it was his team, and it always will be even if they each have their own mated packs now. Then men were bonded in blood, and that was enough. Now, however, his nurturing instincts can target themselves on her. His mate.
She was a pretty little thing, knobbed knees and cute, almond shaped ears protruding from her hair. Her skin was almost an ombre, from her main color being the majority filling her body (that he could see), and a darker shade of that same color bordered her features. Her hairline, elbows, back of her ears, her neck were all darker.
She was small. Maybe not petite or size zero small, but her proportions were just... small. It was common for smaller animals to generally be smaller, obviously, but it never occurred to John just how much of a turn on that was.
Maybe it had to do with a predator-prey instinct.
Regardless, John wasn't going to be going home any time soon. He would park back up on the hill before the entrance to her shop and wait.
John waited until 5:30 before pulling back down the driveway. His mate was talking to a customer when he entered the shop. A old man with circular ears on the top of his white hair, circular glasses above his pudgy nose, and a long tail that matched his ears. A mouse man.
"Alright, George, you come back anytime you need and tell me how that's been working for you, alright?" She was saying as he was walking in.
"Alright, thank you, miss." The man began to walk past John as he circled to get behind the counter with his Deer, "Is that your lady? She's such a sweet girl. You best sweep her up while you can. " The old man chided to him in a joking manner. This naturally made John smirk and Doe go red in embarrassment.
"Trust me, im working on it sir."
Within fifteen minutes, John convinced Doe to finish up in the shop, and he would make sure her nursery was cleaned up for the night. She anxiously gave him a list of things that needed to be done. Make sure the lights are at a specific level, keep certain plants away from each other, heat rises, so make sure any pots in a teal planter are on the floor, Etcetera.
Within half an hour, John was walking his Doe to his truck, helping her up into the passenger seat and got himself behind the wheel.
It was a pretty short drive, maybe seven minutes, and that time was filled with surprisingly smooth small talk. Doe was quiet, shy, but very polite. She asked questions about his work and how long he's lived in town, and she started to relax as he did most of the talking.
When they got to the diner, John helped her out of the truck again. He bends her hand as he walked her in, and they choose a booth in the corner. A waitress came around with menus and told them she'd be back in a minute for their drink orders.
"Are you going to make me come home with you?"
The question caught him off guard. He sputtered a couple of times, looking at his sweet deer in shock. "Pardon me? I won't be making you do anything. Everything from this point forward is your choice, sweet'art. Just wanna be with my sweet mate."
Doe took a second to inhale and squeeze her thighs. Damn hes not only hot but fuck he cares.
Some more sweet lil doe reader x bear!price pretty pretty please
Coming up🤭
@just-lilita @phineas-is-chaos @20faded20
Price thought his heart would burst out of his chest when he heard those meek little words. He chuffed in both amusement and pride. Is this little doe crazy? Of course he would take her home with him.
Doe had been evidently nervous the whole drive to Prices. John didn't push. He kept the radio low to tune out her worried thoughts and drove with one hand on the center console. The drive was long, and it made Doe wonder why Price had come all the way out to where she worked in the first place.
About fifteen minutes into the drive, John noticed the little deer nearing her hand to his. She kept a couple of inches of distances for a few minutes before hesitantly brushing her fingers over his. When John looked to her, she was staring dead ahead as if trying to pretend her hands moved involuntarily. Maybe they did. Either way, John took the next step and grasped her hand in his fully, also keeping his eyes straight ahead, but with a subtle smirk on his lips.
It took another fifteen minutes after that for them to finally pull into the driveway of a very rustic 'cabin-in-the-woods' type place. The home was surrounded by trees from the back and was very private. There was a wrap-around porch and looked so homey. A pile of chopped logs with an axe still in it, a fire pit surrounded by nice wooden lawn chairs, and an empty bottle of beer sitting on the table on the porch.
The whole place smelt like bear, but more specifically, like Price. It was smoky, woody, and smelt of rain and something almost chocolatey. Doe swore that even if this was some sort of trap, she'd die happy just from the aroma.
'This would be the perfect home to raise some fawns' a thought that entered her mind and quickly took over as John got out of his truck. He helped her out, gently brushing her back as she hopped out, playing the guise of smoothing her clothes.
She sort of trailed behind him as he showed her to the door, but before they even made it up the steps to the porch, Price turned around to face his deer.
"Your nervousness will send me into an instinctual overdrive if you dont tell me what's wrong." He punctuated the last words, not trying to scare her by any means but fully needing her to understand his point. He would be in his own space, that alone can make a bear feel instinctively protective, now anxiety is pouring out of every pore of his mate, he didn't want to scare her by giving into instincts.
She looked almost astounded that he was so blunt and took a second to regain any bit of composure she had. "Uhm. You're very, ehr-" Price raised his eyebrows, urging her to continue. She put her head down as she answered a bit more quietly. "You smell strong of, uh- Arousal?"
John sputtered a little bit, trying to take in his own scent to the best of his ability. He was aroused, obviously. How couldn't he be with the sweet doe gripping into him for a quarter-hour? But he hadn't realized the smell would be that obvious. A small speckle of thought entered his head, something about how responsive her body naturally was to his smell depsite not being mated made a code switch in his brain, but he was levelheaded enough to understand that this was not the time.
"Absolutely nothing will happen tonight, or any other night, that you have not initiated or been made aware and agreed to. I will not abuse any sort of power you believe i have over you, that I can promise you."
Her body's demeanor changed tenfold as he said that, and he held in a smirk as he smelt spurts of her own arousal. Such a strange little doe.
If John had been at all embarrassed by what Doe had admitted, he didn't show it. That comforted her as that what had her nerves going. She didn't want him to change his demeanor. He was so kind right now, so gentle, and it felt so right to be with him, but if she pissed him off, that could all change.
He led her into the living room, sitting her on the couch, setting up the tv, and going to the kitchen to grab drinks. He didn't ask what she wanted. He didn't ask anything. He just did.
It was comforting in a way not to have to think about anything. Maybe it was just her, but questions like "Would you like a drink?" "What kind" and "What do you wanna watch" would make her uncomfortable. It would make her question the proper answers. Maybe he knew that?
When he came back, he was holding a little tray. There was a platter of snacks like fruits and pretzels and nuts, and two glasses, one filled with brown liquid the other with pink. Doe really hoped the pink one was hers.
It was hers, and it was a strawberry lemonade cocktail, very sweet with little alcohol, Price didn't want her getting drunk. Not tonight atleast.
They watched the 2009 Avatar movie. Strategically picked by Price due to length, he sat less than an arms distance away, and for the first little while, it was more then awkward. Price was touchy. He was sitting less than two feet away from his destined mate, and he was trying to control his impulses to cage her in his arms and protect her from the world.
After maybe twenty minutes, Doe sighed dramatically, causing Johns head to snap towards her from the tv, his attention already on her, but now more focused. She didn't say anything, just tossed herself closer to him, curling herself under one of his arms. His body went from stiff to relaxed in seconds, like she knew what he needed to calm down.
They fell asleep like that, on the couch cuddled together. John woke up sometime around 4 or 5 in the morning, a text from one of his boys wondering if he was still hosting this sundays football get-together. He didn't answer then, he could answe later, at that point he just wanted to lay with his doe.
summary✄ as you suffer through isaiahs abuse, you hallucinate and lose hope, failing every attempt to escape but joe never gives up
warnings✄ mentions of torture, drugs, abuse, manipulation, mentions of forced sex work, swearing, allusions to sa, attempted murder, kidnapping, beating?, restraints, muzzle, cage, reader is referred to as an animal/being treated as one, fantasies of death, branding, mentions of suicide, threats, rape(not described, just mentioned), hallucinations, mentions of being underweight, readers skin is briefly described as pale, but not saying that is her overall skin tone, brief mention of reader liking books, probably badly proofread. please read warnings and notes before continuing. you have been warned, do not comment any hate. reminder that I'm not romanticizing any of these topics
wc✄ 6.1k
notes✄ this one may have been a little insane so HEAVY TRIGGER WARNING. please tell me if this is absolute trash and if its dark. the next chapters will hopefully be longer. idk if they have forests in atlana like this but pretend they do (also this kinda has lyrics from multiple songs in the album but the main theme is ptolemaea) also i was kinda like, researching his life so i could properly write this so i hope i don’t sound like some news article ir something in a part of it (also it briefly mentions szn5 being postponed in this series because that’s when it takes place)
preachers daughter masterlist
the attic was dark. your mind was hazy. your arms were chained against the support beam, and you had no idea what day it was. you guessed it was night considering it was dark out
your head hung low, barely awake. your system was full of drugs and some sort of alcohol
but you started to prefer the drugs after a while. they made things more..tolerable
half the time you would just lay there, barely conscious. it had been this way for years
you spent most of your time this way, hanging from the ceiling, or buckled on the floor when night comes along
at first, life with him had been great. perfect. he was so kind, and he loved you so much
or, at least, you thought
but if you’ve learned anything in your life, you can’t always trust what people say
after a while, when you started getting attached, he changed
when you first started the journey, you felt free. free from your parents. free from their expectations and abuse
you never went to the same small town diner more than once or twice, to stay hidden
you had to stay hidden so that nobody would try to find you guys and make you leave him, that’s what he told you
and when you were in those motel rooms? it was like he was the only man you knew who wasn’t angry. besides joe of course
he never told you why he was on the road too. he told you he had fallen in love with america and wanted to see it all. you didn’t ask him about his life before
you were just so in love
but not all good things last forever, you suppose
he started to manipulate you
it was small at first, he knew exactly what to say and do. he would make you feel guilty if you didn’t sleep with him
didn’t you want to make him happy?
and you fell for it. because you couldn’t get away, you were too attached, too convinced you were in love, convinced he loved you
turns out all he wanted to do was get your clothes off and hurt you
the first time he used the drugs, you absolutely hated it. they weren’t like the sleeping medication your mother would make you take when you were younger
they were so gross, so terrifying. you didn’t want to do them, drugs were bad for you
but after a while, you gave in you didn’t have much of a choice, you either let him give you them or he forced a needle in your arm
besides, it helped you forget. or, at least, in the moment. but it always came back to you at night when you were alone
one day, he brought you with him to some sort of club or party. whatever it was, it was sketchy
to get there, you had to follow him through some creepy abandoned building, and then down the stairs to the basement
that was never a good sign
the sound of music gets closer the further down you walk, along with the smell of cheap alcohol and cigarettes
when the basement door opens, the bright colored lights blind you
you squint, trying to adjust to the lighting. he doesn’t even seem phased. he pulls you along as he strides in
there’s couples dancing, well, more like grinding on each other
everyone had a drink in their hand. at a table in the corner, a group of guys were snorting something
isaiah leads you to the back of the room, ignoring the rest of the party
he leads you to a spot with a curtain instead of a door. lovely
he tugs you closer as he pushed it open, revealing a room with a group of men
black leather and dark glasses was all you could see
the men are scattered around the room, some drinking, some smoking, some doing other drugs
there’s a table in the middle of the room. there were cards scattered across it as the some of the men argued while playing..poker?
the men look up when you two enter the room, and these grins cover their faces
disgusting, gut wrenching grins
isaiah closes the curtain and leads you into the room
“hey sweetheart, what’s your name?” a tall, intimidating man asks as he stands, approaching
"y/n.." you barely whisper, pure fear filling your eyes as you look up at him
“what a pretty little thing” another man chuckles. one of them turns to isaiah “how much?”
“hundred bucks per hour” isaiah states
a man grabs a few bills, counting them and handing them over as if it was nothing
“how’s a grand for five hours? i’ll throw in a little as a tip for the pretty thing” the man winks at you, knowing none of the actual money would he going to you
“deal” isaiah grins, pocketing the bills as another man turns to you, grabbing a hanger and handing you it
you stare at it, confused with the whole situation. a hundred dollars an hour for what?
on it hung a lingerie set, and isaiah grabbed your arm, pulling you to a corner with another curtain
he pushes it open, pulling you in and closing it “w-what’s going on?” your voice is shaky, your hands gripping the hanger in fear
“you love me right?” he asks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. you nod and he smiles sickeningly
“good. put this on and make those men happy just like you make me”
he watches you put it on, your body trembling with fear. he guides you to step out slowly, watching as the men stare like you’re a piece of meat
he made sure everyone knew he was the first one to leave his mark on you. he wanted everyone to see who you belong to
then he sat back, drinking and watching. he pours another while you shake your ass
you begged him not to make you do it again the next time he brought you there
you stood outside the building with him, pleading through tears. but he just pulled you into his arms, his embrace more crushing than comforting
“remember when you said you wanted to make happy?” he strokes your hair, knowing you would do anything he asked
and you did. so you gave in, following him in again, every single time
he had an obsession with the money, you were addicted to the drugs
you still thought of joe, all the time. wondering, hoping that maybe, just maybe, you would get to see him again one day. if you could just run into his arms, cling to him and never let gopp
you remember the last time you spoke like it was yesterday. you had gotten into a fight, throwing harsh words at each other
“it’s not my fault you care more about popularity than your best friend!” you had yelled
you knew it was stupid. you knew he cared about you more than anything. but you felt like you were losing him to it.
and instead of talking about it like a normal person would, you did what you always did. push him away anyway without realizing
“that’s not true and you know it y/n!” he shouts back, running his fingers through his hair “then why did you just ditch me the second you got popular!”
“i didn’t! you separated yourself!” he exclaims and you purse your lips, knowing he’s right. he always is
“god, this is why we didn’t work out. you don’t trust me. and you make everything ten times more dramatic than it needs to be” he sighs
your stomach drops at his words, overthinking them immediately
“don’t look at me like that” he adds in an almost pleading tone, seeing the look of hurt and disappointment
“how else am i supposed to look at you?” you snapped, trying to hide your sadness with anger
“i know this all is hard for you, but i can’t be there for you if you yell at me every second” he tried to step forward- you step away
“fine, then don’t be there” you spit and turn around, truly devastated with yourself as you walk away from your best friend
the one person who’s ever truly been there for you
you were never allowed out of the house. that was just one of the rules. you stay in the attic, and you don’t get punished. simple
so you definitely hadn’t expected it when isaiah had told you that he needed to go run an errand, you were coming with him
usually he just kept you drugged while he was gone or chained up, the door locked
“hey, i gotta run to the store, get up” he walks over, unlocking the chain
you stumble, rubbing your sore wrists- you chew your lip, steadying yourself and following him down the creaky stairs
he pulled out his key, unlocking the latch on the door and guiding you out
he locked the door behind him before leading you down the path. the house was in the woods, so you had to walk a bit to get to his car
the dirt was rough on your socks. you walked for about five minutes, silent except for the sound of twigs under your feet
the forest was calm, save for the few occasional birds. it was the opposite of the attic
you made it to his truck, and he helped you in. you buckled in, fidgeting with your nails
you had no idea that he was letting you out because he wanted you to see life one last time
one last time before he took that life away. completely
the drive was quiet, the music on the radio and the engine purring the only sound filling your ears. you watched the surroundings nearby as the car drove
after a while of driving, he pulls up to a small store. it’s not very busy, the area far away from the house and in a smaller town
he reaches into the back of his truck, grabbing a hoodie and tossing it at you. you pull it on, pulling the hood on
he gets out of the truck, walking around and opening your door. you climb out, following as his large frame leads you to the doors
he opens the door, leading you in. the smell hits you. it’s not something everyone else smells when they step into a store like this, but it is for you
books
you look up at him, and he nods. you quickly rush over to the shelves. you run your fingers over the spines
he had brought you books in the past, his way of ‘rewarding’ you for behaving. but he had never actually brought you to pick for yourself
he let you look around for hours. he wanted to at least let you have something nice before he took your life
after all, you had earned him a lot of money for a while, he figured he would let you go out and choose what you wanted instead of just getting something for you himself
plus, he liked watching the way him doing such a small thing made you so happy. he thought it was pathetic
you leave the store with four books. he drums his fingers on the steering wheel as he drives back to the house, occasionally glancing over
you stare at the first book intently as you read
he found it ironic. you bought romance books when the romance in your life was all a lie
he pulls into the lot, hopping out. he walks around the car again, opening your door
he grabs the collar from the back, fastening it back around your neck. you hop out, carrying the bag of books so delicately
you followed him back inside the house. he locked the front door and turned to you
"head up to the attic" he commanded. you walk upstairs, climbing into the attic
you walk over and sit down on the mattress in the corner, setting the bag down and grabbing the book out
the wind blew in from the cracked window. his footsteps neared the attic, and he appeared a few moments later. he walks over
he kneels down next to you, stroking your hair almost mockingly
“what do you say?” he tsks, as if he was speaking to a child. you look up at him, so fucking manipulated “thank you isaiah” you speak timidly
every time you spoke, he loved it. your soft voice made him want to break you even more
and he knew you would never leave him. because nobody would love you after everything he had done to you
a few days had passed, and he had been so oddly sweet to you. you didn’t understand. he brought you a bunch of baked goods from a bakery
you just didn’t know he had laced them before coming upstairs
you had grown to not know whether or not you were being drugged. you got used to the taste
usually he never lets you have anything nice to eat. all you ever got was enough to keep you alive
you hadn’t even noticed when you blacked out
your eyes open slowly, your arms still above your head hanging. you look around, still in the attic. you hear footsteps and tense again
but the face that appears isn’t the man who causes you pain. it’s the one who made you feel love
joe..
he looks over, face a mask of horror “oh my god-y/n” he gasps, stumbling back
you’re hanging there like a piece of meat, arms tied above your head against the beam, feet barely touching the ground, completely numb
he hurries over, big hands cupping your cheeks “what happened to you?” he whispers, wiping your tears
his face was a mix of devastation and relief. you couldn't speak through the muzzle, just looked up at him, trembling and eyes wet with fresh tears
"hey, hey it’s okay. 'm here, i'm here. we’re going to get you out" he promises, hands trembling as he reaches above you, looking for a way to get you down
“just-just hang on, okay? i’m gonna get you down” his hands fiddle with the metal, snapping the rusty lock
he breaks the chain, catching you. he slowly lowers to the floor, cradling you “i’ve got you, i’ve got you” he whispers, holding you close and cradling you
you cling to him, feeling the freedom. his hands slowly start to get colder, and his grip loosens. you look up and suddenly everything goes dark
your eyes snap open and you look around frantically. no.. no, no no no! “hey, i’m talking to you bitch” isaiah spits, snapping you back to reality
“you were whining that poor boys name. do you miss your little friend?” his tone is mocking “well i don’t care. you’re mine now, not his”
tears stream down your face and he tsks
“such a poor thing" he whispers, stroking your cheek above the muzzle "my sweet, sweet mourning lamb" he pulls away, looking you over
he slaps you across the face “pathetic” he spits
when he hits, it hurts. you had been subject to abuse occasionally growing up, but nothing like him
he uses all his strength, big hard punches straight to the fact, stomach, anywhere
but nothing was as bad as the torture. and he tightens the restraints, grabbing a metal pole, and starting it again anyway
when your head falls forward, his pole hits your wrists. you yelp in pain, then gasp when you feel the chains weaken. you yank them, the rusty metal falling to the floor
you put all your effort in and slam them into him, making him groan and stumble back
you gasp as you yank yourself free. thank god the chain was rusty. you turn and run down the stairs, stumbling from the pain. you pull on the door desperate to get it open. you hear him groan and stand up. you grab a piece of wood and smash the window open
you climb out, falling to the ground. you push yourself back up, running down the porch. the sound of the door opening and closing echoes in your ear, along with the sound of him chasing you
you push to run despite the horrid burn in your body. you couldn't die, you couldn't let him kill you
you turn to see where he is, he's getting closer, you need to keep going, keep pushing just a little-
thump
you fall to the ground with a thud as you trip over a pile of rocks. no no no. you drag yourself back up, but he's so close now. you're slower now, your legs burning with a whole new pain
he grabs you in a headlock, cutting off your air
you let out the loudest scream you could manage "stop!" your scream echoes through the forest, but no one hears it. he drags you back to the house
he pulls you to the basement instead, tossing you on the ground
he grabs the chains, tightening them and tying it around your neck
“get on your knees” he snaps, and you stumble to your knees despite the pain
“you know what you are? you’re a filthy slut. my dirty pet. an animal. you know what happens to animals when they misbehave?” he growls, tugging the chain
“t-they get punished” you whimper in pain “that’s right. and what are you?”
“a-an animal” you choke out. he grabs a muzzle, tying it around your mouth “much better”
“now, since you’re an animal, you’ll sleep like one” he drags you to a wire cage and forces you in, tying the chain to a wall and locking the cage
he walks up the stairs, turning the light off and leaving you alone in the cold dark cage, trembling in pain
he walks downstairs the next morning, kneeling in front of the cage. he unlocks it, pulling you out
"stand up" he demands sharply. you struggle to stand up, making him lt out a mocking laugh "pathetic little thing. cant even stand up
he drags you up, yanking you towards the wall and tying your wrists to the chains on the wall
“i should’ve killed you years ago. fucking you dead would’ve been much nicer”
he grabs his ring and a lighter. he slowly flicks it on, keeping eye contact with you as he heats it slowly
“you think you can run away from me?” he sets the lighter down, slowly stepping forward and grabbing your arm. he pushes your sleeve up and hivers the metal over your arm
“this is what happens when you try to run” he presses it hard and you scream in pain as he holds it there. you sob, but he’s holding you down firmly
he pulls it off, looking at the raw skin. he reaches into the bag he keeps in the corner
you pour all your strength into one hard kick. he falls forward, straight into a beam, knocking him right on the nose and he blacks out. you knew you didn’t have much time
you yank on the chains. you yank and yank until they snap off the board
you fell to the floor, coughing and hacking. your whole body ached, protesting with each movement. you groan as you push yourself up, stumbling to the stairs
the restraints on your arms and ankles slow you down, but you force any energy you have into getting out
you climb up the stairs, gripping the railing. you nearly fall down them, reaching the door. you push it open and climb out
you stumble to the front door. the window you had broken during your last attempt to escape had been fixed. fuck
you look around frantically, spotting an axe. you grab it, smashing the glass, shards flying. you climb out of the window, falling to the ground with a broken groan as you land in glass
you grip the support beams, pulling yourself up. you think of joe, and you force all your energy into running. and that’s what you do
the first few steps are utter torture, but you force your legs to move
you run through the woods, not knowing where you’re headed. every step is more and more exhausting, and you feel as though your body may give out at any moment
you fall on your hands and knees, sobbing in pain. the chains dig into your skin, the collar nearly choking you and the muzzle making you feel silenced
you try to crawl, desperate. you claw at the restraints. a foot comes flying down onto your back
you fall face first. your jaw smacks into a rock, and if it weren’t for the muzzle, you were sure it would have been broken
you try to push yourself back up, but the boot stays firm holding you down
you knew who it was
you knew the moment you looked up, you would see that face, and you would lose all hope
he doesn’t give you a choice
he grips your shoulder, lifting his boot so he can flip you over. he towers over you, staring down at you with pure rage and hatred
he pushes his boot on your chest, enough to make you struggle for air. he kneels, straddling you
he doesn’t mutter a single word. he doesn’t have to. because you already know what he’s going to do
he takes his big hands, wrapping them around your neck. his weight pins your body to the ground, and all you can do is gasp weakly and claw at his arms
your nails dig into his skin over and over but he doesn’t care. he lifts you by your neck slightly, watching you struggle to breathe
you stare up at him with wide panicked eyes, tears streaming down your face as you struggle for air
you feel reality slipping away. but it was real this time. he wasn’t just doing another threat or scare like he used to
you were actually dying
your life was playing in your head. you had born into a life without love. you had built love with joe, and then you had fallen for a man you met, and now you were going to die without love
you choke, eyes watering as you feel consciousness slipping away slowly. your eyelids flutter, your grips getting weaker
suddenly, he loosens his grip. he yanks you up, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. he starts walking, heading straight to his truck
you can't fight. you're torn between screaming and staying frozen in fear. he opens the passenger door, tossing you in roughly and slamming it
he walks around, climbing into the driver's side. he starts the car, immediately slamming on the gas. you sat in the seat, head lolling, half conscious. every time you move, he pushes your head against the window
he pulls over near a big shop. he gets out, walking around and yanking your door open
he yanks the hoodie on you, pulling you out. you stumble, unable to fight back
he walks inside the store with a tight grip on you. he walks around, grabbing rope, a knife, and a gun
you keep your head down as you wait in the line. he sets the items on the belt. the woman at the register kept giving you concerned looks,but didn't say anything
until she saw a glimpse of your face when Isaiah yanked you with him. you were clearly out of it, your face was bruised and battered. but the main thing she noticed was who you were
you had been all over the news. and she could tell you weren't safe. so she grabbed her phone and immediately dialed 911, frantic to get a hold of someone before you got too far
he shoves you back in his car, throwing the stuff in your lap and climbs into the drivers seat
he turns the key, revving the engine before taking off once again "did you make any faces at that woman?" he grits out. you frantically shake your head through your drugged state
he throws his fist into your head making you hit the window again. he grips the wheel tightly as he speeds down the highway
he grabs the collar, tightening it around your neck again and fastening the muzzle
you struggle to breathe through the tight hold as he holds it around your neck tightly, choking and coughing
and just as your vision is about to go black, the sound of sirens near. he lets go to look behind him, multiple police cars behind him
he turns back to face the road, slamming on the brakes seeing more in front of him. your head falls straight into the dashboard, groaning
police officers climb out of the cars, guns raised and walk slowly "get out of the car with your hands in the air"
he hesitates, weighing out his options. he slowly steps out of the car, hands up
"on the ground!" another officer commands. you watch him kneel, his sharp eyes refusing to break eye contact
two officers immediately grab him. a male officer grabs both his arms, yanking them behind his back
you barely process what's going on. your mind is spinning. you can hear the officers speaking to him faintly, slumped in the car
"you have the right to remain silent. anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law" court of law?
"you have the right to an attorney. if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you"
all you can hear is Isaiah arguing with the cops and them yelling at him to cooperate. you stumble out of the car, falling to the ground
one of the officers approaches you slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal
“gomez, go grab something to get these chains off” the officer commands another, who quickly rushed to the police cars. you curl into yourself, suddenly terrified
“it’s okay, we’re not gonna hurt you” the officer assures you, but you don’t believe it
your looking around frantically for an escape, though you knew you wouldn't be able to get up. you were too weak
a red haired woman steps out “hey..i promise. we just want to help” she kneels next to you. you flinch. the second officer rushes over with two more officers, some pliers and chain cutters
officer gomez carefully kneels, trying to help take the restraints off. you curl into yourself
“it’s okay, i promise. we won’t hurt you” the red haired woman says. a man approached slowly as well, speaking with a british accent “we’re joes friends” you freeze. joes friends?
the redhead nods, agreeing with the man “i’m sadie. that’s charlie. we just want to help” she promises. you look between her and the cop, still scared
should you trust them? what if you were just imagining it? and then you hear a voice. frantic, shouting, trembling. familiar. the voice is deeper than you remember, but impossible to miss
that’s joe
it’s really him. you look up and he’s running over to the scene. and he nearly stops breathing when he sees you
you looked so broken. dressed in an off white dress that was covered in dirt and slight spots of your blood. scars on your body, bruises along with them
you were trembling, wrists and ankles stuck to chains, a metal collar on your neck, and some sort of muzzle still caught on your face. you looked so scared, so traumatized
he almost broke down. the love of his life was finally in front of him after fifteen years. and somehow, you looked even worse than his nightmare, yet you were still the beautiful woman he loved
he slowly walked towards you, watching your wide doe eyes follow his every move “y/n..?” his voice cracks, seeing tears fall down your face. sadie steps aside
he slowly kneels next to you. you flinch, but not away. just habit “i’m here..i’m here, just let the officers help you please” he begs
you hesitate, still terrified and processing the situation. you were caught between refusing, still scared, and letting them free you
on one hand, this was finally your chance to be free, fully escape. but you also had the fear stuck in your mind, terrified to let anyone touch you
“i promise you, they are not going to hurt you” he tried to coax you into letting the officers help, desperate to make you safe
after almost fifteen minutes, the desperation for freedom won
you slowly nod, making everyone sigh in relief. the officer slowly knees beside you, carefully working to clip the muzzle. you tense at any contact
she works gently, avoiding any contact of the tool with skin. a sharp creak noise echoes and the restriction falls from your face, the other officer quickly grabbing it before it falls onto your lap
multiple officers are standing near, hiding view of you from all the reporters and people nearby
your jaw is red and sore. next comes the collar, freeing your neck. the skin is red and raw, and the feeling of nothing on it feels ten times better than you imagined
two officers work on the chains every so carefully. joe sits next to you the whole time, hand hovering over your back, scared to touch you and startle you
the moment every restraint is off, it truly hits you
you were free
the sounds of sirens approaching is heard as an ambulance nears. you tense “hey, hey it’s okay. i’m right here” joe assures you again
paramedics rush over, carrying a stretcher. after some convincing, they manage to get you on the stretcher. they had to lift you because you were so weak
it wasn’t difficult though. you were severely malnourished
they lift the stretcher into the ambulance as joe promises over and over that he’ll meet you at the hospital. the doors close, cutting him off
the sirens blare as the ambulance speeds off “y/n? honey, im going to give you some sedatives okay?” a female paramedic speaks softly
you stare at the ambulance ceiling, not responding. she carefully takes a needle, ever so gently sticking it in your arm and giving you the sedative
the last thing you hear before falling unconscious is the paramedics discussing your condition, worried
-joe-
he practically runs inside the hospital, looking around frantically. he rushes over to the receptionist while officers stand by the hospital doors
everyone knew that there would be news people here soon. celebrities frantically rushing to a hospital was bound to make a headline
the receptionist looks up, startled “can i help you sir?” she speaks gently “i’m here for y/n buxbaum”
her expression turns grim. the name was familiar from the paramedics rushing you in just minutes before
“ms. buxbaum is currently being examined. are you family?” she asks. he hesitates “i’m..her best friend.. i’m all she has” his tone is pleading. she nods, typing a few things in her computer
“the doctor will let you know once she’s able to have visitors. for now, you’re welcome to wait over there” she motions to the waiting room, giving him a sympathy look
he nods, walking over and slumping in a chair, leg bouncing with his lower lip in between his teeth
a few moments later, charlie and sadie are hurrying in “is she okay?” they ask him, worried. joe rests his head in his hands “i don’t know”
they sit next to him, charlie resting his hand on joes back “she’s gonna be okay man” he assures joe
all the overwhelming emotions wash over him, and he breaks down into sobs, processing everything. charlie stays by him comforting him
the wait feels excruciating. his phone constantly blows up with messages from his friends asking if you’re alright
charlie offers him a coffee, jod barely acknowledging it. eventually he takes it and sips it, though his eyes are stuck on the hallway doors
a doctor steps out, exhausted but relieved “family of ms. buxbaum?” he speaks, making joes head snap up. he’s over in an instant
“yes, yes that’s me” joe nods, frantic for any update “she’s stable. she was very malnourished and injured. we’ll need to keep her here for a little while” the doctor explains
“how long?” joe asks “could be weeks, could be months. it depends on her willingness. patients like this often refuse to let doctors and nurses touch them or help them” the doctor explains
“what do you mean? patients like what?” joe asks almost reluctantly, terrified of the answer “victims of domestic and.. sexual violence”
the words make everything in his world stop, and joe thinks he might pass out for a moment. he had been refusing to consider that possibility the whole time he was waiting
the state he saw you in, he didn’t want to believe it was true “c-can i see her?” his voice is a broken whisper
the doctor nods professionally, though he gives a sympathetic look, similar to the nurses earlier “yes. but she’s still unconscious”
joe he nods, following as the doctor leads him to your hospital room. the sight of you laying on the bed, pale and unconscious makes his heart ache even more if possible
he walks over to the bed, pulling a chair up and sitting down next to it
you looked older now. of course you did, it had been almost fifteen years. but he would always be able to recognize you. your hair, once soft and beautiful, now tangled and rough.
he makes a mental note to buy you some shampoo and conditioner. you had always loved when he would brush your hair when you two were younger
you had always thought he was just naturally good at it. you didn’t know that he had spent hours asking his mom and sisters to teach him how to braid hair
he remembers when kids used to make fun of you for having messy hair when you were younger. he would always tell them to back off and he always felt so bad because it made you cry
he knew you didn’t have anyone to take care of you the way his family always took care of him. and so he had promised himself he would always take care of you
the guilt had eaten him alive the years you were missing. of course, he had an amazing life going
he had pursued his singing career and started acting. he joined a band, and he auditioned for stranger things, landing one of the main roles in a hit tv series
he started making his own music with a new band and became known as a famous artist too. he was living an amazing life, but he never stopped thinking of you
the best thing that could ever happen was to live that life with you. and now he finally had you back after so long
but he wondered if you would still want him. if you still loved him. after all these years, after all that's happened
but he knew that in the end, he didn’t care if you loved him again. even if all you wanted now was to be his friend, he would do anything just to have you back in his life, even if that meant you only being his best friend. you were his everything
he knew that the most important thing right now was helping you heal. he had no idea what had happened to you, but he knew it wasn’t good, and he knew you would be struggling
he was determined to make sure you got everything you needed. he was going to take care of you, just like he promised years ago
he knew you were going to need all the support he could give you
especially because there were already headlines. and he knew they would only get so much worse as time went by. and he knew this would be serious. whether you wanted to go to court or not, he knew you there would be a trial
he knew it would be hard. because that’s how courts were. and he knew the way lawyers would be, and he knew you were going to have to relive all the pain you went through
and he knew he was going to have to hear every single thing. and as much as that pained him, he knew he had to be there to support you
and if there was anything else he knew, he knew your parents were going to show up. and that? that would be one of the worst parts of this
and he wasn't going to leave you alone again. never, ever again
a/n✄ could you tell I have a problem with toxic relationships. did i cry multiple times writing this? yes. am i just a sensitive person? also yes. i literally crashed out trying to write this properly . i may have gone insane with this one i fear
i bet doe!reader gets soooo so skittish around wolf!cregan. the predator smell, his size and the physicality, how attracted she is to him when she knows she probably shouldn’t be…… he’s def the type to hush her (“shhh, settle down now, pet”), to try and overwhelm her senses to get her to settle down, be it by squeezing her sides, scenting her, kissing her throat, and eventually biting. he calls her pet/little one/little doe/sweet thing, always in that deep, raspy, slightly dangerous voice of his.
#needthat
i love u nonny ur in my hall of fame 💗 i didn't even have time to write doe!reader hcs (got logged out of tumblr, thank u computer) !! and u read my mind!!
i imagine doe!reader and cregan to be married — arranged, or at least political union. shes afraid of him, because of everything shes been told about big, scary, brutish, northern men. she's also... she's also really into him. yeah...
not at first! hes fit, but its muddled by the apprehension and discomfort in the cold, drafty castle. the intensity of her attraction comes with his gentleness. the gowns and furs that he has made just for her, to keep her warm; her bath oils that he sends for from dorne; how he guides her through crowded halls with one hand on the curve of her waist to keep her close to him.
it's overwhelming, even when she warms up to him. cregan is big — tall and broad, his sharp features and long hair harden him more. some of the largeness comes not from his physicality, but from his aura. he's intimiating — he's the wolf of the north.
cregan has one set demeanor in public: stoic, straight faced, unflinching and unaffected by anything. he commands a room by how unsettling his presence is. his voice is always even and smooth, he never yells, rarely snaps at any of his bannermen.
i don't take cregan to be big on pet names (but we could discuss this...) his lady has a name, he likes it, he thinks its the respectful thing to refer to her by that given name. lady star sometimes, or my lady — thats reserved mostly for company. "dear" is his go to: my dear, dear girl, or just dear. its a little awkward coming out of his mouth, a little unnatural at first. but he's trying to make his lady more comfortable around him, and lord cerwyn told him that terms of endearment will help her warm up.
doe!reader is so freaked when cregan's careful facade breaks apart in private. he's unnervingly gentle with her when she's brought to winterfell the first time, dropping his voice to a soft lull when he speaks with her, refraining from touch until he can tell that she's comfortable with him. he shields her through the crowd at their wedding, gathers the train of her gown so she won't trip. he refuses a bedding ceremony, and assures her in the private of his chambers that they need not consumate.
he's freakishly attuned to her. she stays guarded months into their marriage, keeping him at arms length. he doesn't fight it, he works with her, lets himself be present when he's needed and doesn't force it when he isn't. if he's there when she needs him, she'll want to come to him more — this is his thinking.
because he's the only person she knows in winterfell, he's who she seeks out when she's nervous or overwhelmed or frightened. he's good at regualting her. holding her against his body and pressing little kisses down the side of her face; rubbing her back while she sits in his lap.
he can manage it when she won't tell him, too. he knows what to look for, the signs she displays when something is eating at her. the go-to is to slip his hand beneath her hair and rub the back of her neck with his thumb, soothing little semi-circles into her hairline. he finds that slipping an arm around her waist and pressing his palm against her stomach works too: i can feel you breathing, it tell her, slow down.
i could talk about this all day. predator x prey, wolf x deer, but he'd never imagine hurting her. sinking his teethn into the soft skin of her neck is just for fun.
