Overthinking like my life depends on it

Maybe it was all the teasing during the day, him calling you into his office every 20 minutes to lecture you about the error in the report that was fine an hour ago when you gave it to him, the way you brewed his coffee or how your uniform was innapropriate even if you've been complaining for weeks that they gave you the wrong size.

The tension has been accumulating for a while, all the little comments and the mocking glances towards you every time it was your turn to do something. Making you feel like you needed to prove that you actually deserved your place amongst them and when you did it again and again, it was treated like some happy accident. All your qualifications and years of experience on the field pushed aside and ignored. It was infuriating, every chuckle making you grip the handle of the gun so tight, you were afraid it was gonna snap. Laswell warned you before your transfer that even amongst the elite task forces where everyone's talents were proved by their presence alone, you were gonna be pushed aside. "Grown men playing it like it's a boys' club" she said disdainfully.

Maybe it was naive of you to still hope for people to be reasonable, but the first time during briefing before a mission when Price said that a coffee would be nice and pointendly looked at you, it was hard to hide your dissapointment. All the moments when you would speak up and have your ideas and suggestions ignored only for Gaz or Soap to say the same thing a few minutes later and get an approving smile and a pat on the back from the captain. It didn't matter that you could hold your own during missions, your sniper skills on par with Ghost's, they would give you an indulgent smile at best or an exasperated sight at worst like you were some small dog barking at them and it was starting to go from cute to annoying.

You curse yourself for falling so easily into this trap, perhaps all the days of having to stay overtime to make up for errors that weren't yours, all that frustration and loneliness finally culminated to this moment. Mistaking Price's change in attitude for acknowledgement, desperately clinging to every crumb of approval tossed your way just to end up with your pants around your ankles and Price behind you in the supply closet.

His talk about you finally stopping trying to play soldier and behaving like a proper cunt sending a wave of shame all over your body and something else. All that fury that was buried under clipped smiles, pushed aside for the sake of keeping the peace at your expense. It's in the bits of old paint gathered under your fingernails, the grind of your teeth as your jaw clenches, the bitter taste in your mouth that you've gotten tired of swallowing.

When you hear him saying that he's getting close, your body moves on its own. He isn't ready for your hand pushing him away, stumbling on his ass on the cold floor. Before his shock could make way for anger, you press your boot over his cock, not outright painful, but firm and start moving your foot.

"Come on, didn't you say you were close? Go ahead and finish like this."

Price looks like he's about to argue, but when he opens his mouth all that comes out is broken moan. A smirk starts streching on your face when you see him moving his hips against your boot, groaning all the way as spurs of cum get all over his uniform. His breath is heavy, a dust of red covering his cheeks. The small sound escaping his lips when your hand goes to the back of his head, fingers interlocking through his hair and pulling hard, only encourages you further, bringing his head closer to the concrete floor.

"Clean it up." You say it almost bored, the meeting is in 10 minutes, you should probably finish up here quickly and go.

cw: implied past abuse

The first thing you see as soon as the cover of your cage is lifted are four pair of eyes staring intently at you. Still feeling a little woozy from the sedative they gave you before ending up in the cage, it takes a few seconds for the blurry shapes of their faces to arrange properly into discernible features. The closest one to you is a bear hybrid, big and hairy arms crossed to his chest. Looking you up and down, not with outright disdain, but more like you're another responsability that got handed to him, trying to measure how much trouble you're gonna be.

The two behind him, a wolf and a panther hybrid look much more friendly, smiling curiously towards you, but that doesn't help ease your anxiety. A lot of carers from the center would smile when handling you too roughly if you were deemed too difficult or uncooperative, their smiles so large so that the sight of their fangs would make you stop squirming away. The worst part is that they weren't especially malicious, maybe too bored and with little patience for how slow or clumsy you were to perform the various tricks they would give you. A normal part of your training they would say, even if your bruises tell another story so you no longer trust smiles and hands that hide fangs and claws and brute force to which your body just can't stand a chance to.

To the left and a bit away from the cage the fourth hybrid stares blankly at you, a snow leopard you notice. He seems to be the least interested in you, but you don't miss the way his tail is swishing around a little anxiously, his clipped ears flicking around as if he's always on his guard for any danger that might come his way. It's the bear hybrid who you correctly assumed to be the leader that speaks to you:

"We are your new handlers and you'll be living with us for the foreseeable future. We will treat you well as long as you don't cause any troubles. Did I make myself understood?"

"Yes, sir."

You think you hear a muffled "At least this one has some manners" that you don't bother to find out from who it comes before the cage door opens with a loud screech that bothers more the hybrids with their more sensible hearing than you. No point in delaying the inevitable so you get out slowly, belatedly noticing the wrapped snack in the panther hybrid's hands probably meant to gently lure you out. You don't go for it, but can at least appreciate the sentiment.

After that they sit you down and their leader whose name you learned is Price lays some ground rules for you. It's the usual: don't go outside by yourself, don't make a mess, always wear the identification bracelet on your wrist in case you ever end up getting lost and most important of all don't cause trouble while they're gone. You nod your head to each one, trying to hide your relief at the fact that no punishment was mentioned until now, but not missing the heavier tone in Price's voice at the last rule. It's clear it wasn't their choice to have you here, but won't take it out on you.

Soap and Gaz are definitely the happier ones with your presence, both having little interaction with humans in the past. Ghost is still keeping his distance, his posture more relaxed now, the creases between his brows less deepened than they were a few hours ago. It's clear that they don't really know how to behave around you, oscillating between leaving you to your own devices and get used to the new environment to bombarding you with questions regarding your diet and routines.

They seem especially worried about where you're gonna sleep, your arrival was earlier than expected so they didn't prepare the space for you properly.

"I'll just sleep in the cage tonight."

The looks on their faces are something between shock and anger and that gets you worried, not even a full day here and you're already messing up. If they send you back to the adoption center that'll be a permanent stain on your record and future adoptions will be much more difficult. You scramble to smooth things out:

"I am very quiet, sleep soundlessly the entire night. You can lock the cage if you're worried about me wandering around while you're asleep."

"There's no need for that, little one. Why don't you sleep on the couch and tomorrow we buy you a proper bed, eh?"

Price says the words with a gentleness that surprises even Ghost, only when none of the others argues back do you finally say something:

"Thank you, sir"

"Only John is fine."

"Thank you, John."

For the first time since you arrived, you see the smallest begining of a smile streching on his lips, his eyes arranging into something softer. A tentative hand goes towards you and it takes all your self control not to visibly flinch, still, the way your body goes rigid is plenty visible. He gently pats you on the back of your shoulder, his palm lingering for a moment longer:

"Get some sleep now, we'll talk more tomorrow."

They are about to leave the living room when John turns back one last time:

"Good night, little one and welcome home."

Suddenly feeling much bolder you take a tentative lick, the slightly salty taste pleasurable on his own. Maybe just a little more until your husband wakes up, sucking first the tip and then slowly making your way down his member, jaw already aching a little at the strech. You almost jolt up when you feel a hand gently patting your head, but firmly keeping you in place, fingers curling through your hair, but not yet pulling it, nails slightly scratching at your scalp.

"That's certainly an interesting way to start the morning. I guess last night wasn't enough for you." He says in a teasing tone.

"Just wanted to do something nice for you."

"You're always too nice, darling. You'll end up spoiling me. How would I be able to leave then?"

The thought of him leaving again on another deployment in a few weeks has you both sad and a little angry. Maybe that's why you surprise him by taking his entire lenght in your mouth, barely supressing the reflex to gag and then slowly lifting your head up, sucking a little harder on his tip, the way you know he likes it.

"Having fun down there, sweetheart?"

"Mhm... "

"Now don't let me spoil your fun. You know I like watching you enjoy yourself."

He leans against the headboard, legs spread to give you more space, an inviting look on his face and that's your cue to get back to what you were doing before. Now that he's fully awake, why not tease him a little? With one hand you lazily stroke his cock, cupping his balls with the other, watching his body stiffen, a whispered "fucking hell, love" escaping through his lips followed by a breathy moan.

Part of you thinks about teasing him a little more, but it's clear he might not last much longer. As if on cue his hand goes back to your hair pulling on it, not hard, but firm:

"Do you mind if I get a little rough?"

"Go ahead, dear."

"Tap twice on my thigh if it gets too much, ok?"

As soon as you nod he starts setting the pace, his hips bucking upwards into your mouth. Everything is messy, spit and Cum dripping down as the hand on the back of your head keeps you in place. Small hairs tickle your nose. You feel it before it's coming, his eyes roll back as he lets out a string of curses broken by moans and that motivates you further. Digging your nails into his thigh, you ignore the need to breath properly for just a few more moments as hot ribbons of cum spill into your mouth. You do your best to catch every drop and swallow everything and cleaning him up with your tongue to see him whimper a bit more.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and gulping all the air you've been deprived of, you finally look up at your husband. He smiles at you a little embarrassed, his features arranging themselves into a grateful expression, his posture finally fully relaxed since he came back home. Next thing you know you end up on your back as he pins you to the mattress, legs spread to acomodate him. Your husband lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, a smirk playing on his face that means trouble:

shifter!Price smelled you since you took the first step into his territory, perhaps that's why he didn't mauled you right then and there. Under the chemical smell of sunscreen and deodorant that made him curl his nose in displeasure, he could feel something else, something sweet like overripe fruit. As he gets closer and closer while you're turning around in circles, the smell gets stronger. His assumption about you being an enemy or a spy sent into his territory are quickly dissolved after seeing your unproper equipment for the terrain. He easily subdues your trashing around and that's when he finally discovers where that sweet smell is coming from, right there at the base of your throat. He licks you there and up your jaw, humming in pleasure. John thinks he might just keep you for a while.

shifter!Ghost looks almost dissapointed at the way you stop squirming so easily, your body too tired from the hours long hike, the last remains of precious energy consumed running around in circles. He has missing patches of fur along his body that never grew back even when his injuries healed, leaving behind gashes and scars. One of his ears it's more than halfway chopped, but his hearing's still sharp by the way his ears react to every little sound around. The sight of the tears falling down your cheeks gets him even more excited as he licks them hungrily. Your bewildered expression only amuses him further. He looks at the blisters and the small cuts littering your body that you've gotten by running through the spiky bushes. Human skin really is so fragile, it would be so easy to just bite down and draw blood.

shifter!Soap enjoyed scaring you just a little during your hike. Of course, that was just a little lesson for you to pay better attention and not wonder into someone else's territory, but each jolt of your shoulders and panicked look only made him want to tease you more. The others liked to say about Ghost that he leans a bit too much into his instincts, but he always pointed towards Johnny calling him the real mutt. If he gets called one, he might at least act like one, the chase was fun, but he is ready to put an end to it. Even when you still can't see him, he can clearly hear the rapid beating of your heart, the blood in your veins surging through your body in a way that makes his mouth water. The moment he pounces on you, he thinks he likes your scream too. Don't be scared now, he might play a little rough, but he always takes care of what is his.

"I dreamed about ice cream last night."

"What?"

"I was in an ice cream shop and wanted chocolate and raspberry, but every time the owner would try scooping out any of those flavours, they would just melt right off. At some point I got so frustrated that I leaped over the counter, took a spoon and ate the ice cream soup as it was."

For some reason the image of a grown man slurping furiously over a pot of melted ice cream manages to steal a chuckle or two out of you:

"I would give anything right now for some good ice cream or proper food in general."

"What's your favourite type?"

"Mint chocolate chip and no it doesn't taste like toothpaste."

"If that's what you like to believe, lass."

The two of you spend the rest of the day there talking about everything and nothing, ignoring the food dropped every few hours. Johnny as he later told you to call him tells you about his years in the military, speaking fondly of his teammates, wheezing with laughter when you call Ghost a tryhard for the skull mask and skeleton gloves because do they actually just let people in the military dress like it's Halloween? You tell him about friends and old annoying bosses, but everything feels so far away that it's like you're telling someone else's story, at some point unsure if some of the things you said are actually true or were just dreams your mind conjured in desperate moments of loneliness.

You separate when the alarm for going to sleep sounds off, only then realising that they have already dimmed the lights. The next few days go like that, your little routine something that you start looking out for, unaware of the multiple pair of eyes monitoring your every move. It's not until one morning when there are no longer any bars separating the two enclosures that you remember what bringing Johnny to you was all about. You don't have the heart to break his spirits as the first thing he does when he sees that the bars are no longer there is running up to you and hugging you. And what else can you do other than reciprocate it?

After that he starts spending more time into your half of the enclosure, talking and eating together, one day he even timidly tries lightly intertwining your fingers as you make your daily rounds around the perimeter of the bars, now taking advantage of the bigger space to roam around. You let him do it, telling yourself it doesn't mean anything, that the two of you are just two lonely creatures light years away from their home at the mercy of something too powerful. You can let yourself have at least this much, right?

You're not that naive as not to see the way Johnny sometimes looks at you, the reticence in his step when the day is over and he has to go back to his own sleeping space. Even if he never says anything, the silent plea in his eyes before he turns around and leaves is getting harder to ignore every day. You cling to each other a little longer after every night spent apart, him tickling the spot behind your knee, your fingers going through his grown out hair as he leans more into your touch, his head resting on your shoulder. You find that you can't bring yourself to push him away.

It feels nice, you can't deny that, you find yourself tracing old scars and counting the moles on his body. Perhaps that's how it finally happens. One moment you're laughing at one of his terrible jokes as you walk beside him to where the separating wall was and then you see it in his eyes before it happens. Maybe it's the way they adjusted the lights, making it look like a sunset, shades of pink and orange dusting Johnny's face as he looks at you like you're the most precious thing in the world.

He moves slowly, giving you time to push him away and scream at him, but you do none of those things. He places his palm on your cheek, his thumb moving slowly, eyes searching for any kind of discomfort in your features. Johnny's face stops a few centimeters away from your own, feeling the warmth of his breaths on your lips when he asks you:

"Can I?"

The only answer he gets is you closing up the remaining space between the two of you, both moving clumsily like it's your first kiss all over again. Your palms are on his chest as he places his arm around your waist, bringing you even closer if that was possible. It's hard to tell if the kiss lasts hours or just a few seconds, but when the two of you finally part, breathing a little heavy and lips a bit swollen, it feels right.

Ghost sabotages your date every step on the way, scares the guy when he picks you up, squeezing his hand too hard when shaking it. He makes no move to stop Riley from barking at your date and as soon as you and guy leave he gives the dog a treat for scaring away the intruder. Someone slashed the tires on your date's car and that puts him in a bad mood for the entire taxi ride. At some point during the very boring meal a scared expression washes over your date's face when he glances at his phone for the tenth time in the last 20 minutes. Looking around panicked, he gives an half-assed excuse and leaves the table without paying his share of the meal. Simon takes his place not even a minute later, putting a wallet that is not his on the table and telling you to order whatever you want.

Gaz takes the opportunity while you're in the shower to go through your phone and delete the messages from the guy telling you that he'll be late and suggesting at the last moment another meeting spot. He scoffs at that, confirming to himself for the hundredth time that your date wasn't good enough for you and promptly deletes the last two messages. Half an hour later when he gets a call that you got stood up and your phone battery is almost dead, he's already on his way. Kyle is more than happy to take you on a real date. You're already dressed up so why not take advantage of the opportunity? He knows a good restaurant that the two of you can check out. If your phone starts ringing while you're gone to the bathroom, he promptly blocks the contact.

Soap is secretely pleased when your date shows up and looks much more scrawny than he expected, intentionally flexing his muscles and putting an arm around your shoulder and goofing around. If your date seems uncomfortable he just plays it off as the two of you just being really close, "basically family" he says as he winks, joking about how his mom is waiting for the two of you to visit tomorrow. His grandma especially keeps asking about you, having already prepared all your favourite dishes. As if on cue his phone starts ringing and after a few seconds he passes it to you telling you that his nieces want to talk to you. By the time you get off the phone your date is gone, none of your messages going through. Johnny has a pained expression on his face as he comforts you, telling you that you deserve better than a guy who gets cold feet on the first date. It's ok, bonnie, you have people in your life loving you, after all you're basically part of the family.

When you tell Nikolai that you have a date tonight, he chuckles and smiles like he's indulging an unruly pet. He compliments you right in front of your date, sincere and a little flirty, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. He gets on one knee and helps you put your shoes on and then your jacket while the guy stares awkwardly, but doesn't dare say anything with the looks Nik gives him when you're not looking. For some reason at the restaurant there's no reservation with your date's name, not only that but he's actually on a banned list for disruptive and violent behaviour on multiple occasions. As he starts trashing around while the security escorts him out, the waiter tells you that your husband is waiting for you in a private booth. It's hard to be mad at Nikolai when he looks at you that way, telling you to sit down because he has a surprise for you.

Philip doesn't even bother to hide his displeased expression when seeing your date. He starts picking apart everything about him, from the way he was dressed, the restaurant he picked out to how he already interrupted you two times in the last 10 minutes and didn't even bother to take off the clearance tag from the flowers he gave you. As if things weren't going bad enough for your date, his car won't start so Philip decides to drive his car with you in the passenger seat and the sulking date in the back seat. If it just so happens that Philip had to park the car in such a way that the guy stepped in a puddle, it was inevitable. When he starts swearing and screaming around, two of Philip's shadows just take him away while the commander gently caresses the small of your back:

For some reason there are a lot of them watching you today, which still unnerves after all this time here. No matter how they pricked and proded at your skin, doing test after test and gawking at your reactions like a couple of bored children playing with a small animal, you can't shake the chills down your spine from their gazes. There's an opaque screen on one of the "outdoor" walls which wasn't there when you went to sleep and you can't help but feel drawn to it.

That seems to be what they want as a few of the spectators throw some packets of food in that direction to encourage you to get there. You try not to let the gesture feel as humiliating as it is. Even if they stripped your humanity a long time ago, now something no different from a zoo animal, you pick at the last shreds of dignity and pointingly ignore the blocks of dehydrated food. They never bothered enough with creating fresh food, finding it more convenient to imitate the cellular composition of astronauts' supplies found in the past.

The screen starts lifting slowly and at first you think your eyes are deceiving you, but after being away from home for so long you're finally face to face to another human. By his startled reaction you think it might be the same for him. He was recently brought in, you can tell by the small bumps on his arm from all the testing, also adding the period of quarantine they must have held him, you suspect he's been abducted for a few months now.

You're looking at him with curiosity, but there's something desperate in the way he's looking back at you. Putting your hand through the bars you want to see if it would pass through, if his image was just a hologram, a trick they devised to play with your mind further. To your surprise the tip of you finger touches a cheek that feels like flesh, even the small hairs of his unshaved beard tingle. Blue eyes stare intently at your movements and startle when a warm fingertip give the smallest touch, his body angling towards you for more.

Suddenly he grabs your hand in his and squeezing it hard, murmuring something under his breath and you have to strain yourself to try to understand him. Luckily he speaks english, but his accent make some of his words hard to make out. You think you hear something along the lines: "They're dead, they're dead, every last of them is gone. Are you even real?".

"Hey, it's ok. Take a few breaths, I know things seem scary right now, but if you look too agitated they're gonna sedate you."

The last words bring a pained expression over his face as if he's remembering something. His hand squeezes yours too hard, but you ignore the pain as your fingers start to go a little numb because this is the first human contact you've had in over a year and you can't bear to let go. Belatedly you remember them watching eagerly the two of you like waiting for a chemical reaction, somehow eager and bored at the same time.

An unpleasant feeling washes over you so despite craving the human touch for a moment longer, you wiggle your hand away and take a step back. The man looks as if you physically injured him, his hand streching through the bars towards you, but not able to touch. You think there's tears threatening to spill from his eyes and you feel the same sting. As you turn around wanting to return to your sleeping space, you hear him say:

"John, my name is John."

You nod and also tell him your name, the sound of it feels foreign on your tongue, but at least it calms him down. This meeting feels wrong, despite your loneliness and desperation you can't help but think that there's more to it than just giving you a companion. They disregarded your needs for so long that it's hard not to feel suspicious now.

The next day you wake up much earlier than usual and when you get out of your sleeping space and something catches your eye. It's somewhere close to the common wall and as you ge closer you finally see what it is: a doll resembling a baby. What surprises you the most is just how much the doll looks like you to the point it's uncanny, the same skin tone and hair type. The only different thing is the pair of blue eyes that stare right at you and then everything falls into place, shattering the parameters of your life yet again.Right then as if on cue the same children's song starts playing just as John comes out his sleeping space, a small smile on his face as he waves at you.