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swmgnuts · 3 months

Text

rent day

tw: abuse(not by Keegan), implied sexual assault(not by keegan), no beta we die like men, no pronoun but you used, dark themes, proceed with caution may trigger, please tag what I missed.

A Keegan x gn reader, afab in mind, slow burn, you'll probably meet him in chapter two, please don't be mean :( I have no beta reader. I apologize for grammar and mistakes. English is not my first language.

my ao3

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you took a drag of your cigarette, closed your eyes, leaned your head on the wall behind you, and inhaled the nicotine-filled smoke, letting it work itself inside your system, you stood on your small balcony, your bare feet were cold as it touches the cool cement, you pulled your jacket closer to shield the breeze from your skin, you looked down the third story apartment building,

You watch the people walk by, the night coming to life, drug dealers in the alley, the screaming taxi drivers, the traffic, the cigarette slips between your lips again and you fill your lungs with smoke, the taste is terrible, ashy, and bitter. you'll quit next week, the smoke twirls in the air till a gust of wind let it disappear, you admire the lipstick marks on the orange filter, shit you forget to wipe the makeup off again, you sigh,

your shoulders relax and you decide it is the end of the night for you, you open the balcony door and step inside your warm apartment again, you take the jacket off, let it slip from your shoulders, and let it fall on the couch, you take the cigarette from between your lips and dip it in the ashtray,

you go to the bathroom and take in your mirror reflection, smeared mascara and messy lipstick all over, your foundation is coming off, you take some baby wipes and remove as much as best you can, felt harsh and you rub too hard and it barely came off, frustrated you stepped in the shower, you let the water run hot while you undressed, your worker uniform in the washing machine, you'll need to wear it tomorrow for your afternoon shift,

the steam rises from the hot water and you walk under the showerhead, letting your tense shoulders relax, letting the events of your day play revue again, you got yelled at work, but that's just customer service you guess, then you spilled a drink on your shirt and smelled like caramel coffee the whole day, you tripped in front of a cute customer, a regular even.

then you listened to the gossip at work, your skin prickled at the memory, your two colleagues talked about some man with a balaclava who came into the restaurant every day to order tea or water and just stared at the waiters the whole time like a creep, they said he probably palmed himself under that table. the imagination of it made your face frown with disgust, you noticed him in your shifts more often now, and it made you nervous.

you shampoo your hair and massage it on your head scalp, perhaps you can ask one of your colleagues to change shifts with you, letting the soap rinse you mentally go through the list of who would most likely agree, maybe you should quit altogether, tomorrow a health check will be made and that could be a very good excuse if it anything of the hush-hush secrets would come out, you remember that the grease was too old to be cooked with but didn't get changed or cleaned enough times as it should have, the bathrooms were a health hazard as it is like every std and infections decided that's the best breeding round we've ever seen! the cooks also don't wear their hair nets as prescribed, you don't even think they have the disposable gloves for cooking,

Now that you think about it, how come the place hasn't been shut down long ago? I mean you can't complain, you need the money desperately for your university studies, groceries, and your sweet little dessert you indulge yourself in every week or so.

you step out of the shower, muscles soft and relaxed, and you slip into your pajamas and bed, you'll decide when you have slept, tomorrow you'll probably change your mind.

Your sneakers squeaked on the marble stone of your stairwell, rushing down the steps. fuck fuck fuck shit fuck! you overslept, you barely had time to eat or put real makeup on, you just threw lipstick and mascara in your purse, you'd make yourself pretty in the bathroom for employees, at the last few flights of stairs you were flung to the wall, you groaned at the pain, did you hit your head? and ache started to spread from the back of your head, your vision blurred a bit and you paled, a shadow towered over you and you gripped you purse tighter, a man with a messy beard and a shaved head locked you between the wall and his muscled body, he was sturdy, strong and if he wished so you knew he could hurt you much worse than he just did, he crossed his arms, you felt your breath become shallow.

"Where's my rent, Love?"

he frowned and you looked up and down the stairs, your neighbor was about to step out with a trash bag in hand but as she made eye contact with you and saw your landlord next to you she closed the door again,

"I- uhm, I don't have it on me right now Rick, i'll give it to you after my shift, I promise!-"

he clicked his tongue, he shook his head no his hand grabbed your upper arm, you felt tears well in your eyes, and your breath became heavy. his grip was heavy, he started to drag you up the stairs to your apartment again.

"That's what you said last month and the last before that. you don't think I'm stupid, do you?"

that is going to leave a mark. your head still pounded, you tripped over the stairs and your heart sank to your stomach, only a few stairs now and he's at your door, he did it last time too, a few tears split at the memory.

"rick please give just this shift ill get paid today, please i'll pay it back but-"

SLAM

you curled on the floor and held your waist, the last few stairs hit your side, you tried not to sob. he silently took your purse lying on the floor next to you, searching for keys he dropped whatever you crumpled in it that was in the way, you heard his steps toward your apartment, sitting up, you put a hand on your ribs they were probably blue, they hurt so much, you felt bile raise in your throat.

"Rick please-"

he stared at you, grinning, the keys to your home in his hands, your embarrassing cutesy charms jiggling, he unlocked the door and heard him trash your home, searching for rent, your secret stash of savings, you closed your eyes your breath deepens,

in out, in out, in out, everything will be okay-

you hear him throw furniture, glass breaking, other things hitting the floor you can only imagine. you pull your shirt up, just some bruises but it hurts, you really should have stayed in bed, or remembered that its rent day. you try to move, stand up to follow Ricky in your apartment but you feel dizzy and nausea flood your head, apropos that's still hurting like a bitch too.

you hiss at the stabs in your side, did he really fucking break your ribs because of some missing rent? you slide to the wall to let your head rest against the wallpaper, fuck you'll be late to work, Chris will be angry. you huff, at least he stopped this time, at least he started to search for keys in your purse earlier than-

a hand meets your cheek, your head swings to the side and the string of pain follows.

"Next time, just give me the damn money, better for both of us."

his hot breath pants in my face, his fist knotted In my hair, he's holding a small tin lunch box, FOR UNI. in your handwriting. he drops it in your lap and makes his way down the stairs, talking in some language you don't bother to recognize, shouting, then yelling happily, you catch the phrases of finally getting something to drink and celebrate, the rest is blurry, your hearing ringing as fat tears rolled down your face, sobs escape your throat and you could just hold your tin with silly cats on it and curse anything that led to this moment, feet stop at your side and you quickly wipe your nose, tears and trying to stop the ache in your throat to speak.

"Are you okay? Did he punch hard?"

Margret, your elder neighbor crouched down and sat next to you she rubbed your back and it was just enough smoothing to completely break down in front of her, your sobs became louder, tears fell on your lap and you desperately wiped them with your sleeve, other neighbors looked out the split of their door, some others came to your side too, checking up on you.

"let's get you inside"

you were gently lifted and with a blurry sight escorted to your apartment, as you walked inside you wanted to cry more, everything on the floor, was a mess you weren't in the capacity to clean, Margret sighed next to you, walking inside you sat on the couch, the senior going in your kitchen to set the kiddle on.

"What a brute."

you looked behind you inside the kitchen and saw plates and mugs shattered, you wiped your tears the last time and walked to market to help her pick up the shattered pieces, kneeling on the floor you tried to be careful not to cut yourself on the sharp glass, you felt Magret pitying gaze, suddenly it felt a little embarrassing to have cried so much, Ricky has treated the people in this apartment like this ever since he became the landlord, it became worse with time, the seniors slowly moved out, the younger people didnt even move in, in the first place because every one in a ten miles radius and ears knew what he did for his money, but when you moved in- years ago, it took its peak, the only person in his age range, you became a target of his `advantces` but when you rejected him, he liked to came earlier to collect, last time he only stopped because Margret threated to call the police, she looked at your bruises with guilt for weeks.

The floor looks better now, the biggest pieces are gone. you stood up, Margret just pouring two mugs tea,

“Margret, i still need to work, i really can't- i need the extra shift..”

she looked down, sad, a little concerned. she nodded.

“fine, i'll look out here, call if he follows you.”

a look exchanged, it wouldn't be the first time, it scared you shitless last time.

this time you ran down the stairs, you were so fucking late, you ran the busy streets, the noon traffic was pumping, rude people of Business, in expensive suits and starbucks in hand, models walking the street, the restaurant was only a few blocks down twenty minutes walk, fifteen if you ran, but you speed walked, if you ran now youd collapse with the pulsing ache from your ribs, walking felt like forever, people looked at you like you grew two heads, did you look that bad? Maybe, Ricky did rough you up good. you took a short cut into a alley, trash cans and rubbish all over the place, you then saw a broken lunch table, some crapy garden plastic chairs and three people eating their lunch in front the back door of the Restorant. A blondie lets her lunch fall on the table and abruptly stood up to rush to you.

“Oh my god!! what happened to you?? did you get mugged?”

her voice was squeaky, feminine and worried. she put her hands on your face, turning it to inspect, noticing the girl spring up, the other two looked in your direction, the blondie blocked your view through, her blue eyes prickled with concern, her hair open and messy, dead ends and frizzy like hay, fried from her iron.

“Jenny I'm fine, just some trouble with my landlord, Where's Chris?”

she rolled her eyes, her hands drop to her side.

"That asshole? he didn't even show up, i had to clean everything alone for the heath inspector! could you believe it? Where were you? I really could have needed you!”

“sorry.. i overslept”

she shrugged, walking over to her chair and sits to eat her lunch again, Tyler, the bartender with brown short buzz cut hair twirls his cigarette between his finger, wrinkles in the corner of his green eyes scowl with a frown, his age permanently etched in his face, a charm that made him trusting.

he sat next to her, leaned back and occasionally taking a drag, David across of him, timidly sitting on a few empty carton boxes, his back hunched and hands twirling thumbs, he eyes you up from beneath his curly red hair, his eye contact breaking every few seconds, he nodded a hello as you greeted the two men.

“good to see you sweetheart”

Tylers raspy father like voice chimes, you hummed as you pushed the heavy door open, a wave of hot air that smelled like all kinds of lunch food that's on the menus greets you, the kitchen is as busy as every, cooks over the hot fire stoves sweating and cursing over the dish, people running in and out, you quickly made your way to the employee changing room, almost bumping into someone with hot grease in a pot.

–

in the crappy mirror with specks of dirt you saw the damage, a busted lip, a bruise in the shape of a hand on your cheek, messy hair and puffy red eyes, a runny nose. you sigh and open your purse, your powder is cracked, and some mascara spilled, but itll work, you scrambled in your purse all your makeup and in search of your favorite lipstick you find your phone and a dozen calls of Chris.

a muttered curse you call back, squeeze the phone between your shoulder and ear and applied fondation to the hand shaped bruise, smearing it with your finger.

beep beep beep-

“where the fuck were you? did you know how concerned i was? i thought you died or some shit, just call if you don't want to work i don't care but say something!”

you pulled out a powder brush, gently stroking your cheek.

“i know, i know, im sorry, today was rent day and i totally missed it and i overslept-”

you pulled out a soft shade of lipstick, you smeared it a little.

“fucks sake, just move out already! that guy beats you for every cent you own him”

you fix your hair to get out of the way, something quick and easy.

“I know, I just don't have the time or money! you know i have studies and i need to eat, plus the rent is as cheap as can be, ill find no other place i could afford”

you pack everything in your purse, lock it in your locker and put on your apron.

“Jenny was also in a place like that, what`d she do to get out?”

you sigh, you wanted to go home again, this isnt what you want, you want home, a sweet haven where you sleep till ten and eat pizza for breakfast.

“she got a sugar daddy..”

it was a quiet mutter, you blushed a little, maybe youll look into it.

“see? get one of those, problem solved, then you can work undisturbed”

you fluster more.

“No Chris a sugar daddy is when you wont have to–”

“AH AH AH DONT TELL ME WHAT YOULL DO TO YOUR SUGAR DADDY! DISGUSTING, I DONT WANNA KNOW”

he hang up, you looked at your phone screen with a small smile, Chris a dork at times, but a good guy, he tried his best. tying the apron a little tighter you walked out to the main area, meddling with all kinds of people now getting their lunch before returning to work.

its a start of a long shift.

#keegan russ x reader #keegan p russ #yandere scenarios #sugar daddy #fanfic #call of duty #call of duty ghosts #yandere #obsessive love #obsessive keegan #occ #occ keegan #the wizard wrote #headcanons #gn reader #only pronoun used is you #cod keegan

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swmgnuts · 5 months

Text

You’ll Never betray Me, right?

Established relationship, like makarov is in looove😍.

Can be read as Stockholm syndrome reader, although not intentionally written.

Smooching time with Makarov‼️‼️

Makarov my love that would never be mean to you when your upset💔

When you are crying about something silly or are just overwhelmed He’d laugh and say something insensitive like “Ugh are you crying again??”

Pretends to be annoyed when you cry more but then pulls you into his chest and sways with you side to side,

Actually has the biggest grin imaginable, because your crying and leaning into HIM not anybody else but HIM,

Don’t leant too far into him tho you might feel his boner

After you finished crying and are just a tear stained mess of sobs and in search of more comfort of leaning more into him, he pulls your face in his hand and guides your face to his to give you a kiss, he isn’t considerate of his harsh stubble beard that rubs uncomfortably against your sensitive skin but you swear the best comfort he can give is those over the top and overwhelming kisses that drown out everting that made you cry.

If it’s really bad, he’ll hold your head in both his hands and stick his finger in your ear so you can only hear the sounds inside your mouth, your moans, his grunts, how your tongues swing.

It calms you down often, his roughness became comfort.

And if even that isn’t enough, he’ll huff and say stuff like,

“Isn’t my love enough for you Любимая?”

You are still sniffling and some stray tears escape your sad eyes, that look at him with so much hurt, like a kicked puppy that’s now whimpering and whining for comfort from their owner,

And what kind of owner would Makarov be if he didn’t take care of his most precious pet?

Although every dirty and kinda perverted plan of comfort was completely thrown off when you Kissed him yourself.

It started with a peck next to the lips as a taste, you literally licked your lips and tasted the chapstick you forced him to use, the memory of how red and embarrassed he was to use something as ‘girly’ as chapstick made you pause and giggle for a second.

The sight made Makarov give you excess to every part of his body to keep you react like that, he would never admit it but, this is one of the true signs he loves you.

Not that he’d kill for you or do every crime under the sun for you, No.. Killing is easy for him but being vulnerable like this, with his heart exposed for just a second.

That’s his kind of love.

And while you continued to kiss him, his lips, neck, cheek, collarbone. You couldn’t help but smell his cologne, you buried your nose into the crook of his neck and memorised the smell.

And Makarov took that as a sign to get undressed, first his gear, his jacket and shirt, till he stood with only his pants in front of you,

“If you like my cologne that much I’ll make sure you smell like nobody else other that me tomorrow”

His corky smirk while he said that made you a bit Touch deprived?

You wanted to crawl into his skin and only feel his warmth, nobody else’s, you wanted to die in his arms and be buried in his soul for the end of time, you wanted to devour him so once you are gone, a part of him will always be with you.

It made you bury yourself deeper into his body, now kissing his naked upper body with pleads of him never leaving, of please staying by your side forever, you couldn’t live without him.

It made Makarov so proud to hear that from you, he knew the perfect reward!

So after your pelvis was destroyed, your legs numb and Too many bite marks and hickeys left on your body, Makarov kneeled on the bed, before his new master piece, he was a little out of breath but appreciated was he created none the less.

Your expression fucked out of your mind, your eyelids half lidded, probably half asleep, panting while your chest rises and fell, your tired arms stretching out to ask for innocent cuddles, and because you were being such a good pet today, he indulged into your childish requests of comfort.

It wasn’t like he hated them though so keep asking him for cuddles and all this embarrassing stuff that humiliates him and his pride, like goodbye kisses and morning cuddles… maybe he does like them.

Now in your arms, you looked into each others eyes, the silence was nice.. he memorises the swirls of Color in your eyes and the shade of black in your iris, he gently pulled stray strands of hair away from your face, and you admired his scars and tattoos he has on his chest, tracing for the ink, tickling his skin, making him smile and laugh a bit when you’d frown at his ‘heavy’ scars, the deep ones, the ones that hurt.

Which made his smile and laughter drop, a question he wished his mind would never demand him to ask you, you looked up at his with your beautiful eyes, innocently, naively, you would never would you?

Suddenly the amusement and light heartiness in his eyes were gone, a cold stare that you couldn’t handle was placed there instead and you immediately ripped your hand away from his chest like you’d be burned, it made him frown more.

“You’d never betray me… right?“

Hurt and A certain sharpness was in his voice, where was this coming from? Did you do something wrong?

„W-What? Makarov what are you talk-„

He grabbed you face in one hand and squeezed your jaw too tightly to not be painful, intentionally, Makarov knew how much force to put to hurt or be gentle with you, you knew better than anyone else.

„You are never going to betray me, Right?“

You couldn’t even respond as his grip tighten around your jaw, you could already feel the strain.

„Answer Darling. Im quite impatient with questions don’t you know?“

The only responds you could manage with shivering hand and tear welled eyes and to cup his face and kiss him the most passionate way you could with the pain in your jaw, and it worked, his hand got looser but never left your face, his eyelids fluttered half closed as they mustered your expression.

After a while you pulled away and you took the opportunity to speak again,

„If you want to kill me, let me kiss you enough for both our life times.“

Wow okay kinda romantic, got me blushing tbh ISKYJFJD

Anyways that night, Makarov may or may not looked at wedding rings after you fell asleep again.

Yeah I think that’s it for this post tbh and if the wasn’t enough for you then they lived happily ever after in a toxic relationship where reader could never really afford a therapist but a random ratty Russian man you picked off the street and decided that husband material (THATS MEEE‼️‼️‼️‼️IM READER‼️‼️‼️‼️)

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