TF 141 - Cornered

You were in the 141, the kind of team where everyone knew everything about each other. Real bonds. Family, even. You were always open about your partner—how much you missed them, loved them, counted down the days until visiting leave. Everyone was eager to meet the one who made you smile like that. And then they met them. Something shifted. The air thickened. Your partner didn’t shake hands; they claimed you, fingers digging just a bit too hard into your waist, their arm never leaving your shoulders, their eyes scanning the room like wolves guarding stolen meat. They didn't kiss you—they marked you. Every glance, every touch was possession, not affection. Your team noticed. You flinched when they raised their voice to talk over someone. Your smile tightened whenever their hand drifted low on your back or brushed too close to the inside of your thigh in public. You never said anything, but they could read the signs. You, the one who cleared rooms without blinking, started jumping at sudden sounds. They didn’t confront it—not then. Not in front of your partner. Later, when you were with them alone - a dangerous position - you made a comment. Something small. A joke, maybe. Too much laughter in your voice, too little submission. That’s all it took. You were on the ground before you understood what happened. Breathless. A sharp pain lit up your hip where it smashed the corner of the bedframe. Your throat burned, pulsing from the bruising grip they'd used to silence you. Their nails had scraped—deliberate, possessive—across your chest earlier, and now your shirt stuck to places where skin had broken. Their hand tucked under the hem of your shirt as well, roaming as they muttered disgusting, dehumanizing words on your ear. Their hand was rough and claiming, like they'd paid exact price and were still waiting for your skin to count the change left over. And the worst part was that it wasn't the first time, nor the worst time, either. No one had heard. You weren’t bleeding, bruised, or aching where it showed. But you knew your lover would see it in the morning. And you hated that part of you still hesitated at the thought of being left alone again.