#Brock Rumlow x Reader

[littledark11]

That man is such a nasty man 🫠🫠 but I'm putty in his hands so I should not be complaining.

I feel bad for reader, all she wanted was just to get power in her room not to get dick down by her landlord but then again he's taking care of her, who's really complaining?

In From The Cold

Warnings: noncon, somnophilia, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Summary: The power goes out on Christmas and your landlord comes over to keep you warm.

Character: Brock Rumlow

Day Twenty-Nine of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - the electricity is out, let's keep each other warm.

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The knock at the door makes you jump. You’re not a child, you shouldn’t be afraid of the dark. Yet, since the power flickered and fizzled out, you’ve been on high alert. Your nerves are frazzled and the shadows nestling in the corners are playing tricks on you. It’s only because you’re alone. Really, you’re not a coward. 

You shine the light on your phone ahead of you as you move around the soft silhouettes of the furniture. Without power, you won’t be able to recharge it once it drains. The only other light is single candle burning that does little to ward off the obscurity. It only fills the house with the scent of mulled cider. 

You go to the door. That should be the landlord. You’re not sure who else would bother on Christmas Day. You flip back the lock and open the door. Rumlow’s gritty growl greets you as he shields himself from your phone light with his large hand. 

“Shoot, sorry,” you lower your phone as he squints in irritation. 

“Hmm,” he grumbles. “What’s goin’ on?” 

“I’m sorry. I know it’s Christmas but the power--” 

“Doesn't matter,” he waves off your apology, “what were ya doin’ when it went out?” 

You’re not sure it’s a genuine question so much as an accusation. You rarely bother the leaser as he often meets you with the same simmering agitation. He’s like a bear and just a smile is a poke in his side. You don’t want to bother him more than you need to. 

You hug yourself with one arm and shiver. No heat, no power. He tilts his head and sighs. He steps inside and you back up. He shuts the door with a sigh. “Well?” 

“Um, I was watching a movie, sir,” you don’t know why you add that last title; it feels appropriate. “I only had a lamp on and the kettle for hot chocolate.” 

He doesn’t respond. You feel the judgment roiling off of him. He must think you a ridiculous girl, like the rest of your roommates. You all know Rumlow can barely stand you but your rent is his profit. 

“What about the others?” He asks as if reading your mind. 

“Well, er, they went home for Christmas, sir,” you unfold your arm and chafingly grip your wrist instead. 

“Mm,” he grumbles again. 

He kneels to unlace his boots. You wonder if he has a family. If you dragged him away from a lovely dinner with presents and children. With the people he preserves his love for. 

“I’m sorry if I spoiled your holiday,” you say. 

“Fuck Christmas,” he snarls as he puts his boots aside and stands. His figure is draped in black like a horror movie villain, looming, waiting to pounce. Your phone light points behind you, offering little clarity. 

“Oh, uh, yeah.” You utter as you stare at him, clueless. 

He huffs again. He steps forward and you retreat out of his way. He stalks down the hall without explanation and you stay where you are. He stops at the door behind the stairs, right before the kitchen. He sniffs and raises his blurry hand. 

“Bring that light.” 

“Oh, sure,” you leap into a scurry. 

He opens the door and proceeds down the stairs without waiting for you to catch up. You shine the light over him, illuminating his broad shadow against the wall ahead of him. He lumbers down as you keep a few steps back. You trail after him as he goes into the second room of the basement. 

He pulls open the metal cover of the switch board. You sidle up beside him to give light to the rows of switches. He leans in and narrows his eyes. He drags his fingertips over them all. He curls his lip and snarls. 

Your eyes flick to him as the light of your phone limns his gruff features. His stubble darkens his jaw, the cleft of his chin deep, and his brown eyes look black as they swallow up any gleam. He’s a large man, ornery, and strict. You suppose you should want that in someone tasked to manage a property. 

“You girls paying your bills?” He clucks. 

You wince, “yes, sir. Always.” 

“Mm, well, you know... dealt with a lot of ya. Not always the case.” He shuts the metal box and you squeak at the noise. 

“You can’t fix it?” 

“Did I say that?” He snips. You shake your head. 

“Power company will need to come check the meter. Buncha morons,” he sneers as herds you out of the room just by stomping toward you. You retreat on your heels. 

“The power company?” You echo thinly. 

“No service on holidays,” he puffs as you barely keep from getting underfoot. You swerve to let him past. He continues to the stairs as you follow like some lost child. “You’ll have to wait.” 

“Oh, but sir--” 

“Relax,” he climbs the stairs without pause. “Got a portable heater in the truck.” 

“Oh, okay, um--” 

“Get more candles. A flashlight,” he commands. 

“I couldn’t find any,” you sniffle. 

“Don’t got any,” he scoffs under his breath. 

You come back to the first floor and stop by the door as he marches down the hall. You stare after him dumbly. The power’s going to be out all night? On Christmas? 

“Close that door.” He stops to put his boots on again. “Wanna keep the heat in. Go around. Check the doors and windows.” 

He tramps out the front door without awaiting your acquiescence. There’s something about him that brooks no argument. You cast your phone light ahead of you like a shield against the shadows and hurry upstairs. You work your way through, checking that all windows are shut, doors too. 

As you come back downstairs, he’s there again. There’s a large block next to him as he strips off his boots. He hauls it with a single hand into the front room. You keep your distance as you watch him from the doorway. He puts it centre, across from the sofa, and twists the switch. The heater glows a sinister red. 

“Um, thanks, sir,” you scratch your ear as you aim the light at him. He waves at you like a gnat. You turn the light off as the heater offers a dulcet glow. 

He unzips his jacket as you stare. What is he doing? 

“I don’t need you suing me,” he rasps. “Dealt with enough of you girls.” 

He folds his jacket over the side of the armchair. He rolls his shoulders and pushes his head back. Your brows rise as you check the battery on your phone. It’s not very much. 

“Oh, you don’t have to stay--” 

“I do. I know how sneaky you college girls are.” 

“What?” You squeak. 

“Put on those pretty smiles and call up daddy’s lawyer in the morning,” he growls. 

“I wouldn’t-- no, sir--” you sputter. What daddy? What lawyer? 

“So,” he turns his back to you and sits on the couch with a sigh. “You should sit by the heater so you don’t get sick. Girls...” 

You hesitate. Right. This is going to awkward. You don’t know him very well. Not even his first name because you’re certain it’s not Rumlow. And he’s older. Meaner. Not much for small talk. You can’t be on your phone all night without a charge and there’s not enough light to read. 

You come around the couch and he twists to drag the blush-coloured faux fur throw from his other side. He sits in the middle so no matter what cushion you choose, he’s right there. 

As you sit, he puts the blanket around you, a tiny snort as if judging that you even have something like that. It matches your slippers. That must be even more ridiculous to someone like him. You’ve never seen him wear anything but black. 

“Thanks,” you say and you grab the edges of the blanket. 

He just sniffs again and sits back. He leans his head against the sofa and exhales deeply. You wince as even his breathe feels like a remonstrance. You curl up under the blanket and lean against the arm of couch. 

You sit and stare at the soft red-orange coils of the heater. You feel its warmth, a soothing wave in the flickering dark. The candle burns, the aroma lining the air, and the wick burns out as the wax bubbles. As that light dies, your left in the soft amber hue of only the heater. 

Rumlow’s even breaths tempo the heedless night. Is he asleep? You glance over as he remains unmoving. You can’t blame him for being unhappy. You wonder if the issue is going to be expensive. That’s not the kind of stress anyone wants, especially this time of year. 

That’s a good idea. The night will go by quicker if you just sleep. The only thing is, you’re too anxious to settle down. Still, you have to try. 

You wiggle closer to the armrest and lean against it. You lay your head and shoulder against the curl of the cushion and slump into the corner. You pull the blanket snug. Is he cold? Should you have offered him a blanket? You don’t dare ask now. 

Your eyelids sink and your fatigue surprises you. You’re more tired than you expect, even after such a lame day. Your Christmas isn’t family dinners or gift-giving, just the listlessness of a solitary day in the big house. Most years you prefer that, knowing your parents would only torture you with questions that underline their disappointment, but this year, it’s a bit lonelier. You miss your roommates. Especially now. 

You drift off in the turmoil of your thoughts. Of unwinnable parental approval and the lifeless bulbs and sockets of the house. That shadow beside you lingers even in your unconscious, as if Rumlow’s shadow is watching the nonsensical machinations of your nocturnal imagination. 

A swirling sleep brews in your head, cocooning you in a heat that drags you further into oblivion. Foggy flashes of a contorted reality along with the blankness of deep slumber enshrine you. Forgotten is the dark house and the dissatisfied landlord. 

Dampness glazes on your cheek and down your neck. Cool air mingles with the hot puff against your shoulder, a tempestuous heat across your body. Your voice tickles sin your ear as it scratches up your dry throat like sand. Your head lolls but stills in an iron grip that cradles you from beneath. 

Thunder rolls through the muddiness of your unconscious, drawing you up towards the surface. Growls and groans that flow into you like a tide. A deep, thrumming weight churns your guts only to lessen, the emptiness just as heavy before you’re filled again.  

You mutter as your lips peel apart dryly and your eyes flick back and forth beneath your eyelids. Your arms are heavy as one lays limp at your side, crushed into the cushion, as the other hangs off the edge. Your lashes stick as you try to see between them. 

The couch rocks with the rhythm of gritty breaths, with the tempo of the crush atop you, the swelter of the body over you. Your head throbs as your eyes roll back and you centre them, fighting through the haziness.  

Your head falls to the side as your vision pinpoints on the orange pulse of the heater. Rough fingertips scrape your scalp as a pinch on your neck makes you whimper. Your leg is prickly as it drapes over the couch, exposed to the cold air of the dim room. 

The cushions flatten under your body and the other one. You’re trapped beneath the paralysing weight. You murmur and force your head straight. The shadow at the edge of your vision draws your gaze and you can see only the writhing, pumping form pinning you to the couch. 

“Gotta keep you warm, girl,” Rumlow snarls into your throat and bites again, ramming deep until you squeal. “Ain’t ya cold?” 

You shakily bend your arm and press your hand to his arm, his bicep bulging as his nails jab into the meat of your hip. Your other leg is hooked over the back of the couch as he pounds between them. Your pajamas pool at the end of your foot that dangles over the floor. You feel the fabric brushing your toes with each battering snap of his hips. 

He’s... 

He’s... 

Inside you!

Your walls burn with his rutting, undisturbed by your rousing as he puffs along your shoulder and smears saliva along your skin. He bites there too, sinking his teeth in until your whimper. 

“Wh-wh-wha...” you warble through tears as they rise and fall like acid. Why is he doing this? How—why didn’t you wake up before? 

“Fuck, so hot,” he pounds against your pelvis as your bones ache. “Fuck-- fucking girls.” 

He drags his hand up your side, his other still hooked under your head. He braces your shoulder and pushes himself up. He pins you down as he spreads his fingers wide across the top of your chest. Your pajama top is rumble above your tits as they bounce with his unfettered motion. 

He looks down at the joining of your bodies and thrusts as deep as he can, watching the fuzzy scene of his violation. His other hand slides from beneath your hand and stretches across your neck, his thumb pushing into the bruised mark of his bite under your jaw. 

“You warm yet?” He taunts as he pumps into you harshly. “Feel fucking warm to me.” 

[e-dubbc11]

Hello my darling Annie!

I love this gif! Thank you for participating in my celebration and sending in your asks, I really appreciate you as a friend. I hope you like what I did here. Thank you again for reading and sharing my fics, it really warms my heart ♥️

I didn’t know if you wanted this for Brock or Leo so I just went with Brock, I hope that’s ok ♥️

Glasses

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x F! Reader

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ Please! Or else I’m telling!) swear words, little bit of angst, and fluff

Word Count: 1.6K-ish

Summary: You’re introduced to a co-worker by literally bumping into him. He wasn’t very nice to you but you noticed he can’t seem to stay away either.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The gentle knocks on your door caused you to look up from the pages of your book and set your cup of tea and your glasses on the end table next to you. One side of your mouth curled into a slight smile as you walked over to the door to let him in.

Brock always knew you were awake if the dim light from the living room lamp was glowing in the window. You were getting used to these late night visits but the first time it happened was a complete surprise.

Both of you worked for SHIELD but he was the field agent, a leader and you were just a technical aide that worked for the Statistics division. You knew him to have a very tough exterior, he was gruff, and bold which was very apparent when you literally crashed into him on your way into work one morning and he snapped at you.

“Maybe you need new glasses, sweetheart! Eyes up next time, Missssss…” He pinched your badge in between his thick calloused fingers so he could read it. “Miss y/l/n.”

His voice was firm, raspy, and…incredibly sexy.

After that encounter, you’d catch him on the floor where you worked a number of times. He must have not only noticed your name on your badge but also the department you worked in. He had no reason to be there, he was a field agent, why was he wandering around the Statistics floor, and why did he watch your every move?

“Have a drink with me.” His voice commanded.

Brock managed to sneak up and sit next to you while you were reading on your lunch break.

Not even looking up from the page, you had replied, “You’re not my boss, Rumlow. You can’t tell me what to do.” You stole a glance at him before pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose and returning your gaze back to your book. “Maybe if you ask nicely.”

“Have a drink with me…please.” He asked sheepishly.

Again, not looking up from your book, you lightheartedly replied, “Ok.”

After agreeing on a time and place, he started to walk away before turning around and asking, “You know who I am?” Remembering you called him by his last name a few minutes prior.

This time you lowered your book to look at him over your glasses and with a sly smile replied, “Everyone knows who you are…Brock.”

He walked away trying to hide the smile you put on his face.

**********

You purposely showed up a little late to make him wait for you, then ordered and took a shot of tequila, thanked him and walked away. Brock’s eyes never left your backside as he watched you walk out of that bar, loving and hating the fact you made him look like a fool. You may look like a shy little book nerd but he didn’t know who he had messed with snapping at you the way he did.

Later on that night was when you got that first set of knocks on your front door. Confused and surprised by someone knocking on your door late at night, you got up from the couch to investigate. Looking through the peephole, you saw Brock leaning against your doorframe, waiting patiently for you to open the door.

“You left me lookin’ like an asshole, doll! Open the door, I know you’re there.” He said.

Glaring at him from the other side of the door, you flung the door open and said, “You said it, I didn’t. What are you doin’ here, Rumlow? And how do you know where I live?!”

Brushing the stubble on his cheeks, he continued to look down before slowly bringing his gaze up to meet yours. Brock’s eyes reminded you of the gold you would see in a summer sunset or the color of Tennessee honey whiskey. They were beautiful.

“The answer to your first question, sweetheart, is I asked you out for a drink so I could apologize for snappin’ at ya the first time we met. I didn’t wanna admit that maybe I wasn’t lookin’ where I was goin’. I’m sure you don’t need new glasses. And the answer to question number two is, we work for SHIELD, ya think I can’t find out where people live?” He said softly.

Brock wasn’t trying to turn you on, he really was just trying to apologize, but he was sexy, irresistible, and had you clenching your thighs together so tightly, that you thought you might fall over.

Biting down on your lower lip, you let him continue.

“So if ya didn’t drink and run like ya did, I could have apologized proper—“ He said before you cut him off.

Pulling him inside by his jacket, his lips were on yours as fast as the door slammed shut, his thick fingers tangled in your hair and his teeth nipped at your jawline and down your neck. You started removing each other’s clothes and haphazardly tossed them onto the floor, making your way toward the bedroom.

Brock “apologized” over and over again that night. He did it with his talented fingers, with his tongue, and with his cock. His apologies didn’t stop until your vision had gone white, until your voice cracked, and until your knees quivered when you tried to stand up. His kisses were hungry and demanding, and the desire burning behind his amber eyes matched the craving you had for him.

The cries of passion he pulled from you left you breathless and he was insistent on leaving you without a voice. Your sinful moans turned him on, made him completely feral, and the pleasure he gave you crashed over you in waves.

Brock Rumlow was definitely the animal in bed just like you thought he would be.

Shaking from overstimulation, you managed to say, “All I was really looking for was an ‘I’m sorry,‘ Brock.”

He pinched your side and lightly bit down on your bare shoulder while trying to hold in a chuckle. The STRIKE team leader that most people were afraid of had a soft spot and that soft spot was for you.

“I can see your pretty eyes better without your glasses.” He had said.

You replied, “Well…I don’t need to wear them ALL the time.”

And now here he was again gently knocking at your door, looking sexy as fuck in his black leather jacket, and silently begging for a piece of the fruit he’s tasted so many times in the past few months.

The way his hands confidently roamed over you, it was always a surprise where they would go next. Would he pin your wrists above your head so he could fuck you deep into the mattress, or let you climb on top so he could firmly press his fingers into your hips as you rolled them over his? You loved to watch his teeth bite down onto his lower lip as you rode him before pulling him in close, grasping at his muscular shoulders and back to feel him hit that sweet spot deep inside you.

With his movements becoming faster and more erratic, you knew he was close as your walls were tightening around him, your pussy so wet that he slid in and out of you with ease before drenching his dick with your release and he chased his own orgasm.

And no one knew. At work, no one knew the leader of the STRIKE team spent his down time with you, the slightly nerdy girl from Statistics, and that he worked tirelessly to make you come as many times as possible, in as many different positions as possible, on every single flat surface he could find, and wanting to hear you scream so loudly, you would wake the neighbors. You didn’t care if they did know but maybe he did; however, you were too nervous to ask him.

You didn’t ask because no one made you feel like this and you didn’t want it to go away.

In the faint light of your bedroom, you watched him put on his gray t-shirt, his muscles tight like piano wire, and his eyes wide with worry. As the shirt drifted down his toned torso, you wondered what he was thinking about, and why did he have that look of worry on his face?

Wrapped up in the bedsheet, you continued to stare with a wicked smile on your face, and he smiled back before saying, “Had a bit of a rough day today, doll.”

Propping your head up with your hand, your smile disappeared and asked, “You wanna talk about it?”

“I didn’t know if we were doin’ that kinda stuff, sweetheart.” Said Brock.

Patting the spot next to you on the bed, you replied, “We can if you want to, Rumlow. Have a seat, tiger.”

Brock smirked and climbed on top of you until you were flat on your back, your hands traveled up his arms and landed around his neck.

“Can I take you out on a date?” He asked. His voice was extra scratchy from the workout he gave it a little while ago.

You slid your fingers through his dark brown hair and asked with a wide smile and sarcasm dripping from your voice, “Oh you wanna be seen with me? What will people think, Brock?”

“Well, I want everyone to see that I have the prettiest girl…with or without her glasses.” He said with a wink just before he claimed your lips with a gentle kiss.

You felt warmth rise to your cheeks, the man made you blush…hard, and you had to finally admit to yourself that you were smitten with him.

“I’ll go out with you, Brock. Now kiss me and tell me all about your bad day, maybe I can make it better.” You said with a warm smile.

He pinched your chin in between his forefinger and thumb and replied, “You always do, sweetheart.”

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @nekoannie-chan

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @randomlittleimp

If I tagged you and you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again. As always, thank you again for reading!

[itwasthereaminuteago]

I come bearing slutty thoughts.

Imagine Rumlow coming home from a mission where he got hurt and in that moment, all he could think about is not returning to you.

And ehm... when he gets home, he shows you just how much he loves/needs you 😜

(I hope this won't get flagged 🤣)

Alrighty sweet stuff, it's finally here (so sorry about the wait)! Good god he's a beast isn't he? Happy Sunday to you I hope 😁

|| Kissed by Death ||

Brock Rumlow x female reader

Tags/warnings: just love and (unprotected but on BC) smutty appreciation.

He didn't call, didn't think to let you know he would be back today, tonight. His mind was solely on a single track, focused on his own one mission.

With the water running over your ears when you're washing your hair you don't hear him come in, only gasping as you suddenly feel hands on your waist and the press of his body against your back.

“Brock!” You turn in his arms, not only surprised to see him home but also still almost fully clothed under the spray of water. “You're back, I wasn't expecting-” your warm smile only lasts a moment as you take in the pained look on his face, excitement turning to concern. “Oh my god, what's wrong? Are you hurt?” You ask, scanning his form for anything obvious, your worry only increasing at his continued silence. “Brock, please tell me.”

Out in the field that day he'd almost fucked up. A literal gnats ball hair away from getting his head blown off because he had been too cocky, too sure of himself in a dangerous situation that the near brush with death had knocked sense back into him with the force of a blow from a sledgehammer. It was the sense that he might not be able to come back home to you again if he acted that way again. That vile feeling had twisted in his guts, gripped him hard and mercilessly, the singular thought that he could lose you driving him to you as fast as possible once the mission was over. No other members of his STRIKE team had witnessed what had happened and so didn't question him bursting straight out of the briefing room after giving the absolute bare minimum communication necessary. He felt like he'd taken you for granted up until now. Felt like a failure. He needed you now. Craved your grounding touch, the feel of your soft skin against him, your mouth on his to remind himself how lucky he was to still be alive.

He lifts a hand to your face, cupping the side of it as his bourbon-brown eyes rake slowly over your nakedness as if he's seeing you for the first time. You let out a muffled whimper as he leans in, kissing your lips with such fierce desperation that you're panting hard when he eventually lets you surface for air and guides you both out of the spray of water. You help him when he begins to strip, your fingers slipping over the buckles and snaps as you both work in-between breathless clashes of your mouths to rid him of his tactical gear that is eventually flung into a wet heap in the corner of the bathroom. He's sucking possessive marks into the skin of your neck up with you pinned against the wall as you palm his thick length through his sodden boxers, trying to tug them down at the same time as he's reaching between your thighs with eagerness making you moan at his sure touch.

You touch him too, your hands skimming over his wet skin feeling him flinch slightly as you explore and find the inevitable fresh bruises and cuts with dismay.

“Brock,” you gasp out as his lips cover your face with kisses and he carefully slides his fingers between your folds, gathering your slick arousal and dragging it up and over your sensitive bud. The words almost catch in your throat as you question him.

“Brock, talk to me! What happened? You're scaring me…please!” you grab hold of his wrist to stop him.

He’s gruff but quiet as he finally answers, eyes dark, almost black and you recognise the deep need in that gaze. “Sorry I scared ya baby, don't you worry. I just had to see you, couldn't wait.”

You nod and slowly release him, knowing that he'll tell you when he's ready, and instead of pushing any further you arch your body into him as he drops down to his knees propping your leg over his shoulder as he puts his mouth on you. Your fingers grasp to hold on to something, anything for balance as his tongue delves between your folds, lapping and licking, curling up inside to savour your sweet taste. He's never going to let you fall, supporting your ass with his big hands as you lose yourself in the feel of his mouth working you up and up, the sensation only made more intense by the shower steam slicking your bodies. Your head thunks back against the wall as Brock flicks the firm tip of his tongue over and around your throbbing clit taking you higher and closer to a crescendo, your thighs quivering around his face. He's looking up at when you open your eyes and look down at him, listening to your moans and whines and watching your mouth drop open when he pushes two fingers up inside your tight walls and fucks you with them.

“Baby you gotta come for me, please, please baby you're so fucking good to me… I wanna make you feel so good-” his mouth is back on you, thick fingers curling gently as he draws them back out of your cunt and then straight back in. Each thrust of them almost punches the air out of your lungs as he takes you right up to that sweet edge.

He groans loud with you against your core as you let go, feeling you squeezing and creaming around his fingers, licking it all up as you pant and shake with the intensity. When he carefully lets you down, you circle your arms around his neck, pulling him in and holding yourself up on wobbly legs at the same time as you taste yourself on his lips. He's still hard and heavy against your stomach, swearing under his breath as your fingers then wrap around his length and slowly start to move your hand up and down.

“Let me take care of you, now.” your soothing voice melts into his ears. But that's not how it's supposed to go. He's the one that's gotta show you what you mean to him, how you're the only damn thing on his fucked up brain when it comes down to the dirt and blood of it all. He stops you, scoops you up in his arms and out of the bathroom into the bedroom, fuck the fact you're both dripping wet he doesn't give a shit about the sheets all he cares about is you.

“You need to know,” Brock's tone is level and serious as he lays you down on the bed. “you got to know you're everything to me, yeah? Everything.”

You gently rake your hand through the top of his hair where it's longer, curling your hand around the back of his head and lightly scratching your nails at the shorter shaved parts. He's not yet admitted to you how he really feels, that he has this love for you, it's raw and new, but it's definitely real.

“I know, baby.” you assure him, pulling him closer. You're so sweet for him, better than he deserves as you lay back and guide him inside you.

“Brock-” the warmth of your breath brushes his neck and he dips his head down to kiss your shoulder, listening to the way your breathing hitches as he sheathes himself all the way to the hilt.

“Oh fuck doll, feels so-” Brock makes a sound you've never heard him make before, almost a whimper as you move your hips up to meet his slow thrust. You clasp your arms around his broad shoulders, holding him close to you as you move as one, your skin still damp from the shower. You hum in agreement, your parted lips slotting perfectly together, still tasting yourself on his tongue as it tangles lazily with your own.

The muscles of his arm are obvious as he holds most of his weight above you, his free hand caressing it's way up the side of your body, the rough pad of his thumb rolling over your peaked nipple. Your back arches and you hike your leg up higher and lock it around him as he keeps on rolling into you at a steady pace that's already got you well on your way to seeing fireworks. It's not a rare thing that he's so tender with you, far from it, but the Brock you see at work is the completely opposite side of the coin and every time you're together this way you can't help but feel special. He bares himself to you, makes you feel like a goddess, gives you more than you could ever ask for. And he feels exactly the same way. He must have had some dumb luck that you fell for him just as he did for you. He's always been seen as a bit of an asshole, most weren't quick to trust him, but not you. You trusted him with your life and that's why he was home this instant with you. You kept him on track, had seen something in him that must have been worth sticking around for, and he was intending on spending all the time he could making sure that was true.

“Thought I was a fucking goner today,” he grits out, “I was a fucking idiot.”

Your eyes snap back open at his confession, searching him for more.

“Brock, you're here, you're okay, that's all that matters.”

“But I need you doll, need to be with ya and that can't happen if I wind up dead.”

You grab his face in your hands, focusing his attention again. “Then don't die.” You tell him, giving him a smile before you kiss him deeply.

He shakes with a burst of laughter and then as you lean up and graze your teeth over his jaw hisses with pleasure. He grins, his hand cupping your jaw, watching as your eyes flutter closed when he fits his hand around your neck with a tiny amount of pressure, just the way you like it.

“Mm, that's my good girl.” Brock praises with a husky whisper, moving his hips faster now pushing a desperate mewl of his name from your lips. “So good for me, don't deserve you…”

You can feel your second orgasm building, moaning out as Brock shifts his hand down your body to reach between you and rub his slick fingers over your clit.

The sound of you purring his name under him and the telltale twitch of your thighs draws him right along with you, pulling his cock almost all the way out of your pussy before plunging back deep inside. As you start falling apart around him he snaps his hips faster, shallower until you're clenching and squeezing over and over and he gives you everything he's got, releasing inside your soft heat with a deep moan of your name.

You're both panting as he carefully withdraws and rolls to your side, and as you half drape yourself over his spent body, you can't help smiling as you peck his cheek, turning his face towards you and kissing him over and over.

“Thanks for coming back to me.”

He lets go of a relieved sigh, like the weight of his guilt has been lifted by you saying that.

“I'll keep comin’ back, baby. Don't you worry.”

[saiyanprincessswanie]

SaiyanPrincessSwanie Reading List Week 211 & 212

A/N: Thank you again to those who gave me recommendations for fanfics. 💜 This week had me reading 35 fics. Absolutely amazing stuff here. This has been so much fun for me and I hope you enjoy my reading lists.

As always these will be listed in no particular order. None of these stories are mine. I’m just signal-boosting them. The author is listed next to the title. My goal is to signal boost writers and spread positivity in the community.  💜💜

Click HERE to see what I will or won’t read. This is very important.

Click HERE for past reading lists.

For my Masterlist click HERE.

Please make sure you’re reading the warnings on every story. They range from dark to fluff. Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old. These stories are meant for adults only. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers

Header by @fictional-affairs

If you can, please reblog these lists so they can reach more people on Tumblr.

I love you 3000 💜 Missy

Blue Bonnets - (Brock x Reader) - @saiyanprincessswanie

Christmas with you - (Bucky x Reader) - @mostly-marvel-musings

The life he always wanted - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Wrong side? - (Brock x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

jealousy, jealousy - (Bucky x Reader) - @auroralwriting

I Hate It When You're Drunk (4) - (Bucky x Reader) - @deliciousangelfestival

there is no other love, it's only yours - (Bucky x Reader) - @mellowsaturns

just the way you are - (Bucky x Reader) - @mellowsaturns

Language - (Steve x Reader) - @mercurial-chuckles

Single Looks Good - (Steve x Reader) - @itsanerdlife

Imagine Steve Hating That You're a DareDevil - @itsanerdlife

Two for One - (Frank x Reader x Nick) - @stargazingfangirl18

Princess - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Saving you - (Brock x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Love Dust - (Multi Characters x Reader) - @holylulusworld

Blooms of Spring - @lfnr-blog-blog-blog

Emerald Eyes - (Steve x Black!Reader) - @awesomerextyphoon

Cold hearted - Chp 2 - (Multi Pairings) - @missvelvetsstuff

Finding Home (10) - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Indecent Proposal - (7) - (Stucky x Reader) - @holylulusworld

all to myself - (Bucky x Reader) - @mellowsaturns

Singing - (Brock, Jack) - @nekoannie-chan

Frustration - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

I Hate It When You're Drunk - (5) - (Bucky x Reader) - @deliciousangelfestival

The Peach - (Lloyd x Reader) - @holylulusworld

Car Rides - (Bucky x Reader) - @nastybuckybarnes

I Hate It When You're Drunk - (6) - (Bucky x Reader) - @deliciousangelfestival

Mercy 3 - (Fem!Reader x Steve; Curtis; Jake; Lloyd; Robert Pronge) - @stargazingfangirl18

Let Me Tempt You - (Bucky x Reader) - @targaryenvampireslayer

Behind the Mask - (Steve x Reader) - @labella420

Bucky Barnes Drabble - @mostly-marvel-musings

Hearing - (Clint x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Art therapy - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Guilty flashback - (Jack R x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Born - (Brock x OFC) - @nekoannie-chan

[selcouthaesthetics]

You seemed pretty helpless without me

Frank Grillo as Brock Rumlow Crossbones

[nekoannie-chan]

Not really dead

Not really dead

Title: Not really dead.

Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.

Ship: Steve Rogers X Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.!Reader, Brock Rumlow X Agent of HYDRA!Reader.

Word count: 267 words.

Rating: Teen.

Summary: Steve thought you died in that mission.

Major Tags: Death of character, implied experiment.

Additional tags: This is my entry to @caplanbuckybarnes 3 words Challenge with the prompt:

"But you died!"

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate my work myself) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. Please let me know if you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

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Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi @Smokeandnailz @white-wolf1940 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae @Harrysthiccthighss @Marvelatthisone @caplanbuckybarnes @sapphire-rogers @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @writingshae @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga @daemonslittlebitch @chaoticcollectivenightmare @endlesstwanted @chemtrails-club  @marigoldreamer @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @Here4thefanfics @theestorm @patzammit @kmc1989 @somegirlfromasgard

It was a dark and stormy night when you and Steve infiltrated. The mission started smoothly, but suddenly, without knowing how, everything turned into chaos.

You came face to face with Rumlow; you started to fight; however, he managed to hurt you badly.

You were very weak when Steve found you; with tears in his eyes, he held you in his arms.

“I'm sorry, Steve,” you said in a barely audible voice before closing your eyes for the last time.

Although he tried to take you with him, he had to leave your body there to escape; his heart was broken with your loss.

What Steve didn't know, however, was that Brock had other plans for you. He took your body to one of HYDRA's bases.

Months later

Steve had another mission with the Avengers; he still couldn't get over your death.

As they moved forward, Steve felt a familiar presence. As he turned the corner, he came face to face with you, wearing the HYDRA uniform.

“But you died!” said Steve, stunned.

Your eyes, now cold and calculating, showed no emotion. Steve couldn't figure out what had happened to you.

Steve's heart broke again, but this time he was determined to save you. He was trying to reason with you, but you attacked him, and as soon as you had the chance, you ran away.

Steve noticed that you had dropped something; it was the necklace he had given you on your last birthday. He promised himself that this time he would not lose you; he would do everything necessary to find you again.

[thirtysomethingloser92]

100k+ Remy Lebeau/Reader slow burn coming right up I guess...

[thewritergremlin-rae]

A Drunken Goodnight

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x new SHIELD Agent!Reader Rating: M Words: 618 Content: 2nd person, pre-WS so Hydra!Brock but pretending to be SHIELD, age gap (reader is 21+, Brock is 40+), power dynamics, tipsy reader, implied manipulation, unreliable narrator Summary: You have a few celebration drinks in honour of you joining SHIELD. A few too many, so your kind of mentor, Brock Rumlow, lets you crash at his place.

Banner by cafekitsune

His large hands cup your cheeks and you sway a little, feeling light headed. 

You can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or his warm, rough hands. “Congratulations, agent,” he hums, grinning and pretending like he can’t see how open and desperate your expression is. “But I think it’s time to get outta here.” 

He picks you up easily, your legs and arms wrapping around him as his hand rests on the delicious curve of your ass. But you don’t think anything of it, even when Brock needlessly adjusts your position, fingers brushing the seam of your jeans. 

Brock gets you into his car with no problems, you wonderfully pliant and happy to follow his instructions. 

You might have drifted off for the drive home because it seems like in only the blink of an eye the car has come to a stop in an enclosed parking lot. “I worry about leaving ya alone like this so you can have my room, I’ll sleep on the couch.” He breezes past any protests by hauling you out of his car and into his side as you stumble a few steps. 

His apartment is warm as he gets you through the door and helps you lean against the wall. You hastily grab his shoulder when he’s crouching and carefully removing your tired feet from the heels you decided to try out for the night. When he looks up at you from between your legs, heat rushes to your cheeks and you might think it had some kind of purpose but your brain is slow and Brock is on his feet again, kicking his own shoes off as he leads you to his room.

You sit on the bed with a soft thump as your legs realise they can finally give up their task for the night. Brock is flicking through his wardrobe and turns to toss a loose t-shirt and shorts. “Hope these are good enough for our new agent,” he teases with a grin and you nod with a soft laugh. “You think you can get changed by yourself, sweetheart?”

More heat tingles against your cheeks as you nod and put the flung clothes to one side. You barely wait for him to turn away before you’re pulling off your favourite top. It catches on your yawn and you giggle again, managing to free yourself with a few grunts. 

“That sounded pretty tough, you sure you don’t need my help?”

“No - no I’m good!” You assure him in a determined voice that is way too loud for the two feet he’s stood away from you but his chuckle is amused and you get his spare t-shirt on much more easily. Next are the shorts but given that your legs gave up about a minute ago, you flop back on the bed unceremoniously and lift your hips to get the jeans over your ass and kicked off the rest of the way. His shorts go on with one more jut of your hips to pull them in place and this time you stay laid back on the bed. “I did it!” You declare - like you just solved complicated algebra. 

Rumlow laughs as he turns, giving you a playful eyeroll to hide the way he drinks you in. “Real cute, agent. You gonna get under those covers or do I gotta tuck you in?” 

Your embarrassment fuels you as you scramble back and manage to get under the duvet, pulling it back down to cover you. Only to find Brock leaning over you, so dangerously close you think he might kiss you.

He brushes a kiss to your forehead and wishes you goodnight, knowing he leaves you a frustrated and tipsy mess.

Want to be tagged in future parts or future Loki fic? Go here

[hoteldreamss]

Steve Rogers || imagine

Метки: похищение; канон Рамлоу; флафф со Стивом; читательница в устоявшихся отношениях со Стивом.

Слов: 991

Ты приходишь в себя с головной болью и с размытым зрением, которое так медленно фокусируется, что некоторое время ты пугаешься не только то��о, что не чувствуешь привычное тепло своего дома, вместо этого окутанная прохладой; не чувствуешь знакомого запаха; не ощущаешь свободы движений, но и того, что потеряла зрение.

Запах сырости проникает в тебя моментально, а оглядевшись в полутьме ты понимайте, что место похоже на подвал. Ты привязана к стулу, ноги стянуты стяжками, руки за спинкой деревянного стула обмотанные скотчем, на губах также клочок скотча.

Ты нервничаешь, боясь даже представить, кто это сделал с тобой. Никаких воспоминаний о произошедшем. Ты вернулась домой с работы, и только поставила свою сумку на столик, как кто-то схватил тебя. Пронзающая, острая, но не сильная, боль в шее, должно быть это был шприц со снотворным. Ты не знаешь от куда появился тот человек, как он оказался в твоей квартире и ты не знаешь, кто это был. Он подкрасился сзади.

Скрип ступеней привлекает твоё внимание, но ты не можешь никого увидеть, сидя спиной к лестнице. Человек не такой высокий, но его фигура всё равно устрашает. Он становится перед тобой, не достаточно близко, чтобы принести тебе дискомфорт.

— Ты долго спала, — произносит он. — Думал мне придётся отдать Кэпу твоё тело. Хотя вряд ли он будет что-то делать уже ради тела.

Мужчина тянется к скотчу на твоих губах.

— Это не долгий момент, когда ты можешь говорить. Воспользуйся этим с умом.

Ты смотришь на него с удивлением и страхом.

— Кто ты?

— Брок Рамлоу. Предугадывая твой следующий вопрос, мне нужен Стив Роджерс. Ты как его девушка отлично подойдёшь для приманки.

— Мы... он не придёт.

Брок наклоняешься к тебе, опираясь на спинку стула и смотря тебе в глаза. Из-за чего ты вся сжимаешься внутри, смотря в его чёрные глаза.

— Придёт. Не нужно думать, что ты можешь обмануть меня.

Ты не знаешь, что сказать учитывая, что Стив и впрямь захочет прийти, он спасёт тебя, как только узнает, что ты в опасности. Если он ещё не знает. Ты не уверена сколько времени прошло с момента, как тебя похитили.

— Наслаждайся тишиной, милая, — Брок снова клеит скотч на твои губы и уходит.

Ты искренне надеешься, что не останешься здесь до момента пока захочешь в туалет или есть.

***

Дверь снова открывается, скрип ступеней и Брок снова перед тобой, с бутылкой воды.

— Без фокусов, — произносит Рамлоу, когда отклеивает скотч от губ.

Брок открывает бутылку воды и подносит к твоим губам. Тебя слегка удивляет, что Рамлоу не обходится с тобой грубо и пренебрежительно. Ты благодарна, что он не облил тебя водой или не заставил захлебнуться её ради забавы.

Убрав бутылку, Брок снова клеит скотч.

— У нас поезда, сладкая, но ��ряд ли ты застанешь вид из окна. — Брок обходит тебя, ты слышишь как он что-то достаёт из кармана, пока ты чувствуешь усталость, а веки становятся тяжелее.

Он поднимает тебя за локоть, тянет к выходу, пока ты плетёшься. В твоих глазах темнеет, и ты к счастью не ударяешься об пол, Брок ловит тебя.

***

Стив чувствует себя загнанным в клетку, бессильным и уязвимым. Ты не отвечала на звонки уже несколько часов, Стив не может отследить тебя, ты вряд ли отключила бы локацию. Роджерс надеется найти тебя в порядке, может твой телефон сел, может ты заснула сразу после работы, и с тобой всё в порядке.

Его стук в твою дверь настойчивый и тяжёлой. Но ты не открываешь. Стив лезет за ключами в карман, открыв твою дверь запасным.

В твоей квартире пусто и тихо. Стив замечает небольшой беспорядок, и его сердце сжимается. Он не может думать о лучшем.

Благодаря работе Мстителя, Роджерс может узнать кто тебя похитил. Но найти тебя сразу сложно. Брок сам заявляет о себе. Адрес приходит ему в сообщение, и упоминание тебя, заставляет злиться. По нескольким камерам, можно было увидеть Рамлоу, который тащил тебя к машине.

Стив прибывает к сомнительному месту, недостроенные здание, многоэтажное и очевидно не предназначенное для встреч.

Роджерс встречает тебя на семнадцатом этаже, без сознания, лежащей на полу и Рамлоу нет рядом. Стив направляется к тебе, желая проверить есть ли у тебя пульс.

— Она жива, пока что, — подаёт голос Рамлоу, предъявляя себя.

Стив оборачивается, встречаясь с человеком, которого считал мёртвым. Брок выглядит самодовольно, когда смотрит на Роджерса. На Рамлоу костюм, то, что делает его визуально мощнее, и заставляет Стива догадываться о новых преимуществах Брока в бою.

— Но это не долго. Здание взорвётся через три минуты, и вряд ли ты успеешь спасти её и убить меня.

Роджерс улавливает намерения Брока. Он хочет напасть на Стива, он отнимет у него время в бою, а ты без сознания не сможешь никуда убежать. Роджерс может потерять тебя из-за боя. Рамлоу знает, что сможет убежать, снова, может даже отомстить Стиву. Брок кичится своим планом, предполагая, что у Стива нет возможностей.

***

Стив чувствует себя побитым, он мог бы посчитать своё положение проигрышным, но ты жива, ты с ним в целости и безопасности, даже если Брок до сих пор на свободе.

Когда ты приходишь в себя, Роджерс сразу поднимается со своего места, подходя к твоей больничной кровати.

Ты выглядишь растерянной, оглядываясь. Наткнувшись взглядом на Стива ты немного успокаиваешься.

— Почему я в больнице? — твой голос слабой, охрипший после сна.

— Просто проверка, они хотят очистить твой организм. Брок дал тебе что-то слишком сильное.

Ты смотришь на лицо Стива, несколько ссадин, которые должны скоро исчезнуть не оставив даже после себя следа.

— Как ты себя чувствуешь? Мне позвать врача? — его ладонь в разы больше твоей, он берёт её, согревая твою прохладную кожу.

— Нет, я в порядке. Ты поймал его?

— Не в этот раз, — со стыдом признаётся Стив. — Прости.

— Не нужно. Ты сделаешь это позже, мы оба знаем, преступники не уходят от тебя на долго. — Твоя слабая улыбка ободряет его.

Уголки губ Стива поднимаются, когда он немного смущается от твоих слов, но он знает, это правда.

Рамлоу не уйдёт от Роджерса, особенно после того, как Брок осмелился прикоснуться к тебе, втянуть тебя в их дела.

Стив наклоняешься к тебе, оставляя поцелуй на лбу и выпрямляется.

— Я схожу за чем-нибудь съедобным для тебя. Скоро вернусь.

Стив покидает твою палату уже чувствуя необходимость вернуться к тебе и не отходить, пока ты не поправишься полностью.

[holylulusworld]

Brock Rumlow/Crossbones Masterlist

Masterlist for all Brock Rumlow stories

Contains: 💔 angst // 💕 fluff // 💦 smut // 🖤 light smut // 🤍 implied smut

The enemies wife

His latest target

The Outsider

Divider by me *for my blog use only*

Find more Marvel stories here: Marvel Masterlist

[ramp-it-up]

Taste

Pairing: Mob Boss! Sam Wilson x Rumlow! Reader; Bucky Barnes x Reader (platonic); Steve Rogers x Reader (platonic); Brock Rumlow x Reader (platonic)

Word Count: around 4K

Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. Childhood hoods, childhood crush, childhood nicknames based upon appearance, young Brock, Steve, Bucky and Sam, skinny Stevie Rogers, sibings being sibings, bratty behavior, Angst, allusion to underage drinking and crime, toxic parents, protective bothers, allusions to underaged drinking, bratty behavior, a punch in the nose (accidental), bloody nose, shirtless Sam, kind of innocent reader, fingering, oral sex (female receiving) loss of virginity, pain during sex, p in v, raw sex (wrap it or don’t tap it), praise kink, after care. This entire fic is comprised of two flashbacks.

A/N: This is in the same AU Try a Little Tenderness and The Representative, and comes directly after Addicted To You. The AU is called This Thing of Ours.

I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

You were ten years old, it was 2002, and you were spending the summer in Brooklyn at your father’s house. 

It was long before the mob war that he created which separated your brother Brock from his best friends. 

And it was a time that would change you forever.

The July afternoon was hot and so was the block. Music was blaring from the speakers of someone’s radio and there was a buzz in the air: adolescence, ambition and a potential for violence. 

You a slave to a page in my rhyme book/Gettin' big money, playboy, your time's up/Where them gangstas at?/ Where them dimes at?/They shootin'! Aw, made you look

They called you Bunny because of your teeth and your size. But you were a scrapper and could stand up for yourself. Your father taught you that. 

You also had a smart mouth, and roasted anyone who dared talk about you or your family. 

Your mother taught you that. 

When you came to your father’s house while your mother took her annual girls trip that summer, you found that your big brother was suddenly different. Gone was the quiet gangly 12 year old who drew up plans for world domination in composition books in his room; a wiry 13 year old who had friends who were just as scrappy and hungry as he was had taken his place.

Little Stevie Rogers never backed down from a fight. That’s where his best friend Bucky Barnes came in, backing him up when Stevie was against the wall. Brock was the kid with vision, the one who had a plan to get them where they wanted to be.

In power.

Your brother tried to ignore you, but you trailed after him because there was nothing better to do. One day, you sat in the stoop and watched him and his friends working to open the fire hydrant across the street from your dad’s house.

Your brother felt your eyes on them as you hugged your knees.You were a sight, bushy hair, glasses, braces, and an intense look on your face. He felt bad. 

For a second.

“Why don’t you go on over there and play dolls with Shandy and “n’em, Bunny?”

You glanced over at the girls playing on the next stoop, their braids wilting in the sun. They were playing with stiff dolls with stiff plastic hair and legs that didn’t bend. Not your scene.

You just poked your tongue out at him and moved to stand in the water now dripping out of the hydrant, your strawberry sneakers with the bows getting drenched. You smiled down at them, thinking of how mad your mother would be.

“Aw, c’mon Brock. She ain’t hurtin’ nobody. Let her have some fun.”

Bucky’s blue eyes shone down at you and you pushed up your glasses and looked up at him, squinting in the sun. Stevie’s bony elbow bumped into yours as you hopped to avoid the bruising gush of water along the pavement as they succeeded in their quest.

“Sorry.”

Stevie smiled at you. He really was a nice boy, even though he was pugnacious. Bucky was a smart ass, however.

“You don’t want her to melt, do ya? Your old man would skin you alive.” 

Stevie and Bucky laughed as Brock scowled. He didn’t have time for benevolence or little sisters. He had plans. He shook his head.

“Focus. We gotta stick with the plan. Sammy Wilson is coming over to talk about what’s happening tonight, and she doesn’t need to be around.”

You flipped Brock off behind Bucky and Stevie’s back, and he just scowled harder at you. No matter what you did, he didn’t engage with you like you wanted him to. How boring.

Bucky whistled. 

“Wilson is fast. That dude can run his ass off.”

Sam was on the track team at the high school down the block.

“I can beat him.”

Stevie puffed his bird chest out and Brock and Bucky laughed at him. You felt bad. 

“I believe you Stevie.”

He grinned at you and ducked his head.

Brock rolled his eyes and you flipped him off.

He pointed back at you.

“I’m sick of you. I’m telling Dad.”

You thrilled at the attention.

“Go ahead, I’ll tell him what you’re up to.”

Brock grabbed you by the shirt, snarling.

“You better not say a fucking word.”

You pulled away and landed on the pavement, your knee skinned. You kneeled, bending over to look at it, and to keep your tears inside, when you heard the voice of an angel.

“Need some help?”

You looked up into a face haloed by the sun. You reached for the hand that was offered and stood up to look into the face of 14 year old Sammy Wilson. And you were done for.

That gap tooth smile, those eyes. That skin.

You stared at him as you registered laughter around you. Sam spoke again.

“You okay?”

He seemed like he really wanted to know how you were.

“Y-yeah.”

He chuckled.

“You better clean that off.”

Sam took your hand and led you back over to the hydrant. He kneeled down, cupped water in his hand and cleaned off your knee.

“Sssssss!” 

It stung.

“Sorry. But it’s for your own good.”

You felt warm, and not just from the heat, as you let him take care of you.

You stared at him as he finished.

“That’s the best I can do. You need to get a band-aid.”

“Okay.” 

You would do anything he said. Sam looked up at you and it was like the air was sucked out of your body. You didn’t know what this feeling was, but it intrigued you.

“No problem. I got a little sister at home. Sarah. Just looking out. You gotta be careful.”

He smiled as he stood up and walked away. 

You watched him move over to the other boys, forever changed because that’s when you fell in love with Sammy Wilson.

You spent that last summer in Brooklyn as the unofficial mascot of the Savage Crims, the newest gang on the block. Steve, Bucky, and Sam adopted you and you became scout, lookout, and spy. It was the best summer of your life.

Your mother moved to Los Angeles that fall and took you with her. She started dating more legitimate businessmen, meaning the same type of men as your father, just with generational wealth and privilege.

It was a different world than New York. You went to fancy private schools and learned how to play the game. You were now a “friendly black hottie,” sidekick to the main character in every scene. 

But you were smart. 

As you grew older, you watched and learned and played the part, and soon, you were running the game. By the time you graduated from high school, you were the center of attention, just the way you liked it. 

Your mother was engaged, and you and she were on the cusp of something she’d dreamed of her entire life: being iconic.

You started your first two years in college at UCLA, but you convinced your mother that fashion was how you would enable yourself to meet the best type of men, and that Parsons School of design in New York was the place to be. 

You acted as if you were uninterested in reconnecting with Brock, who your mom thought hadn’t contacted you in eight years aside from telling you that your father had died.

You convinced your mother that you wouldn’t venture off the island of Manhattan, and she believed you because she was in the midst of applying the full court press on her man.

The truth was, you and Brock kept in touch regularly, and you were eager to see your brother again. 

And his friends.

So you flew back East in 2012, 10 years after you left, butterflies threatening to fly out of your mouth as you landed at Laguardia. 

After a few weeks in the city establishing your dominance, you showed up at the boys’offices unannounced. He knew you were in town, and told you about how successful he was now, with the help of Bucky and Steve. 

And Sam. 

You were going to go see just how successful everyone was. 

And how lucky you could get.

“Who the hell is that?”

Bucky peered at the camera about the buzzer to the brownstone. Steve came over to look as well.

“It can’t be… Brock, c’mere.”

“What is it? We’re trying to work out this next shipment…”

Brock looked at the camera as Sam watched his jaw drop from the table.

“Who is it?”

“Fuck! That’s Bunny!”

Brock backed up as Steve pressed the buzzer. He opened the door to wait for you to climb the stairs.

“Stevie!?” 

Your excited shriek was muffled as the now beefy blonde picked you up immediately to twirl you around into the loft space.

You stood back, feeling his muscles through his shirt.

“Wow! You have filled out.”

“I must have learned from you…” 

Steve looked you up and down when you heard a roar in your ear.

“Bunny!”

Bucky gave you a bear hug to where you couldn’t breathe. You pounded his back and punched him in the pecs when he let go. You caught your breath and then turned to Brock, whose eyes were shining.

“God, you’re grown up. You’re not my little Bunny anymore.”

“Shut up, stupid.”

You embraced your brother, surprised at your emotion. You were choking up, about to sob in his arms.

“I missed you.”

You whispered into his shirt.

“Missed you too, kid.”

You let him go and you dabbed at your eyes. You heard someone clear their throat and looked over to see Sam standing next to you.

“Hey Sammy!”

You tried to make your voice light, so as not to betray your feelings. You’d replayed this moment in your mind a million times.

He was a man now. And damn. What a man. Tall, dark and handsome. But with that same smile. 

Sam tried to be cool. Brock was right. You weren’t little any more. A full grown woman. He tried to not check you out because he knew Brock was watching, but damn. You were beautiful. All over.

“Well? Can I get a hug?”

Sam unfroze himself.

“Of course.”

You seemed to melt into him, your breasts pressed against his chest, his lats seeming to mold around you. He could do this all day. 

When Sam opened his eyes, he saw Bucky’s raised eyebrow and he released you, stepping back and over to the table to try and pretend that all of his senses were not tuned on you.

“How’s Sarah?”

Sam smiled.

“Good. You should call her.”

You smiled back

“I will.”

Bucky interrupted.

“Tell me all about your socialite world, Ms.Y/L/N.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Rumlow ‘til I die.”

You locked eyes with Sam.

“Who does a girl have to screw to get a drink around here?”

You joked and the room fell silent.

“No one.” Brock deadpanned. “And you’ll wait another year until you’re legal.” 

You rolled your eyes.

“Yes, like everything is legal up in here.”

It was just like old times: you giving them all hell. Although Sam’s hell was different now. 

Bucky handed you a bottle of water.

“Thanks Buck!” 

You sat and crossed your legs across from Sam and Brock.

“So. How’s things?”

You four talked for hours, ordering pizza from Sal’s and shooting the shit. It was almost midnight when they drew straws to see who would take you home. Sam drew the short straw. 

Lucky him.

You rode in the passenger seat of Sam’s BMW, arms folded across your chest, an adorable bratty pout on your delectable lips. He’d been watching that mouth all night, torturing himself with visions of those in various places on his body. He was getting hard. 

Sam stifled a moan which he tried to play off.

You jumped a little when he growled at you.

“What the hell is wrong with you, little girl?”

You turned toward him, mad.

“First of all, I’m not a little girl any more.”

“Yeah, Right.”

It sounded dismissive, but Sam was really just agreeing with you.

“Second of all, y’all really drew straws to take me home?”

You glared at him as he laughed at your outrage.

“I’m not the little tagalong from years ago. I didn’t even need you to take me home. I could call anyone to come get me. To come get this.”

You held up your flip phone and indicated your body. Sam’s dark eyes took you in and felt possessive. Holy shit, he was in deep. 

“I’m sure you got lots of hardheads after you.” 

Sam clenched his jaw and looked back at the road as he drove to The Village.

“We’re busy men, Bunny. We got important work to do. Brock will be working for a couple more hours, Bucky is running the streets, and Steve probably has a date right now…”

“At 1 am? You mean a booty call.”

Sam continued, ignoring you.

“But what will never change is us protecting you. We’re family, Bunny.”

You pushed his head and he glared at you.

“Same little boys is all I see. Important crimes, you mean.”

You huffed back into your seat, your breasts bouncing in your spandex dress. Sam fought to keep his eyes on the road.

“I’ll show you a little boy. Don’t try me, Bunny.”

You turned back to him, batting your eyes, but your attitude on 1000.

“I’d love to try you Sammy.”

Sam had the urge to take you by the throat and slide you up and down his dick, but he just squeezed the steering wheel harder, trying to ignore you. 

“Hey Sammy.”

He sideyed you. Your voice was too sweet.

“Let’s go get a drink.”

“Fuck no!”

“C’mon, don’t be a prude. I drank all the time in Europe this summer.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, this isn’t Europe, and I don’t give a fuck.”

You sat back in your seat, grumbling and frustrated. He would never see you as anything but little Bunny. By the time you got to campus, you didn’t even wait for Sam to park before you jumped out. He caught up with you, long legs gaining ground quickly. He grabbed your arm.

“Hey!”

“Let me go!”

You turned around and popped him in the nose by reflex.

“Shit!” 

Sam held his face and doubled over.

“Oh, my damn! I’m sorry Sammy. Let me see.”

“Stop…”

Sam pulled away from you and as his hands moved, blood spattered all over his shirt and the concrete below him.

“Oh no. Oh no. I’m so sorry.”

Sam was moving away.

“Just.. leave me alone. I’m okay…”

“No you’re not. I’m sorry Sammy. Come up to my place. Please. I’ll clean you up.”

Sam opened his watery eyes to see your remorseful face and let you lead him up to your apartment, up three flights of stairs. You took him immediately to the bathroom and you washed him up, giving him a wet washcloth and telling him to lean his head forward, indicating the toilet.

Sam sat down and did as he was told, pinching the bridge of his nose.

You sat on the floor below him and stared up at him, hugging your knees.

“I’m so so so so sorry Sammy…”

He looked at you, silent, and continuing to pinch his nose.

You stayed with him for 15 minutes until he stopped bleeding and stood up again, cleaning up a bit more. You felt so bad.

You stared at his shirt as he stood.

“Jeez, Sammy, take that shirt off, let me soak it.”

Sam remained silent, but took off his shirt.

You bent over to get some hydrogen peroxide from the cabinet, scrubbed the shirt a little, then soaked it in cold water.

Sam was watching your ass, almost feral at the fact that you were such a brat. You needed to be tamed. But you were Brock’s kid sister. He was so torn. 

“You can grab a sweatshirt out of my –” 

You turned around toward and stopped mid thought, mind blank at the sight of Sam’s shirtless form.

“Holy shit.”

Sam gave you a lopsided grin.

“You keep sweatshirts in your holy shit?”

You didn’t even hear the tease, just licked your lips as you stepped toward him.

“Sammy?”

Sam gulped and tried to calm down. But the look on your face was everything at the moment. He knew he probably should have, but he didn’t stop you as you entered his space. You reached your hand up to his nose.

“Are you ok?”

“I think so.” 

Sam reached up and manually shifted his nose. 

“Probably just broken for the third time. Been in a couple of scraps.”

Your fingers entwined with his and you brought them to your lips. Tears started to slide down your face.

“I’m sorry.”

Sam wiped the tears from your face with his thumbs.

“Don’t cry. I’m ok.”

He pulled you in for a hug, and then leaned back.

As you looked up at him, he whispered, “So damn beautiful, Bunny…” 

Suddenly, he was kissing your face, collecting your salt water with his lips. Then, he pulled away.

“What are we doing?” 

You began to nuzzle his palm, while your hands reached for his pecs.

“Stop thinking so much, Sammy…”

“Thinking’s what got us into this..”

You nodded.

“D’you know how long I’ve been thinking about this?”

Your eyes followed your hands as they traced his chest, then his sternum down to his happy trail. His stomach clenched at the sensation. He was too far gone.

“How long?”

“From the first time someone tried to be with me sexually. I never really wanted to, I mean I’ve messed around, I can suck your soul out, but I’ve never wanted anyone inside of me.”

You were tracing his hard on outside of his pants, your face upturned now.

“Are you trying to say that…you’re…”

You nodded again.

“You were always in the back of my mind, Sam. I only want you.”

Sam tilted his head downward and captured your lips in a kiss, as though it were inevitable.

You both drew back and then your lips crashed together again, your bodies pressed up against each other urgently.

The kiss was everything you ever imagined and everything Sam didn't know that he wanted. Your hands went for his belt buckle. At that moment, Sam placed his hands on your arms and pushed you away from him.

“We can’t do this.”

You nodded, stepped back and took a deep breath.

“You’re right. You’re one of my brother’s best friends. No need for you to pop my cherry or anything.”

You two stared at each other. Then you licked your lips. Sam cocked his eyebrow, trying to restrain himself from the animalistic urges your filthy mouth gave him.

“You little brat.”

Sam grabbed your neck to pull you close to him. He reached down to pull your skirt up and he rubbed your ass like he was trying to shine it. He then put both hands on you to spread your cheeks apart. Your wetness was evident in the sound. You buried your face in his chest, embarrassed.

“Sounds like you really want this.”

For once in your life, you were speechless, and Sam reached down and angled your head up so he could look at you.

“I need you tonight Sam.”

You kissed him again and tried to get on your knees. But Sam stopped you and led you over to your bed.

“You’re the queen right now.”

You pulled off your dress and stood there in your bra and panties as Sam pulled you toward your bed to lay beside him, his hand caressing down the side of your body. 

He moved his fingers over the lace of your bra to find your nipple, and when it was discovered, he pinched it to see your reaction. The way your eyes closed halfway and your mouth opened was everything. He reached behind you to expertly unhook your bra and looked down on you.

“You're so beautiful.”

And he dipped his head running his tongue around the edges of your areola, making your nipple rock hard against his breath. Then, he started sucking in earnest, his huge hand going to tweak and play with the other. You threw your head back in earnest, the feeling in your cunt growing with each pull of his mouth. You started moaning.

“You mean to tell me…. That no one has ever… had the pleasure…”

Sam asked the important question between having his mouth on you. He couldn’t get enough.

You shook your head and furrowed your brow. It was taking you out of the moment. Sex was just a means to an end for you up until now.

“I suck them off, and they’re satisfied. S’not a big deal….. Ahhhhh.”

Sam stopped what he was doing to look into your eyes. 

“It is a big deal, Bunny. You deserve everything.”

Sam tenderly kissed your lips as he pulled your panties off, and then returned to your breasts. Tears slipped down your face to the pillow beneath your head as he finally parted your legs. His hand, led by his long middle finger slid down your wet, wet folds to play in your slick. 

“Mmmmmm. That’s that shit I like.” 

Sam rumbled in his chest, and the vibrations reached your nipple, causing you to arch into his mouth and hand. Sam’s fingers worked your clit and you could feel it get hard and plucky. You heard the sloshing wetness of your arousal. So did Sam. He pulled off to look at you again.

“You ever play with yourself?”

The look on his face was part possession and part genuine concern.

“Of course. But not this goooddddd…. Shit Sam. I just hit it and quit it…. Fuckkkk that feels good.”

Sam was plucking your nipple with one hand and rubbing your clit in expert circles with the other, watching the ecstasy on your face as you neared your peak. 

“C’mon for me now. Cum. right here in my hand…Yes…. That’s a girl…”

It hit you like a ton of bricks.

“Holy mother of……ssshhhhhhiiiiittttt! Sam! Fuckkkk fuck fuck fuck!”

You tried to grab his hand to move it away, but he was strong. Oh so strong. He didn’t stop.

“Sam… I… Sam stop..I can't…”

“You can, and you will. Take it. You’re tough. You can take it.” 

You convulsed as your pulses slowed down and you tried to relax.

“That’s a girl. Just give it to me. Let me have it. Love that shit. You’re beautiful right now, you know that?”

You calmed under his praise and got into the groove of his pleasure.

Sam’s fingers started exploring you, one of them sliding easily inside you, so he added another, but when he reached the second knuckle, you clamped down hard.

“Shit, Bunny. You’re so so tight.”

Sam looked at you with lust and you could feel his cock throbbing against your thigh, his precum making a mess.

“Thought that first one would have loosened you up. Looks like you need at least one more.”

Your eyes grew wide as he slid down your body, fingers still inside you, but now his mouth clamping around your clit, which was still sensitive. Your knees closed around his head and he pried them off with one hand.

“Take it Bunny. You deserve.”

It was the last thing he said before he destroyed your soul with his mouth. He licked and sucked and lapped, and his fingers slid inside you and curled the spark of pain muted by the fireworks behind your eyes as you came harder than you ever had in your life, including a few minutes earlier.

“Hnnnnh, hunnnnnnhh. Sam…”

He was kneeling up now, grabbing for his pants and a condom. When you saw the foil packet, you stopped him.

“No Sammy. Wanna feel you.”

Sam raised his eyebrow.

“Mom put me on the pill when I was 13. It’s like a vitamin now. I’m good.”

Sam nodded and his thumb went to your still vibrating clit as he swiped his head in your viscous slit. He managed to pop his thicker-than-you-thought head inside you, but you yelped in pain as he tried to slide in.

He leaned down, arms on either side of your head as you clutched his shoulders.

“You good?”

You nodded, tears in your eyes as you smiled.

“I want it, I need it. Give it to me.”

Sam looked at you, shook his head and smiled.

He slid inside you slowly, seeming to grow wider and longer with each inch that he gave you. The burning between your legs was soothed by his praise and tender kisses on your forehead.

“There you go.  Feels so so good for me Bunny. You’re doing so good. I can’t believe this… Make me wanna cum already. This pussy is so tight. And so good. Better than I’ve ever had…”

Sam relaxed you, and you began to enjoy that he was taking you apart. When your moans matched his thrusts was when he started to give it to you, his will power waning.

You were the epitome of desire.

He hiked your leg above his hip so that he could dig deeper and his thumb found your clit again.

“One more Bunny. Just one more…”

He felt you flutter around him and he gripped the base of his cock. 

“Sammy….”

“Yes… oh… fuck yes….”

“Ohhh! Ah!”

Your cream gushed around him as you came and Sam grunted and let go inside you.

“Fuuuuucckkkkkkkk aahhhhhhh ahhhh. Fuck!”

Sam felt like he his balls would never empty and he slumped on top of you, feeling your arms snake around him to hold him.

“Mmmm… Sammy.”

He could hear the smile in your voice. He leaned up off of you and kissed your nose, looking into your eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You smiled at him and Sam’s heart was gone. You had it locked up.

“Better than okay.”

He kissed you again.

“Stay right here.”

He went to the bathroom, coming backwith a washcloth and tenderly cleaned you up. You heard the bath running.

“You’re going to be sore.”

“Yes. I’m going to feel you for a week.”

Sam grinned and you saw his cock come to life. You smirked and gingerly moved ot get out of bed.

“Join me in the bathtub Sammy. Wanna try the wet and wild….”

Sam was hypnotized by the sway of your ass.

He didn’t think of the implications of what just happened. He’d had a taste, and his hunger was voracious. He just wanted you.

And that would become a problem.

Reblogging is always a good thing if you liked it.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

No Sugar Tonight 4

Character: Brock Rumlow

Summary: A regular customer becomes more than just a familiar face.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You look around the diner uncertainly. Brock slurps down his third coffee as you wring your hands in your lap. There’s a few bites of waffle left on your plate but you can barely stomach what you managed to get down. You don’t understand what he’s doing. 

He signals for the waitress and asks, no, tells her to get the check. He has a way of commanding everyone around him. Including you. 

His dark eyes narrow in your direction. You wonder if he can see your thoughts written on your face. You drop your gaze to the table and fidget. He sighs and wipes his mouth with a napkin. He crumples it and tosses it on his plate as he leans forward. 

“That syrup is all sugar,” he flicks the glass bottle. “You should have eggs for breakfast. Good protein.” 

You wince and look at him, “I’m sorry--” You don’t understand why he didn’t say anything before. 

“Now you know. I know you can listen. You can learn. When I tell you something, I want you to remember,” his voice is grizzly and grinding. “I don’t like to repeat myself.” 

“Uh, okay,” your brows tweak in confusion. 

The waitress returns and he pays in cash. He leaves her a tip but not a very good one. You only slide off the bench as he stands at the end and huffs. 

He keeps you ahead of him as he herds you out of the diner. You come out onto the street and dawdle just along the pavement. He comes up next to you and seizes your hand. You jolt in surprise as his callouses brush your soft skin. 

“I should go home--” 

“We’re going home,” he insists and tugs your arm. “I know you remember what I said.” 

You search the city street as panic rises up your throat, “but... I don’t know you--” 

“You know me. You need me.” He curtails your argument. “I don’t like you acting like this.” 

“I’m not...” you begin and shake your head. “I was only doing my job, sir.” 

“Not your job anymore. Things are different. How they should be.” He drags you down the sidewalk, yanking you into step as your soles scuff in reluctance. You have no choice by to keep pace. “You will have everything you need.” 

Your mouth opens and you snap it shut again. What can you say or do? He’s so much stronger than you. Besides, he already called your boss and ruined everything. 

“You’re really pretty, you shouldn’t make those face,” he says. 

You wipe the frustration from your features and put your head down. He clears his throat. 

“Stand straight. Good posture is important.” He girds again. 

You make yourself stand straight and measure your steps with his. He slows and you look around, searching for the reason. He approaches a black card and opens the passenger door. 

“In.” 

That’s it. His singular order. His hand creeps up from yours and up your arm and he nudges you. You obey. 

He shuts the door and goes around the hood. He gets in the driver seat and focus on starting the engine and pulling out into the traffic crawl. You shrink down and hug yourself. 

“Where... Can I get some of my things--” 

“Got em.” He snarls. 

You swallow the last of your resistance. You’re not sure what he means but you’ll take it as a no. You look out the windshield and watch the pedestrians and the taxis. Wait, you should scream! You should cry out for help! 

You peek over at the door and your hand trails towards the handle. The door locks with a thunk. 

“Do your seatbelt up,” he orders. 

You retract and do as he bids. He grunts and taps his fingers on the ridge steering wheel. He reaches over to clasp your wrist in his thick hand and squeezes. 

“I got a buddy on the force. Several. You wanna go for a ride to a precinct, I’ll take you there myself and we’ll see how that goes. You don’t needa be like this. I’m not hurting you, I'm helping.” He raises your arm and you whimper. You don’t know what to do. He pulls your hand close and he presses a kiss to your knuckles, a gesture both unnerving yet gentle.  

He lets you go and grips the wheel again. You rub your wrist as a tingle ripples in the back of your hand. You look ahead through the window then back at him. 

He’s a big man. Thick arms, broad shoulders, tall. His dark hair has a few strands of silver that blend into the rest and his jaw is shadowed with stubble. The cleft in his chin adds to his sinister appearance and an icy determination squares his features. 

“You can turn some music on,” he nods towards the radio. “None of that girly pop.” 

You hesitate but cautiously reach to touch the buttons on the dash. You scan through the satellite radio stations and find a song you know. The White Stripes. He hums but you can’t tell if he’s annoyed or content. You sit back and hug yourself. 

“I haven’t been mean so you don’t needa be scared,” he commands. Everything he says is an order, as if you’re his soldier. 

“Yes, sir,” you gulp. 

“Brock, baby, you can call me Brock,” he insists. 

[e-dubbc11]

Summer Sleepover request 😊

How about a tiny reader drabble based on

'Can I kill him now?'

with Brock and Frank, whatever way around takes your fancy!

Thank you! 😘

Stef!! Thank you so so much for sending in this ask and participating in my summer sleepover! I hope you like what I ended up doing. It was fun to write! ♥️

Can I Buy You a Drink?

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x F! Reader with Bartender! Frank Castle

Warnings: Couple of sexual references, maybe a swear word or two, SHIELD agent being a creep, fluff, drinking.

Word Count: 1.9K-ish

Summary: Reader works in a bar with Frank that he owns and manages. A very handsome SHIELD agent and the rest of his team come in for a drink after a long training session at Anvil.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The strong scent of citrus floated past your nose as you removed all of the glasses from the dishwasher. Frank was on the other side of you cutting up fresh limes, prepping for the Friday after work crowd that usually poured into the bar around three o’clock.

The beer glasses went into the freezer and the remaining glassware was placed on the shelves although most of your clientele stuck to beer. The Watering Hole wasn’t exactly an upscale place with its old neon signs, dim lighting, and dated décor but it was a fun place to work.

It was small and didn’t require a lot of staff or actual bartending skills which was good for you because you didn’t have any, you just needed a job. And even though it was a small place, it brought in a decent amount of money.

The tips you made, Frank let you keep all of them. He was a great boss, owned the bar, and he looked out for you. The bar was your second job and with the money you brought home, you were able to live comfortably and get back on your feet after a bad breakup with an ex who left you with nothing. You promised yourself you wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“Bill said he was sending some people over after their training today. He said they were just looking for a place to grab a couple beers. They’re in town from D.C.” Said Frank.

A look of disgust washed over your face.

“Ugh, they’re not politicians, are they Frank? Because I don’t know that I wanna deal with that tonight.” You replied.

Draping a dish towel over his shoulder, Frank chuckled as he continued to cut up limes and said, “Nah, they’re not politicians, sweetheart. Bill said they’re from a group called SHIELD.”

“Ooooh, well that sounds very clandestine, doesn’t it?” You asked, biting back a smile. “Did Billy say around what time they would be in?”

A few of your regulars were already there but as soon as the words escaped your lips, the door opened and in walked a bunch of men and a few women with their suit jackets off, ties undone, and looking pretty worn out from their training day at Anvil with Billy.

Frank glanced at you with raised eyebrows, moved closer to you, and said, “This must be them, go get ‘em kid. Bat those pretty eyes at ‘em and bring us some money, yeah? I’d do it but I don’t have pretty eyes.”

That made you laugh and when you did, you caught the eye of one of the men in the pack with dark brown hair and amber colored eyes. His dress shirt was unbuttoned and his tie was balled up in his hand. He was very handsome but had a scowl on his face, lips pressed together in a straight line and a furrowed brow.

You were a little shy when it came to larger crowds of people but you sucked it up and walked over, ready to make some money.

“Afternoon everyone! Thank you for coming in today, I’m y/n. What can I get for you?” You paused for a minute and then asked, “Oh, I’m assuming Billy told you what the deal is here? Yeah? Beer and liquor only. Cash tips, you got it?!”

“Yes ma’am.” Said the handsome man. He also had a raspy voice which was incredibly sexy.

Dammit.

You walked back to the bar after taking their order. While prepping their drinks, you glanced over again at your crush and you heard one of them say to him, “She’s hot, huh Rumlow?! I’ll give her a good tip.” He said as he hi-fived one of the other guys in the group.

“You’re such a pig, Rollins.” Said one of the women.

Frank was helping you when he said, “He’s got his eye on you, doesn’t he.”

“Which one?” You asked.

“Well, all of them actually but the older guy with the dark hair. He hasn’t taken his eyes off you since he walked in here, ya know.” Said Frank.

“He can’t be that old, Frank. Have you seen him? He’s in really good shape. And I ain’t no spring chicken either.” You said.

“Watchful eye, sweetheart. Watchful eye. You know I’m ready if you need backup.” Frank said with a smirk.

It did get a little rowdy at times but you could handle it for the most part. Frank was great backup though. He had a reputation around town. They called him “The Punisher” because of what he would do to out of control patrons and he made sure they never caused trouble in his bar again. Frank didn’t need to hire any bouncers; he was his own.

Watching from behind the bar, you noticed that this group could drink. It was round after round of beer and shots with the exception of the one they called Rumlow.

He was drinking but not nearly as much as the others and none of them were drinking more than the one named Rollins.

You and Frank were talking and cleaning when Rumlow started walking toward the bar.

“Lemme know if you need the bat, yeah?” Said Frank with a sly grin.

Shaking your head, you glared at him. He knew you could handle yourself. You couldn’t work for an ex-marine and NOT know a thing or two on how to take care of business.

Your heart started to beat faster as Rumlow approached the bar. Warmth spread across your cheeks and you glanced down at the floor so he wouldn’t see you blushing. He hadn’t even spoken to you yet and he had your stomach in knots.

Rollins was making a lot of drunken noises so Rumlow had to speak loudly for you to hear him.

“Hey, sorry about Jack. We all had a long day. I’m Brock, by the way.” He said, extending his hand for you to shake.

Slowly reaching forward, you took his hand to shake it. His thick fingers wrapped around your hand and you could feel the calluses on his palm as you couldn’t help but gaze into his golden colored eyes.

The warmth from his hand traveled quickly up your arm and spread across your chest and you felt yourself struggling to figure out how to respond.

You were finally able to arrange the words you wanted to say in your head before they fell out of your mouth.

“It’s ok, we all need to blow off steam after a long day. It’s nice to meet you, Brock.” You said with a shy smile. “Can I get you another beer?”

“Thank you, sweetheart. That would be great.” He replied.

You were sure he wasn’t aware of the face he was making, but Frank’s eyes were narrowed and he had pressed his lips together in a straight line as his eyes were fixated on Brock, not knowing exactly what his intentions were.

Frank knew how hard you worked every day to be able to provide for yourself. The last thing he wanted was some guy showing up and taking advantage of how sweet and kind you were, giving men more chances than they deserved like the last guy that broke your heart.

He just wanted to see you with someone nice for a change which is why he was carefully checking out Brock.

After pouring a beer for Brock, you told Frank you needed a bathroom break and you’d be back in a minute. You encountered Rollins in the hallway after emerging from the bathroom.

“H-hey! Th-there she is! I-I was j-just coming to tell youuuuu that I could use another beeeeeer.” He said sloppily.

“You might have reached your limit there, big guy.” You tried to say with a smile.

Rollins had stepped in front of you, not letting you pass by him.

“Excuse me, Jack. I have to get back to work.” You said with a trembling voice.

With the strong scent of beer and liquor on his breath, he had pinned you against the wall with his lower body and growled into your ear, “I don’t have any cash, pretty girl but you can take your tip from my tip if ya know what I mean.”

Jack was tall and heavy so it was difficult to try and push him off of you. His words chilled you to the bone, you were frozen in place, and couldn’t reach the knife in your back pocket.

“Let me go, Jack.” You said, coldly.

Jack continued to press into you with his crotch while you frantically kept looking down the hallway for someone to help. He was just too strong for you.

Just as you started to panic slightly, you heard a deep booming voice coming from the other end of the hallway.

“HEY!! Take your hands off of her, Rollins!” Shouted Frank.

Frank distracted Jack just long enough for you to push him away and retrieve your knife from your back pocket all in one swift motion.

Holding the knife down by his crotch, you whispered with a devilish grin on your face, “Don’t make any sudden movements, Jack. You wouldn’t want me to cut it off now, would ya?”

Brock appeared at the end of the hallway and stood next to Frank. They looked at each other, thoroughly impressed with your knife wielding skills and they both gave you a nod of approval before Frank walked toward you, grabbed Jack by the collar, and asked “Can I kill him now?”

Brock answered with bitterness in his tone before you could.

“Let me do it. It should be me.” Brock then turned to you and calmly asked, “You alright, doll? Did he hurt ya?”

Frank, still holding Jack’s shirt collar, repeated Brock’s question, “Yeah, did he hurt ya?”

“I’m fine, guys. I’m fine…really, I am.” You stumbled to get the words out.

Frank turned toward Brock and while looking at you, said, “I’ll let your team take care of him but lemme just say, if you break her heart, I’ll break your neck, got it?”

“Frank!” You interrupted and couldn’t help but smile.

Brock chuckled, “I got it…I promise, Castle.”

“Good…because they don’t call me the Punisher for nothin’.” Said Frank.

Slightly embarrassed, you rolled your eyes and replied, “Oh my god, ok, ok can you guys just get him outta my sight? My stomach is starting to turn.”

Frank tossed Jack to the rest of the SHIELD team and walked back behind the bar. Brock slowly inched closer to you, his eyes locked on yours before he leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on your cheek.

His lips were warm and soft against your skin and you felt a slight tingle in your core as you closed your eyes and pictured his lips being somewhere else.

Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself.

Before your mind could wander any further, he asked, “Can I buy you a drink?”

Frank had a strict rule about no drinking on the job. So with sad puppy dog eyes, you looked over at him, and silently begged for him to let you break the rules this one time.

Folding your hands together, you mouthed the word “Please?!!”

He rolled his eyes and began to pour two beers.

“Alright, kid. I’ll let you break the rules just this once, yeah?” He said, holding up one finger.

Biting back a sweet smile, you replied, “Yes! Thank you, Frank! You won’t regret it.”

Already seeing how smitten Brock was with you and the smile stretched across your lips, Frank gave Brock a nod and replied, “Just…this…once.”

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @k-marzolf @nekoannie-chan @nutmeg17

Others that might enjoy: @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @randomlittleimp

If I tagged you and you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again. As always, thank you again for reading!

[itwasthereaminuteago]

Okay just tossing some ideas out of my head... TW for non consent:

The Winter Soldier is sent on a mission to take out a foreign diplomat, and it just happens that you are his target's security detail.

You're always there, always in the way, in his sights, scuppering every shot, foiling all his attempts.

Rumlow, his handler, is pissed off. They can't return to the Hydra base until this mission is successfully completed, so he goes undercover, gets an invite to a fancy gala dinner with all those bigwigs where he can get your attention, distract you.

And oh, how he distracts you. You're usually so focused on your job you have no time for socialising, nevermind dating, but somehow he's slick and tears your defenses right down, and quickly has you open and vulnerable in your hotel room just upstairs, minutes away from where the Soldier is drawing a knife across your charge's throat.

When he calls in to inform his handler, Rumlow instructs him to come up to the room, he's already got you pliant and fucked out, but as soon as you see the glint of that metal arm you realise what's happened, how stupid and careless you've been.

But it's too late, you're cuffed, gagged, and no-one knows where you are. How could you have been so reckless?

You tense even more as Rumlow beckons Bucky over to where he's got you all wrapped up and prone on the bed.

"Got a little present for you. I've already had my turn, hope ya don't mind sloppy seconds."

😵‍💫

[saiyanprincessswanie]

SaiyanPrincessSwanie Reading List Week 213 & 214

A/N: Thank you again to those who recommended fanfics or tagged me. 💜 This week had me reading 50 fics. Absolutely amazing fics here. This has been so much fun for me and I hope you enjoy my reading lists.

As always these will be listed in no particular order. None of these stories are mine. I’m just signal-boosting them. The author is listed next to the title. My goal is to signal boost writers and spread positivity in the community.  💜💜

Click HERE to see what I will or won’t read. This is very important.

Click HERE for past reading lists.

For my Masterlist click HERE.

Please make sure you’re reading the warnings on every story. They range from dark to fluff. Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old. These stories are meant for adults only. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers

Header by @fictional-affairs

If you can, please reblog these lists so they can reach more people on Tumblr.

I love you 3000 💜 Missy

Need You Now - (Bucky x Reader) - @saiyanprincessswanie

Mafia Bucky Drabble - @angrythingstarlight

Goldi locked - (Curtis x Reader x Ari x Steve) - @biteofcherry

one for you and me - (Bucky x Reader) - @mellowsaturns

no place like home - (Steve x Reader) - @mellowsaturns

Drugged Courage - (Steve x Reader) - @mercurial-chuckles

Berserk Captain Rogers - (Steve x Reader) - @mercurial-chuckles

Out of My Head - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Stay - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Making Time - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Sunrises and Sunsets - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

More time - (Brock x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

somebody else - (Bucky x Reader) - @lunarbuck

Deception - (Andy x Reader) - @stargazingfangirl18

Fate Part 1 - (Curtis x Reader) - @thezombieprostitute

Fate Part 2 - (Curtis x Reader) - @thezombieprostitute

Guilt - (Bucky x Reader) - @deliciousangelfestival

Oh My - (Jake x woc!Reader) - @syntheticavenger

hard drive - (Jake x Reader) - @syntheticavenger

Comply - (Winter Soldier x Reader) - @tumblin-theworldaway

Mafia Bucky Drabble - @angrythingstarlight

A Much Needed Reminder - (Andy x Reader) - @stargazingfangirl18

Hold Me - (Ari x Reader) - @flordeamatista

Losing Control - (Bucky x Reader) - @flordeamatista

till the end of time - (Thor x Reader) - @sergeantxrogers

for so long as you live - (Bucky x Reader) - @witchywithwhiskey

"My King" - (Thor x Reader) - @fluffyprettykitty

Vicious - (Bucky x Reader) - @fluffyprettykitty

Another Ending 1 - (Bucky x Reader) - @deliciousangelfestival

Another Ending - 2 - (Bucky x Reader) - @deliciousangelfestival

You Should've Seen Him - (Steve x Reader) - @buckets-and-trees

I Will Always Come When You Call - (Bucky x Reader) - @eat-limes-bitches

Love Marks - (Bucky x Reader) - @flordeamatista

Betrayed heart - (Brock x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Hold You Tight: Part 6 - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Cold hearted - Chp 3 - (Multi Pairings) - @missvelvetsstuff

Cold hearted - Chp 4 - (Multi Pairings) - @missvelvetsstuff

Indecent Proposal - (8) - (Stucky x Reader) - @holylulusworld

Leap of faith - (Steve x Reader) - @mostly-marvel-musings

Drabble Roulette: F*ck Machine - Bucky Barnes - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

Touching - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Delivered - (Curtis x Reader) - @stargazingfangirl18

Big Pharma - (Steve x Reader) - @ronearoundblindly

Back to the Office - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

liquor - (Thor x Reader) - @syntheticavenger

I know what you did - (Lee B x Reader) - @tumblin-theworldaway

Chivalry - (Steve x Reader) - @mostly-marvel-musings

So, This Is Love! - (Ransom x Reader) - @americasass81

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet - Chp 10 - (Curtis x Honey) - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Your Mark On Me - Part 13 - (Steve x Reader) - @georgiapeach30513

[magicalqueennightmare]

Familiar Stranger

Brock Rumlow X Reader

Yall I found this abandoned in an OLD folder so 🤷‍♀️

When Rick's group is cornered by the saviors you offer yourself as the pound of flesh Negan is owed to save your people but a familiar face is amongst your enemies

You had no clue who these assholes were nor what their plan was for all of you. They had the upperhand, your crew was outmanned and outgunned. That knowledge mixed with looking down the line up at Maggie who was pregant and in pain, Daryl who had visibily been injured and Carl who still had so much life ahead of him even in this world was the only thing that made you go along with being told to get on your knees.

You chanced a look around trying to get some sort of an idea just how many were surrounding all of you. Your stomach felt as heavy as if a slab of concrete was settled in the pit of it. There were so many bodies, men far enough back from the headlights of the trucks parked throughout the clearing that all you could see of them were their silhouettes. Too many to count and far too many to fight.

One stepped in front of the line up leering at you before turning his attention to Rick. You watched his demeanour, how everything from his hair which was greased to the out of date mustache screamed pervert. If you knew you wouldn't cause harm to become of anyone else you would've been tempted to kill him for the hell of it. "Alright we got a full boat lets meet the man" He announced and that got your attention.

Your eyes followed him across the clearing to where the RV had been parked. He knocked on the side of it then walked back over to stand with some of the men obviously awaiting whoever was about to make their presence known. The door opened and a man walked slowly down onto the dirt. He was around Ricks height wearing a leather jacket and carrying a wicked looking bat over his shoulder that had been meticulously wrapped in barbed wire under other circumstances you would've called him attractive but at the moment your aunt's voice saying how lucifer was the best looking in the garrison rang through your ears as if she was sitting right next to you. "Pissing our pants yet?" He asked with a smile that you ached to knock off his face.

"Boy do I have a feeling we're getting close" he continued as he started to cover the ground between where he stood and where all of you had been lined up for the picking. "Yup. Gonna be piss pants city here real soon" you knew all of this was an intimidation factor but you refused to cower when he met your eyes. "Which one of you pricks is the leader?" He asked skimming his eyes across your faces. "Its this one. He's the guy" Perv revealed pointing to Rick. Baseball bat stopped in front of Rick and smiled "Hi. You're Rick right? I'm Negan and I do not appreciate you killing my men" Negan took a breath then added "Also when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people. You killed more of my people. Not cool. You have no idea how not cool that shit is"

Negan looked over all of you again before his eyes went back to Rick "but I think you're gonna be up to speed shortly. Yeah. You are so gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes" you felt bile threatening to come up into your throat. Negans words held an unspoke threat you knew was going to be horrible and bloody.

He smiled and took a step away from Rick "See Rick no matter what you do. You don't mess with the new world order. The new world order is this and it's really very simple so even if you're stupid which you very well may be. You can understand it. Ya ready?" He looked around then smiled "Here goes. Pay attention. Give me your shit or I will kill you"

He moved to walk down the line making sure to look all of you who raised your faces in the eye "Today was career day. We invested a lot so you would know who I am and what I can do. You work for me now" you felt your mouth fall open in shock when he continued "You have shit. You give it to me. That's your job. Now I know that is a mighty big nasty pill to swallow but swallow it you must"

You met Michonnes eyes when Negan stopped in front of Rick again. She was scared "You rule the roost. You built something. You thought you were safe I get it but the word is out. You are not safe. Not even close. In fact you are pegged more so if you don't do what I want and what I want is half your shit and if that is too much you can make, find or steal more and it will all even out sooner or later"

He stepped back to look over all of you again and you tried to see Daryls face but he was looking down. Negan continued to walk back and forth down the line as he talked "This is your life now. The more you try to fight back the harder it'll be. So someone knocks on your door. You let us in. We own that door" he was in front of Daryl and you were finally able to see how pale your friend was.

Negan moved to be back in front of Rick "You try to stop us and we will knock it down. You understand?" He moved closer to Rick cupping his ear as if he couldn't hear when Rick refused to respond "What? No answer?"

He stepped back to address all of you again and by now his voice was grating I n everything inside of you. "You all didn't think you were gonna get through this without getting punished now did ya? I don't wanna kill you people. I want you to work for me. Can't do that if you're dead now can you?" You cut your eyes up hoping maybe there was someone you could at least insure the injured made it out alive until he added "But you killed a whole damn lot of my people. More than I'm comfortable with. And for that you're gonna pay. So now I'm gonna beat the holy hell out of one of you"

Your eyes flew from Rick to Glenn to Carl to Daryl then finally Maggie and Michonne. When you'd had no group they'd taken you in and had become so much more.

Negan held up his bat "This is Lucille and she is awesome" you took a breath preparing to get his attention on you should it come down to it. Then he said the words that you had already put together. This entire cat and mouse game was for him to pick who to kill.

He stared down Glenn then Maggie and Abraham before pointing to Carl "You've got one of our guns. You've got a whole bunch of our guns" he crouched down in front of Carl and you allowed yourself a moment of pride to see Carl was staring him down. "Shit kid. Lighten up. At least cry a little" "If you wanna kill someone get on with it. Hell I'm to the verge of volunteering to not hear you talk anymore" your mouth moved on its own over ridden by the aunt like bond you had with Carl.

Negan stood tucking the gun he'd taken from Carl into his waistband then walked over to be standing in front of you. Out the corner of your eye you saw the crowd of his men moving as someone worked their way through but you couldn't allow your attention to be split. Negan crouched in front of you and smiled "You are a god damn live wire ya know that? If looks could've killed from you I would've been dead the minute i stepped out. What's your name?" "Y/N" you all but growled and once again noticed his men moving around. He licked his lips slowly then nodded "Y/N darling it'd be too much of a waste to kill you"

He stood up and moved down the line and you suddenly had an urge to bathe. Someone holding basically everyone you cared about hostage flirting with you felt just dirty.

When he stopped in front of Maggie and said "Damn you look shitty. I should put you out of your misery now" Glenn hollered "NO" and jumped out of line only to be dragged back by the man with a half burnt face.

You fought every urge in your body to make a move towards Negan but you didn't for fear of harm becoming someone else. "Get him back in line" he spoke about Glenn then looked around "Don't any of you try that shit again. I will shut it the fuck down. It's an emotional time I get it so first one's free"

He looked at Rick who the gravity of the situation had appeared to have fully hit "Sucks don't it? The moment you realize you don't know shit" a realization hit Negan as he pointed to Carl "This your kid right?" Then laughed "This is definitely your kid"

You knew Negan was trying to force a reaction from Rick who broke and hollered "Stop this" he turned to Rick and shook his head "Do Not make me kill the little future serial killer. Don't make it easy on me. I gotta pick somebody. Everyone's at the table waiting for me to order"

He glanced back towards you and smiled "I got an idea" your felt your hands start to shake either from fear or adrenaline as he started "eeny meanie miney mo" pointing lucille at everyone in turn. You were praying for the first time in years. When he stopped in front of Abraham a small part of you felt a strange mixture of relief and guilt. "Looks like you're it"

He looked around before turning back to Abraham "You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell you're all gonna be doing that"

When he raised Lucille you screamed "NEGAN WAIT" He froze and looked back at you "Y/N would you like to address the class?" You met Carl's gaze then said "You want your pound of flesh. I get it. I've got plenty. Take it from me" he grinned in a way that was more predator than man "What are you offering darling?" You stood up ignoring hands grabbing at you "me for my people"

"Hell no" you heard someone say from behind you and froze in your tracks. You hadn't heard that voice since about six months before the world as you knew it came to a screeching halt. You turned slowly forgetting even Negan and the situation at hand momentarily. He looked almost the same as he had the day you said your goodbyes. His dark hair was a little shaggier but everything else was the same. He even still had that same chain peeking out his shirt collar, handsome enough it hurt and made you question your morals. "Brock?"

"Hey Doll" He spoke as if the world hadn't ended, as if he hadn't tore your heart out your chest and as if he wasn't on the crew of the men holding your people at gun point. "Hold up..Rumlow how do you know our little live wire here?" Negan asked his attention having been drawn from the prospect of bashing in Abrahams head to the drama clearly threatening to unfold.

"She was my girl before the world went to shit" his eyes never left yours as he spoke. Negan let out a low whistle which made you look back at him "Well shit..Y/N darling you're just full of surprises aren't ya?" Your head was spinning. All of this was simply too much. You could feel soo many eyes on you at that moment. Your entire group and half of Negans was staring you down. You knew his men were sizing you up while your group was probably just as thrown as you were.

"Well Brock seems your girl here has a set of brass ones. She's offered herself up to save her people" you spoke without thinking and flinched at your own voice when you said "I'm not his. He left me before the dead started walking. These people here? They're the reason I'm alive. My life is my bargaining chip and mine alone" you felt more than heard Brock move behind you and took a step to the side before he could touch you because at that moment you were certain just the barest brush of his hand would cause you to crumple and you had to stay strong.

"Rick what do you say? I mean I can kill Y/N but god damn a woman like that would be a fucking waste indeed or I can kill carrot top and take her as collateral to insure all of you hold up your side of the deal" dying you'd agreed to but there was no way you were being taken prisoner. You had seen what this group was capable of and from Brock being with them you knew he'd changed since he was yours.

Every one spoke at once. "I'm not a fucking trophy. You want me dead bash my head in but this ain't turning into capture the flag with me being the star role" you spoke staring Negan down you were sure it was a dying man's last hurrah but at least you wouldn't be on your knees. "He ain't fucking killing you Y/N" Brock sounding so protective over you made you fight the urge to close your eyes from the flood of emotions threatening to pull you under. You'd gladly trade it back in for the fear and disgust you'd simply been feeling.

"I ain't letting her trade her Iife for mine" you felt guilt flood through you for the moment of relief at Abraham being chosen over Carl or Glenn. "Kill me. These are my people. I'm supposed to protect them" Ricks voice was steady when he spoke but you could see the horror in Michonnes and Carls eyes.

"Enough of this shit" you all but growled and snatched the knife from the top of your boot seeing the flash of recognition in Brocks eyes. You put the sharp blade to your throat and leveled your gaze at Rick. "He wants one of us dead so I'll oblige him" Negan gave a sharp nod of his head and a shot rang out a half second before Brock was on you easily over powering you and getting the knife out your hand. You screamed in horror as Abrahams lifeless eyes stared across the clearing, a single bullet hole between his eyes.

Brock tucked your knife into his waist with one hand holding you against his chest despite your struggles. When your knees gave away he went down with you. "Here's the deal to all you shit heads take it or no one will leave here alive. Daryl and Y/N come with us. I like their spunk. All of you get to work and we will come to Alexandria next week for our first batch of goodies"

"Leave her and Daryl alone" Rick warned as was met with Negan pointing a gun at his head "Did I god damn stutter?" "Rick it's alright" Daryl finally spoke meeting your eyes and you nodded ceasing your fight against Brock. "We'll be ok" you managed and Negan smiled and clamped his hands together. "Well this has been a fruitful night indeed"

He looked at the guy with a half burnt face "Dwight take Daryl to the van" then looked at you "I'm guessing you'll wanna ride with Rumlow" you let Brock pull you to your feet and glanced back at Rick who barely nodded. They would fight somehow you knew they would fight.

Brock pulled you towards a dark blue truck and opened the drivers door "get in" you climbed in almost mechanically. Too much had happened in too short of a time from being hijacked by Negan and his so called saviors to the only man you'd ever truly loved coming back seemingly from the dead.

"Here" Brock speaking broke you out your own head and you realized he was holding your knife out hilt first. "Was yours first" your voice cracked as you took the ka-bar and slid in into place in your boot. He watched your movements before turning the engine over in the truck and starting to drive. A long silence stretched between the two of you befire he broke it by saying "Whyd you keep it?" You could feel tears prickling your eyes but didn't dare close them for fear of seeing Abrahams lifeless body staring back at you again. "It was the one thing I had left of you" you answered honestly feeling the tears flow down your face.

Brock opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it right back. You knew he was watching you with those eyes that were the color of whiskey. Just as warm and just as addictive. You had loved his eyes from the moment you met him. You leaned your head back staring up at the roof of his truck. After a moment his hand brushed against your leg and when you flinched away from him he let out a breath "I'm sorry about your friend but honestly I would've seen them all dead before you. I thought you were dead once already and I'm not reliving that"

"Too bad I wasn't" you replied and got a warped sense of accomplishment at seeing his jaw tighten at your words. "You'll be staying in my quarters. Was Negans idea to bring you because it's clear what those people mean to you and you to them but even if you hate me I'm going to protect you as much as I can"

There was so much you wanted to say. You wanted to scream, to cuss, to hit him hell even jump out the truck but if your presence bought time it was worth it and you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't still have some sort of love for the man sitting across from you even if he was a virtual stranger. "I won't fight" you said and saw him relax a bit until you added "for now"