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lethalchiralium · 2 years ago

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No More | [3] | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: i think i have a storyline. i’m winging the SHIT out of this y’all it’s not even funny. (…maybe a top gun-ish au but we’ll see) I LITERALLY CANNOT FIGURE OUT HOW TO KEEP THIS GOING BUT I KEEP FINESSING??? WHAT IS HAPPENING. this sucks too but whatever. i love it. messy is messy and i love it

warnings: angst, cussing, MEDICAL ATTENTION/INACCURACIES, cerby being both useless and useful but we love him, MENTIONS/ALLUSIONS OF DOMESTIC ABUSE (NOT ABOUT ANYONE FROM 141), cussing, violence, trauma, Top Gun ;)

summary: It takes time heal a wound that big. Alejandro and Soap are big oafs, you have unwanted conversations in person and in text, one with Keegan and one with your elusive best friend back home.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

Against Simon’s best protests, you found yourself sitting at your desk on base, already gone over files you meant to before the mission. Your pen hadn’t stopped writing as you signed off on patient notes, confirming what you had put down when you examined them.

It was nearing ten in the morning when your personal phone began to buzz. You glanced up from your notes, grabbing it and looking at the notifications.

ROOS: Alive?

It was your best friend. He texted you every few months to make sure you were, indeed, alive. He fought you tooth and nail about you joining the 141, that’s why you don’t talk as often as you used to.

YOU: Maybe. What’s up?

ROOS: Just checking

YOU: You okay?

ROOS: Had a bad dream.

ROOS: Are you okay? Are you safe?

It wasn’t often that Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw asked if you were safe. It wasn’t often that he texted you at all. Your nightmares were about surviving a plane crash, eating dinner next to frozen and rotting corpses in a town in Ukraine - his nightmares were of flying back day after you crashed to explode your plane so the enemy had no access to the technology, his nightmares were of the weeks of mourning he did of you because your rescue was a classified Special Forces op. That and sometimes, it was of the night you two don’t speak about anymore. He’s protective of you.

YOU: Yes, I’m safe. And at work. I’ve got like 10 guard dogs.

ROOS: Okay

YOU: One of them’s a real dog

YOU: Are you okay? Do you need me to call you?

ROOS: No

YOU: Was it about Ukraine or about Nevada?

ROOS: Nevada

Well, there goes the not talking about that specific traumatic night.

YOU: Do you want to talk about it?

A knock sounded at your door, you glanced up from your phone to let out a calm, “Come in.”

The door opened quickly as you heard the clack of claws on the concrete, you pushed your chair away - a smile invaded your face. Cerberus yapped like a puppy, his front paws coming to set on your thighs as you took his face in one hand, scratching his head with the other while still holding your phone. “Hi, baby.”

The German Shepherd shoved himself forwards, his wet tongue licking your nose and cheek - you pushed him down and laughed, “No kisses, honey, we’re working.”

“He likes you a lot more than he ever will me.” You looked up to see the familiar cloth skull mask of Keegan, his hands shoved in his pockets. You smiled at him.

“How’s your chest? Doing okay?”

Keegan nodded, moving forwards to place Cerberus’s blue leash on your desk. He shrugged, crossing his arms.

“Just came to say thank you.”

Your eyes widened a fraction, hands stopped petting Cerberus - who whined in annoyance. His wet snout pushed underneath your hand, trying to get you to continue to pet him. “I just did my job.”

He sighed, going to pull the chair opposite of you out. He sat down quickly, hands wringing each other. “You didn’t-“ He paused. “You almost died.”

“Part of the job.” Your eyes glanced at your files on your desk before you set your phone on your desk.

“I remember how bad your nightmares were when you first joined us.” He recalled, hands settling on his thighs before he finally locked eyes with you. “Just wanted to make sure you’re gonna be okay before we leave.”

“So soon?” Your eyes widened with surprise. “I thought Price was keeping you guys here for a couple more months.”

“That plant they’re building is something big. Caught the eyes of the US Navy, which means-“

“Top Gun.” You finished for your friend, he gave you a knowing look. The only thing he knew was that something bad happened to you on a mission in Top Gun, he knew about the nightmares.

“Look on the bright side,” Keegan’s voice pulled you from almost jumping off the precipice into what could happen. Your hands clenched into fists. “You’re a very important medical Captain, and you’re not under their jurisdiction anymore.”

You would think. You wanted to say that Laswell kept you as a standby pilot, even though she promised you she’d never make you fly. So, in the eyes of the US Government, you were still a Top Gun asset. A damn good one at that, to the point you knew that Top Gun was pestering Laswell for you back. You wouldn’t tell Keegan that though - he’d rip someone’s throat out with his teeth.

Keegan cleared his throat. “You don’t ever have to fly again, Mercy.”

Before Ghost, there was Keegan who woke you from nightmares. Sure, he wouldn’t hold you but he’d sit next to you and quietly talk about something random, something informational - like the design and sinking of ships. If you put thought to those talks, you would be able to talk about his favorite ships. He was a good friend, incredibly loyal. You were the same.

You nodded, hands going back to pet Cerberus, whose head had settled on your thigh, eyes gazing up at you. You looked at him and smiled, scratching behind his ear. He let out a happy little yap before you looked back at Keegan, a solemn nod came from him.

“You know my number, Mercy.”

“Rest up, Sergeant.” You commented, he stood then.

He walked towards the door, opening it before he took a brief pause, looking back at you. “Be careful with Ghost.” And with that, he was out the door and had shut it behind him. Your eyebrows furrowed.

Keegan had known you two had been together since… you got together. What does that mean?

Cerberus whined, making you look back at him. He raised his paw and smacked your leg, you pet him with one hand as you grabbed your phone again, seeing more messages from Rooster.

ROOS: Trying to wake you up in your apartment. Then it was me running to the ER with you in my arms.

ROOS: I hated that feeling

ROOS: I still hate it

ROOS: I’m sorry I’m bothering you

ROOS: Please don’t tell me if you have a boyfriend again

You internally groaned, knowing how incredibly protective he got of you because of your last relationship - which was almost five years ago. You kept scratching behind Cerberus’ ear, his leg thumped against the floor.

YOU: …Surprise?

ROOS: I think I’m going to have a heart attack

ROOS: I’m gonna throw up

YOU: If it makes you feel any better, we’ve been together for a year and a half and he hasn’t done anything to me other than make me overthink things. He loves me and I know he does

ROOS: It does not make me feel better you ass. YEAR AND A HALF AND YOU HAVEN’T TOLD ME

ROOS: And stop fucking saying shit like ‘oh he loves me, he loves me not’ . That’s exactly what happened last time, you’re starting to fucking freak me out

YOU: I don’t know what else to tell you. He’s a good man.

ROOS: Last time you said that I broke my entire hand in a man’s face. Please tell me you’re safe

You wouldn’t have taken that shit from anyone else. If anyone snapped at you like that in person, they’d be on their back with a knife on their throat. By you or your guard dogs - Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro; Rudy, if you asked nicely. All the men you’ve grown to cherish their companies.

You began to type to Rooster again when there was another knock on your door, three in rapid succession. Your eyebrows furrowed, slightly annoyed. “Yes?”

The door flung open, Cerberus whined when you stopped scratching his ear as you stood, seeing Soap stumble in with a hand on his head. You flung your phone onto your desk, eyes widened. Right behind him was Alejandro and, unsurprisingly, Ghost. You were immediately around Cerberus and your desk, reaching for Soap as he groaned in pain. “What the Hell happened?!”

“Muppets got too involved in their trainin’.” Ghost growled, Alejandro gave you a smile to which you noticed the bloody gash on his forehead.

“You’re both idiots.” You grabbed Soap’s arm and pulled him towards your cot, motioning Alejandro to follow. Cerberus weaved through your patients effortlessly, immediately going straight for Ghost. He pawed at Ghost’s leg while you forced and Sergeant and Colonel to sit on your makeshift examination table. Both of them stared at you, Soap looked like he was out of it. You grabbed a pair of medical gloves, pulling them on quickly.

“Also might be nursin’ a hangover.” Soap mumbled, you rolled your eyes. Of course he had gone out last night. You would have smacked him upside the head had he not been cradling it. You forced him to move his head, seeing the bloody gash on the back of his head near his mohawk.

“Christ, how hard did you headbutt each other?” You mumbled, going to grab your med kit.

“Was his fault.” Alejandro murmured, closing his eyes. “Feels like he cracked my head open like a coconut.” You pulled out your pocket flashlight from your vest, making Soap face you again.

“Keep your eyes open and look at my nose.” The Scot blinked a few times before staring at your nose, you flashed the light into his eyes - they were both reactive, so there wasn’t brain damage. You held up your finger. “Follow my finger.” His eyes followed your finger back and forth, he was responsive so you weren’t worried. You put the flashlight back in your vest before moving Soap’s head again to look at the gash. “Helluva hit, fellas.”

“Thanks.” Both Soap and Alejandro said, the Colonel laughed.

“Didn’t mean to hitcha that hard, hermano.” Soap mumbled as you moved to Alejandro, instructing him the same way. Look at my nose, follow my finger - his coffee like eyes were sinkholes, he did as you told him. If you had taken a moment to set back, you would’ve said that he was your new version of Rooster. A Special Op Limited Edition, with better maintained hair and great jawline.

If you weren’t so enraptured by Simon, you would’ve dove for Alejandro the second he gave you any sort of glare. But no, you’d choose your ice cold boyfriend over a cowboy casanova. Maybe in another life.

You moved the Colonel’s head towards you. It was a thin cut on his forehead, jagged but nothing a small bandage can’t fix. You turned around, peeling off your gloves before grabbing your phone. You opened it, amazed at how many texts Rooster had sent.

ROOS: Please don’t ignore me right now I will get Ice on the phone this instant

ROOS: I mean it

ROOS: Sorry you’re probably busy

ROOS: Just stay safe please.

ROOS: I can’t have a repeat of that shit .I’ll lose my mind

ROOS: Call me when you’re free

ROOS: Please

ROOS: I really don’t want to have to go detective on you and show up at your doorstep like a dog

ROOS: Cause I will

ROOS: You’re worrying me, please don’t make me have to call Mav. If I have to call Mav you will never hear the end of it I SWEAR IT. YOU’LL HEAR ABOUT IT UNTIL YOU’RE DEAD

YOU: I’m working, I’ll text you later

“Dramatic bitch,” You mumbled to yourself before turning your phone off. You moved across the room to your sink. You began to wash your hands as Cerberus poked you with his nose. You glanced down at him. “Go play with Dumb and Dumber, buddy. I’ll be a minute.”

The dog whined, pawing at your leg and poking you with his snout again. He wasn’t alerting, he was trying to get your attention. A search and rescue dog like Cerberus had no job right now since he was on base, except to sometimes get in your way. You gave him a sharp glare. “Now.”

Cerberus let out a loud whine of annoyance before he huffed, walking away towards Alejandro.

“Don’t have to be mean to the poor dog, lass.” Soap commented, you shot him a glare when you dried your hands with a paper towel. He threw his hands up.

“He knows I’ve got stuff going on, he likes to be bothersome.” You pulled on new gloves and grabbed the equipment you needed, moving your chair over to the cot with your foot. You sat down gracelessly, setting bandages and hydrogen peroxide on your lap. You pulled a cotton swab from your vest, opening it and then dousing it in the peroxide.

You took Soap’s head in your hand and moved it again, letting the light shine into it as you dabbed on the peroxide - the man flinched.

“You’re usually chatty, hermana - what’s wrong?”

You glanced at Alejandro, tossing the swab into the garage can behind you. “Friend texted me. Chatted for a while.”

“You not like her or somethin’?” Soap asked, you settled the small adhesive bandage over his injury, sticking it to his shaved head with firm pressure. “You mind not pressin’ that hard?”

You smirked, waving him off. “You’re done.” The Sergeant smiled and stood, walking away from the cot while you faced Alejandro. “Bit of an argument, nothin’ new. Happens when you’ve known them your whole life.”

“Oh?” Alejandro smiled. “Like me and Rudy.”

You shrugged. “When I say my whole life, I mean as soon as I was brought home, I had a best friend.”

“Ah, not like me and Rudy.” He chuckled then, you cleaned the wound with another cotton swab and some peroxide - he didn’t even react.

“Not even close. I didn’t get a choice.” You threw away the swab, opening another bandage.

“You always have a choice in the people you keep company with.” Alejandro closed his eyes as you opened the bandage.

“Not when you’ve both put your lives on the line for each other without question, like I would all of you.” You mumbled, securing the bandage a lot softer than Soap. “Maybe not to the length I would for Roos, but it might be near it.”

“Roos?” Soap echoed, suddenly right next to you as you turned the opposite way to toss the trash into the bin.

“Nickname.” You shrugged, pulling off your gloves and standing. You gestured to the door. “You can leave now, just take some Tylenol if the pain persists.”

Cerberus whined as Alejandro stood, saying a quick farewell as he darted out the door - Soap lingered as you pushed your chair back to your desk. “You’re always so mean.”

“It’s,” You glanced at the digital clock on your desk. “almost eleven. I might just want to go get something to eat,” You sat down, throwing your feet up on your desk as you glared at the Scot. “Maybe I want to sit in silence like I was for the past five hours.”

“Aww, lass, you just wanna get railed by-“

“That’ll do.” Ghost’s voice boomed, making you jump a little as Soap whipped his head to look at his Lieutenant.

Cerberus found his way to you again, pawing at your leg. You reached forwards and scratched behind his ear as you watched Soap and Ghost have a small stare down. Soap backed down after a few seconds, glancing at you and then Ghost. “I’m going to take my leave.”

“As you should.” Ghost’s voice was low, both of you watched as he scurried out of the room, almost slamming the door behind him. You looked to Ghost, who visibly decompressed as he moved towards your cot in sluggish motions. He collapsed onto it, the cot let out a groan under his weight and his mask went straight into the white pillow you kept at the head of it.

You cocked your head to one side. “You hurt too?”

“No.” His voice was muffled.

“You’re just gonna sleep in here?”

“Yup.”

“Well,” You grabbed your phone again, hand leaving Cerberus as you pointed to Ghost. “Go lay down with Dad.”

The German Shepherd would never not take the opportunity to jump onto Ghost, even in a position like that. The dog sprinted the two feet away and jumped onto the Lieutenant’s back, he groaned loudly in pain. Cerberus’s tail wagged with a quick pace as he laid his head on Ghost’s shoulder blades. You quickly took a picture of it before sending it to Rooster.

YOU: oh no! my guard dog killed my guard dog :(

ROOS: THAT MAN IS HUGE .

YOU: Thanks! he’s mine :)

ROOS: I CANT KILL A MAN THAT BIG

YOU: Won’t need to. Pretty sure he’d die before he even raised his voice to me he’d be so ashamed.

YOU: I love him.

ROOS: you have got to stop having boyfriends. my heart can’t take it

YOU: You’re a clingy bitch.

ROOS: well at least someone cares for your well-being 🤍

YOU: My boyfriend does.

ROOS: Don’t fucking say that shit. I’m not getting traumatized again cause that guy is not a man, he is 100% a demon

YOU: LMAO

ROOS: HOW IS HE SO BIG

YOU: Idk. Go to bed idiot

ROOS: Fuck off

YOU: Love you too, clingy bitch.

ROOS: You’re a bitch too

YOU: All day, everyday.

“You’re not paying attention to me.”

You looked up from your phone, seeing now that he moved his head to look at you. Cerberus’s head rested where his nose settled right next to where Ghost’s ear would be. You put your phone down on your desk, putting your feet on the floor as you gazed at him. “I have never heard you say that before.”

“Maybe fuckin’ you would put your attention back on me.”

You rolled your eyes, setting back in your seat. “You’ll always have my attention. I’ve got to keep Roos updated before I get a search party sent on my ass.”

“Sounds clingy.” He murmured, you could barely see as his eyes closed.

“Sounds like what you would do if I didn’t answer your text right away.” You commented, looking at the files you had stared at all morning before stretching your arms above your head. “I’m probably gonna take a half day.”

Ghost hummed from the cot, Cerberus whined from above him. “Take the mutt with you.”

“Always.”

The man moved his body, making Cerberus jump from his back - Ghost groaned in pain. He rolled over like an oaf, since he was bigger than the cot itself. You smiled at him as he looked back to you. “C’mon.”

It was often that he would waltz into your office unannounced and collapse onto your cot, beckoning you to come lay on him. And you did, every time. You gracelessly climbed onto him, settling your head under his chin and stretching your legs out over his.

“You didn’t sleep last night.”

Your sort-of-happy mood completely fizzled out like a flame doused in water. You could’ve sworn he was asleep when you slipped out of bed and into the bathroom, holding yourself in the bathtub until you felt like you could breathe again.

“Where’d do go?”

“Tub.” You murmured, hand crawling up his side and settling on his shoulder. “Had a bad nightmare.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I can’t tell you about it.” You spoke immediately, the phantom feeling of flames licking your skin made you bury your face into his clothed neck. “Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Well, uh…” His gloved hand went to your hair, petting you gently. “You know where I am.”

“Not really, not all the time.” You whispered, hand clutching his sleeve.

He huffed out a humorless laugh. “I guess not.”

“Is this your way of trying to make it up to me?”

He stilled a little, it wouldn’t be noticeable if you weren’t laying on his entire body. You drank in the fading smell of his musky cologne he wore sometimes, pressing the top of your head into the bottom of his jaw.

“It’s hard.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know how to.”

You moved your head up, raising it so you could see his eyes. “At least you’re trying.” You leaned forwards and kissed his cheek, then rolled off of him with a groan. “Alright, I’m going home. Need my key?”

He shrugged as you walked over to your small rucksack, checking what you had in it. “No, got the spare. I’ll lock up when I’m done.”

You looked over your shoulder him, seeing his arm over his eyes. You shook your head before grabbing Cerberus’a leash from your desk and walking back to him. You placed a kiss on the exposed skin of his arm and spoke, “I’ll see you at home.”

“Mmhmm.”

_________________

Simon always made you take the car, the nice SUV he bought for himself yet will not drive - always makes up an excuse to have you drive, and you were grateful. You weren’t even sure he had a driver’s license, let alone any knowledge of driving. He was always keen to walk home anyway.

Cerby dove into the apartment as soon as you opened the door, he immediately sprinted his way to the living room. It wasn’t long before you heard a couple of glass bottles hit the rug and you groaned.

“Cerby, come here.” You called, dropping your rucksack on the floor and shutting the door behind you. You would have taken your boots off, but you had no idea what he had knocked over in the living room. You walked into it, seeing that your dog laid on the couch, tongue hanging out from his mouth and his ears perked. You rolled your eyes, looking down at the rug. There was three empty bottles of the bourbon you knew was Simon’s favorite, your eyebrows furrowed. You kneeled, taking a bottle in one hand and seeing how there was no alcohol left in it. Placing it on the table, you pulled the two other bottles onto the table before noticing a small folded piece of paper under where the bottles had lied.

A knot in your stomach began to tug as you grasped the piece of paper, pulling the piece of paper open and recognizing Simon’s handwriting.

My love,

I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to say it but, I do trust you. I trust you a whole hell of a lot.

But what we have isn’t worth the pain, I am not worth the pain. If you wanted me to leave, I would. No one has stuck around this long anyway, you won’t hurt me.

But I hate that I’m hurting you. I think the best choice is for me to leave. I’ll always be here for you, you have my number. I’ll send you where I’ll be. I’d rather you be happy without me than miserable with me.

I love you.

That felt like a punch to the gut.

It felt like a knife wedged in between two of your ribs, digging and twisting.

No one has stuck around this long anyway.

Is this the pain he felt, waiting for you? Drowning in his sorrows, going to leave you to save you pain? It made a part of you angry, yet all of you felt ashamed. You had hurt him too.

But he hadn’t left. He had to have written it before you came home because he did not spend one moment without you since you arrived home.

It hurt your heart that he thought his best decision was to run. It hurt to know that he probably felt scared, that he ducked back into that dark place in his head. He was drunk last night, he might not even remember himself writing it - but in case he did, you folded the note again. You placed it on the floor, placing the empty bottles how they were after Cerberus made them fall. You stood, feeling as if you had held a gun to Simon’s heart and pulled the trigger.

Even as you walked back towards your bathroom to shower, you could still feel the gunpowder residue on your hands.

———————

(comment for part 4! it will get better from here, i promise (aka more fucking angst HAHHA))

taglist! (some i wasn’t able to tag, i’m sorry!)

@luhvbot @its-me-ya-boi-lisa @ladystarfishnut @chris3tom2pau1rdj @kat-nee @efsa-lks @angelsquidd @marytvirgin @medivalpersephone @ramadiiiisme @blueoorchid @guiltyconfessions @abbiesxox @lockleywife @nicomactavish @nose235678 @lumpypoll @multi-fandomlovers-world @holyfeck @thriving-n-jiving @kgive @simonsdoll @crazyfandomist @ryunniez @sofasoap @depressedacidtest @angelinathron @dindjarinsbby @kluhhsu @lazyperfectioniste @keiva1000 @jellyedkazoo @le0thely0n @1sam1 @lovecats123451 @erensonly @cielobgers @sunniiiiiiiiii @d1lf-luvr @thekuroinsomething @lake-145 @badpvn @guineapigzwei @qualitypudding @mariamorim28 @s0meth1ngs-n0t-r1ght @doodle-cat16 @5seastar @horniestbutterfly

#simon ghost riley cod #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x afab!reader #simon ghost riley x fem!reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley call of duty #simon riley cod #simon riley #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x you #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x fem!reader #simon riley x afab!reader #simon riley x reader

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bratshaws · 1 year ago

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through the hourglass 276. brb x oc

a/n: apologies for the short chapter. I'm s i c k SO KACNKWJNDKJ (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

/253/254/255/256/257/258/259/260/261/262/263/264/265/266

/267/268/269/270/271/272/273/274/275

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix @lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @louisahale @leobabbyyy @booklover2sblog @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

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As Beatrice lay in the dark room, the pounding in her head seemed unrelenting. It was as if a relentless drumbeat was playing in her skull, and she longed for some respite. The cozy cocoon of her blankets provided some comfort, but the pain was persistent.

Downstairs, the voices of her brothers and Rooster were a distant hum. Beatrice tried to listen in but found it difficult to concentrate. She strained her ears, wondering if their conversation would shed light on how Rooster's day at the base had gone. It was one of the small pleasures she looked forward to, hearing about his day and how everyone was too.

She heard Michael's booming laughter and imagined him regaling Rooster with one of his outlandish stories. Michael's voice was always a force of nature, capable of filling any room with mirth and energy.

Leonardo's voice, on the other hand, was mellower and more measured. Beatrice knew he was the one who often offered advice and a calming influence to the group. She appreciated how he could balance out Michael's over-the-top enthusiasm.

Guillermo had a deep, resonant voice that carried wisdom and authority even when he wasn’t planning to. She often joked that his voice vibrated the walls every time.

Despite the warmth coming from downstairs, Beatrice couldn't shake her migraine. She'd tried to rest and hoped that the pain would subside, but it remained stubborn. The darkness of the room was her only solace, shielding her eyes from the piercing light that often exacerbated her condition.

She covers her head with the blanket, the fabric muffling the voices downstairs and making it hard for her to understand - even more - what was being said. She does however, feel footsteps walking past her bedroom to Nicole’s nursery then go back to their door. A gentle creak as it opened and a voice, a voice she adored, spoke, “Baby?’ Rooster calls, “You alright?”

With a soft sigh, Beatrice slowly pushed the blanket away from her face. The relief from the darkness was immediate, and the throbbing in her head seemed to lessen just a tiny bit. She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the soft light filtering through the curtains. Then, she whispered, "I'm here, Roos. Just a little headache."

The doorknob turned, and Rooster entered the room. His face lit up with concern as he approached the bed. "Baby, your brothers said you’ve been resting here for a while. Are you sure you're okay?"

She offered a reassuring smile, though her eyes still held traces of discomfort. "I'm sure, Roos. It's just a minor headache, probably from the long day. I’m okay.”

Rooster bent down to press a gentle kiss on her forehead before taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "You are kinda warm, you had any meds?"

"I took something earlier, Roos, but it hasn't really kicked in yet. I'll be fine, though."

Rooster leaned closer, brushing a lock of hair away from her face with his fingers. "I hate seeing you in pain, Bea. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

She placed her hand on his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Your presence is already making me feel better, Roos. Just being with you helps ease the discomfort."

Rooster's lips curled into a gentle smile as he continued to caress her hair. "I'm glad I could provide some comfort, baby. You know, I don't like it when you're not feeling your best. I wish I could take your pain away."

Beatrice's eyes locked onto Rooster's, her cheeks turning red and her cheek pressed tighter to his hand "I know you do, Roos, and I appreciate it more than words can express. But it’s okay."

Rooster leaned in to place a soft kiss on her lips. When he pulled away, he spoke in a hushed, caring tone. "You sure you don’t need anything?"

She sighs softly, falling back on the bed, “I’m sure…I think I might just nap a little bit more…I dunno if I can go to the Hard Deck tonight.” she mutters, feeling a bit disappointed when she said that, playing with her hands on the blanket, “Can you…call Penny and let her know?”

He nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and then smiling at her face, “Even sick you are beautiful. That’s not fair.” he says, then brings her hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles, “Your brothers took good care of you,hm?”

She nestled into the bed a bit more comfortably, feeling the soft fabric of the blanket against her skin. "Thank you, Roos. And yes, my brothers have been looking out for me. They're the best." she pauses, “When they don’t go all overprotective over me.”

Rooster chuckled softly, his eyes filled with affection. "I'm glad they're here to take care of you, Bea. You're so precious to me, and knowing that you're in good hands eases my mind."

“How romantic,LC.” she whispers, fluttering her eyes, “Are they still here?”

“Yeah.”

“Mkay…” her eyes fall shut but she forces them open again, “Are you…how was…your day? Was it good?”

"It was a typical day on the base, baby. I had my usual meetings, pre-deployment preparations, and flight exercises. Nothing out of the ordinary, really." he didn’t feel like sharing that he and Mark talked.

Not now.

“Kay…” she whispers, letting her eyes fall shut, “I’m going…to sleep a bit more,alright?” and she doesn’t wait for him to reply, she just allows her body to relax and her breathing to go completely even.

Rooster observed her as she drifted into slumber, he couldn't help but feel a touch of helplessness seeing her in pain, but he knew that being there for her, even if it meant just keeping her company, was the best he could do. He gently placed a tender kiss on her forehead and whispered softly, "Rest well, gorgeous."

After some time, he carefully extricated himself from the bed, being sure not to wake Beatrice. He rose to his feet and tucked her in a bit more, ensuring she was comfortable. He gazed at his sleeping wife, smiled and then walked out of the room.

His brothers in law were still downstairs and Michael had Nicole on his shoulders - the toddler nomming his hair and he didn’t care one bit - “Hey,” he says, ‘How’s she?”

Rooster pursed his lips and walked up to Michael, gently picking Nicole from his head and letting her hug his neck, “She’s tired, sleeping again. This migraine really hit her hard…she didn’t, you know, throw up or anything,right?”

Guillermo shook his head, “No, she mainly slept and had lunch, then went back to sleep.’ he crosses his arms over his huge chest, “She needs to rest and heal.”

Rooster held Nicole close, his daughter's small body wrapped in his arms. He pressed a soft kiss to her tiny hand, smiling at the way she just touched his face. "Thanks, guys," he said to his brothers-in-law, "She's still in pain, and I hate seeing her like this. But she's resting now, and I'm glad for that. Just hoping she gets better soon."

Leonardo added, "Don't worry, Rooster. She'll bounce back in no time."

He smiled then glanced at the clock on the wall. "I need to run out and grab some more pain relief medication for Bea. She's running low."

Guillermo nodded, understanding the urgency. "You go ahead, Roos. We'll watch over Nicole and make sure Beatrice gets some peace and quiet." he nods, “Don’t worry.”

“Thanks guys,I,” he looks down at his uniform, ‘I should change first,I just got back from the base after all.” he frowns, thinking that he should just go to the laundry room and get stuff there instead of going back to their bedroom so he wouldn’t wake Beatrice up.

The grocery store wasn’t packed, which was shocking considering this was the middle of the week and the Halloween decorations were already out. “Jesus,it’s july.” he mutters to himself, pushing the shopping cart forward as he wandered about the aisles.

Beatrice’s meds were the first thing he got and now he was finding something to pamper her with. Maybe some flowers, some candy. He checks the packets for a little while then puts it back, “Cherry flavored stuff, I need cherry flavored stuff.”

As he strolled along the shelves, his mind was focused on finding the perfect treats for his wife. Cherry-flavored sweets were her favorite, and he was determined to indulge her. His eyes scanned the various candies, searching for the perfect cherry-flavored delights.

A few minutes of scrutinizing the options, Rooster finally settled on a mix of cherry-flavored candies. There were cherry-flavored hard candies, chewy gummies, and even some cherry-flavored chocolates. He couldn't wait to see the smile on Beatrice's face when he surprised her with the sweet treats.

With the candies safely in his cart, Rooster decided to move on to the next item on his list: flowers. He knew that Beatrice loved fresh flowers, and he wanted to pick out a beautiful bouquet for her. The floral section of the store beckoned to him, a vibrant splash of colors and fragrances.

Rooster perused the selection of flowers, carefully considering which ones would brighten up their home and make Beatrice's day even more special. He spotted a lovely arrangement of red and pink roses, their petals velvety and inviting. It seemed like a perfect choice – romantic and beautiful, just like his wife.

As he picked up the bouquet of roses and held it in his hands, Rooster couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. He imagined Beatrice's delight when she saw the beautiful flowers and the cherry-flavored candies.

“Those are lovely flowers.”

He stares at nothing when he hears the voice, then he inhales for courage, “...Miranda.” he strains his smile, turning to look at her. “...hi…”

Miranda’s cart was full, almost exploding with things and she smirked at him, ‘Those are for Beatrice,” she gave him no time to reply, “Oh I always thought she’d be more of a lily type of girl, interesting that you chose roses.”

Was she going to always be this passive aggressive???

Rooster had to gather his composure quickly. Her presence never failed to put him on edge, but he knew he needed to keep a polite facade, especially since they were having a conversation in public.

He cleared his throat, offering a strained smile. "Yes, these are for Beatrice. She loves roses." Rooster didn't want to delve into the specifics of Beatrice's flower preferences with Miranda, nor did he feel the need to justify his choice.

Miranda raised an eyebrow, her expression giving nothing away. "Roses it is, then. I suppose everyone has their own taste when it comes to flowers."

Rooster felt a surge of irritation at her thinly veiled condescension, but he managed to maintain his politeness. "Yeeeep. "

Miranda glanced at the assortment of cherry-flavored candies in his cart. "I see you're also indulging Beatrice's sweet tooth."

Rooster decided to take the high road, not wanting to engage in any passive-aggressive exchange with Miranda. "Of course, it's a little treat to make her day special."

Miranda seemed to be enjoying the interaction, her tone light and teasing. "Well, it's essential to keep the spark alive in a relationship, isn't it?"

Rooster maintained his polite demeanor, although it was clear he was growing tired of the conversation. "Absolutely.”

Miranda tilted her head, looking thoughtful. "Speaking of romance, how are you and Beatrice enjoying your time together before your deployment?"

Rooster's irritation flared up. He wasn't comfortable discussing the intimate details of his relationship with Miranda, and he didn't appreciate her prying into his personal life. Still, he kept his tone even. "We're savoring every moment together, making the most of our time before I leave."

Miranda seemed pleased with herself, her eyes glittering with a hint of satisfaction. "That's wonderful. Oh I know I have such a hard time when Mark leaves, oh,” she shakes her head, “It’s so hard sometimes.” but something in her words felt…so off. So off.

"Deployments can be tough," he agreed, keeping his response general. "But they're also part of the job."

Miranda nodded, her expression seemingly empathetic. "Yes, it's a necessary sacrifice isn't it?"

‘...yes.”

“Oh, by the way,” she flicks her hand, ‘If Beatrice feels lonely these days when you are gone, do tell her to come over. I’d love some company.”

Doubtful.

Rooster couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Miranda's offer. It felt odd to him that she was being so friendly and seemingly understanding. After their previous encounters, this sudden change in tone was difficult to trust. "I'll keep that in mind."

Miranda smiled sweetly, her tone continuing to radiate artificial warmth. "Of course, anything to help a friend in need."

The whole conversation was becoming more uncomfortable by the second. Rooster found himself itching to change the subject, to move away from this unsettling exchange. And his lips raised up in a way that could only be translated as ‘cringe’ "Well, I uh…appreciate your concern, Miranda. We're just taking it one day at a time."

Miranda nodded, her gaze lingering on Rooster. "That's the best way to go about it, Bradley. I hope you both enjoy your time together." With that, she turned and continued down the aisle.

Rooster watched her for a moment, his irritation simmering just beneath the surface. He wasn't sure what had prompted Miranda's sudden shift in behavior, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.

And to meet her here? When he was shopping?

Also, why was she so bothered if he was buying his wife cherry flavored candy? That’s not her problem, “Fuckin’ weird woman.” he mutters to himself, watching her place even more stuff in her cart from a distance.

Rooster pushed his cart down the aisle, his focus returning to the task at hand – finding the items on their shopping list. He had a wife to pamper and he still wasn’t done.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader #tgm oc #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

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fibrielsolaer · 2 years ago

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Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey

I came back to Tumblr to talk about this... Sigh.

I haven't sat down to watch this movie myself and don't intend to, but it appears to be a really bad, shlocky, low-budget gorn movie that capitalizes on mascot horror (specifically, Five Nights at Freddy's) with the added appeal of not having to pay anyone any royalties.

The director claims he's received death threats over the matter. I should remind everybody that the modern generation has a severe mental health crisis. They're psychopaths who can't get the treatment they need because, even if they wanted it, the US in particular refuses to let them have it.

Only Winnie and Piglet (and Eeyore's tail) appear in live-action form - they're both fat guys in goofy Halloween masks, they look like Leatherface, and some cuts of Winnie resemble Bulk Bogan's initial Oblooblivion face. If you have no idea who Bulk Bogan is or why I spelled that Oblooblivion you should really start watching better things than Winnie-the-Pooh horror movies.

Rabbit, Owl, and Eeyore appear in the intro, which is hand-animated in a crude parody of Milne's illustrations, but not in live action form. Kanga and Roo are completely absent, and Tigger will not be in public domain until 2024 so he's not present either.

For some reason, the movie really needs Winnie and Piglet to just not talk. The excuse for this is that after Christopher Robin first met the group (who were actual living things and not imaginary), he grew up and left for college.

Now, in Disney's Pooh's Grand Adventure: The Search For Christopher Robin (pictured), the incredibly stupid animals were terrified that Christopher Robin was seemingly abducted by "Skull" (i.e. school, they can't read) and went through what would be a horror experience for a four-year-old but everything worked out fine in the end.

In this version, unable to take care of themselves, they ate Eeyore because of course they ate Eeyore and were so disgusted with themselves for doing this that they vowed to return to animalism, never speaking again, and also killing every human being they saw, especially Christopher Robin.

The only thing either of them says is "You left..." from Winnie after Christopher offers to stay with them to stop them from killing people.

Like so many other trashy "be disgusted!!" slasher movies, one of the ladies gets her boobers exposed before she gets her face took off and is tossed in a wood chipper. Many viewers are confused why this happens; it's because slasher films rely on disgust and frequently use sex, misogyny, or x-phobia as a source of it. Murdering attractive, usually-nude women in barbaric ways is a punishment for thinking the female body is beautiful. The viewer is meant to suffer dissonance in whether they find female flesh appealing or disgusting. It's an outrageous and therefore disgusting portrayal of women as hunks of meat to lust after and/or murder and/or turn into hot dogs.

Winnie is also capable of blasting people's faces and limbs off with stiff-jointed kung fu like some sort of tubby honey-covered Kenshiro, but likes to eviscerate people with knives anyway.

Despite being incredibly short, the movie feels exhaustingly long due to stretching out its lackluster tension and violent torture-porn scenes as much as possible.

To cap this off, here's a gem of a quote from Christopher Robin after the first kill in the movie:

Winnie! You've got to help me! I think something's wrong with Piglet. He just killed my wife!

I can't wait for the sequel (yes they're already planning one) where Kanga will probably melt somebody's face off with acid-milk from her kangaroo-tits and Roo will scratch out a gravelly LoOk wHaT I CaN DoOo... while shoving a bike pump up somebody's ass and making them explode. They're trying to make a whole series, fuck it's like Leprechaun all over again except without Warwick Davis to carry the movie.

If you'll excuse me, I'm going to fly back out of my art slump with Elae Meltaea's versions of the Winnie the Pooh cast. You might still find them rather tasteless, but at least they'll be pretty to look at. Especially Kanga. Hubba bubba!

#winnie-the-pooh #winnie the pooh #blood and honey #winnie the pooh: blood and honey #horror #horror movies #horror films #slasher #slasher movies #slasher films

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obviouslyinvisible · 8 months ago

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tagged by @keemitthefeog to do the 5 songs ive been listening to on repeat ! : D (love your selection especially wire by worthikids that song goes so hard for no reason).

Anyways ! I haven't had too much variation lately alot of ' put something repetitive but funky on while I animate ':

1. 'HOT TO GO' by Chapell Roan (I'm late to the party when it comes to listening to her but she's so goodddd)

2.'When I was done dying' by Dan Deacon (found this entirely on a whim and it scratches an itch in my head plus the story it tells is just very fun depiction of a weird afterlife /judgement)

3. 'Erica Western Teleport' by Emperor X (this is like the one yearning song I put on every oc playlist I've ever made love a good whiny sung chorus ha)

4. ' No one left to love' from the Alan wake soundtrack by ROOS+BERG (the Saga Anderson anthem and I just love the heavy drums at 3:19 onwards that sound kinda firework-y)

5. ' Skulls' by Bastille (went back to my old obsessions with this one cause it fit an oc perfectlyy and I saw some art with bad blood lyrics and went OH SHIT that whole album slapped let me relisten real quick.)

Thanks again for the tag! Tagging specifically (no pressure though if you're not into these sorta posts ♥️) @grasslandgirl @picrossingguard and @shadoe-song

I'm gonna also just say if you see this post yes you I'm tagging you in too if you want to ramble about songs but haven't been tagged, lemme see your song recs and ones stuck in your head : )

#song recs #tag game

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widowsofchaos · 5 years ago

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The Wolf, The Widow, & Their Angel

Writing’s Game created by the baddest, Roo! @darkficsyouneveraskedfor *screams like a feral banshee* tHe BaDDesT BiTcH sHE iS!

~my given prompt~

Pairing: dark!BuckyNat x black!Reader

Summary: You start to dissociate looking through windows, and it concerns your captors.

Warnings: ddlg relationship, forced age regression, mentions of spanking, water sports, and kidnapping, eventual Stockholm syndrome. a dash of yandere behavior.

a/n: hiii, so glad im finally into the swing of writing, and I really wanted to dive into this writing challenge made by Roo! Trope: Snowed In // Item/Location: Windows. Seems really fun, and gives a chance for people to explore different kinks and scenarios given to them! So I hope you enjoy! There has been things changed for sake of the story, like cause fuck canon sometimes, right? Muahaha💋

do not repost my works!

Snowflakes hit against the windows, sounding like tiny BB bullets as the bellowing winds harshly beats against the bullet-proof glass.

Ever-growing thick piles of snow surrounded the Avengers compound, as New York City is under attack by one of the worst snow-storms the city has ever endured in years.

Airports are temporarily shut-down, so are local businesses, the streets deserted with no sign of life. Nature’s cold wrath forces citizens to self-quarantine, and celebrate Christmas indoors, snowed in for perhaps a few weeks.

So much for your grand escape.

Six months you have been held captive, and forced to prance around like a living doll. A toy to satiate your captors’ sexual appetites and deep-rooted needs to protect ‘an innocent angel like yourself.’ As you sit here on the cold floor of the living room, battling boredom, and your solemn thoughts, mindlessly chewing on the pink paci in your mouth, you didn’t hear one of your captors and one of their accomplices walk in.

Fidgeting in your white onesie that had multiple crayon drawn rainbows printed on it, as you try to find some comfort - your buttocks still stung from this morning’s spanking. Your coco-brown buttocks peaking from your onesie, your diaper peaking from the edges, deep purple and yellow bruises painting your skin were apparent. That’s the abuse a metal prosthetic can inflict.

Your bronze skin now shiny with lotion to soothe the burgundy raw welts. You can barely sit still, rocking back and forth to relieve some tension. Sniffling trying to zone out in your mind.

Your hair was in two split curly pigtails, each split of massive hair clipped with two pink bows. Your index finger twirling in your chocolate curls, as the other hand was toying with the fabric of your white booties, with tears in your eyes, trying to imagine time spent with your real family.

Are they okay? Do they miss you? Have they been searching for you?

You can still recall the day you were kidnapped, it was a blur, it was so quick,

As the two perpetrators waltz silently towards you, as your back facing them, suddenly one of them playfully pull on your pigtails.You gasp, your eyes wide as saucers, as your mouth opened, your paci fell on your lap. Your day-dreaming shattered, as if you were high in the clouds then held by the calf and dragged right back to reality.

“Hey baby.” A husky velvety voice spoke against your ear, your heart hammering harshly against your chest. It’s him, the former Winter Soldier, his close companions call him Bucky, but you’re forced to call him daddy.

“Uncle Steve told me that you have been sitting here for hours” he brought his thumb to wipe away a tear you didn’t realize began to fall. You glanced over your shoulder to see Steve standing by the door-way smiling adoringly at the sight of a daddy and his baby, leaning against the door frame, with his strong hands stuffed in his jean pockets.

You felt menacing cerulean blue eyes burn a hole in your skull, Bucky couldn’t pull his eyes away from yours even if he tried. To him, you were perfect. You were a gift from God, an angel sent to ease his burdens along side his wife, Natasha. You couldn’t bare looking into his eyes, too intense, too suffocating. A flash of affection beamed across his eyes.

You whined, shuffling as best as you could away from your captor, “Baby, you dropped your paci.” Bucky plucked your pacificer from the floor, bringing towards your chapped lips, “Now it’s dirty, my sweet baby can’t have a dirty paci ...” he trailed off, the rims of your eyes slightly red, glossy from the forthcoming droplets.

He knows why you’ve been crying, he had to punish you this morning. You were trying to act like a big girl, and refused to be bathed, insisting you can clean yourself as an adult.

A smirk slowly crept on Bucky’s bearded face, he noticed you was leaning forward, preventing any bodily pressure to increase on your sore ass. “Is my baby’s cute ass sore?” His nose brushed against your cheek, a guttural moan vibrated in his throat, inhaling your scent; his hot breath fanning over your tear-stained face.

His pink lips hairs away from yours, growing agitated that you didn’t respond, he gripped one of your pigtails with his flesh hand.

You yelped in pain, your button nose scrunched, brows furrowed deeply; the prickly pins and needles sensation scorching throughout your scalp, as Bucky held your hair in a death clutch. “Answer your daddy! Is my baby’s cute ass sore?!” Bucky snarls like a beast.

You choked back a sob, forced to look into his cerulean blue eyes, clouded by grey storm clouds. His pupils dilated, his nose flared, not to further infuriate the former soldier, “Ye-yes, daddy -” your throat tightened in fear, “my butt is sore.” Satisfied that you answered sweetly, Bucky relinquished his hand, kissing away your tears with feathery pecks, “Don’t cry, my angel.” His voice lowered softly.

His stubble tickled you, but you resisted a chuckle in your throat along with your untamed bile, he shushed you, “Don’t cry, baby. Daddy’s sorry he had to get loud.” Bucky cooed, talking to you like you were a toddler.

Your sobs quieted down, now simmering to hiccups, as he pulled you flushed against his broad chest. Even when he cradled you, his physicality reminded you, that you can’t escape.

Bucky is at least, two hundred pounds lean, built into massive biceps, and sculpted abs. You can’t fight him, nor her. Natasha’s physique is slender, but she’s toned.

Enquiped to defeat any enemy, a master in trickery and slealth, able to disappear within thin air like her husband ... many have fallen for sadly mistaken the Russian for beauty over brains ... don’t underestimate the former assassin. You already learned your lesson.

Your delicate fingers gripped his red Henley shirt, the cotton fiber bunching between your brown fingers, as you whimpered, your cheek squished against his frame.

Bucky sported a smug smirk on his stubbled jaw, glancing to his oldest best friend. A chuckle was breathed out of Steve’s nose, knowing the breaking down method was slowly progressing.

Steve knows that this is what Bucky, and Natasha needs in their life. Something innocent to protect, the couple hasn’t had a pure light in their life for years, so it’s understandable that for the first time they encountered you, they had to have you.

It was fate.

Indeed the meticulous harsh punishments was working. No matter how hard you tried to fight back, and resist the urges to succumb to their sexual pleasures, your mind was betraying you.

There has been moments of your compliance, calling everyone by their designated names. Natasha as your mommy, Bucky as your daddy, and the rest of the Avengers as your uncles and aunt. Letting your uncles and aunt baby you, feed you, play with you, and punish you if needed too.

Let’s just say, the punishments were just as equally barbarous. Wall-seats, harsh spanking, knees on raw rice, gas lighting, slight choking, knees resting on raw rice, electrical nipple clamps as your head will be dunked in water, that’s Bucky’s go-to if his patience runs dry.

And a few slaps here and there if you cuss everybody out.

Natasha’s favorite is clit cream, it causes severe itching on your pussy, you would rub your mound on any solid surface to relieve yourself to the point of your vagina being raw, and irritated.

How does the sadistic couple help the itching and burning stop? Take turns squirting their piss directly on your clit.

Shame and humiliation has become your constant demons.

Bucky’s red shirt had a strong but subtle smell of mint, and oak. You rubbed your nose into the shirt, it’s calming your frightened senses, as numerous flashbacks of pain came flooding your shattered mind.

“Awh my baby, loves holding her daddy.” Bucky spoke into your brushed curls, you didn’t realize you were practically clinging to Bucky like a baby kola. Bucky nuzzled his nose into your curls, his eyes closed, relishing in this rare moment.

Bucky’s strong biceps slithered around your petite waist, you involuntarily clutching your arms around his neck for support. His open palms calmly rubbed circles under your thighs, but close to your painful bruises.

You flinch at the close proximity of his fingertips grazing your abused flesh. It was his reminder of how quickly his temper can switch.

Don’t misbehave.

You prefer to seek his approval, to fall on his good graces.

“D-daddy?” you crooked into his now tear-stained shirt, the dampened spots now a deeper shade of red, you sniffled, scared to look him in the eye, “Yes baby?” Bucky’s smirked.

“I wanna look at the windows more. The snowflakes are pretty.” You hated how your voice was trembling, and trailing into little space.

You’re conversing with Bucky as if you were a toddler. One discovery you stumbled on during this ordeal is that deep inside the crevasse of your mind, there’s a little girl.

Sub-space, or little space ... you knew you had it, which in turn, helped you adapt to your new environment from time to time. Catching yourself enjoying being pampered, no longer being burdened by of the problems that come with being an adult. No longer do you work, you hated your office job. You gracefully fall into a space of hazy clouds.

Bucky’s brows furrowed, a bit befuddled, as his eyes pleaded with Steve’s, who in return shook his head, no.

Steve brought this new found habit of yours up to Bucky and Natasha earlier, whenever you were punished, you hide away to look out the windows.

Steve realized that you were probably dissociating. That worried everybody, it means you were suffering from not accepting your new life, clinging onto your old one, and if you’re in pain, Bucky and Natasha are in pain.

You’re more than their little girl, you’re their missing third. Their companion, their angel, and even if you rebuke it, your best friends. Many occurrences, Nat and Bucky has confided to you about their dark pasts, revealing secrets not even their close team mates are aware of.

To gain your trust, and your sympathy, to show despite their cruel punishments, they are broken humans emotionally dependent on you. In any bond between lovers, that’s your best friend.

Out of love — tough love, but love nonetheless.

Bucky’s lip formed into a thin-line, “No, baby. Uncle Steve told me you do this a lot, you know he’s worried about you? So is everybody else, you haven’t even eaten since this morning” Bucky’s voice got stern, but it was contrast to his facial features softening. His brows now slanted in-ward, demonstrating his distress.

It’s the truth, you’re co-dependent on bullet-proof glass. You can observe the outside world. It helps you escape to your imaginary getaway. Whatever your heart desires, your brain creates unabashed scenarios of being surrounded by your family, and friends.

But more recently, you imagine poppy fields, sleeping in high-end stocks of flowers — but soon the demons roam in search of you, and the sky darkens.

“No, baby. No more windows. Ever again.” Bucky’s eyes squinted, you gasped. You were ready to beg, plead to stay on the floor just a little while longer, “Now it’s lunch time. I can hear my little angel’s tummy growling.” Bucky patted your belly gingerly, with no hesitation, he scooped you in his arms lifting you in the air.

Instinctively you locked your legs around his waist, your eyes never wavered from the frosty chilled windows. Your body began shaking, choking back pitiful sobs, as you ducked your head in Bucky’s neck.

“Maybe she needs a nap, she’s been crying all day.” Steve recalls hearing you sniffle since this morning, after getting a spanking. Bucky’s thumb rubbed circles into your shoulder blades, cooing you to settle down.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Bucky kissed your scalp, “she’ll feel better when she wakes up.” As the two soldiers discussed about you as if you weren’t present, you just went limp, your legs dangling. If it wasn’t for Bucky’s inhuman strength, you would’ve fallen.

What’s the point in fighting anymore? Your body is worn, and your brain is fried. There’s no escape, for years you thought so highly of the Avengers, but you learned that they were not so righteous.

Steve noticed your eyes were dull, it’s blank. Steve subtly caressed your cheek, as he walked by Bucky’s side. A small lopsided smile curved at your lips, but Steve was still worried.

Finally reaching Bucky’s apartment, Steve helped open the door as Bucky was pre-occupied holding you, “Steve, can you wash her pacifier for me?” Steve nodded, taking the pacifier from Bucky.

As Steve reached the kitchenette, to wash the paci in the sink, Bucky went to your bedroom. A custom made state of the art bedroom, the walls covered in white wallpaper with multiple printed teddy bears. Fuzzy pink carpeting, stuffies galore spilling out of the bin, toys ranging from blocks, puzzles, coloring books, barbies -- you name it, they spoiled you.

Bucky cooed in your ear sweetly as he laid you down in your custom crib, the plush mattress welcomed your body. You whined a bit, a few tears falling, “Hush, baby, it’s okay. Uncle Stevie is bringing your paci.” Bucky caressed your arms, and face trying to cal, your nerves.

Your eyes were droopy, mental exhaustion overpowering you, but you were resisting sleep. You started rubbing your eyes, as if you were a restless toddler refusing naptime.

Bucky and Natasha also has been popping sleeping pills, bladder weakening pills and birth control pills in your milk. To set your body on schedule, so you can learn to adapt using a diaper. Fall sleep at proper time during the day.

Steve entered the bedroom, to see Bucky trying to stop you from your agitated state. “She’s fussy.”Steve’s tone was laced with concern, he quickly gave Bucky the paci, and you shut your mouth. “It’s okay, baby. It’s your paci, say ah.” Bucky was trying to persuade you, you hated that you were becoming dependent on it.

You pouted, Bucky sighed. Once again, he had to resort doing it the hard way. Bucky pinched your nose shut, preventing any oxygen, after a few seconds, you had no choice, but to open your mouth for air.

You gasped, and Bucky took advantage, quickly popping the paci in your mouth, shutting your mouth with his palms. You whined, as Bucky kissed your forehead. Bucky tucked you in, “I love you, angel.” With that Bucky and Steve started leaving the room, turning the light switch off, and closed the door behind them.

Darkness and silence looming over you, your eyes drooped shut, drifting into a dreamless slumber.

***

It’s been over an hour of naptime, and finally Natasha returned from training. She entered the apartment to see Bucky sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. “Bucky, what’s wrong?” He lifted his gaze up, and Nat saw tears in his eyes.

Nat dashed to her husband’s aid, sitting next to him on the couch. “What’s wrong? What happened?” Nat was growing increasingly worried, “Our angel hates me.” Bucky croaked, his voice was hoarse. Natasha pulled Bucky into her arms, Bucky sniffled as he sunk himself into her chest.

“She doesn’t hate you. She’s still learning.”

“You didn’t see the fear in her eyes today. Her eyes looked dull, as if she wasn’t there. Even Steve saw it.” Bucky wailed in Nat’s arms. “It’s okay, she’s not broken. It’s not a quick procedure to get our angel. She will realize this is what’s good for her.”

“I just want her to be happy with us.”

“I know, Bucky. Me too.” Natasha kissed his head.

What Natasha didn’t realize was that you heard their conversation, as you awoke from your nap.

***

Was life with these people really that hard? They spoil you to no end. Yes, their choice of punishments aren’t ordeal, but after punishments they soothed you as if you were the most fragile treasure in the world. Can you learn to love them? Perhaps. Do you feel bad for them hurting? A little, and that’s what scares you.

You care, and it’s been bothering you.

For weeks, your hatred towards the Avengers has been simmering down. You did enjoy no longer having responsibilities, enjoying little space, you were slipping into the headspace more and more.

As thoughts were swirling in your mind like angry bees, the door opened, you quickly closed your eyes again. The light turned on, and their footsteps sounded quiet, not wanting to disturb your sleep, towards your massive crib.

Natasha and Bucky were hovering over you, watching you sleep, as if it’s their favorite view. So obsessed with you, vowing to kill anyone who will try to take you away from them.

Both Nat, and Bucky brought their fingers to your face, caressing your tear-stained cheeks. It was like this for a few moments, until they slowly shook you awake. Tenderly they coaxed you awake, your eyelids fluttered open.

“Hey pretty girl, time to wake up.” Natasha softly ruffled your curly ponytails. You don’t know what snapped in you, maybe your brain has given up, or maybe it’s the way these two are affectionately staring down at you.

Beyond the misty darkness that clouds their eyes, is love. Moments of good moments of playtime with them, or how they touched you giving you cummies, your body coming alive to their touch, or how your heart ached at their sadness flashed in your mind.

Maybe you do love them.

“Mommy. Daddy.” You mumbled against your paci, you made grabby hands outward to them. Natasha’s and Bucky’s eyes widened, their breaths hitched in their throats. At last, their little girl wants them - on her accord.

Natasha quickly took you out of the crib, holding you in her arms in an air tight hug. Bucky engulfed both of you in a bear hug.

At last.

***

It’s been a few weeks of you being the perfect angel, and quite frankly, you were happy. Stress of freedom slipped away, you were taken cared off. Adulthood was hard on you until Natasha and Bucky took you. It was unorthodox at first, slipping into your old apartment in the dead of the night, but it was worth it.

You were sitting on Bucky’s lap, as he sat on the couch watching cartoons with you. Your back against his chest, Bucky hugging you in his arms, your arm reaching behind his head, as your hand played with his hair. Bucky melts every-time you do that. You were sucking on your paci, and Natasha was in the kitchen preparing dinner.

The peaceful atmosphere was soon disrupted, as an urgent news broadcast flashed on the screen. You whined, and Bucky started looking for the remote to change the channel.

The broadcast flashed a picture of you, explaining that you were still declared missing, and your family was looking for you. Bucky’s whole body froze, as your silence was making him nervous. Natasha slowly peaked her head out from the kitchen.

You were unfazed, but you’re not dumb. You knew you had to reassure them, “Daddy, change the channel! I want cartoons.” You bounced a bit on his lap, to show your bratty impatience. Bucky picked up the remote, and put cartoon network on.

Both Nat’s, and Bucky’s heart fluttered, you didn’t care about your old life anymore. You took your paci out for a moment, and kissed your daddy. “I love you, daddy.” You put the paci back in your mouth, and watched the cartoons.

Bucky had tears in his eyes, and so did Natasha.

Their angel didn’t hate them, their angel loves them, and they love you.

Extra A/N: sorry that this was trash. This was beyond trash, I’m so sorry! This was rushed, and I’m bothered by it.

#buckybarnesplumwhore wrote this #buckynat x reader #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky barnes #dark!natasha #dark!natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #natasha romanoff smut #dark marvel #bucky barnes x black!reader #natasha romanoff x black!reader #one shot

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earlysunsetsoverambrose · 5 years ago

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Operation Sweet Surprise (1/3)

Lester Sinclair x f!Reader (Romantic or Platonic)

Warnings: roadkill and animal skulls

Description: It’s Bo and Vincent’s Birthday and you’re determined to make it special. You can’t do it alone, however. So you enlist the help of the youngest Sinclair.

The alarm on your bedside table went off at precisely 7 AM. Your eyes shot open and you couldn’t contain the smile that immediately took over your whole face. You were quick to shut off the alarm, glancing at the calendar to confirm you were correct. Today was the day. September 18th. More than likely, neither twin remembered the date so that made it all the easier for you to get away with your master plan. You’d been planning your little scheme for weeks now and it was all about to pay off. Operation Sweet Surprise was in full swing.

Yesterday, you were meticulous in your preparations, making extra sure you had your game plan mapped out completely. You had taken stock of what ingredients the Sinclairs already had. They didn’t have a lot, but they had some of the basics: flour, white sugar, butter, and eggs. The flour and sugar had been sitting there mostly untouched for years and were a little expired, but they would have to do. You couldn’t afford to buy everything new and you had to prioritize. Luckily, you’d had a little money from doing jobs Bo gave you around town. They were only small tasks here and there and he’d only give you a few dollars out of what they’d gotten from visitors, but it was enough for your purposes. You found an old cookbook with fairly simple recipes for both desserts that didn’t call for anything too fancy. Everything you needed was well within your ability to procure.

After that, all you had left to do was appeal to the youngest Sinclair to ask for a huge favor and hope he’d indulge you. Luckily, he had. That’s why he was your favorite by far.

You made your way to Lester’s cabin on foot. It wasn’t too far outside of town, but it was still a bit of a long walk. Obviously, you couldn’t ask Bo or Vincent to take you or you’d spoil the surprise and that was non-negotiable. Thankfully, the sun was on its way down, so it wasn’t miserably hot outside, making for a rather peaceful mini-hike.

Once Lester’s cabin came into your line of sight, you eagerly jogged up to the front door. You knocked, announcing yourself so he wouldn’t be alarmed as to who was knocking on his door right before nightfall. The door swung open to reveal Lester, toothy grin and all.

“Y/N! What can I do ya for? What’re ya doin’ out and ‘bout so late? ‘Specially all the way out here?”

“I came to see you! I have a huge favor I need to ask and you’re the only one who can help me!” You said, buttering him up so he’d say yes.

“Alright then, lay it on me.” he said, matching your enthusiasm.

“I’m planning on baking a birthday cake and pie for your brothers and I need you to take me into town so I can get the rest of the ingredients.” You said hopefully “I just need a ride, that’s it! I swear! And maybe, if you could let me borrow your kitchen that’d be incredible too! If it’s not too much trouble! I promise to clean up everything when I’m done!”

“Wow! That’s awful nice of ya!” Lester said supportively. His grin faltered for a moment, though, “Ya sure ya want it to be me that takes ya?”

“Pretty please, Lester! I’ll do anything! You’re my only hope!” you said dramatically as you clasped your hands together with the best pout you could muster through your giggles, begging him to help you.

“Well, I don’t suppose I can leave a damsel in distress. Sure, I’ll give ya a ride!” he said happily, “When did ya need to go?”

“Tomorrow morning! I’ll meet you where the road’s washed out at seven-thirty sharp.”

“Square deal, I’ll be there.” He said reaching out his hand to seal the deal. You dodged the hand and practically rammed your body into his, squeezing him in a tight embrace.

“Thank you, Lester! I’d be lost without you!” you said as you released him, smile beaming.

“N-no, problem. Anything for you…a-and Bo and Vinny, of course. They’re my brothers after all.” Lester stuttered out, still red from your hug.

“Thanks again! Okay! I’ll get out of your hair! I’ll bring all the pots and pans and other ingredients with me tomorrow! You’re the best, Lester!” you said as you began to jog back towards Ambrose.

“Hey, wait! It’s gettin’ dark out! I’ll give ya a ride back, if ya like!” Lester called out as he closed the door behind him, following you.

“You don’t have to do that. I couldn’t abuse your kindness any further.” You said only half-joking, “It’s okay, it’s not that far a walk.”

“Guess it’s not out of my way then.” Lester said matter-of-factly as he opened the passenger side door of his truck. You glanced between the long walk ahead and back to Lester’s hopeful expression.

“Well, if you’re going to twist my arm about it…” you said playfully as you walked up to Lester’s truck. He helped you up and closed the door behind you. You two got lost in conversation as you drove into the night toward Ambrose. By the time you arrived back, the ride didn’t seem nearly long enough.

You hopped out of bed and were quick to change into an outfit you wouldn’t mind getting dirty. Baking had a propensity to get messy so you were prepared to let the flour fall as it may. You pulled out a duffle bag you’d take from the storage house a few days ago and slung it over your shoulder. Last night, after the twins finally went to sleep, you loaded the bag up with everything you would need to make their birthday treats.

It was incredibly important everything go perfectly. It was a very special day whether the Sinclair Twins cared about it or not. It was their birthday and you were determined to make them feel special, damn it. All of the Sinclair brothers had spent far too many years being ignored and undervalued. Continuing that tradition simply wouldn’t do.

Over the last few weeks, you’d managed to weasel the information you wanted out of them, little by little. They told you that birthdays weren’t ever a huge ordeal for them. At most, their parents would buy them a cake and that would be it. The cake was always a vanilla cake with white frosting, which also happened to be Vincent’s favorite. Something you were sure Bo was bitter about. You tried multiple times to subtly badger Bo into telling you what he would have wanted if he had gotten a choice, but he always said he didn’t like sweets and shut you down. With a little more time, you noticed the one food Bo would consistently linger on - whether in an old coupon clipping or in reruns on TV - was apple pie. You noticed that each time, without fail, when Bo’s eyes would land on a picture of old-fashioned apple pie, he’d stare just a bit longer before moving on. Sometimes you even caught the smallest sigh escape his lips as he moved on after a glimpse of the dessert. That was all you needed. Once you had your answers, everything came together.

You quietly poked your head out of your room. Both Bo and Vincent’s doors were wide open, signifying both of them were up and about. You made your way down the stairs, listening for any signs of life in the house. It was silent so far, though that only meant Bo wasn’t there. Vincent could be lurking right behind you and you’d be none the wiser, the stealthy bastard. You paused at the bottom of the stairs to scan for movement. Nothing. You made a beeline for the front door and made your way down the porch and along the gravel road. Vincent was most likely working in the House of Wax. Bo was probably in the gas station. You just hoped he was too preoccupied to notice you. If he saw you trying to sneak by with a giant duffle bag, he might get the wrong idea. Thankfully, when you neared the gas station, you could hear his music blaring, meaning he was working in the back or downstairs. A shiver ran down your spine and you tried not to think about what he was getting up to. You picked up the pace toward the edge of town.

All the tension in your shoulders and the back of your mind disappeared when you laid eyes on Lester’s truck, waiting just like he promised. He was leaning up against the front, vigorously rubbing at something in his hand with an old, ratty cloth. You couldn’t help but find the scene endearing, his tongue poking out in careful concentration. You whistled to get his attention and his head shot up at your sound. His classic, goofy grin overtook his features. Whether he meant it or not, Lester wore his heart on his sleeve, and you treasured that.

You smiled back as you could practically see an imaginary tail wagging behind him at your arrival, his big brown eyes sparkling with anticipation. Always so keen to be around you, Lester never made you feel like a burden. He was the first to make you feel like Ambrose was your home, invested himself in talking to you and sharing with you. He welcomed you with open arms and proved himself to be quite reliable. It was always a welcome relief to be around someone who so honestly wanted to be around you. Not that you didn’t enjoy Bo or Vincent’s company, but they could be rather closed off and many times you were left not knowing how to feel or how they felt about you. That was never a question with Lester. You rather liked that about him.

“Thanks again for helping me out, Lester!” You said as you carefully made your way across the water. Lester wrapped up his cloth and tossed it to the driver seat before reaching out a hand to help you across the rest of the way over. As you made it to the other side, you dropped the bag at your feet, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Wasn’t any trouble,” Lester said, “Let me get that for ya.” He leaned down and hefted your bag over his shoulder and carried it toward the truck. He placed it on the floor of the passenger side before turning back to face you, “I tried to clean the truck up as best as I could, but uh, it’s still a bit rough. Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Don’t be sorry, you’re giving me a free ride. I’ve got no room to complain. Besides, I love your truck. It’s got style.” You said encouragingly. You noticed Lester rub the back of his neck as he looked down and smiled to himself. He did that every time he got a compliment. His truck might have been unconventional and certainly fragrant to say the least, but like he said; with time, even you got used to the smell. Now, it was just another part of him that you accepted like anything else. You two hopped in the truck and took off down the road toward town.

“Oh! Get a look at this!” Lester suddenly piped up as he scooped up his cloth from beside him “I found it by the road this mornin’! It was a raccoon ‘fore it started rottin’.” He held out a gory animal skull for you to admire.

“H-how about that?” you said looking the skull over. This wasn’t really in your area of expertise, but Lester seemed excited about it, so of course you listened closely.

“Yeah, pretty neat, right? Chased away some buzzards peckin’ at it ‘fore they messed it up. I have ‘bout five different skulls at home - kinda like this one - but this one’s nice and put together, ya see?” He was ecstatically pointing out the features of the skull as he went on, “The others I got are in bits and pieces. So, I reckon I can clean it up nice and set it on the dash next to…uh…sorry. I’m ramblin’ again. Ya don’t wanna hear this…” he trailed off as the joy in his voice turned apologetic.

“Hey, don’t apologize. I like to hear about the things you like.” You said energetically, trying to hype him up again, “If it matters to you, it matters to me. And I think it’ll look great on your dash. You’ll have to show me the rest of your collection sometime!”

“Really?” Lester asked lighting up again.

“Course I would! Why not?” you asked.

“No one ever wanted to hear ‘bout this sort of stuff, is all.” He said forcing his gaze to the road, “Usually just tell me to hush up.”

“They said that to you?”

“Yeah…I get it, though. Bothers some folks.” Lester said as he tried to shake off the shame in his voice, “I used to collect little bones and rocks when I was a kid. I’d clean ‘em up and show ‘em to everyone. I showed ‘em to my folks. And that foster family I had. And kids at school – some teachers too - but uh…I guess it ain’t too interestin’. They were too busy is all. And I don’t ever wanna bother no one.”

“Well, I think it’s cool.” You said resolutely. You were absolutely fuming inside. You knew Lester was neglected by his parents, but the fact that no one after them ever tried to engage with his interests was upsetting. Your heart broke thinking about little Lester trying so hard to make friends only to be ignored; not just by other kids, but by adults and educators who should have been on his side. He was just a kid trying to share what he loved and they told him to shut up. Well, you weren’t going to do that, “I definitely couldn’t have told you what animal that used to be. I wouldn’t know that from an opossum or a fox. How can you tell the difference?”

“They key is in the ridges on top. This one’s nice and smooth, see? It’s definitely a raccoon!” Lester explained excitedly. He was delighted as you continued asking more questions about the trinkets in his car and where he’d picked them up. Lester told story after story; and the childlike joy all over his face was reason enough for you to keep asking for more all the way up until you realized you had made it to the grocery store.

#lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #my writing #fluff #slasher x reader #slasher imagine #operation sweet surprise #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #female reader

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cardest · 4 years ago

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Melbourne playlist

There is no other city like Melbourne! It sure is a stand out city. I go there at least once a year and always look forward to going back as soon as I left it. But it’s more than just a city. It’s the music from this place that is undeniably awesome.

So I put together a playlist of bands, artists from Melbourne and beyond the city limits. It was one of the more fun playlists I put together and I hope you enjoy it. Maybe there is a song or a band from there I overlooked. Let me know!!

MELBOURNE, Australia

001 Big Pig - Hungry Town 002 King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard - Robot Stop 003 Magic Dirt - daddy 004 Models - I Hear Motion 005 Suss Cunts - Temper 006 The Birthday Party - Release the Bats 007 Cosmic Psychos - The Man Who Drank Too Much 008 Pseudo Echo - Beat For You 009 Amyl and the Sniffers - Some Mutts (Can't be muzzled) 010 TISM - Greg! The Stop Sign! 011 Abramelin - Human Abattoir 012 Hunters and Collectors - Say goodbye 013 Damaged - Nails 014 Weddings Parties Anything - Brunswick 015 Spiderbait - Fucken Awesome 016 Skyhooks - Balwyn Calling 017 Eddy Current Supression Ring - Modern Man 018 Real Life - Send Me An Angel 019 The Eternal - Down 020 The Triffids - Wide Open Road 021 AC/DC - Dog Eat Dog 022 Ne Obliviscaris - Of The Leper Butterflies 023 Mantissa - Mary Mary 024 Kids In The Kitchen - Bitter Desire 025 Deströyer 666 - Australian And Anti-Christ 026 The Stroppies - Celebration Day 027 Hobbs' Angel Of Death - Crucifixion 028 HOSS - The Tiredest Man Awake 029 Paul Kelly - Leaps And Bounds 030 Fuck the Fitzroy Doom Scene - Blind Faith 031 Inverloch - From The Eventide Pool 032 Painters & Dockers - Die Yuppie Die 033 Gay Paris - Ash Wednesday Boudoir Party 034 HIGH TENSION - COLLINGWOOD 035 Dan Sultan - Old Fitzroy 036 Voodoo Lovecats - Killed Her in St. Kilda 037 Jason Donovan - Nothing Can Divide Us 038 I'm Talking - Do You Wanna Be 039 BELAKOR - Roots To Sever 040 Dead Can Dance - A Passage in Time 041 HONEY BUCKET - Patch of Grass 042 Masters Apprentices ? - Melodies Of St. Kilda 043 Cosmic Psychos - Can't Keep A Good Man Down 044 The Fauves - Sunbury 97 045 Black Bats - Shining Haze 046 Even - The Melbourne Beat Parade 047 King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard - Big Fig Wasp 048 Boom Crash Opera - Onion Skin 049 Tropical Fuck Storm - Lose The Baby 050 AC/DC - Whole Lotta Rosie 051 Laura Imbruglia - Tricks 052 Huxton Creepers - Autumn Leaves 053 Kylie Minogue - Got To Be Certain 054 The Black Sorrows - Chained To The Wheel 055 Uncanny X Men Everybody Wants To Work Remastered Audio 056 MACHINATIONS - No Say In It 057 Jackson Reid Briggs & the Heaters - Seaside 058 Big Pig - I Cant Break Away 059 Kit Convict - Watch Your Skull 060 Cosmic Psychos - pub 061 King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard - Gamma Knife 062 Real Life - Catch Me Im Falling 063 Stonefield - Delusion 064 FRANKENBOK - Never To Return 065 Dreadnaught - The Push 066 Dead Can Dance - Anywhere Out Of The World 067 LITTLE DESERT - CAPTIVE 068 The Living End - Roll On 069 ORB - A Man In The Sand 070 Elm Street-Metal Is The Way 071 Parsnip - Health 072 The Berzerker - Caught In The Crossfire 073 School Damage - Gasbagging 074 Romper Stomper - Pulling On The Boots 075 Men At Work - Who Can It Be Now 076 Harem Scarem - Last Stand Man 077 The Peep Tempel - Mister Lester Moore 078 Mark Seymour - Westgate 079 Primo - You’ve Got a Million 080 Magic Dirt - amoxycillin 081 Ali Barter - Please Stay 082 Boom Crash Opera - City Flat 083 Buried Feather - Mind of the Swarm 084 Mortification - Scrolls of the Megilloth 085 TISM - Fourteen Years in Rowville 086 Pseudo Echo - Listening 087 Wrong Turn - Johnny Collingwood 088 Mondo Rock - Come Said The Boy 089 SUBTERFUGE - Unhinged 090 Split Enz - Message To My Girl 091 King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard - People-Vultures 092 The Eternal - All Hope Is Lost 093 Sunbeam Sound Machine - Real Life 094 Superheist - Bullet 095 1927 - Tell Me A Story 096 Chantoozies - Wanna Be Up 097 Bad Boy Bubby OST - Bubbys Song 098 Drown This City - IM NOT DIVIDED 099 Augie March - This Train Will Be Taking No Passengers 100 AC/DC - It's Long Way To The top 101 Rowland S. Howard - Lifes What You Make It (Talk Talk cover) 102 Crazy Pussy - Drink at the Tote 103 Teeth & Tongue - Dianne 104 Blood Duster - Northcote 105 Taipan Tiger Girls - Motion 106 Paul Kelly - From St.Kilda to Kings Cross 107 Cemetery Urn - The Deepest of Graves 108 Grinderman - Worm Tamer 109 The Masters Apprentices - War or Hands Of Time 110 Magic Dirt - She-Riff 111 Hunters and Collectors - Inside A Fireball 112 Hierophants - Fagg Hopp 113 Lost Animal - Lose the Baby 114 Essendon Airport - No Quarter 115 The Lucksmiths - Tale Of Two Cities 116 TOTAL CONTROL - The Hammer 117 Endless - Lord Deceptor 118 Eddy Current Suppression Ring - Our Quiet Whisper 119 Bits of Shit - Patrol 120 TISM - Mourningtown Ride 121 New War - Emerald dream eyes 122 Hiatus Kaiyote - Breathing Underwater 123 Alien Nose Job - Buffet of Love 124 Tetema - Haunted On The Uptake 125 Uncanny X Men - I Am 126 King - Coldest of Cold 127 Spiderbait - Cracker 128 The Cat Empire - East 129 Ausmuteants - Mates Rates 130 The Living End - All Torn Down 131 The Church - Destination 132 Skyhooks - Toorak Cowboy 133 Carlton Streets - Brian Brown Quintet 134 Silverlight Shadows - Headspace 133 TISM - I'm Interested in Apathy 134 Dumb Punts - Headfuck 135 SNOG - Business As Usual 136 The Dirty Three - Better go home soon 137 Crowded House - Nails in my feet 138 Rebel Wizard - Voluptuous Worship of Rapture and Response 139 U-Bahn - 'Beta Boyz' 140 Bestial Warlust - Dweller of the Bottomless Pit 141 The Murlocs - Young Blindness 142 CHRISTBAIT - Yeast 143 HTRK - Ha 144 A Basket of Mammoths - Unkept And Matted 145 Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds - Avalanche 146 Mondo Rock - State of heart 147 The Meanies - Punchin Air 148 Mad Max OST Brian May - Mad Max Main Title 149 Bananagun - People Talk Too Much 150 TISM - Get Thee In My Behind Satan 151 Cosmic Psychos - Dead roo 152 The Models - Out of mind, out of sight 153 Mantissa - Dream alone 154 Australian Crawl - Things Don't Seem 155 The Boys Next Door - the nightwatchman 156 John Farnham - One 157 Air Supply - Love and other bruises 158 Abramalin - never enough snuff 159 Billy Thorpe - It's almost summer 160 Disembowelment - Your prophetic throne of ivory 161 Amyl and the Sniffers - Got you 162 Abominator - Black Mass Warfare 163 Things Of Stone And Wood - Share this wine 164 Inverloch - distance collapsed 165 Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds - Deanna 666 Kath and Kim TV show theme song

Cya at Strangeworld Records! Cya yesterday!

#melbourne #Melbourne playlist #bands from melbourne #australian death metal #Nick Cave #TISM #bananagun #strangeworld records #cosmic psychos #king gizzard and the lizard wizard #the eterna #elm street band #mantissa

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monsterroonio · 1 year ago

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the sillies have arrived!!! I am so happy with how this turned out, they're all so excited >:D This is the invitation card to the new @xpau-official x-mas party, check it out! (run by @kuuuuro ) The comic is adorable so far, and they have so many characters this time around! I was so excited when I saw this card, I just had to do it. From left to right, Tango (up top), Willow, Skull, Roo, Red, Edge, and Bass. This was so fun to make, its so funny to see all their height differences lol Roo, Red and Edge all brought gifts as a group, Skull and Willow came as a separate group with a gift, and Tango and Bass brought cookies! Happy x-mas everyone <3

#xpaucard #xpau #xpau 2023 #underfell #dancefell #horrortale #roo art #dancefell sans #dancefell papyrus #bass #tango #underfell sans #underfell papyrus #horrortale sans #horrortale papyrus

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lethalchiralium · 2 years ago

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No More | [4] | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: i went off the rails LMAO. (quick note: roos is not the toxic ex-boyfriend 🤍 he’s my baby. he’s my good time boy. there is extra drama/tea associated with him though, you’re just gonna have to wait 🥰) ptsd is a real thing people!

NOTE: Your 141 Callsign is Mercy. Your Top Gun Callsign is Reaper, you no longer go by that callsign.

word count: 6,3k (astounding!)

warnings: 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Mentions of assault, trauma, vague allusions of domestic abuse (no one from 141!), cussing, medical attention/inaccuracies, mentions of blood, PTSD-induced nightmares.

summary: You really thought that sleep would do you good. You also thought that if you kept to yourself and did your job, Ghost would trust you more. Unfortunately, you take three steps back. Soap and Gaz are your therapy people, Cerby tries to help and Ghost tries his best to understand you.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

“You never listen to me!”

You heard the sound of drywall cracking right next to your ear, your heart pulsing in your ear as you felt those familiar yet unfamiliar hands against your throat - squeezing.

The feeling in your chest was one you never wanted to feel again, but you did now - it was betrayal of full trust in someone. You felt your hands move onto the ones gripping your throat, eyes unwilling to open because you knew you’d be face to face with your ex-boyfriend, Jake.

“You’re gonna pay attention, right now.”

Your eyes flew open then, the squeezing of your throat gone and your hands on the joystick of your jet. The comfort of your helmet blanketed your head, the screeching of alarms in your ear as you took huge breaths.

“Eject! Eject! Eject!”

Your hands reached down, grabbing the ejection handle and pulling. Pulling and pulling. Your hands flew back onto the joystick, sticking your head to the side to try and find somewhere flattish in the mountains to land.

You had only closed your eyes for one second before the scene changed again, a bright flashlight flashed into the store front you were hiding in. You could hear people yelling in a language you didn’t know, all you could feel were your hands on your pistol and how ice cold the ground felt against your back. Your breaths were taught like a string, strained and small. You couldn’t give up now, not when you had to get home to your family.

The door to the back room you were in slammed against the wall, a flashlight shined brightly in your face before everything went black.

You didn’t even recognize your bedroom when you jolted awake, launching yourself off of your bed and almost breaking your arm when you tumbled to the floor. You knew exactly where your gear was, you grabbed the knife out of its sheath and scrambled to the corner of your room. Your heartbeat was in your ears, your throat swollen, eyes wide and terror rumbled throughout your whole body. You couldn’t stop the loud sobs that left your throat, one hand clutched the knife while you buried your face into your elbow.

You felt like you were back in that store, rifle pressed against your forehead as you plead for your life in low whispers. You had said your feeble prayers, praying they’d find you years later - body decomposed and only bones left so your father and the man you loved wouldn’t have to ID you.

All you could feel was that fear and the certainty that you would become another casket to bury, if they sent anyone to find your body.

“Mercy. Hey, hey-“

You didn’t recognize Simon’s voice, your heartbeat in your ears as you pressed your entire back to the wall, knife held up as you looked up. As soon as you saw the painted skull of his balaclava, you launched forwards. The red tactical knife was held so tightly in your hand as you aimed it straight for his throat, his hands gripped your wrists and kept the knife inches from him. You’re not going to hurt me anymore, not anymore. It’s you or me.

“Mercy, it’s me-“ He grunted, you pushed every fiber of your weight onto the knife, plunging it another inch. Your knees were on either side of his hips, trapping him. He growled, bucking his hips and catching you off guard. Your grip loosened a little, your balance now thrown off as he twisted himself, throwing you onto your back. You screeched in surprise, raising your hand back and slashing his arm. The sting made him wince, watching as your head hit the floor hard. Blood began to drip on your shirt, the knife now pointed back at at his chest. His hand pressed your arm to your stomach, twisting it so you let go. You yelped in pain, and he moved forwards, his hand hit the hardwood beside your head hard.

And that sound right next to your ear made you flinch, made a flash of your ex-boyfriend appear instead of Simon’s masked face. You let out a breathless sob, panting as you felt control flood through your body. Your tear filled eyes fluttered, looking down and to how his free hand kept your wrist in a death grip.

You heard the knife clatter against the ground when it slipped from your torso; you watched blood drip down his tattooed arm.

“Y/N, you with me?”

You breathed out a sound of pain, agony - your eyes screwed shut as you felt nauseous. Chills ran down your back, yet you felt as if you were aflame. You had hurt him, you had hurt Simon. The one thing you promised you’d never hurt, one of the more stable relationships you’ve had in a long time. You felt like your last long term boyfriend then. Was this how it felt in the beginning for him? When he’d lay his fists on you when he was drunk, sobbing hysterically that he never meant to hurt you. Was this how Jake felt?

And how you had reacted was the same way you had years after with Rooster - him scaring you and you almost killing him out of fear.

You felt disgusting.

“‘m sorry, ‘m sorry.” Your voice was hoarse, sobs leaving your lips as your chest shook. He sat back, his legs straddling your hips. He let go of your wrist, going to take your hand but you ripped it away.

“Love.”

Your gaze felt like the knife, ripping his skin open again. Agony held like a flame in them, flickering as tears rolled down the sides of your face. You dragged yourself backwards and out from under him, you moved until your back hit the wall again. Your eyes stayed on the blood that began to drip onto the floor before you buried your face into your knees when you pulled them to your chest.

“Nothin’ but a scratch.” He murmured, eyes watching as your body shook - no noise escaped your lips. He watched as you trembled like a terrified animal, he thought reaching out might push you off the edge. “Y/N, I’m fine.”

You moved your head to look at him, eyes full of tears. Your hand balled into a fist as you gazed back down at your arm. “I…I hurt…” You hiccuped. “I hurt you, Simon.”

He looked down at the blood on his arm, not even worried about it. His gaze fell back to yours. “Nothin’ you can’t fix.”

“I could’ve killed you.”

He clicked his tongue, moving to sit on his ass instead of his knees. He landed with a humorless thud, stretching his legs out to either side of you - still not touching you. “It would’ve been the best way to go.”

“Simon.” Your voice was dull, the warning in it barely there but he heard it.

He cleared his throat. “You were scared.”

“You won’t trust me now.”

Simon had worked hard to keep his halves separate now, keep Ghost detached from Simon so he couldn’t hurt you more with his defense mechanisms - yet, they’ve imprinted in your brain. He can’t erase that. And it wasn’t like saying it was doing the trick either; he didn’t know what to do.

He leaned to the side, pulling your vest from its discarded place on the floor and ripped off the first aid kit. He tossed it back and ripped open the kit, starting to treat the small wound. As soon as he finished wrapping the bandage around his arm, he whistled.

There was a loud thud as the door opened, Cerberus scurried across the hardwood floor and dove into you. Your arms were immediately around your dog, burying your face into his neck while Simon moved forward. Cerby was a good distraction because he placed his hand on your knee, then placing his other on your cheek. You froze, moving your head to look up at him. “Baby, you were scared.” His thumb drew circles on your knee.

“I still… hurt you.” You mumbled, Cerby licking your face. Your hands moved him away, he continued to lick you on your arm. I hurt the one person I love more than anything.

“And I’ll live. Not broken yet.” He whispered, showing off his new white bandage. “Now you’ll always be with me.” You broke into another fit of cries as the smile under his mask dropped instantly. “Oh shit, fuck, I didn’t-“

You buried your face into Cerby again, the dog made an awkward yap before looking to Ghost for help. He dropped the hand from your cheek, keeping his other on your knee. He stared at the dog, silently telling him stay there and be a good boy because he is royally fucking up.

“Why don’t blind guys skydive?”

You didn’t respond.

“Scares the shit out of their dogs.”

He hoped you would crack a smile, stop crying, anything that signaled you weren’t upset anymore. He had no idea what to do, so he continued.

“Why was the strawberry crying?”

Silence.

“He was in a jam.”

Your head moved a little, eyes locked with his. A smirk tugged at his lips, relief washed through his veins faster than any whiskey he’s had.

“Okay, two goldfish are in a tank.”

You blinked.

“One looks at the other and says, ‘You know how to drive this thing?’”

You just stared at him, which made him feel even worse.

“Little army humor.”

“Very little.” You muttered, eyes looking back to your dog, who was staring at you as well. He whined a little, his paw coming to set on your stomach. You pet his head a little before looking back at Simon. “I’m sorry.”

Simon shook his head, moving closer to you - all you did was stare at him through teary eyes. “You did what you trained to do. I’m proud to know that I don’t have to worry about someone killing you in your sleep.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“It does for me.” He answered, moving his hand from your knee to your shoulder. “Come back to bed.”

“I won’t sleep.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“I-I can’t hurt you again.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line underneath his balaclava, hands moving to settle under your shoulders. He gently picked you up, letting you wrap your arms and legs around his torso before standing. He gently walked back to your messy bed, plucking you from his chest and placing you on the bed. Cerby made the risky move of setting his paw on the bed, to which Simon shooed him. The dog let out a loud whine in annoyance, going to sit next to your side of the bed. He settled his head on the sheets right next to your pillow, sniffing your face as you laid back down.

He moved to the other side of the bed, getting in and pulling the duvet up to your chin before tucking himself in. You kept your back to him, he could see how your body shook.

He placed his hand on your side. “I know that you’d never hurt me on purpose.”

Your hand settled on Cerby’s head, your dog whined a little before licking your nose just once.

“Just…” He swallowed the nervousness in his throat, unsure how to proceed. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You were protecting yourself, I shouldn’t have approached you.”

You scratched your dog’s ear, he gazed at you like you put the sun in the sky. Simon watched you from over your shoulder, yet he couldn’t see your face.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning.” He whispered, gently rubbing your side as he watched you until he couldn’t fend off sleep anymore.

—

It wasn’t normal for you to not be in the medical ward, Soap had remarked to Gaz. The two boys were looking for you, trying to settle a debate that Ghost wouldn’t input on. That and they were hiding from Price.

They had searched the base high and low, not wanting to end up at your office but that’s how their search ended - both men standing in front of your door, shuffling on their feet. They glanced at each other, neither wanting to knock since the last time they had a debate and knocked on your door, there was a certain Lieutenant in there.

“Sergeants.”

They whipped their heads around, seeing you standing in the hallway - a clipboard held to your chest, a salad container in the other hand and a hollow gaze in your eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gotten hurt again already, Soap.” You said, the men glanced at each other before back to you.

“No no, we just have a question, is all.” Gaz spoke first, turning to look behind him. “And to hide from Price.”

You rolled your eyes, approaching them. They moved away from the door, letting you unlock the door and push it open. Cerberus was quick to jump from your cot, skittering across the floor to Gaz, his third favorite person in the whole wide world. The dog yapped, tail wagging so hard that it kept hitting Soap’s shin, the Scot muttered words of annoyance before he moved out of the way. Gaz shut the door behind you three as you flipped on the various warm light lamps you had around the room.

“You lot came to annoy me?” You half-heartedly joked, going to settle in the shitty excuse of an office chair the military gave you. Cerberus had his paws on Gaz’s chest, tail still wagging a hundred miles an hour as Soap flopped onto your cot. “Or dodge chores?”

“Dodgin’ paperwork.” Soap groaned, moving to roll over so he laid on his stomach. Gaz was quick to sit in the seat across from you, Cerby pawed at him.

“That and we wanna know if Minecraft or Rainbow Six is better.” The Brit crossed his arms, glaring at Soap as your eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“You came to my office.”

“Yeh.” Soap.

“To ask me if Minecraft or Rainbow Six is a better video game?” You opened your salad container, pouring out the only good dressing the base had into it.

“Yes.” Gaz continued, you glanced at both of them before closing the lid of your salad and shaking it.

You shook your head too before setting your food down on your desk, your clipboard had been discarded on top of one of your filing cabinets. “Ghost put you up to checkin’ on me?”

The men looked at each other before looking to you, both confused. Gaz spoke. “What?”

“Just checking.” You answered, opening your salad and began to eat. You hadn’t talked to Simon this morning - in fact, you were gone by the time his alarm went off. You couldn’t face him.

“‘m not gettin’ in between another squabble.” Soap remarked, you rolled your eyes.

“Not a squabble.” You mocked him, opening your phone to check some emails from your subordinates. You read through rundowns of patient care, some patients being flown out of base into the city for surgical treatment due to an accidental misfire.

Silence then fell upon the room except for Cerby’s panting and the clink of his own tags as Gaz scratched his neck. You took a couple more bites of your salad before tossing the fork into the plastic container, taking your phone in both hands to respond to the email. You sent it, scrolling through another email before a text popped up on the top of your screen.

KEEGAN: Doing okay?

What is with everyone today?

YOU: Fine.

Another text popped up on the screen.

MAV: Hey honey, how are you?

You almost chucked your phone at the wall, but you slightly kept your composure as you sat back in your chair, nostrils flaring. Everything was getting on your nerves now.

YOU: Fine. What’s up?

MAV: Had a feeling you weren’t doing well. Just wanted to check on you

YOU: I’m fine.

Please Dad, for the love of all that is holy, fucking drop it.

MAV: Can I call you sometime today?

You wanted to bang your head against your desk and crack open your skull, let yourself bleed out because talking to your dad meant that he talked about Top Gun. When he talks about Top Gun, you can’t sleep for a week - not like you were gonna sleep anyway, guilt was eating you alive.

YOU: I’ll call you.

Another notification.

KEEGAN: Ghost told me about last night.

Of fucking course he did. He probably had to get advice on what to do with you. You bit your tongue before tossing your phone onto your desk, startling Gaz and Cerby - Soap was passed out on your cot.

“Sure you’re alright, Doc?”

You glanced at Gaz. “Peachy, Gazzy.”

The man in question whistled, “Sounds like someone’s gettin’ wrath sometime soon.”

“I’d say.” You mumbled, wiping your hand down your face. “You know, you can’t hide here forever. He’ll find out you hide here and then you’ll have to find somewhere else.”

Gaz groaned, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “If I have to look at one more signature line, think my head’ll explode.”

There came a knock at the door, Gaz shot straight up and bounded for the cot, slamming onto Soap’s sleeping body while you stood from your chair. You made enough noise by stomping to the door as Cerby whined loudly, yapping at Gaz on the cot while he tried to shush him.

You opened the door just a little, expecting to see Ghost, but it was Price. The man was strapped up in his gear, placing his boonie hat on his head as he said, “We’ve got a mission. And if you see the muppets,” He made a point to call over your head, “We’ve got to be on the tarmac in 20. Let’s go.”

“Thank you, Price.” You smiled, he looked back to you with a grin.

“You can’t hide them forever.”

You shrugged. “Was trying to get something out of it before I handed them over.”

“Good lad.” He nodded before walking away, you shut the door quickly and looking bat your friends.

Gaz’s hand was over Soap’s mouth, but he quickly retracted it and yelped, “You bit me!”

“You put yer hand near me mouth!” The Scot argued, Gaz immediately got up from their shared hiding spot to hold his hand out to you. You gently took it in your grasp.

Just a little bite, nothing more than marks but Gaz still said, “Test me for rabies.”

Soap burst out laughing, you gave him a quizzical look. “You’re gonna be fine, didn’t break skin.” You let go of his hand, Cerberus shoved his snout into Gaz’s bitten hand to sniff it.

“He bit me.”

“I heard.”

“Maybe ya deserved it!” The Scot spat, Gaz’s head whipped back to look at his friend, he almost looked as if he was going to tackle him.

You looked down at your watch. “Tick tock, boys. It matters if you’re on time or not, I’m sure you heard the captain.”

“Oh shit.” They both said, then scrambling out of your office - leaving the door open as they did. You immediately poked your head out into the hallway, calling after them, “If you’re not there in 10, I’m telling Price!”

You were in your gear in less than five minutes, your guns held in their holsters or strapped to your back. Your rucksack was on your back as you watched Cerberus make leaps and bounds towards his trainer - Price decided that the search and rescue dog would not be needed this time around.

Your hand was on your work phone, a secure line to other soldiers and fellow officers. You were walking down the side of the base, privates and sergeants rushing past as helicopters and planes were being prepared. It stung like a bullet to dial the number, but here you were - walking towards your team while talking to your father who you haven’t talked to in months. Great. You pressed the phone to your ear.

It only took a couple ring before you heard him pick up, “Captain Mitchell.”

It took just a moment for you to speak. “Hey, Mav.”

“Hey sweetheart!” You heard the familiar whoosh of a jet taking off in the background, your other hand held onto your rucksack strap a little tighter. “It’s good to hear your voice, bug.”

You didn’t know how to continue. You couldn’t talk to him about missions, and he knew nothing of the Task Force or your personal life anymore. Last he knew was that you and Rooster were splitting up. One goes to Korea, the other goes to the UK - both broken-hearted. Wingmen no more. “Uh, you too.”

“I asked to call at a bad time, then?” His voice was calming to you, it always has been. You knew that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, but he still hurt Rooster - and it was hard to pick just one side when you loved them both so much.

You noticed that Soap and Gaz were running across the tarmac, Soap staring at his watch as Gaz made the effort to get in front of him. A smile appeared on your lips. “I had a minute to spare.”

He chuckled on the line, you watched as Gaz tripped over his feet but still gracefully caught himself - Soap now in the lead as they rapidly approached the plane you were leisurely walking towards. “Well, it’s nothing special. Ice just wanted me to invite you to the Navy Ball this year.”

You chuckled. “If I’m even on break then, which I never am.”

“Oh, he’s already put in the request for you. Even said that he wants your Task Force to come too, your team has provided the Pacific Fleet with a lot and he wants to thank you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed - you were now halfway across the tarmac, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t say, he didn’t tell. He just wants to thank you in person.” He cleared his throat. “I’m trying to get Rooster to come, but you know how he is.”

Of course I know how he is. You ruined his self-esteem and derailed his life. Of course I know. I always remember, he’ll never let me forget it.

You were still confused. “You want him there?” You were getting closer to the plane, noticing that Alejandro was walking up the ramp with his things in tow. Still no Ghost.

“Of course I do.” He’s your dead best friend’s son, your godson. “Ice also asked for him.”

It was laughable, it really was. Rooster would rather wither up and die than be seen in the same room as Maverick. You recalled his exact words: Put a bullet in between my eyes if I’m within one hundred feet of Mav. Always the one for dramatics. “So you’re asking me to ask him?”

“…Maybe.”

“Jesus Christ.” You let go of the strap on your shoulder, that hand coming to pinch the bridge of your nose. “Get off your high horse and do it yourself.”

“He’s blocked me on everything.”

“And this isn’t grade school.” You commented, now walking up the ramp into the plane. “You’re his superior. Grow some balls and act like it.”

Your father laughed over the line. “Who raised you? Jesus.”

You rolled your eyes as you passed Alejandro - you felt his gaze burn your skin. You ignored it. “Tell him that I’ll do this one favor, and I’ll give him my answer when I return from my mission.”

“Thank you so much, Reaper.”

There it is, your Naval Aviation callsign that you haven’t been called in six years. Even after all this time, you still didn’t have the heart to tell your father that Reaper had died those three weeks in Ukraine. What emerged was someone with a lot less light in their heart. Mercy.

“Yup.” You had passed Soap and Gaz earlier, they were still arguing. You made your way to near the front of the plane, shucking off your rucksack. It landed on the webbed seat next to where you planned to sit, you settled yourself down and rested the side of your head against your pack.

“Look, I’ll let you go. Promise to call me when you get back, okay? Wanna make sure you’re okay.”

Even though he had made life-altering mistakes with your lifelong best friend, he was still cared for him. He cared a lot for you too, being his only daughter - it never mattered that he had adopted you, he raised you to be better than him and never without the quick, “Love you, bug.” Even if all else failed in life, he would never leave you. Your father loved you, and it was nice to know that he wouldn’t abandon you.

You nodded to yourself. “Okay.”

“I know you can’t say it since you’re probably leaving, but I love you, bug. Bye.”

The line went dead and you pulled the phone from your ear, shoving it into your vest before leaning your head back onto the frame of the plane.

You could’ve gone another three years without being called Reaper, you stared at the ceiling of the plane before closing your eyes. You hadn’t been Reaper in a very long time, you were synonymous with Mercy. You were Mercy, the 141’s medic - a Captain who listened to orders and obeyed.

Someone sat beside you, knee brushing against your right one. You didn’t even have to guess who it was, no one would to get near you due to your personal guard dog. You opened your eyes, looking to your right to see the familiar skull staring right at you. You looked down at his arm that settled on his lap, your hands reached for it. He then moved it over to you, allowing you to roll up his sleeve to see the white bandage. You began to unravel it, you had to see what you had done.

Guilt swallowed you whole as you looked at the cut, it was long and almost deep enough for stitches.

“Jesus, LT, whadya do now?” Your gaze looked up to Soap, both him and Gaz were staring at his arm.

You almost opened your mouth to speak, tell the truth, but Ghost was a step ahead of you. “Scared her last night, she was cooking.”

Your eyes darted up to Ghost, almost in disbelief. I haven’t cooked in a year. You then looked to Soap, deciding very quickly to roll with it. “Uh, yeah. Sliced him good.”

“That’s what you get for scaring a lady, hermano.” Alejandro called from closer to the back of the plane, you looked to him before you watched Price ascend the ramp. If only Alejandro knew. The Captain made his way towards Soap and Gaz, who pressed themselves against the wall of the plane to try to disappear. He sat his rucksack three seats down from them, diagonal to you on the left.

“Gentlemen and lady,” Price nodded to you as you looked back down at Ghost’s arm, beginning to retrieve some new bandages and cleaning wipe. “The information that the Ghost Squad had obtained is of upmost importance - we are heading back to see if the information they retrieved connects back to Makarov. The uranium plant being built needs to be destroyed regardless, it won’t be by us. If it has information pertaining to Makarov, we need it.”

All of the boys voiced their agreements, you did as well as you cleaned the slash and began to bandage it.

“Ghost will be leading the recon into the government building, we have to be in and out as quickly as possible. Alejandro and Soap will go with him, Mercy, Gaz, and I will be on look out and keeping the area secure.”

You kept your mouth shut. You knew it was most likely Price’s decision to keep you separated from Ghost, but it still stung the fresh wound you had opened in your chest. You didn’t even stop working on Ghost when Price spoke, you had just began to secure it with metal hooks and beige bandages when he dismissed everyone. The ramp had been raised when he spoke.

“It would’ve been fine.” Ghost murmured, you had finished it. You tugged down his sleeve and began to pack up your medical shears into your vest. “I am fine.”

“Wasn’t supposed to happen.”

He huffed a little. “I know. I was fine then, and I’m fine now. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

You just gave him a look, the look that made him know that you didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He nodded then, at least he was sort of good at knowing. Good man. It was going to be a long flight.

—

Three hours in. Soap and Gaz had separated, evenly splitting some webbed seats so they could sleep on the flight laying down. Price had covered himself with his poncho liner, Alejandro laid on seats as well - if he moved half a foot forwards, he’d be hitting boots with Gaz. You and Ghost sat alone on the left side of the plane, still sitting upright. Your hand had found its way into Ghost’s gloved one, both of your hands held it as you laid your head on his shoulder. He hadn’t spoken since before take off, you assumed he was asleep.

At this point, you were getting close to it. Your eyes were drooping, you could feel the warmth of slumber claw at you - but you still couldn’t fall asleep. You gazed at your hands, one thumb threaded across the back of his glove. If you closed your eyes long enough, you could see the bright red painted end of the rifle, shoved in your face. If you kept them closed longer, you could see your jet on fire as you limped away. You kept your gaze on his hand, grounding you - because now you could taste that phantom blood in your mouth, taste the disgusting bread and rabbit you had to live off of.

Something came into your vision, you immediately recognized it. It was one of Simon’s knives, the handle facing towards you. You looked up to your boyfriend, he gazed back down at you with a clouded stare.

“What’s this?”

He moved the handle forward, tapping an empty knife sheath near your shoulder. “Missin’ one.”

You glanced down, one hand leaving his and pushing the knife away. “Don’t need it.”

“We’re not going to be together this time ‘round and I can’t-“ Ghost paused. You could see how he mentally backspaced, staring, “I need you to have it.”

He would have normally said that he couldn’t protect you since you were separated. You gave him a smile. “Thank you.” Thank you for trying. You took the knife in your hand, noting that the knife was not yours - but one of his. A set you had purchased him for your one year anniversary, three knives engraved with SR. Did it cost a pretty penny? Yes. Was it worth him worshipping you for a day straight afterwards? Absolutely.

The silver SR glittered in the dim light of the aircraft against the black knife it was engraved on; dusk had clawed its way into the sky so the cabin wasn’t as bright as before. You then moved to place his knife in the empty sheath, then looked back at him again.

“What had you so scared?” Simon’s voice was low, quiet. “‘Cause I know that this wasn’t you not knowing where you were. You knew where your knife was.” His free hand went forward and tapped his knife in your sheath, his hazel eyes dark. “You’re always safe with me.”

The hun of engine was all that was heard for a moment, a never-ending moment. The moonlight began to light the cabin, your eyes gazed to your fellow soldiers, all out cold. Even Price, you could see his steady breaths. The hand that held his pulled it to your chest, resting your chin upon his glove.

The little thought crossed your mind that you should go back to therapy, but you never felt better when you were there in that office. Clock ticking, fish tank bubbling - the therapist you didn’t care for asking every nitty gritty detail of what happened. Simon wasn’t like that, Simon isn’t like that. Simon cared about what you said, cared how it affected you - not like the therapist who made everything worse.

C’mon, just tell him. It can’t be that hard, right? One word after the other, and then he’ll know.

But then he’ll pity me. He will lose whatever trust he has in me and leave, throw me to the wolves. I could lose my job if I let it affect me.

I can’t keep digging this hole, I might never come out.

You pressed your cheek into his shoulder again, slumping your body against his as best you could. Your hands moved from the one of his you held, moving to hold onto his arm. His words came back into your mind, ‘No one has stuck around this long anyway, you won’t hurt me.’ You squeezed his bicep, closing your eyes. “I’ll tell you when we get back, okay?”

He hummed in agreement. You took a deep breath, trying to let sleep begin to pull you under again. You felt his hand gently pet your head, consciousness began to slip from your grasp.

—

The slam of a wooden door made you tremble, you pressed yourself farther against the wall underneath the table you were hiding under. You had counted your bullets that morning, only seven left - you had used your last magazine on the Russians who came thirteen days ago. You were praying whoever was checking houses would shoot you, put you out of your misery.

Your stomach twisted in anxiety and hunger, you hadn’t eaten in three days. The burn on your side was still throbbing, probably infected - the medical supplies you had when you crashed had burned with the jet. You had only what you could scavenge in this abandoned town, nothing but old alcohol and rags to care for a burn, multiple slashes and a bullet wound from escaping the Russians. The least these scavengers could do was put you down.

You prayed. A silent prayer that they would leave your body here, let the US Government find your bones and cremate them, like you had stated in your file. Hand them to your father, your godfather, your best friend slash lover at the moment. You knew Rooster would do what you wanted. Chuck your ashes from a carrier into the ocean, no funeral. You weren’t sure he could do it though.

You could hear muffled talking, shouting outside. You slowed your breathing, pressing your ear to the wall - praying that it wasn’t Russians. Footfalls squelched against mud next to the worn down house, you pressed your knees closer to your chest.

You didn’t even hear the footsteps in the house until they had entered the kitchen, your eyes flickered to the checkered tile as boots hit them softly. You could see the mud caked on the brown canvas boots, you felt your heart in your throat. You said a little prayer in your head. You weren’t religious by any means, but you still went to church with Rooster’s mom, Carole, every now and again. It wasn’t anything long, just something to say to keep your mind occupied from the angel of death that stood feet from you.

The table was thrown to the side, your immediately reaction was to point your pistol into the flashlight pointed at you - your finger was on the trigger, but before you could sound off a shot, the hand of whoever had found you grabbed the barrel of your pistol and forced it to the ceiling while you pulled the trigger. The sound was deafening, your ears began to ring like church bells as the flashlight then pointed down. Black spots in your vision made it hard for you to see, but you recognized the beige patch of the United Kingdom flag. Your eyes flickered upwards, meeting gazes with a man with a well kept mustache and bright blue eyes. The rifle of which the flashlight was attached to was dropped from his other hand, it swayed from its attachment on his vest. Your grip on your pistol loosened, the man pulled it from you and tossed it onto the floor.

“Y/N Mitchell?” He stated, he sounded like he recognized you but you knew he needed to confirm. UK Soldiers were allies, this man was most definitely Special Forces by the way he carried himself and how quickly he was able to evade being shot.

Your freezing and empty hand dug into your shirt, pulling out your dog tags and nodding, whispering, “Reaper.” You coughed, your throat swollen from infection and no use. “My callsign… is Reaper.”

The man nodded in confirmed, hand flying to his radio as he leaned in to speak. “Watcher 1, this is Bravo 0-6.”

You heard no sound from the radio, but a little buzz from his ear.

He kept his eye contact on you as he spoke, “Sight on Romeo Echo Alpha. Target is alive, I repeat. Callsign Reaper is alive. I need medical evac.”

His hand left the radio, he kneeled down to your level. He held out a hand, never breaking eye contact with you.

“Name’s Captain John Price, I’m here to take you home, soldier.”

———

comment for part five!! tumblr won’t let me tag more than 50 so i’m very upsetti spaghetti :(

———

i wasn’t able to tag everyone, i’m sorry!

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530 notes · View notes

get-your-fics · 5 years ago

Text

hostage

Summary: Steve takes it upon himself to protect you after your family was taken in the blip, but he ends up going to extreme lengths to do so.

Pairing: dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: Smut, non-con/rape, stalking, kidnapping, violence, language, angst

A/N: This is for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor‘s in the dark! writing challenge. She is an absolutely amazing writer, so please go check her blog out if you somehow haven’t already haha. Congrats on 3k, Roo! You totally deserve it!

“Marco!”

“Polo!”

You tried to slink away from your little sister in the water, but her head snapped in your direction. She waded towards you cautiously, her arms stretched out in front of her. You panicked and started to swim away, not caring how much noise you made. She laughed and started to chase after you at full speed. You dodged around other people in the pool and flashed them apologetic smiles. You found yourself trapped in the corner of the pool, and you cursed under your breath. A hand clamped down on your shoulder and whirled you around.

“Gotcha!” She grinned at you triumphantly.

“No way!” You wrapped your arm around her shoulders and pulled her to you. “You had your eyes open the whole time, I know it!” You ruffled her hair.

“I didn’t cheat!” she whined, pushing you off of her. “Now, stop being a sore loser. It’s your turn.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine,” you sighed. You swam to the middle of the pool and closed your eyes. You counted to ten to give her time to move around. “Marco!”

“Polo!” Her voice was faint, and it sounded like it was coming from behind you on the left.

You turned around and swam towards where you thought she was. “Marco!”

“Polo!” Her voice was closer now.

You smiled as you heard the splash of water. It was barely audible over the noise of laughter from other people in the pool as she was trying to move quietly, but it was just loud enough for you to hear. You doggie paddled in her direction. “Marco!”

“Po...” she trailed off, but you could hear her right next to you. You reached out your arms, expecting to grab onto her, but there was nothing there. You furrowed your brow. She must’ve gotten away fast.

“Marco!” You waited for her response, but it didn’t come. “Marco?” Still nothing. You huffed. “Emily, we talked about this! You have to say polo!” You spun around. Dread started to settle in the pit of your stomach. “Emily?”

In fact, it was eerily silent. The only sound was the slosh of the water around you. You opened your eyes and looked around you. There was no one in the pool, and the once clear, cerulean water was now tainted black. Black as ash, black as char.

Black as dust.

“Everyone disappeared that day. My family, my friends. That was over a year ago now, but I can still remember it as if it was yesterday.” You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, your eyes welling with tears. You must’ve told this story a thousand times, but it still got to you. “No matter how hard I try, I just can’t forget.”

“You don’t have to forget to move on, (Y/N). It’s important to remember the loved ones we lost,” Michael who led the support group explained to you in a soothing tone. “But we can’t let our futures be ruled by the past. We have to build our lives while honoring the memory of those who are gone, to move on in a way that they would be proud of.” His eyes locked with yours. “Thank you for sharing your story, (Y/N). Hopefully, it will encourage other people to share theirs as well.” He glanced down at his watch. “That’s our time for today. Thank you, everyone, for coming. I’ll see you all again next week, same place, same time.”

The legs of the metal chairs screeched against the tiled floor as the other people in the circle stood up. They gathered their things, most of them heading straight for the door while some of them hung around after and chatted. You grabbed your bag from where it was slung over the back of your chair and threw it over your shoulder. You were ready to join the rest of those bolting for the exit when a man named Dave stepped into your path.

“Hey, (Y/N), right?” You nodded wordlessly. “I just wanted to say you were really brave for sharing that with us. I don’t think I would have the guts to do that.” He laughed nervously.

“Thanks, Dave.” You offered him a weak smile. He had only been in the support group for a couple of weeks. He didn’t really speak much. The only reason you knew his name was because of the introductions at the beginning of every meeting.

“My parents disappeared in the snap too, so I know how hard it is.” He lowered his gaze to his shoes. Everyone you met had lost someone nowadays. It was the new normal. “If you ever want to talk about it one on one,” he reached into his jacket and retrieved a small slip of paper, “feel free to call me. We could go get coffee or something.”

You looked down at the paper in his hand. Scrawled on it was his phone number in black ink. You took it from him and shoved it in the back pocket of your jeans. “I’ll think about it,” was all you said.

“Okay, cool. Bye, (Y/N).” He waved to you as he started to retreat. “See you soon.”

You waved back and watched him leave. You waited, giving him a head start, before moving towards the exit to the church where the support group was held. You took the slip of paper out of your pocket and discreetly disposed of it in the trashcan next to the doors. Many people had started to reach out to one another, to make new connections to fill in the gaps and holes left from the old ones. But you weren’t one of those people. Your associations were few and far between, and you were starting to prefer it that way. The less amount of people in your life meant less of a chance of getting hurt again.

You kept your head low as you left the church and headed back to your tiny, studio apartment in your hometown. You had been attending the support group meeting for a little over a year now. It was your last hope, but nothing had changed. You still felt like there were heavy chains attached to your ankles weighing you down and holding you back. You still wished that you had been a part of the fifty percent, that either all of your family had survived or you had gone with them.

You took a shortcut through an alley to your apartment and immediately regretted it when you saw a shadowed figure leaning against the building. It pushed off of the brick wall and was on you in a second. You heard the cock of a gun and saw the glint of metal in the dim light of the far away street lamps. “Purse, now,” the deep voice growled.

You didn’t argue with the man. There was no point. He was way bigger than you were, so overpowering him would be impossible. You let out a small sigh before letting the strap of your bag fall off your shoulder. You did what every adult had advised you to do ever and threw it a good distance away from you so if the mugger dove for the bag, you’d have a chance to escape.

The man didn’t move. He stood stock still in front of you, like he was contemplating something. “The necklace too.”

That sent a pump of fear surging through your veins. Your hand absentmindedly reached up to touch the small, diamond pendant dangling from the gold chain around your neck. It had been your mother’s before she had given it to you. “I... I can’t,” you stammered, holding back tears.

“I don’t think you understand.” He raised the gun higher so you could see it clearly. He aimed it directly at your head. “Give me the necklace now, or I put a bullet through your skull.”

You slowly lowered your arm to your side. If you had to die over protecting your mother’s necklace, then so be it. You rolled back your shoulders and lifted your chin. You stared down your nose at the man. He tightened his grip on the gun, readying to pull the trigger.

A hand wrapped around the back of the man’s neck and lifted him off of the ground. The man’s eyes bulged, and he let out a sharp yelp as he was slammed against the wall of the building by another shadowed figure. The figure held him up like a rag doll and punched him square in the jaw. He let go of him, and the mugger dropped to the gravel in a dirty puddle, limp and unconscious.

You pressed yourself up against the brick wall opposite the figure, panting for breath. Whoever this man was, he was unlike anyone you had ever seen before. He was tall and stocky, with broad shoulders and huge biceps straining against the fabric of his hoodie. He unclenched his large fists, and you could tell he was restraining any animosity he had and unbridled strength he possessed. He slowly turned around, his face shadowed by the hood pulled up over his head.

“Are you all right, miss?” You furrowed your brow. His voice sounded strangely familiar, like you had heard it somewhere before.

He reached up and lowered his hood. A slat of light streaming in from the end of the alleyway shone down on his face. He had chiseled features, a strong jaw, short, golden hair. His glossy, blue eyes caught what little light there was and reflected it like the stars in the sky.

“C-captain America?” you stuttered.

A soft chuckle fell from his pink lips. “That’s me.”

That only added to your confusion. “I didn’t know avengers saved people being mugged in alleyways now,” you joked.

“I happened to be in the area.” He leaned down and picked up your bag from where you had thrown it. “But I’m not what’s important right now. Are you okay?”

He held your bag out to you, and you took it from him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” What business could an avenger have in your hometown? Shouldn’t he be off saving the world somewhere or hunting down some big, evil villain? Shouldn’t he be trying to reverse the effects of the blip?

“Really, it was no problem.” He beamed at you triumphantly, his face alit. It was strangely off-putting.

You looked over his shoulder at the mugger collapsed in a heap on the ground. “Is he going to be okay?” There was something odd about the way he was so still. He didn’t even look like he was breathing.

Steve’s face twisted with confusion before he saw who you were looking out. “He’s just out cold. He’ll probably wake up in a couple of hours.” He looked back at you. “Why does it matter? He attacked you.” His focus on you was undivided, like you were the only thing in the world.

“You’re right. It doesn’t.” You forced a strained smile on your face. “Thanks again for your help. Goodbye.”

You started to walk away when he blocked your path. “Where do you live? Maybe I could walk you home.”

“That’s really not necessary.” You wrung your hands together.

“Please, it’s the least I could do. Wouldn’t want you to get into another incident like this one without me there to save you, now would I?” He grinned.

Your smile faltered. “I can take care of myself.”

He raised his brows, like he was taken aback at your response. “Really? ‘Cause from the looks of it, you would be bleeding out on the ground right now if I hadn’t have come to the rescue.” He loomed over you. “Why is that necklace so important to you, you’d be willing to die for it?”

You shrunk away from him and grasped the diamond resting against your collarbone again. “My mother gave it to me. She was-”

“Taken from you in the blip?” he finished for you. You nodded. It was a pretty obvious guess. “I understand how it is, (Y/N). I lost people myself, but you can’t let it rule your life forever.” He extended a hand to you. “Now, please. Allow me to take you home.”

Every muscle in your body froze. “How did you know my name?”

An unreadable expression came over his face, but it was replaced in a second by his usual poster-boy smile. “You told it to me, remember?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “No, I didn’t.” You eyed him suspiciously.

He slowly lowered his arm and dropped it to his side. The corners of his lips twitched before his smile slipped from his face. His lips pressed into a thin, straight line, and his blue eyes hardened. All the light drained from them until they were two blackholes in the middle of his face, sucking and drawing you into them.

“I’m sorry we had to meet this way, (Y/N).” His tone was dark and low, and it made chills run down your spine. “I didn’t plan for it to happen like this, but I guess we rarely ever do.”

Some instinct deep in your gut told you to run. You tried to sidestep him, but he was faster than you. He grabbed your arm and pushed you back against the wall. The back of your head connected with the brick, causing your field of vision to go blurry. You could barely see Steve in front of you as he reached in the pocket of his hoodie and took out a syringe filled with a bright green liquid. How did you think you could outrun a super soldier?

You struggled against him, but his arms kept you still. He pressed his chest flush against yours as he jabbed the syringe into the side of your neck. The sharp sting of the needle piercing your skin cut through the dull ache in your skull. “Shhh,” he shushed you as he injected you with the liquid. “Don’t worry. Everything is going to be all right. You’re with me now.”

His voice sounded muffled to your ears. Your body relaxed as whatever he had injected you with involuntarily invaded your senses. Gray, fuzzy dots formed over your already hazy vision until it was completely enveloped in black, and the sweet bliss of unconsciousness took its hold over you.

You slowly returned to your senses. You felt like you were trying to move through molasses as you tried to get the gears spinning in your brain again. Your limbs felt heavy and weighed down, like they were made out of lead. Your eyes fluttered open, but you still couldn’t see anything. There was a bag over your head, shrouding you in darkness.

You let out a low groan, and you heard footsteps draw closer to you. They stopped right in front of you, and the brown bag was ripped off of your head. You winced as you were blinded with light. You blinked rapidly to adjust your gaze before taking in your surroundings. You were in a rather spacious room with concrete walls and a cold, stone floor. The only source of light was the singular, overhead lamp shining down on you, keeping everything beyond the pool of light you were in out of focus.

You became painfully aware of the position you were in. Your wrists were tied above your head to a rope hanging from the ceiling. You were suspended enough so your toes just barely touched the ground, keeping you in a state of constant discomfort and exhaustion. Your bones and joints were sore, and you struggled to balance yourself on the tips of your toes. A strangled cry crawled its way out of your throat.

“I know, little girl.” Your head snapped to Steve who stood in front of you. He looked completely unhinged now. His lips were twisted into a sinister grin, and his blown out pupils swallowed all light that hit them. “I know it hurts, but this is temporary, as long as you behave.” The way he said behave made your stomach coil in repulsion.

“Where am I?” Your voice was hoarse and strained.

“Somewhere where no one will find us, where we can be alone.” He lifted a hand to caress your face, and you jerked away from his touch. His grin wavered. “You know, I have to commend you, (Y/N). You are a smart girl. Most people wouldn’t notice a slip up like that, but you are not most people. That’s why I like you so much. You’re cunning, like when you threw away Dave’s phone number because you knew he’d never be worthy of someone like you.”

You bristled. “You were watching me?” He nodded. “Why?”

He reached in the back pocket of his jeans and held up a crinkled piece of paper for you to see. It was a newspaper clipping of an article about you detailing the loss of your family and friends. A lot of them had been run about people after the blip. This one featured a picture your best friend had taken of you on a bridge overlooking a river. Even though the ink was faded, you could make out the radiant smile on your face and the bright look in your eyes. You felt like you were staring at a completely different girl. This version of you was so foreign to you now.

“You lost everyone dear to you in the blip, and all because of me. Because I failed to prevent it, failed to stop Thanos.” He clenched his jaw so hard the veins in his neck stood out. “So I thought that maybe if I followed you for a little while, if I could just help you from afar, I could make it up to you, but it wasn’t enough.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “You need me. The only way I can truly protect you is if I have you in my grasp. Our little run-in in the alley showed me that.”

You shook your head. “You’re insane.” He was Captain America! Wasn’t he supposed to be the good guy, the one whose face was plastered over all the posters with inspiring words attached to them? The star spangled hero? The man standing in front of you now was anything but that. He was like a depraved, funhouse mirror version of him. I guess the blip changed us both. “You think just because you feel guilty you can stalk me and try to control my life!”

He chuckled, the sound bouncing off of the walls. It sounded so out of place for the situation and slowly morphed into maniacal cackling. “You know, another thing about you is that you’re really stubborn. You’re so insistent on being alone. I mean, you didn’t even want me to walk you home after you almost died in an alley by yourself!”

“Because I don’t need you, you sadistic fuck! I don’t need anyone!” Your voice shook with rage. Angry tears sprung from the corners of your eyes and dripped off your chin.

“You do need me.” He cupped your face in his large hands, wiping away the tracks left behind by your tears. “More than you realize right now, I know. But we’ll work on that. I’ll teach you to trust me, to not isolate yourself so much. I’ll give you your old life back.” His hands drifted down to your hips. “I’ll make you whole again.”

You moved back as much as possible, ignoring the way the rope cut into your skin at the undesirable position. It rubbed your wrists raw until they were red and irritated, and you could feel wet blood rolling down your arms in thick drops. You screamed wildly before kicking your leg at him with all the force you could muster. He caught it before you could land a solid blow to his gut, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest.

“I know every move you make, (Y/N). I know everything there is to know about you.” He reached for the fly on your jeans. “I know you better than you know yourself.”

“No! Get off of me!” You shouted desperately as he undid the button and zipper on your pants. He pulled the denim and your panties down your legs in one fell swoop. “Get away from me! Let me go! Let me go!”

He threw the discarded garments over his shoulder and grabbed your hips again. “Shhh,” he shushed you as he pulled you close to him. “I just want to hold you. I just want to make you feel better.”

He gripped your thighs and forced your legs to fold around his waist. He lifted you up, and you hated the flush of relief that ran through you as the weight of your body was removed from your arms and shoulders. He smirked at you and moved his hand in between your bodies, pulling his cock out of his jeans. Fear coursed through your veins as you got a glance at the size of him.

“Stop it. Get away.” Your voice cracked. You knew it was hopeless.

“There’s no stopping me, (Y/N).” He positioned himself at your entrance, and you didn’t have time to prepare before he pushed in. Your mouth fell open as the head of his cock stretched you open. You tensed against him, your chest heaving as you gasped for air. “Just relax,” he whispered in your ear. You tried to listen to him, willing to do anything to stop the searing burn as he entered you. He slid into you to his limit, pushing you way past yours. “There. Isn’t that better?”

He moved in and out of you at a slow pace. You gritted your teeth and willed yourself to focus on the pangs of pleasure sent rolling through you with each thrust of his hips. Slick coated the inside of your thighs, and he sped up as you relaxed around him. Your cheeks were flushed from the heat and embarrassment at taking any pleasure out of this at all, but you were grateful that your arousal meant his rough treatment hurt less.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this moment,” he grunted. “To touch you,” he carded a hand through your hair, earning a squeak from you as his fingers caught on the tangles, “to kiss you.” He smashed his lips against yours, silencing any screams that wanted to escape.

He tightened his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin, certain to bruise. The obscene noise of skin slapping against skin filled the otherwise quiet room as you bounced up and down on his cock. He pulled away from your lips and nuzzled the tip of his nose against your cheekbone. His short and shallow breaths filled your ears, and his white t-shirt clung to his chest with sweat where your bodies made contact.

“Cum for me,” he managed between pants. His hand snaked up your torso to cup your bouncing tit. “I want to feel you cum on my cock.”

You could feel a wall of pleasure building inside you. You twisted your hands in the rope, desperate for something to cling onto. You could no longer stop the needy mewls falling from your lips in time with his thrusts. Your walls clenched around his cock as the wall came crashing down, euphoria washing over you. You leaned your head back, your thighs twitching around him.

“Yes,” he breathed out. He fucked into you at an inhuman pace. You were too dazed to realize he had cum inside of you until it was too late. He stilled inside of you as his cum painted your walls.

Your chest rose up and down violently as you caught your breath. You closed your eyes, relieved that this torment was finally over. Then, you felt him harden inside of you again, and your eyes snapped open. A whine left your parted lips.

He chuckled. “Oh, little girl,” the lustful, dark look in his half-lidded eyes shocked you to the core, “you didn’t think I was done with you yet, did you?”

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