#took me 40+ runs to escape BUT I DID IT!!!!!!!!!

[unholyhelbig]

i would love a one shot of nat interacting w ronnie! maybe r is caught up doing a job for nat and nat has to pick ronnie up from school and domesticity w r ensues?

Title: The Carpool Lane [an Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: You get caught up while running an errand for Natasha and aren't able to pick your daughter up from school. You ask Natasha to do it and she has to grapple with some big feelings.

[a/n: Hello! I promise you all that the last official chapter of the Oversight is going to be posted soon. It is a very heavy one so here is some fluff in the meantime! Also, I'm opening my requests again, so feel free to send some my way.]

Warnings: None that I can think of other than horrible grammar, but please let me know if I need to add any!

Check out the full Oversight universe

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven]

The air in the home office had become sticky and cloying. It often did when the sun decided to shine as strongly as it did. Natasha kept her books clean and clear of dust but often times there was only so much she could do. Large particles floated in the crossfire of a golden glow. It almost pained her to wrench the window open and disrupt the flow.

It was difficult for Natasha to keep focus when she could hear the sounds from outside and feel the soft breeze on her skin. She was often known for her dedication, for her focus and her ruthlessness. But on afternoons, she was stuck doing mountains of paperwork when she’d much rather be doing you.

Natasha often drifted into hazed memories of the whimpers that escaped you, your breathless swears interlaced with the intoxicating way you moaned her name. She liked teasing you until you begged for her, until you needed her more than you needed breath, until you arched your back and cried into the thousand thread count sheets.

Of course, her favorite thing was to bring you to the very edge with her just her delicate touch and her sultry words. You’d come undone underneath her, coated in sweat and ready to please as an orgasm rocked through- an annoying ringtone.

Natasha had shoved her phone into the bottom drawer of her desk to gain some focus. It clearly wasn’t working. Her nails scratched across the rich oak of the desks surface before she pawed around.

Yelena had set her ringtone to the loudest, most obnoxious blowhorn she could find. She claimed that Natasha was losing her touch and often couldn’t hear anything past her own thoughts. And so, what if that was the case? Natasha quite liked her thoughts lately.

“Romanoff,” She drawled, voice dripping with annoyance.

“Hi,”

It took one breathless word from you and everything else was forgotten. There was worry in that single syllable and it made Natasha’s world spin for only a second before she got her bearings. She could do this. She was in charge.

“Tell me where you are.”

“You know where I am, you sent me here yourself.” You chuckled in a low whisper. Natasha had sent you to collect rent from your usual charges. She knew your pattern and could hear the low hum of the row of washing machines behind you.

While she prided herself on her ability to train you into the perfect protector with a quick hand a vicious tongue, she wouldn’t dare change a thing about your soft spots. You had particular one for the family that rented the apartment above the Soapsuds laundry mat and ran it seamlessly.

It was nearly impossible for you to say no to the elderly woman that took up residence with her son. She’d make you tea and you’d indulge in cookies as she regaled you with her charming stories from the 40’s.

“She’s a trained killer, ma, she doesn’t have time for this!”

Natasha heard the son’s accented voice muffle it’s way through the phone. She scoffed, and switched her phone to her other ear. You must have put your palm over the receiver because you were garbled too.

“I absolutely have time for this Miss Vazquez.” You returned to your conversation, voice whispered once more. “I don’t have time for this, Nat. I don’t want to break her frail heart. Could you possibly… pick Ronnie up from school?”

Natasha had been rendered silent, which wasn’t a feat that was often achieved in a shocking manner. Usually, if a Romanoff was quiet, they were busy calculating and it was better to avoid the storm brewing behind their eyes. This wasn’t the same kind of soundlessness.

She had to pick her jaw off the floor. Veronica was your entire life, and though Natasha came in for a close second, you would do absolutely anything for that child. You’d walk through fire, and it was testament to your growing trust with Natasha, having her pick your daughter up from school.

“Nat, baby” your voice came through the phone “did I lose you? If it’s too much I can get Darcy to take a later lunch. It’s not a problem at all. I shouldn’t have asked, you’re a busy woman and-“

“I’d love to.”

“Huh?”

“I can pick her up, y/n, really.”

Her palms started to sweat, and Natasha never sweated. She stood up and started to pace the length of her office, entering and exiting the large stream of light that vented in through the window. She listened carefully as you told her word for word how to enter the car line, and what mothers to avoid entirely.

“I’ll call ahead, let them know you’re safe to pick up Ronnie. Thank you for doing this, Natty. I appreciate it.”

She smiled, biting her thumbnail. She stopped at the window and peered out at the newly installed swing set at the edge of the property. So many little things had changed in Natasha’s life over the last year. There were children’s books strewn over the tables and art supplies that Ronnie loved to draw with. This was an extra step. This was the extra step that made her fingers itch for the ring hidden in the false bottom of her desk.

“Darling! Would you like to hear about the night I had with Robert Kennedy?”

“I would love to, Miss Vazquez!” You called back, lowering your voice once more. “I love you, I’ll see you at home. Dinner is on me.”

You had hung up the phone a few moments ago but Natasha kept it against her face for a few moments as if it were an anchor. She had to pick up Ronnie. She had to pick up Ronnie. Natasha was on her feet now, searching the large living room and foyer, and even the nightstands by her bed before she grasped at her keys and sprinted out the door.

Veronia was a girl of very little words, but she was comfortable enough around Natasha to curl into her side during movie nights, little fist clenching onto the fabric of her shirt. Most of the time, she’d fall asleep before the end of the film and Natasha would stare affectionately as you scooped her up and took her to her room.

Now, Natasha sat in the parking lot of the school with blood rushing past her ears. Somehow, the gaggle of mothers that lingered by the release doors were scarier than anything she had ever faced before.

She’d been shot at least four times and had survived them all. She had pulled the trigger herself more times than she could count, but all of curious eyes landing on her sleek black car made her nearly sweat through her t-shirt.

Natasha stalled as long as she could before taking the tentative steps across the asphalt lot. There was a small patch of green grass that seemed to be overwatered if it still held its vibrant color during a late heated day.

Her sunglasses were down over her eyes and she feigned looking at her phone, though she eyed each and every parent that lingered. They were openly staring at her, and she heard a few hushed whispers, absolutely no attempt to muffle their judgements.

“Don’t pay them any mind.”

Natasha startled, not noticing the woman that had sidled up next to her. Her skin was pale, her hair a pitch-black color that must have heated her up on a day like this. She stuck her hand out and Natasha took it carefully, shaking it. “Jessica Jones.”

“Natasha Y/L/N,”

The woman was apprehensive to use her own last name. While she kept a mostly low profile, there were still some people who would clock the name as something familiar. The last thing she needed was someone targeting you, or God-forbid, Ronnie. The words fit perfectly into her mouth like a sweet candy.

“I’ve never seen you around here before, and apparently neither have the vultures with the way they’re circling.”

She couldn’t help but smile “I’m… new. My partner got a little tied up at work and asked me to pick up her daughter.”

“Ah, so you’re that Natasha.” She must have flushed awkwardly, nervously, because Jessica seemed to backtrack. “Nothing bad. There are moms like the women over there who put their entire being into making everything perfectly beige. Then there are moms like y/n and I. Imperfect.”

Natasha’s eyebrows lifted. Each woman that flocked towards the front of the glass doors, waiting excitedly for their children to spill out did have the same look about them. They all wore leggings and different colored pastel shirts. Each one had the same highlights and haircuts, and apprehensive stares.

“We’re out here a lot together, and it was pretty obvious when things started to change for her. With you around, the smile actually reaches her eyes you know?”

The statement warmed Natasha greatly and made the box in her desk weigh heavier on her mind. Of course, she didn’t want to think too much about it, but she also wanted to make sure that you were happy, something you reassured her of over and over again.

Natasha opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by the barrage of tiny feet on the sidewalks and grass. There was a sea of runny noses and crinkled papers slathered in different primary colors.

A small boy with dark ringlets of hair crashed into Jessica’s legs clumsily and she let out a large huff of air in response, scooping him up into her arms. He had the most startling blue eyes like his mother and gave Natasha a gap-toothed-goofy smile.

Natasha was searching the crowd for your daughter. It wasn’t like she would call out, that was much too vocal for her and Natasha didn’t blame the girl in the slightest. Through the sea of kids, her eyes locked on Ronnie’s and she gave her an encouraging smile and a small wave.

Veronica’s expression lit up as she dashed the few feet that was separating them. Natasha had the foresight to lean down enough to dampen the impact of her hug. It was quite the rare occasion to be embraced by her, so she savored the spring scent of her.

“Your mama got caught up at work and asked me to pick you up.” Natasha explained, leaning back on her heel, she brushed a strand of hair behind Ronnie’s ear. “What’s that?”

Natasha gently pointed to the picture that was in Veronica’s hand. Her chest welled with pride at the drawing and she would say that it was miles better than any other kid she saw run out with their artwork. Yelena had been right; Ronnie had a beautiful gift that Natasha would pour everything into for as long as she wanted to call it her craft.

This particular scene was a rendition of the large house, too big to fit within the confines of the paper. There was six figures that vaguely resembled each person Natasha knew and loved. A clear grouping had been established.

Kate was smeared in a purple color with dark locks of hair.

Yelena had been drawn next to her, hand and hand.

Clint stood close to them- but not too close- with his signature deep look.

What called to Natasha the most was how Ronnie had grouped her. There was a figure by the edge of the page that was clearly you, down to a tea, and a shorter figure right next to you that was unmistakably Ronnie. The two figures held hands; and on the other side, with her signature deep auburn hair and green eyes, stood Natasha. Her fingers were wrapped around Ronnie’s in the photo, too smudges of color that made the enforcers heart thrum harder than it ever had before.

“This is beautiful,” Natasha breathed, struggling not to let the water that built up in her eyes drip down her cheeks. That would be weird. It would freak Ronnie out. “I love it.”

“You do?” The girl asked.

“I do. In fact, it’s getting framed and hung up immediately.”

It was rare for Ronnie to speak, but it was a prize each time she did. Just like you, Natasha had begun to understand her body language and everything she said with her eyes. It was something she would grow out of, or maybe she would speak with just her art.

Either way, Natasha read her loud and clear.

It was well past ten pm by the time you had pulled yourself away from the laundry mat. You ended up eating dinner with the family despite your repeated refusal. It was some of the best food you have ever eaten and though you missed the quality time with Natasha, the vodka coating on the pasta would have you reeling for weeks.

The house was mostly dark by the time you returned, and you were careful when you let your keys drop into the dish by the door. A soft golden light streamed down the hallway, leading to the kitchen.

Natasha would often partake in a glass of red wine, a record playing softly in the background. It was her time to unwind, to do the dished from dinner and breathe out the stress of the day. Just like any office job. Sometimes she’d use the time to scrub away blood from under her nails as you waited patiently and took sparing sips from her glass despite denying wanting one of your own.

The sink wasn’t on, and the kitchen was mostly silent save for a faucet drip here and there. Natasha leaned against the counter and stared at the moonlit swing set in the yard. It was bathed in just enough pale light to make out the shapes drifting in the light breeze.

You came up behind her, snaking your arms around her waist and resting your head on her shoulder. She shivered against the coolness of your skin, but hugged you tight against her center with a comforting and raspy hum.

“Thank you for picking up Ronnie today,” you mumbled into the side of her neck, “And getting her to bed. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

Natasha turned in your arms and had a bit of a pout to her expression that you weren’t expecting. You lifted an inquisitive eyebrow at her. You wanted to kiss that frown right off her lips. You wanted to lull her into a state of content after the long day you’d had.

Almost timidly, she said “We’re a family. That’s what we do.”

God, how long you’d wanted to hear that. This time, you didn’t hesitate to close to the distance between you both. You kissed her softly; you kissed her with so much love that it left you dizzy.

You’d scared away partners before with the prospect of having a daughter. Most of the time, you wouldn’t’ even bring it up until a third date, when you were close to sure. But even then, you’d be left at the restaurant, or the bowling alley, or the movie theatre by yourself once the words left your mouth.

Nothing about your relationship with Natasha had been conventional, however, and each day she shocked you with her tenderness and care for someone she had no responsibility towards. Just letting you and Ronnie move in had been enough. Parenting her? Loving her? It felt beyond reality.

She chuckled into the kiss, running her fingers down your jaw. “I love you too, detka.”

“Mm, seriously, thank you.”

“Do you want to see something?”

You lifted your eyebrows suggestively and earned a light-hearted smack to the shoulder. She wormed her way out of your embrace and crossed the large kitchen to the fridge. When you’d first moved in, it was blank. There was a single wedding invitation tacked up with a magnet for joining the Murdock and Natchios families in matrimony, but even that had been years old.

Now there was something new.

Something that had unmistakably been crafted by Ronnie. The photo was a beautiful mix of colors and mediums and at the very corner in, in blue crayon, were two words; My Family.

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[lambtotheslaughterr]

I Burn : Part One

A Rafe Cameron Mini Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 3.6k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

MASTERLIST | PART TWO

Summary: Reader is reluctantly placed into a rehabilitation faciity for individuals who struggle with their various addictions. She has low expectations of the facility & even lower expectations of herself to improve, especially when she catches the attention of fellow patient Rafe Cameron… her addiction to sex just became that much harder.

            The last two weeks had been hell. Literally.

            Your parents, disturbed & distraught with you after your latest tryst, were desperate to get you help. But you were convinced they just wanted you out of their sight & the public’s eye. So, two weeks ago, your parents took to driving you two hours into the Virginian woods to leave you in the care of doctors & nurses who would help you with your…problem.

            Of course, you were in denial. You were nineteen years old, it was normal for you to enjoy sex & the like. But after the first week of group & one-on-one therapy, you learned to admit that perhaps you did have an issue. But admitting to having an addiction didn’t give you hope that you would get better, or change. Two weeks in & you masturbated daily, starving for a man’s hands, lips, & cock. Any man’s.

You often fantasized about your therapist. His name was Dr. Mooney. You didn’t discriminate. He was in his 40’s, handsome with graying hair & a salt & pepper beard. The glasses he wore only influenced your fantasies. The wedding band on his left ring finger didn’t bother you, he wouldn’t be the first married man you’d been with. But he was also the one who told you that your dismissive nature was problematic, opened your eyes to your addiction.

Currently, you were on your daily mindfulness walk in the woods with the other addicts in your group. Most everyone kept to themselves, yourself included. The topic you were to reflect on had to do with this morning’s group discussion: functioning with your addiction. Dr. Mooney released you four of you with a few questions to ask yourself on your walk.

How did addiction affect your work, school, personal lives? What does overcoming your addiction look like? How does it change your life? The lives of those who have been affected by you? Is it a life you want?

It was your least favorite aspect about being admitted to rehab—not that you had a favorite aspect. But you loathed that all questions you were asked since your admittance required thoughtful answers. You couldn’t just answer yes or no. You were forced to reflect, to give a shit.

Instead, you found yourself having come across a creek near to the facility. You made the small & quick descent to the water, removing your socks & shoes to dip your feet in. It was cold, but not enough to deter you. You sat there, your toes wriggling just beneath the surface. The sensation sent a tingling sensation up your spine. You bit your lip, sighing.

Dr. Mooney would be displeased that instead of asking yourself the discussion questions, you were growing as wet as the creek before you. Frustratingly so. The others were not nearby. You would be quick.

Reaching into the band of your sweat shorts, you grazed your fingers over your throbbing pussy. A low mewl escaped you, full of want. You were already soaking. You lied on your back, the loose rocks digging into your skin, but they only added to the images running rampant in your head.

You pictured Dr. Mooney across the creek, watching you, the reflection of you pleasing yourself in his glasses. His lips were moving, the light breeze of the trees carrying his voice over to you.

Lick your fingers, _____. Suck on them for me.

You did, moaning as you tasted yourself before placing your fingers back over your tender bundle of nerves.

Show me how you want me to fuck you.

A gasp parted your lips as you gingerly stuck two fingers inside yourself, immediately encased in the wet, warmth of your center.

Let me see those tits. I want to see what I’m missing out.

Your other hand was quick to pull down the front of your tank top, your nipples hardening due to the sudden exposure. You rubbed your thumb over your nipple as you fucked yourself with your fingers. The squelching sounds of your desire battled with that of the trickling creek. Then you heard it.

Dr. Mooney’s moans. You often imagined what he sounded like when he fucked his wife, how he would sound better fucking you. His breathy moans were in your ear, decidedly pleased with the feel of you clinging to his cock. The scratchiness of his beard bristled against your neck, causing your body to shudder.

“I want to fuck this cunt.” He wrapped his hand around the wrist in between your legs, making your hand move faster.

“Please.” You begged, a strangled cry caught in your throat.

“What do you want?” There was a hint of a smile in his voice.

“You.”

“But you can’t have me.” He cooed. A wet sensation covered your nipple, you dug the fingers of your free hand into the loose rocks, pushing your chest into the mouth of your therapist.

“I need you.” You huffed, “I need you to make me cum.”

“Tch, tch, tch.” He nuzzled into your neck, his grip on your wrist growing firmer as he sped up. “You’re a naughty girl.”

You whined, clinging to your own fingers as they stroked the flames of your building orgasm.

“You’re close.” He whispered, observant as always. “Show me what I could have.”

You flicked your thumb across your clit & the wave of pleasure crashed over you. A muffled scream sounded as you pressed your lips together to hide your shameful lust. Your cum coated your fingers as you came down. Finally you opened your eyes.

Your chest was heaving as you caught your breath. You glanced around your surroundings. Alone. No Dr. Mooney. You exhaled, annoyed. Getting to your knees, you readjusted your clothing & washed off the evidence of your misdeed in the water. Dr. Mooney would be disappointed if you told him how you spent your mindfulness hour. Perhaps you would say nothing. But the thought of him knowing you were getting off in the woods to the thought of him would give him something to get off to himself. A coy smirk tugged on the corner of your lips.

Putting your socks & shoes back on, you began ascending the small hill before coming back to the trail that led to the facility. You were about to head back towards the building when a figure hidden among the trees just off the trail surprised you. You immediately rolled your eyes.

Renee stood there, her arms crossed over her chest, “You’re filthy.”

“Good thing we have showers in our room.” You countered, uncaring that she saw.

“Dr. Mooney is going to be disappointed.” Those words forced you to scowl.

“Shut up, Renee.” You bit, prepared to stomp away from her, “At least I don’t look disgusting.”

Renee was a cocaine addict. Her ashen skin & the bags under her eyes were only a few physical signs of her withdrawal. She sneered at you.

“Nympho.” She insulted as you passed by her.

“Coke-whore.” You threw back.

Leaving her behind in the woods, you fast walked through the woods. You wanted to shower before yoga, Renee’s words embedding themselves into your skin.

            Yoga was futile. Especially with Renee on a mat behind you. You felt her eyes boring into your back the whole session.

            Dinner was better, to say the least. You took your plate of grilled cheese & bowl of tomato soup to a table in the corner of the room by the windows. Other patients in the room sat & ate by themselves. There were at least fifteen patients, only three of them in your group. At a table opposite of you, Renee picked at her food, grumbling to another patient sitting near her. You rolled your eyes, focusing on your food.

            After dinner it was time for another group session. You wished you could hide away in your room, but Dr. Mooney would only send Nurse Carney to come find you. Group time was a requirement. You didn’t have to talk if you didn’t want to, if you had a difficult day that day especially, but you were always required to attend & at least listen.

            As you left the youth wing—where addicts aged 16 to 22 stayed—you tugged at your chapped & peeling lips, nervous. In the discussion room, a room with high ceilings & large windows that overlooked the lawn behind the building, you paused in the doorway. The normal set-up was there, a circle of cushioned chairs in the center of the room, but one thing—or person—stood out.

            Their back was to you, but that didn’t matter. You had never seen them before. The only other guy in your group that wasn’t Dr. Mooney was Albert & he had shoulder length curly hair. This guy had a buzzcut. You narrowed your eyes. Slowly, you approached, taking the side that was furthest from him. When you came into eyesight, his eyes flashed to yours. You resented the feeling of euphoria that came over you as his eyes dragged the length of you. The outfit you wore wasn’t the most flattering, but you weren’t prepared for there to be a new kid. A good-looking one.

            Trying to ignore his appraisal, you sat in a chair opposite him & to the right of where Dr. Mooney sat. You lowered your eyes, tucking your legs underneath you as you got comfortable in your chair. You were grateful that this facility wasn’t like the one in the movies with rigid uncomfortable seating. These ones were lush, with arms to drape your legs over if it called for it, & cushioned backs that tempted slumber. It was one of the few times you thanked your wealthy parents—for at least putting you in a luxurious facility.

            “It’s Friday.” The voice broke you from your mindless thoughts.

            You looked up, staring at the guy across from you, “What?”

            He pointed at your chest. You glanced down. You furrowed your brows, “Okay…”

            “So your shirt is wrong.”

            “Great observation.” You deadpanned. The guy chuckled, his eyes never leaving you. You returned the look, though you doubted your stare was as curious as his. Fortunately, you were good at hiding what you were thinking. Or so you thought.

            “You alright?” There was no note of concern in his question, but it still threw you.

            “Excuse me?”

            He smiled, & you couldn’t deny how cute he looked when he smiled. It made your thighs shake.

            “You’re looking at me like I killed your dog.”

            “Don’t have a dog.” You returned, your voice flat. He hung his head, apparently amused by your response. He nodded, meeting your eyes once more, “Guess every household really only needs one bitch.”

            Your mouth hung open. This guy!

            A miffed smile appeared on your face as you prepared to rebuttal, but another figure entered the room. Dr. Mooney. You immediately kicked your legs out from under you, straightening your spine. The guy raised his brows, following your line of sight.

            “Good evening.” Dr. Mooney greeted as he noticed you before landing his eyes on the guy. “I see you’ve already met each other. Rafe, we met earlier.” Dr. Mooney offered his hand, to which the guy, now Rafe, took it lazily, not even bothering to stand up.

            “_____.” Dr. Mooney smiled at you.

            “Doctor.” You responded smoothly.

            He looked briefly between the two of you before sitting down beside you. You fluttered your eyes closed, inhaling Dr. Mooney’s familiar scent. It was a minty medicinal smell, but light. Not the nauseating kind. There was nothing nauseating about him. You licked your lips, clapping your hands together & pressing them between your thighs. You weren’t as bold to touch yourself, but you liked knowing that your hands were close.

            “Others should be here shortly then we’ll do formal introductions.” Dr. Mooney shared as he kicked a leg out to rest on his other. He placed his clipboard that he took notes on on his lap.

            “How are you enjoying it so far, Rafe?” Dr. Mooney asked the new kid as he removed a pen from the inside of his jacket.

            “Could be worse.” Rafe leaned back in his seat, his eyes shifting to you.

            “Well, I’m sure _____ already introduced herself—”

            “Hasn’t, actually.” Rafe quipped, offering a half smile.

            “Oh?” Dr. Mooney looked to you. You shrugged.

            “Well, Rafe this is _____, _____ this is Rafe.”

            “So you said.” You responded low, avoiding Rafe’s eyes.

            “Rafe will be joining us for the next 12 weeks.” The information made you feel conflicted. Though you were already had sour feelings towards the dude, especially since he called you a bitch within the first minute of meeting you, you couldn’t deny how nice it would be to have another good-looking guy in your group. Albert was cute, but he was gay. You prided yourself on at least curbing your hypersexual tendencies to respect other sexualities.

            “Why are you here?” You questioned, finally looking at Rafe. He looked as if he was about to respond but Dr. Mooney brushed the side of his hand against your thigh, only briefly to interject the conversation. Your lungs stopped working.

            “That will be discussed when the others get here, _____.”

            “Of course.” You breathed out, pressing a hand against the part of your thigh he lightly touched.

            You couldn’t be bothered that Rafe watched your hand as you rubbed your thigh there.

            Less than five minutes later & the circle was complete. Renee sat to the left of Rafe, throwing you a pointed look. Siena, an opioid addict, sat between Rafe & Dr. Mooney, & Albert, who struggling with his sobriety from alcohol, sat between you & Renne.

            “Now that everyone is here,” Dr. Mooney began, sure to smile & greet everyone in the circle, “Rafe, would you like to tell us why you’re here, let us to get to know you.”

            Rafe scoffed lightly, seemingly unimpressed, but adhered to Dr. Mooney’s prompt.

            “I got kicked out of school. Dad had enough of my bullshit. Put me in here.” He shared so matter-of-factly.

            “And why were you kicked out of school?” Dr. Mooney, you knew, already was aware of the answer, having done your first one-on-one session with him before your first ever group session like everyone else in the group. He only asked so everyone could be aware of each other & what they’re here for.

            “Beats me.” Rafe smirked, “I went to all my classes so.”

            Dr. Mooney pressed his lips together but was not impatient, “That’s not what your parents & I discussed.”

            “Isn’t there confidentiality here?” Rafe asked.

            “Absolutely. In our one-on-one sessions. But in group, we are transparent. There’s nothing to be ashamed of here, Rafe.” Dr. Mooney gestured to the circle, “You’re not alone. We all struggle with something. It’s why we’re here.”

            The only thing about Dr. Mooney that ever bothered you was his use of ‘we’, as if he was also experiencing what you & the others were experiencing. He wasn’t. He was getting paid to help you through it all.

            “I’m not ashamed.” Rafe quipped, “But I did nothing wrong, either.”

            Dr. Mooney hummed, scribbling on his clipboard. “Alright, Rafe. I won’t push. Not yet. We’ll go in a circle so you can get to know everyone else then we’ll try again.”

            You watched as Rafe shook his head, but he settled into his chair quietly. Siena went first.

            “Siena, 18. Pill popper. An accident I was in almost two years ago left me nearly paralyzed. Started on morphine, then got switched to oxy & hydro’s. Got to a point where I needed them to function. Then one night I OD’d. Had my stomach pumped, & now I’ve been here for a little over a month.”

            “Thank you, Siena.” Dr. Mooney grinned, turning his attention to Renee.

            She rolled her eyes, her legs hanging over the arm of her seat, “Renee, 21. I like coke.”

            “Is that all?” Dr. Mooney questioned. Renee rolled her eyes, sighing heavily, “It was either here or jail. Good enough?”

            Dr. Mooney cocked his head, but moved on to Albert.

            Albert mustered a smile, “Albert—not Al not Bert, Albert.” He shared firmly, “I was sober for a year from alcohol but relapsed so I’m back here, hoping to get back to the world & to my boyfriend in no time.”

            “And you will.” Dr. Mooney added. Then he angled himself to look at you.

            Crossing your arms over your chest, you looked at the wood floor as you shared, “_____. 19. Apparently I have a sex addiction.”

            “_____.” Dr. Mooney said your name with a tone you knew well. You cleared your throat, rewording your words, “I do have a sex addiction. I’m here because I slept with my father’s TA. In his office. Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t got caught but that’s how the cookie crumbles, I guess. It’s been too long since I’ve had sex. And I feel like I’m drowning.”

            “Your fingers don’t do it enough for you?” Renee’s grating voice sounded.

            Your eyes flashed to her. She looked so tiny in her chair, being practically swallowed by it.

            “Shut it.” You spit.

            Renee chuckled darkly, pleased by your reaction.

            “Renee, you know not to interrupt or antagonize.” Dr. Mooney reprimanded.

            “Oh, but I thought we were supposed to look out for each other here, Dr. Mooney.” Renee responded sarcastically, “And I definitely saw _____ getting it on with her hand in the woods earlier.”

            Heat bloomed in your cheeks & rage coursed the rivers of your veins.

            “That’s not group discussion appropriate, Renee.”

            “But isn’t it?” Renee challenged, “I mean, it was your name on her lips.”

            “You fucking bitch!” You snarled, rising from your seat & gearing to attack her where she sat so smugly.

            “_____!” Dr. Mooney’s clipboard clattered to the floor as he caught you, his arms around your waist as he held you back, “Albert, get Nurse Carney.”

            Albert rushed out of the room in search of the head nurse. Renee bit her lip, smiling up at you as Dr. Mooney pulled you away from the group. Just off the room was another one. It was a smaller one with a couch that faced a pair of windows & soft, melodic music that played quietly during all hours. Dr. Mooney closed the door behind the two of you & moved to sit you down on the couch.

            “_____, you need to calm down.”

            You struggled against his hold, desperate to tear Renee to pieces for revealing your private moment in the woods to the group, let alone the object of your desire.

            “She said that on purpose!” You yelled, “Fucking bitch needs to be hit.”

            “Violence is never the answer.” Dr. Mooney had let you go at this point but still kept his hands on your upper arms to keep you in place as you imagined pummeling Renee to a pulp.

            “You’re not the violent type, _____.” He reminded you but you didn’t care. Your adrenaline was skyrocketing.

            “I can be. Just let me show you.” You argued.

            The door opened behind Dr. Mooney & Nurse Carney appeared. Her red hair tied into a familiar knot at the top of her head.

            “Dr. Mooney.” She got his attention.

            “Nurse, I need you to lead discussion for the time being while I sit with _____.”

            “Of course.” She smiled, offering you a concerned look. You liked her enough, but you felt embarrassed as she pitied you.

            When she left the room, Dr. Mooney sat with you still, “Close your eyes & breathe.”

            You closed your eyes, focusing on your breathing. But it was difficult when all you wanted to do was punch Renee’s lights out. You figured tomorrow you’d go to boxing instead of yoga.

            After a few minutes you had calmed down enough for Dr. Mooney to let you go. You already missed the feeling of his hand on your upper back. When you opened your eyes, you saw he was examining you.

            “How are you feeling?” He asked.

            “Angry.” You replied shortly, “But… calmer.”

            “Good, good.” He grinned. He clasped his hands together on his knees as he leaned forward, “What Renee did was inappropriate & I will be discussing that with her, okay?”

            You nodded, unable to find your words, fearful that your anger would spike again.

            “Stay in here for the remainder of the session.” He stood, tucking his hands into his slack pockets, “Or, if you feel better & more in control, please feel free to rejoin.”

            You wouldn’t. But you nodded anyway, “Thank you, Dr. Mooney.”

            He gave a closed lip smile, “Of course.”

            He turned his back & was about to leave but you stopped him, “Dr. Mooney, about what Renee said…”

            “_____, it’s alright.” He faced you, “We’ll discuss it in our one-on-one session in the morning, okay?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Just relax & if I don’t see you during session then I’ll see you in the morning.”

            “Okay.” You mustered a smile, “Thank you.”

            Dr. Mooney left you then.

            You collapsed into the couch, stretching out atop it as the melodic sounds of an ocean & piano filled the room. Sighing deeply to yourself, your thoughts strayed to the sensation of Dr. Mooney’s arms around your body. You loathed Renee for getting a reaction out of you, but you were elated to feel his body pressed against yours because of it.

            Images of him holding you, naked flesh against naked flesh, flooded your every thought. In this room. He would take you in here. On the couch. You’d rake your nails down his back as he held you. Fucked you.

            A soft moan parted your lips.

            Your eyes opened to linger on the door to the other room. Dr. Mooney said you were okay to stay in here for the remainder of the session. That gave you nearly an hour.

            You removed your pants.

part one to my new rafe cameron mini series! idk yet how many parts it will be but i'm loving it so far! so please comment your thoughts, reblog w reviews, or drop an ask to tell me what you think! i'm thirsty.

as always, thank you for reading!

beau<3

Requests are currently CLOSED.

Read this post on why doing more than liking a tumblr writers work is essential to our content creation.

[my love language is words of affirmation, it would make my day if you could comment your thoughts, reblog with tags, or drop an ask that shows your support. thank you for reading tumblr writers, we appreciate you]

taglist: @jsrafesgirl @bunnycvnts

to be added to a taglist read rule 11 on my pinned post. requests will be dismissed otherwise.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark!fic #non con fic #dark!fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #dark!outer banks #i burn part one

[del-thetiredwriter]

Mafia Au/Good luck while running away from mafia part4

Intro, part 0.5 , part 1 , part 2 , part 3 ,

Tags: @hrhqueenfox , @hasty-desert , @oceanside-pixie , @lianreine , @h3apm3ch4n151m , @cecilebutcher , @ayachansan , @roseapov , @randomlyappearingartist , @serenity-loves-red , @wonderlandcrown , @nightw-izhu , @moonlight-nightwing , @lorkai , @lucid-stories , @morokumi

Notes: little bit rushed I guess? Well I am working on three other aus at the moment so. I hope you like it.

Warning: yandere stuff, gn reader, English is not my first language…

4 years ago

“Tyranttt!” You moaned.

“I haven't eaten a bite or drank a sip of water for hours. Now you're giving me an exam! “This is not a test, it is torture!” You shouted to the cameras on the wall.

As usual, you were training with Crewel sensei all day long. And it couldn't be said that he was a very kind teacher. He was extra harsh on you, especially compared to the other people he trained.

However, he had especially gotten things out of hand. Today was one of your least favorite days. Surprise exam day. Surprise exams: as the name suggests, you would never know the content and time of the exam. Crewel would put you to the test suddenly, without you even noticing. You especially hated the hands-on ones.

You couldn't eat properly yesterday. You had been training under Crewel Sensei all day. When you returned home, you fell asleep straight away from exhaustion. When you woke up, you found yourself handcuffed in a room. While I was sleepily trying to comprehend what was happening, Crewel Sensei's voice echoed into the room from the ceiling speaker.

“My dear little puppy, guess what time? Correct answer: Surprise exam! Your mission is to get out of the handcuffs and get out of this building within two hours. Let me tell you from the beginning, do not complain, the exam was prepared according to the topics we covered. Then I wish you good luck. Your time has begun.”

-

“Two hours and 6 minutes nch nch. You need to work harder. 8 minutes to get out of the handcuffs, 43 minutes to open all the locked doors, 40 minutes to pass the obstacles... we better tighten up your training."

You just glared at Divus as he seriously analyzed the exam. You're too hungry to bother with that damn practical exam. You just focused on eating your salad.

“I mean, what was slowing you down? Should we increase the number of exams?

“Sensei, it’s just six minutes, I was tired, unprepared-“

“The aim is to prepare you for all kinds of situations.” Crewel interrupted.You grimaced. You weren't in the mood to argue with him right now.

While Crewel was talking about your mistakes, there was a knock on the door. It was Sam.

“Sam-san!” Your eyes sparkled with joy at the sight of your savior. Whenever Crewel scolded you or increased your training hours, he would save you from Crewel like a savior angel.

“Excuse me to interrupt, but Boss wants the little imp.” said Sam.

“Huh, now? Why does he want Y/n?” Crewel asked with a grimace.

"Who knows. By the way, get it while you're at it.I brought the information you requested.”

He handed Crewel a package. Meanwhile, you escaped at the first opportunity you had and went to Crowley, the head of the mafia.

-

“Looks like Crewel gave you one of his wonderful exams again, hmm?” The masked man asked, as he poured a tea for you.

"Yes sir."

Dire Crowley is the head of one of the largest organizations in the Underworld and also your protector who took you in when you were ten years old. You had always wondered how such a goofy and slightly weird guy became the head of the mafia.

Once, when you asked Crewel sensei about this, he told you these words.“If you only knew what that man did… Anyway, just be careful with him. He is…the devil himself.”

“You've been with me for a long time, Y/n, and the time has finally come.”He handed you a file.

“Congratulations, you are now an official member of the mafia and here is your first target.”

You started examining the file.

“This man was a traitor we had been looking for a long time. He poses a great danger to the organization. I want you to get rid of him.”

———

Current time

You were on something soft. You opened your eyes slowly. You felt a pain in your shoulder.

“Jamil! Y/n woke up!”

You heard a joyful familiar voice. The owner of the voice hugged you with joy. Kalim. You tried to comprehend the events in a dazed manner.

That's right, Floyd shot you last and you fainted from blood loss while running with all your strength. And apparently Scarabia had caught you.

“Oh Y/n you really had me worried. If you only knew how scared I was when I saw you like that, shot and unconscious."

You didn't reply. You just stared blankly at Kalim.

“Yes Y/n you had us all so worried.” Jamil entered the room. He had a black agenda in his hand and was wearing a suit. Now if you look carefully, Kalim was also wearing a suit. The welds of weight on his wrists jingled as he turned to survey the room. Oh you were chained.

“Is it allowed to keep such things in the hotel room?” You said.

“Oh, I'm sorry, we brought the silver ones with us because we came here in a hurry, but don't worry, we have gold ones at home.” said Kalim innocently.

You loved Kalim, his sweet and pure nature prevented you from venting your anger on him. You gritted your teeth. You looked at Jamil.

“Kalim, you better go now, you need to greet our guests for the meeting. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes." Jamil dragged the manager out by force.

“But Jamil-“

“Don't worry, nothing will happen. They are both injured and the whole hotel is full of guards.”

After Kalim left, a grin appeared on Jamil's face that you had never seen before. A familiar and yet disturbing grin.

“Congratulations, you are truly someone who lives up to the title of the boss's right-hand man. Sorry, his former right-hand man. You know Kalim was so panicked it was hard for me to calm him down. Especially when you suddenly disappeared he stopped working, coming to meetings…You owe me for this.”

You didn’t answer. You knew he was trying to provoke you.

“I wonder what would have happened if those documents had never arrived? Would the boss throw you aside? Would you be his heir after all the training you received?”

You tried to hold yourself back.

"Who knows." You replied.

A burst of laughter broke out from Jamil. He approached you.

“Oh, you are really tough. It's not easy to break you, but don't worry, we have plenty of time. The doctor will be coming soon to change your bandages, so don't be a hassle. I notified room service for you to have breakfast.”

And he left the room.

You laughed. Oh apparently Crewel Sensei was right. Training would really come in handy.

-

Once you were free of the chains, you got into the bed and waited for the doctor.Indeed, as Jamil said, the doctor came about fifteen minutes later.You quietly waited for him to approach you on your bed.

“Excuse me, Y/n-san are you awake?”

You didn't reply. Just as the doctor was bending over to lift the blanket on you, you jumped on top of them and gagged them with one of the sheets before they could scream. You undressed the poor doctor while they were struggling in chains made for you.

“I'm sorry, but you know I have to run away. And my clothes are a little off for that.”

You were careful not to attract the suspicion of the guards as you left the room dressed as a doctor. You started walking away from there with normal steps.

Indeed, as Jamil said, there was protection everywhere. As you were about to get into the elevator, you noticed the guards talking on the phone, then they all hurriedly dispersed. Apparently room service had found the poor doctor.

You changed direction. You walked calmly but quickly and pulled the fire alarm. And as you wish, chaos broke out.

While people were screaming and running in panic, you mixed in with them. And you finally reached the exit.

When you left the hotel, you hailed a taxi with the money you got from the poor doctor.

“To the amusement park,” you said to the driver.

Then you called that number with the phone you got from the doctor.

“Hey it's me Y/n. It's time to pay me back. Be at the amusement park. Don't forget to bring a vehicle and weapon with you. You better be on time, Snow White."

-

“Looks like your training has paid off, Crewel.”The masked man said in a sarcastic tone.

“It's truly incredible, but it's a shame that such a person is a traitor.” said Trein as he caressed Lucius.

“Well, talent is in their blood, after all, he was like that too when he was young.” said Vargas.

“I have work to do. With your permission,” Crewel stood up sharply.

“Oh Crewel, don't be angry-“ but before Crowley could finish his sentence, Crewel spoke angrily.

“You hate it the most when we talk about him. Didn't you declare him a traitor to take over, and completely erased Ramshackle from the mafia? And now you're sacrificing them for your executives."

Crowley smiled under his mask.

“Crewel Crewel, are you really going to play innocent? You were the one who gave them those documents. If they didn't know anything, maybe we would still be living in peace. But no problem. After this game, we will return to our peaceful life again."

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst #twst #yandere kalim al asim #kalim al asim #twst kalim #twisted wonderland kalim #jamil viper #twst jamil #twisted wonderland jamil #yandere jamil viper #yandere jamil x reader #twisted wonderlad mafia au

[ambcass]

Can I request Bruce Wayne x kid reader, where the reader is really shy and hardly talks to anyone, and when they meet someone new, the reader hides behind Bruce's leg. The reader is clinging to Bruce, like a lost puppy, but at some point Bruce has to leave and the reader has a full on melt down, crying and screaming. Trying to find Bruce, the reader somehow escapes the manor and tries to look for Bruce, but they get overwhelmed with the people and the cars. Luckily Gordon finds the reader and recognizes, so he calls Bruce. Later Bruce and the whole Family arrive, and Bruce never leaves the reader ever again.

OMG I ACIDENTALLY DELETED AN INBOX!! IF U MADE THE PERCY JACKSON ONE IM SORRYYY :(((

anyways request pls :)

.

.

.

.

"And who is this cutie?" a woman wearing a red dress points to you. You were on Bruce's side, lost in a trance before you heard that woman address you. You quickly hid behind Bruce and peeked your head out. Bruce looked behind him and smiled.

"This is ___. They're a bit shy but once you get to know them, they are a bundle of joy." The woman stepped closer and extended her arms.

"Awe, come give me a hug," she said in a warm tone. You backed up, furrowing your eyebrows. Bruce stopped her and started explaining how you didn't come from a great environment before meeting him. The woman pouted but respected your past.

"Poor baby...I'm so sorry," She placed her hands on her chest. "I'll leave you two alone now. I'll see you later Mr. Wayne" She winked at Bruce and then left. You came out of hiding, you held on to his hand. Bruce gave you the "okay" signal, meaning that he was done with this gala, and it was finally time to go home. The two of you walked out of the "palace" and headed to the limo. The windows rolled down, and Alfred was there to greet the two of you. Bruce opened the door and you leaped into the car.

"Alfred, Alfred! Can we please, please, please go home" you whined and shook your legs. Bruce got in the car and closed the door. Alfred giggled and started driving away.

"I take it that your trip was fun?"

"Not even. We have so much in common, the two of us hate galas," Bruce answered and turned towards you. "Isn't that right,___?" You nodded. For you, the ride took so long that you started falling asleep. Your eyes couldn't keep open and eventually, you closed your eyes and fell asleep.

Once you arrived back to the manner, Bruce carried you back. Placing you on your bed until you wake up. Waking up, your vision slowly started to clear up as you walked out of your room.

"B-bruce...," you called out. "Bruce! Where are you?" your heart started to beat faster and faster. You ran down the stairs calling for Bruce and Alfred but no response. Walking back and forth, running in circles through the manner.

You knew it was a bad idea, but you did it anyway. You left the manner to search for him, the both of them. Ran down the hill, heading for the streets, cars were running at 50 mph but you didn't care that you were going to get hurt. You just wanted your dad.

At this point, you're out of breath. You sat down on the side of the crosswalk. Tears flood your eyes. You start hyperventilating. Breathe. You told yourself. Breathe. That's what Dad would want. You felt a tap and jolted up.

"___? What are you doing here? Where's your dad?" A guy in his mid-40s looked down at you. It was Commissioner Gordan. You went to give Gordan a big hug as you sobbed in his arms.

"W-where's Bruce. I can't find him!" you cried out. Gordan stroked your hair, trying to calm you down.

"It's going to be okay, we'll find him...I'll give him a call, alright?" His soft expression made you realize that you were safe. Safe from everything from the outside world. Godan gave Bruce a call and minutes later he arrived. The moment you saw him, you ran towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

"What are you doing out of the house?" Bruce asked. You did nothing but ramble countlessly about how much you missed him and Alfred. A person emerges out of the car and speaks,

"Hey sweetie, what can your big brother do to help you feel better?" Your oldest brother, Dick Grayson came out from the car. You took a look in the car and saw the other three. Jason, Tim, and Damian.

"The others are gonna arrive at the manner later. Meanwhile how about us four spend time with our little sister. How does that sound?" Dick asked and you nodded. You entered the car and Bruce followed.

"After today, I won't ever leave my little girl at home alone ever again."

#ambcassspeaks #ambcasswrites #bruce wayne #batman #batman x reader #batman comics #kid reader #bruce wayne x kid reader #batsis #batfam #nightwing #red robin #robin #red hood #jason todd #batfamily #dc dr #alfred pennyworth #tim drake #damian wayne #timothy wayne #timothy drake #red robin dc #batbrothers #bat bros #fluff #no romance #platonic #comics #dc comics

[ghostssimp]

Can’t Kill A Ghost

Ugh, this sucks, but I'll leave it here. My motivation to write is at zero. There's none of it. Also I'm thinking about writing for other fandoms too, so I can take a little break from COD, because I have no motivation for it.

The mission you went on, got south, so you and Ghost had to run. Terrorists got the information of the two of you being there and you barely got your heads out. You got shot in your shoulder in the action. The two of you got to the nearest safehouse, which was an hour and a half distant away. Good thing Ghost found a motorbike and the two of you rushed away. The pain in your shoulder didn’t help, but you had to hold onto the muscular man, to be close to him as you escaped.

Soon, the two of you reached the safe house. It took a good 40 minutes, but you managed it. When Ghost got off the motorbike, his eyes met yours in a hint of worry. The pain in your shoulder made you feel weak as adrenaline wore out and you felt the pain more and more flowing through you.

He helped you down and, to your surprise, he took you in his arms. Here's the deal, you like your Lieutenant, you like him a lot and moments like this are fatal to you, because you think that there are just seconds away for you to blow up. There were a few times that he looked at you he showed something to you, a little feeling in his eyes that wanted to betray him and show emotion, but he always found an excuse and turned away. You're glad for that. You can't bond. You're not allowed. You can't lose anyone else in your life.

Ghost put you down on a couch and rushed to find first aid. You grimace at the pain and lean a little on your good shoulder. "You know Lt., I can walk. I'm shot in my shoulder, not my leg." He walked back getting everything he needed. "Shut up and take your shirt off." His eyes looked at the wound. "Don't. You can't lift up your arm. I'll cut the fabric." You look at him through your lashes.

"And what will I wear around?" He grumbles under his breath something that you didn't catch and already rips the shirt from your sleeve to your shoulder with, scissors.

"You'll walk around naked." His eyes didn't even look up at you, but were fixed on your wound. The good thing is that, because you didn't know how to react. There were a few minutes of silence as he started to patch you up and you hissed when he put alcohol on your wound.

"I don't think that's appropriate, Lieutenant." He was silent for some time. His breathing was steady and deep, making you concentrate on it instead of the pain and the needle that is now going through your skin. 

He finished and started to bandage you up. "Why do you never call me Ghost?" It took you by surprise, and you flinched at the question. "I uh, I'm keeping it professional." Lame excuse.

"Banshee, give me a proper answer." You glance at him. "Well, this is also a proper one." Your heart is beating. You never called him Ghost. You know his name is Simon Riley. You never said it out loud. It was always Lieutenant or Sir. He was finished and, finally, the two of you locked your eyes. "Thank you Sir." He's staring down at you. He leans over to you, just inches from your ear.

"Banshee. Y/N. Say my name, just once. I want to hear it." Your breath hitched. You've never seen him like this. You've never heard him talk like this. You didn't know how to react.

"I just... I can't sir."

"Tell me why then."

You pull back to look at him. His eyes looked ready for anything that you would say to him. It is full of emotions that you can't read. His hands dipped the couch beneath you as you sat between them. He dominated over you. It made you want to tell him everything. For a second there, you were hesitating.

"Soap is always bugging me. Why did I get called Banshee? Banshee is a mythological being that brings death. Lt. It screams and you know that death is coming. Everytime in my lifetime I sad the nane of a loved one person, they end up dead. I bring death anywhere I go, I am fucking death." His eyes shifted over you. You felt your heart pounding faster with each second you were this close to him.

I died a long time ago, baby. Say my name." his hand found place on your tight, gripping it and giving it a squeeze. Your stomach flipped and heat started to wash over you. His fingers sneaked around and found a way in your trousers. They pushed away panties and he dipped in.

"Say it. Y/N. Say it." a moan escaped your lips as he worked you over. "I can't sir."

He stopped and leaned over your ear, his mask touching your cheek as his raspy voice ringed over.

"You can't kill a ghost."

#call of duty #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost x you #modern warfare imagine #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you

[loaffofbred]

Something about Qfoolish...

something has bugged me always with qfoolish's lore is, why did the federation pick him to be an employee? its easy to say to ' manipulate ' him, but evidently they aren't pulling anything to truly control his actions. we all assume cucurucho's "you are unique" to be complete bullshit, but what if it wasn't? it has always irked me how the federation first hired qfoolish, it was to investigate mr. mustard's disappearance, a disappearance that only the feds couldve known, and a disappearance that, in the grand scheme of things, they dont give a shit about. the most easiest explanation is to see his dedication, how far can qfoolish go for the friends he cares about, and if they can take advantage of that in the long run.

the trial mission was a mission to see how far he can go, but this time, for the federation. how far would he go to sell out his friends? how easy it is for him to do so? all of this goes back to why was qfoolish picked? why did the federation even announced mr. mustard's disappearance? why even after qpac and qmike's escape, did the federation still kept tabs on the mr. mustard case? the real question is, was he picked by chance, or by choice?

all of this has been piling on even more as we see the federation workers slowly caring for him, to the point where he gets a second floor, and his suggestion of a break room actually happening! even more so, special agent 40 indicating that higher ups are satisfied and noticing his work, which is a huge progress to his plan. hes proving to the federation his capabilities, and most of all, his patience and dedication. what really took me off guard as we go through qcellbit's POV is the book that qfoolish wrote answering the survey cucurucho asked him in a safe of a federation worker, this was when a fed worker was conspiring to go against cucurucho's wishes and help the residents crash the meeting. why was it there? is this an indication he was picked by choice? is this a hint that its no coincidence qfoolish was picked to be a worker? after all, lets remember, qfoolish HAD NO CHOICE. he was forced to be a worker by the feds orders with a book simply saying "yes or yes :)". he was not allowed to back out no matter how much he talked about it with qjaiden and qleo, he had no choice from the very beginning.

for me, i think qfoolish has more significance to the federation than simply being a resident on the island. after all, he was the only resident and now worker that work for the federation with no choice, both qfit and qcellbit willingly worked with them and made the first move from the moment of their employment. theres something about qfoolish, and i hope it is lore behind not only his background, but his relationship with the federation

anyways thats all my ramble :)

#qsmp #qsmp theory #qsmp foolish #qsmp federation #qsmp cucurucho #qsmp rambles #rambling

[swap-and-possessions]

Fugitive in the Area

After a cop’s horn blared behind the brothers, they slowed their car to a stop on the side of the road. The wheels rolled on leaves and gravel until the vehicle stopped. The older brother, Nate,  was careful not to drive past the speed limit after their dip on the lake. He didn’t hit a deep or someone’s car. It’s a head-scratcher as to why the officer stopped them. He couldn’t reach far yet, but he still scanned through his memories and found no reason to get stopped by an officer. He won’t know why unless he asked the officer tapping the car’s window. 

Nate rolled the windows down. A jacked brown-uniformed officer greeted them. Despite his towering figure, he was the first to apologize for flagging them without glaring reasons. Nate looked at his arms and realized they were bigger up close. It’s as thick as his head, and the officer could easily pop his head if desired. He then looked at his younger brother, Jon, in the backseat. His face was pale, and it felt like there was something he wanted to say. Nate looked sharped into his eyes. He told him to shut the fuck up without words leaving his mouth.

Nate returned to the officer and asked, “What seems to be the problem?”

“There’s no problem. I’m just doing patrols, and I’m currently investigating a particular incident in the area.”

“Should we be concerned?” Nate’s throat grew drier by the second, and sweat beaded down from his temples. One wrong word, and he’s fucked.

“Oh, yes. I assume you’ve heard of the news about the serial body jacker in the area? This guy possesses the bodies of unsuspecting victims, mostly tourists, and steals all their belongings.”

Shit! The officer knows about me. Although, he got one thing wrong. Nate doesn’t steal his victim’s belongings. He’s far too civilized for that. Nate tried his best to regain his composure despite the heavy beats of his heart. “That sounds awful. My brother and I recently moved to this town, so we don’t know anything about recent events yet. Thanks for the heads up, though. I’ll try to keep an eye on and keep us safe.”

Nate was about to roll up the windows when the officer stopped him in his attempts to end the interrogation early. “How about your friend in the backseat? What does he have to say?”

The officer asked to roll down the backseat windows, and Nate couldn’t help but comply. His heart is beating fast as this is the closest he’s been to getting arrested. He looked around for escape routes to run or what weapon he could use to disorient the officer. Nothing seemed possible, given how strong and fast the officer looked. His possessing powers wasn’t a viable option either. He possessed this body an hour prior, and it’d take at least three days before he could take over someone’s body again. The one thing left to do was look back at this body’s younger brother and hope to the high heavens that he doesn’t blab out. 

But Jon did. He blabbed everything.

“Officer! It’s my older brother! I saw him get possessed while I was swimming by the lake. I captured a shot with my waterproof camera while he took over my older brother’s body.” Jon showed the officer a picture of a 40-year-old man where half of his body disappeared inside the unconscious Nate. 

SHIT! FUCK! FUCK! Nate was trapped. By the time he could open the other door at the front seat, the officer could’ve already grabbed him by the ankle and shot him with an anti-possession bullet. There’s no escape, thanks to his younger brother.

“Officer, please. I co-could explain.” Larry, the man possessing Nate, said with a wavering voice. 

The officer laughed. His booming laughter filled the forest and scared the woodland critters. Larry looked at him with confusion, and so did the pale-looking Jon. Something must be wrong because the officer could have shot him several seconds ago. Larry remained in Nate’s body, and the longer it went, the faster Jon’s heartbeat. Something was wrong, and Jon soon understood that the situation was not in his favor. 

“Both of your faces are fucking deluxe. Relax your butt. I’m one of you,” the officer said, with the last part told directly at Larry’s direction. The officer blinked, and his eyes shifted to a bright shade of blue – the possessor’s eye color. He blinked back, and it was acorn brown again. The difference means the officer is possessed. “Although, are you the thieving serial body jacker? That asshole’s alerting everyone in the state about our kind’s presence.” 

“No. I assure you, I am not.” 

“I assumed as much. That asshole’s modus operandi often involves wealthy foreign tourists.” The officer patted Larry on his shoulders and gave him a smile. “I don’t want to take more of your time. A bit of advice, though. Don’t forget to erase that twerp’s memories before you leave that sexy guy’s body.”

“Sure. Thanks for the advice. I’ll do better next time.”

With that, the officer returned to his vehicle and drove away. Larry looked at the backseat, snatched the disposable waterproof camera, then chucked it into the ravine in front of their car. The officer said to erase his younger brother’s memories. Hah! As if he would do that after his stunt. It’d be worse to leave memories of how he’ll desecrate his older brother’s body. 

“You thought you won for a second there. I won’t lie. I thought that was the last of me. It is a good thing fate’s working in my favor. As for you,” Larry looked at his prey. All the colors in the world were flushed out of his system. His eyes were close to tears, but whatever strength he had left prevented the waterworks from flowing out. “What you did demands punishment. Do you think so too?”

Jon’s voice rasped. It’s like a massive stone clogged his throat. His kind and tender older brother was the sweetest and most caring guy he’s ever known. This – this man before him who’s ready to bite his throat was not his brother. It’s a demon assuming his face. This facade asked him a question, but his voice was failing him.

“Answer me!” Larry shouted.

“Ye- yes!”

“Yes, what!?”

“Yes. I need punishment.”

“Good. Now, be a good lad and suck my cock.”

[Read the NSFW continuation at Patreon]

#Possession #Male Possession #Male Body Possession #Body Possession

[grace-writes-shit]

I Found You (Bucky Barnes X Rogers!Reader)

Words: 4.1k

Warnings/Themes: Angst! Character death, abduction, torture, human experimentation, allusions to PTSD, depression, thoughts of wanting to be unalived

Characters/Pairings: 40s!Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Reader, Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter (Mentioned), Howling Commandos (Mentioned)

misspygmypie asked:

Hello 🥰 I saw your request post and figured I'd send something in. I've had this idea for years, and it would be fun to read it!

You know when Steve finds and rescues Bucky at Hydra in the first movie? What if it's reader who they're rescuing and Hydra did some experiments on. Maybe she's Steves sister and they wanted to get to him through her and obviously Bucky has a thing for her lol 🥰

A/N: Sincerest apologies for taking so long to get this up. I've been taking on extra duties at work since my partner got fired and things have been super crazy since it's end of quarter. it also hasn't been the best for my mental health, so writing had been a struggle. probably why this ended up being so dang angsty. Sorry. Adulting seriously sucks. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Rain pattered gently on the canvas walls of the medical tent, while boots splashed noisily in the mud it created. Outside of the tent, she could hear the daily drills going on, soldiers training, and officers shouting commands. Her own fellow nurses milled about the tent, tending to wounded soldiers or doing other daily chores. It was a quiet day for the 107th Infantry Regiment.

“Alright, Private Richards, try not to go sticking your hand into random holes again. I doubt the next rabbit will be so kind.” Nimble fingers began tidying up the bloodied cotton balls and gauze used to clean and wrap the boy’s hand. 18 years old, you would think he’d know better than to stick his hand in holes in the ground.

“Yes, First Lieutenant, ma’am…” The boy grabbed his jacket and sulked out of the med tent. She laughed to herself as she watched him go. Knowing him, he’d be back soon enough. Not unlike his Sergeant, who wandered in a few moments later, a lazy smirk on his lips.

James Buchanan Barnes. Or as she’s known for most of her life, Bucky. The charming Sergeant was her older brother’s best friend, having been around since she was small. They were all thick as thieves, hardly seen without one of the others.

It may or may not have been a blessing to constantly have Bucky around. He was kind, funny, and took good care of her and her brother. However, other boys and men didn’t seem too eager to get to know her with him hanging at her shoulder. It’s even worse now with Steve being triple the size he was a year ago.

Occasionally, a brave soul will strike up the nerve to enter the medical tent and ask her out to the nearest town for a drink and a dance. But Bucky had uncanny timing. He always popped up just as she was about to answer.

“Now, a pretty face like that shouldn’t look so angry.” A voice sounded in her ear. A startled gasp escaped her and her hands fumbled the tools she had been organizing. Bucky caught a pair of forceps before they could hit the floor.

“James! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” She admonished him with a firm smack on the shoulder. He chuckled and rubbed the sore spot.

“Ow, careful there, doll. Gonna take my arm off with that strength.”

“Oh please, it’ll take a lot more than that to get rid of you.” She spun out of his reach when he tried to grab her arm. A small smile graced her lips as she made a final spin to face him. “Did you need something, Bucky?”

“What, I can’t come see my best girl just because I want to?

 “I know your troop is supposed to be running the course right now, so no you can’t just come see me because you want to,” she said while gesturing for him to sit on the cot in the corner or her station. “Now, what mess did you get yourself into to be sent here?”

“You know me so well, Darlin’,” he whispered wistfully, smiling up at her with those big blues. He wore a dopey smile as he presented his cut left hand. She pursed her lips and tried to fight the blush rising to her cheeks. Damn him.

Stepping closer, she took his calloused hand into her softer one and observed the cut. It wasn’t too deep but still needed to be cleaned and dressed.

“What happened?” She remained in between his legs as she prepped some alcohol and gauze. His right hand toyed with the fabric of her skirt. With a narrowed look, she smacked the back of it.

“Just a climbing exercise; a nail was sticking out of the wall and caught my hand.” His voice was hushed as she worked. She hummed and began cleaning the wound. He hissed and jerked his hand back. With eyes rolling, the nurse grabbed his hand more firmly.

“You big baby.”

“Your big baby.” She smacked his arm again.

<><>

Gunshots fired all around her, men shouting and screaming. Some in pain, some as a battle cry. But all she could think about was how gentle Bucky’s hands had been in hers. And how much she wished it was his hands on her right now.

But larger, rougher hands now tore at her. Pushing and pulling. She screamed from behind her gag and her hands strained against the restraints. Black boots kicked out at her captors as she fought like a feral cat. She twisted this way and that, anything to loosen their grip on her. But against four burly men, she didn’t stand a chance.

She guessed they had gotten tired of her struggling because a blunt weapon struck the back of her head and she fell limp to the ground.

It was cold. Colder than she had ever been. The air was damp, making the ache in her lungs worse. Blurry eyes peeled open. The room she sat in was dark, only a green-tinted light on the other side of the room illuminated the space. Its murky light cast deep shadows around the room that seemed to move. Her head lolled to the side as one shadow moved closer.

Ah, not shadows. Men. Hydra.

“Good evening, Miss Rogers.” His voice was heavily accented and polite. Nothing like what you’d imagine a torturer or murderer to sound like. “I am honored to have Captain America’s sister as my guest.”

She groaned. The gag was no longer wrapped around her mouth, but her tongue felt like lead. Thoughts struggled to focus and grasp what this man was saying.

“Such a shame, a First Lieutenant, Chief Nurse, so much promise in your future. But because of your brother, you’ll never get to meet that future. We have another one much better suited for you.”

His words floated through her mind but didn’t stick. She was a nurse… She helps people. Why was she here? There were soldiers at camp that needed her. Bucky needed her…

“..ucky…” She slurred, drool dribbling from the corner of her mouth. Her bones felt heavier than lead and her muscles were like the slop served at breakfast. The shadows at the edge of her vision danced ever closer.

“Don’t worry, my dear, you’ll forget the pain soon.”

<><> 

Bucky tore through the camp, Steve hot on his heels. His blue eyes roved over the multitude of bodies and injured, searching for that familiar head of hair. Always done up so prettily. Like last week when she was bandaging up his hand. Her nails were painted red, and her hair was twisted up into a flawless bun. Her red-painted lips smiled warmly at him. Fear gripped his heart at the idea that he would never see that smile again.

“Bucky, stop!” Steve clamped a hand on his best friend’s shoulder, forcing the Sergeant to a stop. It wouldn’t do his sister any good if they lost their heads. As much as he wanted to tear the whole world apart until his sister was safe, he knew that reckless actions could get her killed. If she wasn’t dead already…

“She’s – she’s gone, Steve. Where is she!?” Bucky spun to face Steve, his eyes wide and slightly crazed. He can’t lose her. He never got to take her on a date. Never got to hold her close and confess how deeply and fervently he love her. Bucky bit down on his lip to stop its wobble. He can’t cry, not yet. Not while there’s still a possibility she’s out there.

“I know. I know, Buck. We’ll get her back. No matter what.”

Footsteps rushed up to the pair. A soldier stopped in front of them, slightly out of breath. “A-a letter for you, sir. It-it has the hydra insignia.”

Upon reading the contents, Steve and Bucky took off to Colonel Phillips' tent. The older man sat at a desk, signing letters to the families of the deceased and missing. Steve hardly gave the man time to put his pen down before requesting a team to rescue the captured. He decided to leave out the fact that he was only doing this to get his sister back.

“I understand the heroic need to save the day, but those who have been taken prisoner are far behind enemy lines and we don’t have the manpower or resources to conduct a rescue mission.” Phillips’ response was expected, but it didn’t stop Bucky’s jaw from clenching or his hands from balling into fists.

The Colonel looked at the two young men standing in front of him. He knew exactly why they wanted to go. Only a fool would think that Captain America wouldn’t move heaven and earth for the younger Rogers. An even bigger fool wouldn’t see the lovesick look every time James Barnes was near her, or the way his gaze follows her as she walks across the base.

Phillips sighed heavily, digging through a stack of letters yet to be signed. First Lieutenant Y/N Rogers. MIA.

Steve took the letter with shaking hands. Bucky felt a tear roll down his cheek.

They were dismissed and the two trudged away. A silent look was exchanged and they agreed. They would go after her with or without permission.

<><> 

“…name… Rogers…” Chapped lips mumbled her name over and over again. A tired mind determined to hold on to herself. Don’t forget. Don’t forget. “…Y/N… Rogers…”

“Y/N?” A voice hissed.

“Y/N/N?” A different voice, closer this time.

“Steve! She’s here!” The buckles around her wrists and ankles fell off one by one. Warm, calloused hands that she dreamed about cupped her face. She groaned and willed the fog from her brain. These hands. Bucky’s hands.

“Buck…” She croaked, red lipstick smudged, and once pristine hair hanging limply around her face. His smile brightened the shadows in her vision. Steve had joined them and helped her sit up.

“Hey, doll. What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?” Giving her a watery smile, he pushed the hair from her face. The cheap line earned him a weak chuckle.

“Oh, what any girl does in a place like this,” she responded. Together, the two men helped her to her feet. The room pitched suddenly, her legs giving out under her. Whatever they had given her made her legs weak.

“Guess you make me a little weak in the knees,” she joked as Bucky swept her into his arms. She tucked her head into his neck, leaning heavily into him. Steve carefully led the way out, checking around corners and taking out any enemy soldiers that they crossed paths with.

Eventually, the trio made it out of the now-burning building. A mass of freed soldiers met them and together the company fought their way back to their camp. Bucky cradled her close to his chest the entire time. He stuck close to Steve, letting him take the punches. Steve didn’t mind.

For almost two weeks she was laid up in a cot in the medical tent. It was strange, in the years that she had been an army nurse, she had been the one giving care. She had never been the patient. And the patient of her subordinates, no less.

Her closer friends teased her that she was a horrible patient. Their teasing helped ease the residual anxiety and adrenaline from her ordeal. But what had really helped, was Bucky’s constant presence. During meal time and recreation time, he would come to visit her in the medical tent. Steve would drop by as well, but it was mostly Bucky.

As the days passed, Bucky seemed more and more nervous, however. Like he had something to say, just on the tip of his tongue. Sometimes, when he maybe thought she wasn’t looking, she caught him looking guilty. She hoped beyond hope that he didn’t blame himself for what had happened.

“You’re cleared to return to light duty, First Lieutenant,” Second Lieutenant Fredricks said with a smile.

The first few days of light duty were spent organizing and assisting. Then after a week, she was cleared to begin training again. Nurses didn’t necessarily need to do the drills the men did, but it didn’t mean they couldn’t. She also preferred to stay in shape and to keep her skills from going rusty.

Growing up with her brother being bullied, Y/N learned how to defend not only herself but Steve, as well. The elder Rogers sibling didn’t care for her fighting but he did appreciate that in a pinch, she could defend herself.

In the early morning, dressed in a pair of trousers and a simple shirt, Y/N makes her way to the track. A run should be light enough.

She could make out the tall frames of Steve and Bucky amongst the other men getting ready for their morning run. Bucky smiled as she approached.

“Hey, how’s it going? You sure you’re okay to be running?” Bucky brushed his hand over hers when she stopped in front of him. The touch made her stomach flutter but she smiled confidently at him.

“Actually, I’ve never felt better. I’m tired of being cooped up in the med tent for so long.” She bent to tighten her boots’ laces. Bucky shrugged and patted her shoulder, teasingly telling her to not fall behind. She scoffed and took off after the troops in a light jog.

Steve and Bucky kept pace with her, both worrying she might become too tired and collapse. Their hovering and not-so-subtle glances did not go unnoticed by her. Irritation settled quickly in her bones. She wasn’t some fragile flower. Just because something bad happened to her doesn’t mean she going to break at any moment.

Spurred by anger, her legs moved faster on their own accord. Steve glanced at his best friend as they sped up to match. Soon, the three of them were overtaking the other troops. Bucky was breathing heavily as they passed the frontman, now in a full sprint.

“W-wait!” He panted as the two Rogers siblings were now racing down the path. How was she running that fast!? How wasn’t she tired? Her smaller frame broke past Steve, who was now struggling to keep up.

The younger Rogers didn’t even notice the concerned and shocked looks she was receiving. The wind rushing in her ears and the trees blurring in her vision was all she could focus on. She felt like she was flying; her feet barely touching the ground. She felt free.

She burst into the clearing at the end of their running trail, the morning sun warming her wind-chilled skin. The grass kicked up as she skidded to a halt. A laugh erupted from her, her head light with adrenaline and awe. Then reality sunk in.

Bucky and Steve broke through the tree line a few minutes later.

“Y/N!”

She turned to look at them, her brows scrunched together and lips forming a thin line.

“They did this to me…” She murmured, gazing turning down at her clenched fists. She had thought she was feeling so good because she survived Hydra’s torment. How quickly this revelation brought her down. They poked and prodded, injected, and dissected. They had changed her.

“Doll?” Bucky approached her slowly, hands out in front of him. Seeing her lip wobble had his heart shattering in him. Throwing caution to the wind, he wrapped his arms around her. She buried her face in his chest, drowning her sobs in the rough fabric of his shirt. Her brother stood beside them, rubbing his hand over her shoulders.

“I’ve got ya, sweets. I got ya,” Bucky muttered into her hair. “We’re gonna figure this out. It’ll be okay.”

Lord, he hoped he was telling the truth.

<><> 

Months went by as she adjusted to her new abilities. After she discovered her inhuman speed, she quickly learned she was inhumanly strong. Not as strong as her brother, but definitely stronger than any other man in the camp.

She began training with the men, easily laying anyone flat during sparring. Even Steve struggled against her. While he surpassed her in strength, she made it up in speed and agility. She had been given the moniker of Lady Liberty once the higher-ups found out.

But despite the usefulness of these abilities. She couldn’t help but feel violated. Every night she woke up in a cold sweat, dreaming of their cold instruments and icy laughter. More than once she ended up in the clearing from months before.

Each time she made it out there, Bucky wasn’t far behind. He held her as he had back then, whispering comforting words and stroking her hair. This night began no differently than the others. They sat in the middle of the clearing, the half-moon illuminated above their heads.

“I’m sorry, Bucky… You don’t have to come out here with me every night.” She sniffled, wiping her tears from her cheeks. She was settled in between his stretched-out legs, her own draped over one of his thighs. He shook his head and sighed.

“I don’t mind, Doll. Really.” Soft lips pressed against her temple. “Unless you tell me to go, I won’t leave your side. I can’t.”

Shining eyes looked up into his baby blues. She had never felt so safe and protected as she did in Bucky’s arms. Even though she could easily kick his butt in a fight, she knew he would fight tooth and nail for her. And she would burn down the world for him.

There was no doubt in her mind as she pressed her lips to his. He sighed against her as he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer by the waist. Everything clicked into place with this kiss. They had been dancing around this thing between them for years, neither willing to take the leap and possibly lose what they already had.

But the feeling of her lips on his, the taste of her on his tongue had him bitterly regretting not doing this sooner. How many kisses could they have had? How many dates and late nights have they missed? He sure had a lot of time to make up.

“I love you, Y/N.” His breath fanned across the skin of her neck as his kiss-swollen lips brushed along it.

“I love you, James.”

<><> 

Over the next two years, the Howling Commandos slowly but surely made their way through the Hydra bases. First Lieutenant Rogers led alongside her brother, Captain Rogers. Not only as extra muscle, but as a nurse, and occasionally, spy. Bucky didn’t like the idea of his girl being ogled by slimy nazi men, but she convinced him that no one would expect a woman to be a super soldier.

She would infiltrate their meetings as a piece of eye candy, acquiring information as needed and then arresting the men as she saw fit.

But this particular mission didn’t require revealing dresses or sultry makeup. Rather, she wore a winter coat and combat boot with reinforced soles. The speed that she ran quickly ate through nearly all of her shoes.

The Commandos were all situated on a cliff overlooking another with a set of train tracks. They were waiting on the train carrying Doctor Zola. Glove-covered hands clenched at her side. Doctor Zola. One of the men who had turned her into this. Turned her into a weapon.

Bucky’s heavy hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her to his side. His soft lips brushed against her temple.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he reassured. “We go in, kick some ass, and then get out. Easy.”

She chuckled and pressed a kiss to his waiting lips. The other men had the decency to look away from the couple.

“Alright, lovebirds, let’s get a move on.” Steve’s voice called out from the edge of the cliff.

She scoffed at her brother and kissed her sergeant once more. “See you on the other side, tiger.”

<><> 

Things were going south very quickly. Hydra had more gun power than she had thought. A huge man with bigger guns than himself stood in the doorway to their car. His guns glowed blue as they powered up.

Steve shoved both his sister and Bucky behind him, holding up his shield. The blast had her teeth rattling in her skull, her body flying back further than the boys. The impact of her head hitting the metal floor caused stars to dance in her vision.

She could barely comprehend the cold rush of air from the massive hole in the side of the train. And before she could gather herself, the man was priming another shot, pointed directly at her. Shaking legs tried to bare her weight as she scrambled for her gun.

Bucky had gathered himself faster than her or her brother, so she could only watch as he picked up Steve’s shield and fired a few shots at the enemy. A scream ripped from her throat when blue light shot out at her sergeant.

Bucky went flying, the shield in the other direction. Both the Rogers siblings jumped into action. Steve went for the shield, quickly taking out the other man. She leaped for the hole in the wall of the train that Bucky had flown out of.

Her eyes widened with horror as she gazed upon the man she loved, hanging on for dear life to the crumbling handrails.

“Bucky! Hold on!” She reached out to him, trying to find her footing to get to him and pull him to safety. The look in his eyes was one she had never seen on him before. Blue eyes wide with fear, his mouth poised in a silent scream. And as his fingers brushed against hers, tips barely able to curl around each other, he was gone.

His scream was joined by hers. The image of him falling to his death will forever be ingrained in her mind. It’ll be the last thing on her mind as she goes to sleep and the first one when she wakes up. It’ll be there when she fights her way through Hydra soldiers, and as she sends her fist straight into Johann Schmidt’s ugly, red face.

Steve worried about his sister’s mental health since that day. She had retreated into herself. Long gone was the witty and strong woman he knew. His sister, who had always been so bright, had been replaced by someone who only knew how to fight.

She only spoke to give orders or to communicate during battle. Her words were always clipped and to the point; no room for banter or sarcasm. The icy wall she had built around herself was all to conceal the torment her mind tortured her with.

If only she had been stronger, maybe she wouldn’t have been down for so long. If she had been faster, she could have reached him before he fell. If she had been better, maybe he wouldn’t have died. Every moment was filled with these thoughts. Awake or not. It was all she could think about.

Eventually, she became too tired. She fought with everything she had; Bucky at least deserved that. She wouldn’t give up simply because it would mean he died in vain. However, with each new opponent, she could help but wish that this one would be stronger than her.

No opponent was ever stronger than her. Until now.

It wasn’t a person that she now faced her death with. But a plane filled with explosives. Schmidt was gone, as was the Tesseract. Now, she and her brother faced the cracked windows of the plane. She tried to keep her lip from trembling as Steve spoke with Peggy.

Even if she hadn’t gotten her happy ending, she had wished her big brother would have gotten his. Tear-filled eyes opened when she felt a hand come to rest on hers. Steve’s face was solemn as he spoke.

“I’ve gotta put it in the water.” He was half telling Peggy and half asking for permission from his sister. It wasn’t just his life going down for millions of others, but his little sister’s, too. The siblings shared a weighty look before she nodded.

Lady Liberty listened quietly as Captain America spoke with Agent Carter. No.

Y/N listened brokenheartedly as her big brother said his goodbyes to the woman he loved and who loved him in return.

And as Steve redirected the plane to the icy terrain below, she closed her eyes and imagined the warm hands of her love. His blue fire eyes and easy grin. The feel of his lips against hers. The sound of her name on his tongue.

I’m coming, Bucky.

#my writing #grace writes shit #reader insert #request #angst #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #avenger x reader #tw: mental health #tw: self loathing #tw: depression #tw: ptsd

[boots-with-the-fur-club]

So.. I'm apologizing in advance bc there are a lot I wanna see... Uhm... Here's my list?? Ofc you don't have to do all of them!^^ and any that you do wind up doing take ur time ofc ofc:)

22. Forced to watch

14. Gasping for air

11. Infection

6. Left to bleed

15. Poison

17. Accident

18. Isolation

25. Failed rescue

26. Self-inflicted

32. Begging

30. Dangerous temperatures

38. Hole

39. Speechless

40. Change

I will write more of these prompts but I finished this one and wanted to get it to you!

So this probably isn’t exactly what you meant with self inflicted but I took it literally and ran.

Another another different scenario for No Fun in Fungus

26. Self-inflicted

@the-buzzy-boy-shr00mi3

@daboyau

After Leo is done hacking up a lung from the spores that invaded his airway, he grabs Donnie’s inhaler.

He was right next to him, he couldn’t be far, right?

Leo stands up, movement burdened by his recent fragility. His brothers were probably going to be mad about it afterwards but this is a special circumstance.

He soon sees a shadow in the middle of all the haze. It’s large, so he assumes it must be Raph. Moving forward and seeing the outline of a spiky arm only solidifies the idea in his mind.

“Hey! Raph! Is Donnie with you?”

Suddenly the form is clear.

Too clear.

It’s him.

Future him.

He’s holding Donnie in his arms.

His Donnie.

He’s still.

Too still.

“Wh…..what….what is this…?”

Future him turns, glaring at him with pure, uncut hatred he hasn’t seen since Shredder.

“This? This is our brother. You didn’t get to him in time. We never do.”

Leo takes a shaky step back.

“You’re dead. You can’t be here. D-Donnie can’t be….I’m….I’m still sleep. I have to be.”

Future Leo walks closer.

“The only nightmare is the one we keep living in. No matter what disaster you prevent, the fires you put out, this still happens.”

Leo grips the inhaler extremely tight.

“No! I don’t know what’s happening but….but this isn’t it!”

Future Leo basically shoves Donnie’s body towards Leo.

“YOU LOOK! LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID! What you do! What you always do! You fail. Over and over again.”

Leo’s breathing grows heavy and shaky. He can’t stop looking at Donnie’s face. There’s tear marks and bruises on his neck.

Like there were hands there…..

He choked.

He suffocated.

Leo screams and manages to turn away. Future Leo grabs his face to keep making him look.

“You can try to squirm out of it, but you will never be able to run. You have to learn like that I did. You can’t save any of them. You have to use them for the greater good.”

Leo stops screaming.

“What greater good!? Like how you let Mikey shatter into pieces!?”

“It was the only reason you defeated the Kraang! The only reason Casey is alive!”

“HE IS OUR BABY BROTHER!” Leo sobs, turning the inhaler into a sword.

“He WAS!”

“NO!”

“Just like Donnie WAS!”

Leo grips the weapon tightly, fingers bleeding onto it the harder he does.

“I won’t be you. I won’t!”

“You become me. You always will. There is no escape.”

“Not if I don’t have a future in the first place!” Leo holds the sword to his neck.

Donnie’s body is suddenly forgotten about as future Leo grabs the sword in an attempt to stop him. He uses the prosthetic arm to do it which makes Leo angrier.

Leo manages to bring it harder against his skin. His neck bleeds this time. Why won’t he let him do this!? It’s not like it affects his timeline! It’s a different one!

Does he just want him to suffer like he does!?

“Leo!” Future Leo yells.

“NO! I WON’T LISTEN TO YOU! LET GO!”

“Leo, it’s not real!” Raph yells.

Leo blinks several time.

Raph?

But he was just….

“I-I’m so sorry.”

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #no fun in fungus #rottmnt #2018 tmnt #rise of the tmnt #tw blood #tw sui ideation #tw sui threat #tw sharp objects #rottmnt angst #rise angst #tw sibling death #rise fanfiction

[highladyluck]

Re: Rand going off at the end:

Specifically the way he talks about the polycule feel weird and OOC to me. Getting stuck on which member of the polycule to ‘visit’ and then deciding he loves them all equally, like he hadn’t already come to that conclusion a while ago? Plus no acknowledgement that he’d be having children in the same thought as the polycule.

I’m probably influenced by the knowledge that RJ wrote that ending a long long time ago and Sanderson had to apply it faithfully, but I think even without assuming that bit was written earlier, it would be jarring.

Elayne made her choice about having Rand’s kids without his involvement, but she did that for safety reasons pre-TG and ‘assuming Rand would be dead’ reasons post-TG. Knowing he’s out there and not actually dead and instead joyriding around in disguise would probably be just a little bit irksome. She’s human and perfectly capable of hypocrisy. (Elayne has also done a joyride to avoid her responsibilities, but her joyride was technically to stop climate change, and it’s just a coincidence that she got to run away to the circus.)

I do think that there are good reasons for Rand to go ‘find himself’ post-TG rather than attempting to immediately fulfill his remaining obligations to people. He doesn’t have chronic pain anymore and he doesn’t hear voices anymore and he doesn’t have an impossible high-stakes task that he can’t escape anymore, but he had them before, and those thought patterns and coping mechanisms don’t just stop once they aren’t useful anymore, and also he just switched bodies. Like. He needs therapy even if you think he actually resolved all his past issues (Zen!Rand weirds me out, personally.) He genuinely does need to go work on himself.

But I think the cognitive dissonance comes from the ‘woooo permanent vacation!’ energy of the ending, when everyone else has new burdens and messes to clean up. Rand didn’t do it alone, everybody else should get a break too! And he does deserve the break, but to me it should be a break like the Israelites had after getting out of Egypt: hang out getting your basic needs met long enough to have a version of yourself that doesn’t remember the trauma of your previous generation. For them it took 40 years. I don’t know that it’ll take Rand that long, he’s one person, not a group. But it’s ok if it takes a while. I don’t want unreconstructed Rand raising kids any more than he does.

The thing that bothers me is that the deeper meaning of ‘go lose yourself in the metaphorical desert for a while’ isn’t even hinted at in the tone of the text. It feels superficial and very flippant. Maybe that giddiness/flippancy is a part of Rand’s trauma response- he hasn’t been allowed to be flippant or blow off anything for years- but it isn’t presented as that at all. I feel like I need to do intellectual backflips to make it all vibe with the rest of the series.

#wheel of time #wot book spoilers #a memory of light #a memory of light spoilers #rand al'thor #the ending could be deep and thoughtful but I think it’s stone soup and I just brought all the actually edible things #thanks RJ. gonna eat my delicious soup I made entirely myself that also has a rock in it

[smartwatermagic]

AITA for inviting my archenemy and his (ex?) girlfriend on a date the same time same place?

So some background info, I (17M) joined Ls (M 19 at the time) fight against his ultra neglectful father and extended family when I was 12. It was an easy decision considering they also neglect my mom (∞F) and I was tired of the disrespect she received and is still receiving. I just want to make her proud and get her some acknowledgement for all she did for them through centuries, you see. The fact that the summer camp they run made me and a lot of other kids sleep on the floor also helped.

Long story short, we lost horribly. L got killed at age 23, most of my friends died when two people from the summer camp exploded our main base ship and the neglectful parents™ killed my siblings (admittedly because of a wrong decision I made), twisted my mom's arm to stop fighting and kicked me out of the summer camp for life.

Now, this left me immensely angry at my archenemy, let's call him P (17M) as he was one of the people that blew up our ship, the leader of who we were fighting against, and as I suspect, responsible for Ls death so I swore vengeance to avenge the deaths of the people I loved.

Now the problem is, P had broken up with A (17F) as the amount of power he has scared both of them and he didn't want to hurt her. Apparently it happened at an unplanned trip to Ps uncle Hs (∞M) basement and my previous boss Ks (∞M) jail. I have no idea how they even ended up there. Despite my murder attempts P had been incredibly kind to me and denies that he killed L/K. I CANNOT put my undying hatred for this man into words but after a few unintentional date nights I think I have fallen in love with him.

Around this time A found me. One thing that I and everyone around me know is just how protective A and P are of eachother. One time my late friend E(17M) tried to stab P in his weakest point and A took a poisoned knife for him. P broke his nose in retaliation, I think if E hadn't escaped P would've killed him right there. Anyways, A is also very possessive and didn't take being broken up out of nowhere very well due to her abandonment issues. The thing is, she, like me, also looked up to L and we used to be friends when I was at the summer camp. After some mental warfare, a knife fight and some crying about L, one thing led to another and we ended up going on dates.

Neither A and P are aware I also meet up with the other but from what I've heard from them, they sound like they were a very dysfunctional and codependent couple. I feel like they're just using me to fill up their loneliness and as a person to vent up about their increasing resentment towards the neglectful parents™, almost like a pet passed between two exes.

I talked about this with Es ghost, who called me an idiot, and my mom and adopted dad (40+/dead,M) both pointed out I was as lonely as A and P.

So Aita for inviting both of them to the same date because I want to sort things out?

I created a side blog for this because of self consciousness, lmao, hi mutuals this is for you/hj

#pjo #dr howard claymore #hecate pjo #luke castellan #ethan nakamura #alabaster torrington #annabeth chase #percy jackson #smartwatermagic #fictional aita #percabeth #annabaster #percybaster #watermagic #percalabeth #aita

[blu3cl0v3rs]

Summary: Kai and Nya run into someone unexpected.

Warnings: Kai considers murdering a child

Prompt: Time Travel

Extra: I had another direction I was gonna go with this, where Wu and Morro sat down and looked through a photo album, but then Season 7 and the time travel prompt hit me in the face and now this happened. Set when Kai, Nya, and Wu travel 40 years back in time during Season 7.

Nya and I rushed to make it in time. For Wu's sake. For the future's sake.

The plan was to pretend to be our parents, get the Time Twins back to the present- or future? Kai shook his head, there's no point in dwelling on specifics. They get the Reverse Blade, then get rid of the Time Twi-

About to run into someone, I yanked Nya close as I rocketed them upwards. Stifling a yell, Nya glared at me, and I sheepishly shrugged at her. We glanced down to see what I dragged us away from, only for our jaws to drop in unison.

Misako, a younger brunette version of her, pulled a kid down the steps.

But not just any kid.

A screaming, flailing, angry, child-sized, living Morro.

It was almost uncanny how similar this child and that evil-monster-danger ghost looked alike, until I reminded myself that they were the same person. He had black hair and the same unnatural green lock, although his skin wasn't tainted a sickly green, nor did he have those darker eye marks, and he seemed a bit smaller. But regardless, the wind master screamed.

"LET ME GO, I CAN HELP! MISAKO!" the boy repeated some variations of that same line constantly, swinging limbs making it difficult for the brunette woman to safely escort the child down.

It would be so easy to blast the kid off the mountainside, a sinister thought slithered through his mind, coiling around his consciousness. It would save Lloyd from the night terrors, the constant fear of possession, the way he looked at Cole. My sister gave me a hardened look, obviously knowing what I was thinking. Not surprised, we could never hide things from each other.

"He's just a kid," she whispered.

"So is Lloyd," I shot back.

"He hasn't done anything wrong yet."

"But he will."

"So?" Nya sighed. "I get it, Kai. But if we change this, the future won't be the same. It could destroy our future."

I pursed my lips, rage still simmered under my skin. That monster child hurts Lloyd in the future.

"Please," Morro teared up. "I can help! I'm strong enough, I can protect them."

My head snapped towards the duo. Misako had stopped trying to walk down the stairs, and Morro had stopped trying to escape, allowing her to set him down with firm hands on his shoulders.

"I know you want to help, and I know you're strong, but we would never be able to forgive ourselves if you got hurt, Morro." Misako reasoned, a soft glint in her eyes. "We all love you, and I need you to trust that the other's can handle this. Capiche?"

Morro glared at the stairs he stood on, as if he could bring down the Time Twins by taking down the mountain itself by his stare.

"...capiche," he mumbled, allowing himself to be brought down the rest of the flight of stairs by Misako's steady grip on his small calloused hands.

The anger seeped out of me. I took a focused breath, and landed us near the monastery.

"Let's finish what we came here to do."

#ninjago #morro #ninjago morro #morro ninjago #morro master of wind #morrotober #morro wu #morrotober 2023 #lego ninjago #kai ninjago #kai jiang #kai smith #ninjago kai #ninjago nya #nya ninjago #nya smith #nya jiang #lloyd and cole are mentioned

[fantasyinallforms]

20 + Bagginshield for the kissy prompt? 💕

Thank you for the Prompt! @camibispace! I hope you enjoy this kissing scars drabble!

~~~~~

Scars to dwarves are like trophies. Great symbols of triumph and fortitude, and any dwarf that made it past 180 was likely to have their share of them. Thorin had more than most. His scars were memories of his trials, and not all of them were in battle. Many he had gained from working in the villages of men for over 40 years. Men who treated him like a greedy beggar. Who did everything they could to steal and cheat him until the only way to save his money was to sleep in the streets. He had wrapped so many stab wounds and cuts on his own body that he could put Oin’s work to shame. So unlike his kin, he did not appreciate or even like his scars. They were a sign of how low he had been forced to sink. 

Those days of working like a dog for scraps were over. Never again would he need to lower himself to that kind of work. He lay on his opulent bed, king under the mountain, with his lovely half-naked hobbit consort curled lazily over his chest. Bilbo was tracing his tattoos as he normally did as they enjoyed the afterglow of an evening well spent. This time, however, his fingers seemed to wander away from the dark inked marks on his body and to the darker shadows of former wounds. 

“How did you get these here?” Bilbo smoothed his fingers over the many raised lines on his arm.

“Men.” The answer seemed apt enough for him, but Bilbo frowned. 

“And what about these?” His hands ran over the three slashes on his chest, marked clearly by the lack of hair on his otherwise furry chest. 

“Men.” was his answer again. Bilbo’s frown deepened, and Thorin didn't like the look of it. He rolled them over until Bilbo was under him, his curious hands pinned above his head. Bilbo would not be swayed from his line of questioning. Ever his curious hobbit.

“Y-you never really talk about, ahhh, your scars. I know others -” Another moan escaped him as Thorin doubled down on the soft skin of Bilbo’s neck. “Thorin, please let me speak.” Bilbo struggled under him, and he let go immediately. He sat up looking very flushed, with several new dark spots forming where his lips had just been. “Thank you. I mean to say that I notice others take great pride in showing off their scars. You couldn't get Kili to put a shirt on for months after he healed. You, however, are never without one. Not even when you’re burning up in the forge. Not unless we’re here. As special as I feel that I’m the only one who gets to see that part of you, I have to wonder why?” There was sincerity in Bilbo’s voice, and it was endearing. He reached up to run his hands through those tawny curls and sighed. 

“Because I’m ashamed of them. Others earned their scars in glorious deeds, perhaps even stupid ones, but not me. I couldn't even properly fight back against most of my assailants. Not if I wanted to make any money. These are symbols of how low I had to fall in the name of my people. They’re ugly reminders.” Thorin felt the sudden need to cover himself and grabbed for the blanket, but Bilbo would have none of it. There was a look of fierceness in his eyes. Then, to his shock, Bilbo leaned him back and started kissing along the scars on his chest. He took his time. Each kiss was feather light but sure as stone. When he was done with one scar, he moved on to the next, leaving Thorin nearly gasping for air out of love and lust but also an acceptance he didn't think he deserved until this moment. When he caught his breath again, he cradled Bilbo’s head in his hands. 

“It’s my turn to show appreciation.” He kissed the scar that ran from Bilbo’s cheek all the way under his jaw. The physical manifestation of what Bilbo had been willing to give up when he threw himself into Azog only to be swatted away. He kissed every inch of that beautiful mark in the same manner that Bilbo had done his. 

“What a pair we make.” Bilbo breathed.     

______  

Fun kissing prompt game to be found here!

#bagginshield #the hobbit #thilbo #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #bilbo x thorin #FIAF(me)fics #kissing prompts

[fanatic1997]

Dominated

Hangman x reader

Summary:  “I know vanilla sex isn’t your type. I bet you’d fight me for control in bed, but you’d want to be dominated. Rooster can’t do that. He won’t be able to satisfy you like I could.”

Requested by @sizzlingparadiseland 

The sun was blazing hot over the beach. Your shoulders burned. You weren’t the only one feeling the effects of the sun. The cocky blond in front of you was practically glistening with sweat. It would have been distracting if you didn’t hate him so much. 

Hangman used his index finger to slide up his aviators. He crouched low in front of you. You stretched your neck and matched his stance. He smirked. You waited for the whistle to blow. 

Maverick had taken the Top Gun graduates to the beach for some bonding exercise. It was supposed to help the team come together. Of course, Hangman didn’t know the definition of the term but luckily that wasn’t your problem since you weren’t on his team. You were currently facing off with him at the scrimmage line. An outsider would think the two of you were clearly mismatched. Hangman had almost a foot and about 40 pounds of muscle on you. But that didn’t worry you. You’d be damned if you missed your opportunity to show up the cocky pilot. He had challenged you after all. 

 Hondo blew his whistle, and the two teams took off. You sprinted, opening yourself up for a pass. Rooster nodded at you when he saw you making the run and shouted, “go long.” You did and Rooster swung back his arm and threw the football. You tracked the ball with your eyes and calculated its trajectory. Just a few yards from the makeshift touch ground, you jumped up to catch the football. Your fingertips touched the sleek surface of the ball. 

But then, something hard slammed into your side. You landed hard on the sand, air rushing out of you.

“Nice try sweetheart.” You had black dots in your vision, but you didn’t need to see to recognize that voice. “Is that the best you can do?” You could feel Hangman’s chest vibrate with his laughter. That’s how close he was. You ignored the way your body responded to him. 

“Fuck you,” you shoved at Hangman’s chest hard. The blonde aviator laughed some more but didn’t budge. 

“I usually don’t mind an audience. But I don’t want one with you.” His green eyes sparkled with amusement. “Maybe next time, darling” he winked He pushed himself off you and stood. “Also, you fumbled,” before you had a chance to process what he meant, he took off in the opposite direction. You scowled, watching him get the touchdown and then spike the ball to the ground. He pointed in your direction as if dedicating the point to you. 

Hondo blew his whistle signaling the end of the run. You laid back on the sand staring up at the sky. You really hated Hangman. A second or two later, Rooster came into your line of sight. “That was one hell of a tackle,” he laughed extending his hand out to you. You grabbed it and stood up. You dusted sand off your backside as best you could. Judging by the ache at the bottom of your spine, you were sure to have a bruise in the morning. 

 “Up for another round?” Rooster asked. 

“Yeah,” you responded through clenched teeth. Fuck, your back hurt. The groan that escaped you when you stood up, gave you away. He laughed some more. He walked with you back to the makeshift scrimmage line. You tensed slightly when Rooster laid a hand on the small of your back. 

The two teams lined up again. Phoenix was going to quarterback this time around. Rooster lined up next to you and the two of you decided on a plan of attack. He’d go left and you’d run straight down the middle. 

You didn’t see a certain blonde pilot staring at you and Rooster. You were a little preoccupied watching Rooster dust some sand you had missed off your shoulder. “You know, my offer of getting drinks together still stands,” Rooster said. 

Seeing the pilot in nothing but jean shorts made you regret rejecting his offer from before.  But although Rooster was enjoyable to look at, you didn’t see him that way. Instead, all your mental capacity was used up in your hatred for a certain blonde pilot. 

You were saved from having to respond when you heard a startled “hey” in front of you. Hangman had shoved Omaha out of the way to stand in front of Rooster. 

Hangman was glaring daggers at Rooster. Rooster didn’t notice. He leaned in closer to you and said, “I’ll be at The Hard Deck tonight at 8, maybe you can drop by?” Rooster didn’t wait for you to reply. Instead, he turned to face Hangman in front of him. 

Hangman was sneering now. Being on the receiving end of many of his sneers, something about this one seemed off. This one held more malice. Rooster didn’t say anything. He only crouched lower in his position. You narrowed your eyes. This wasn’t going to end well.

You took off straight down the middle as Rooster had instructed when the whistle blew. This time, Hangman didn’t follow you. Instead, the fighter pilot had decided to go after Rooster. You were left wide open. Phoenix passed you the ball, and you caught it. You smiled hearing Rooster cheer from somewhere to your left. You sprinted to the touchdown. 

“Good girl,” Rooster cheered. You felt yourself go hot and risked a glance in his direction. You saw the moment Hangman’s eyes flashed with rage before tackling an unsuspecting Rooster to the ground. Rooster didn’t have the ball. You saw Hangman say something to Rooster and in the next moment, the pair were tussling on the ground. Hondo blew his whistle. 

You forgot about the touchdown and instead sprinted toward the pair rolling in the sand. By the time you reached the fight, some of the Top Gun graduates had already separated the two aviators.

Rooster shook off Fanboy’s arms. He looked visibly calmer than Hangman who was seething. “Y/n can make her own decisions,” Rooster stated. Hangman started after Rooster but he was held back by Payback. Hondo blew his whistle again. 

Maverick and Hondo called the game after that. The class groaned when Maverick announced the class would be running some drills as punishment tomorrow. Everybody including you turned to glare at Hangman. 

Hangman only shrugged. You rolled your eyes and walked away. You walked to your stuff that was lying next to Penny’s picnic table. You picked up your shirt and slid it on. 

“So, are you planning on meeting Rooster tonight at 8?” You stopped halfway through putting on your shoes. You were surprised he had overheard. You glanced up at Hangman. He wasn’t looking at you and instead was looking at the ground hard.

You continued to put on your shoe. “Seriously? That’s not your business.” 

“Just answer me. Do you like him?” You stopped again and looked up. Hangman’s jaw was clenched now, and he was still avoiding your eyes. You thought about sending Hangman to hell, but you stopped when you saw the red tinge on his cheeks.

“Maybe. Rooster’s a nice guy. The type to bring home to mom,” you shrugged. You weren’t lying. Your mom would have you married off to him as soon as she met him. 

Hangman scoffed. “Yeah, the type that likes vanilla sex. Trust me, that’s not your type.” 

You felt warm. You weren’t sure if it was the heat from the sun. “You don’t know anything about me.” You felt your heart rate tick up with anger. 

Hangman’s eyes were flashing with life now. “I know you’re mad right now. Did you know your eyes turn a darker shade when you’re mad?” Hangman didn’t bother to hide his once over.“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad” he licked his lips. 

You swallowed hard. Something low in your stomach stirred. “Hangman, I...” you started but Hangman shushed you.

“Let me finish, please. I know vanilla sex isn’t your type. I bet you’d fight me for control in bed, but you’d want to be dominated. Rooster can’t do that. He won’t be able to satisfy you like I could.”

 You gasped. He stepped closer to you and tucked a strand behind your ear. “Admit it, you want me just as much as I want you.”   

Hangman’s eyes held promises. “Let me show you.” You shivered but nodded nonetheless.  

“Good girl,” he whispered.  

...

Author’s note: wooh first story back! I hope y’all enjoy it. If you liked this, check out my other work :)

Permanent Taglist: 

@n3ssm0nique @kyber-crystal​ @multifandom-fangirl4​ @thespeeder​ @inglourious-imagines​ @mads-weasley​ @llukpng @foreverchasingtime @rachaeldonnaspiteri1 @redpandabel @specialk6802 @startterfly​ @mikrokosmosmymind @jonginvlog @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak​  @evans-dejong​ @yogabigooby​ @a-h-2008​ @lgg5989​ @rachelccollier​ @hirokosoul @dempy​ @saramaple​ @shaded-recs​ @feireads​ @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy​ @skyes-universe​ 

I’m sorry if I missed anybody on the taglist!

#top gun #top gun imagine #Top Gun: Maverick #hangman top gun #top gun maverick #hangman #hangman imagine #hangman fic #hangman x reader #jake seresin #Jake hangman seresin #rooster #rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster Bradshaw imagine #glen powell #Miles Teller

[yagirlpurplefox12]

Baby Girl (The Gray Man x Female Reader)

Based off film, not book

Sierra Six x Reader x Lloyd Hansen

Warnings: Explicit, Age Gap, Violence, Language, Sexual Assault, Loss of Parents

Ages:

You are 21

Sierra Six (Court Gentry) is 41

Lloyd Hansen is 40

Summary: After your parents were mysteriously murdered, a man of the name Donald Fitzroy decided to take you as his own…but unfortunately that doesn’t come without a price. Later the years passed and somehow you caught the eyes of two dangerous men. One of them completely ignoring the chemistry while the other relishes in it.

~ Chapter One ~

This was not the life you wanted, maybe in a fantasy world…sure, but this is reality. At Fifteen you became an orphan when you opened the door to your suburban home with a smile on your face after your friends dropped you off. Only for that smile to fall apart after seeing objects and furniture trashed and a few bodies laying around.

Your friends already left leaving you to clutch your phone as you side stepped bodies, making sure to not create too much noise. Blood painted the walls, cabinets, sofa, and flooring.

Grabbing a gun, you checked to see if the safety was on and if there were bullets left. Safety was off. Bullets were in. You hadn’t gone to a shooting range that much but you know the basics thanks to your father and even some friends. Your parents were not in the living room nor kitchen, which made you still scared for their sake.

“Mom, dad?”

Your voice trembled and tears threaten to escape. Wanting to run far from there but you couldn’t until you knew your parents were safe. Only if.

Fresh blood poured out from your mother’s gauged out eyes and slit throat. A knife still stuck in your father’s chest, his eyes focused where your mother laid. Bile rose to your throat, puking when you turned from the gruesome scene no child should see of their parents. Dialing the cops, they came to the scene and threw a lot of questions at you. Why did you have a gone? Where were you? Who were those men in tactical armor? Blah? Blah? Blah? They brought you into the station and that was when you met Donald Fitzroy. “What do you want? As I said a thousand times before, give me a fucking lawyer.”

“I’m not here to prosecute you. I know you didn’t do that, besides, you’re free to walk out those doors.”

“What?”

“Listen, I’m sorry for what has happened. Truly. You’re just a child who saw the most unforgivable. I’m here to give you my condolences and to offer you a safe place. Whoever did this, they are dangerous and I don’t know if you are next on the list as you were the child of their targets.”

Sniffling, you can’t help but to let out a sob and some tears, “Who are you?”

“My name is Donald Fitzroy and I am the director for CSS short for Cheltenham Security Services. Though, I am retiring so now would be your best bet to come with me for protection.”

“…How am I supposed to trust you?”

Donald smiled and threw a file on the table, “If you got any questions, I’m right here. I don’t know why your parents were targeted…why your family was targeted. Hate to be the one telling you this, but you are the only living member left. Telling me this isn’t random and since it’s just you left, you are the best bet to this puzzle.”

“No time to mourn?”

“You can mourn,” he stated softly, “Mourn all you want. You didn’t deserve any of this.”

After the meeting, he took you on a private jet to his home in a different country. His niece Clair was only seven and though you were distant and 8 years older, you were each other’s saving graces. Yes, there were many problems you couldn’t confide with her as she could with you, but it was nice having her around. Donald and Clair slowly became your family and both helped you overtime with the loss of your own blood.

Time to time—unfortunately—a man named Denny Carmichael would visit to steal you away for a few meetings and made you train. Made you. Being a resilient one made him all the more angry yet insistent about you. Donald hated the idea of making you an assassin, but the CIA all turned their heads away. At one point he took your training so intensely that he had you meet someone to learn how to interrogate. He was a handsome man, you have no shame admitting, but a complete sociopath. Maybe even psycho. With gorgeous blue eyes and a strong mustache, you couldn’t help but blush the first time meeting him. Which made his ego burst more than it should.

“Why the fuck should I waste my time with a brat?”

Those were his first words.

It only lasted a week with him as a woman who you never met seemed to know how to pull strings to get you out of training altogether. Though, you too made quite an impression yourself. Being a young 15–almost 16–year old who about lost everything she loved, every time you spoke to him was as if you were signing for a death wish. He beat the crap out of you when you talked back or didn’t do what you were told. Yet, you always gave him a shit eating grin with blood dripping from your nose and lip.

Lloyd Hansen never forgot about you…the stupidest yet strongest brat he ever met.

Three years passed and you didn’t have to deal with anything involving the CIA and other government politics. Donald was really trying the best he could to let you live as a semi-normal teen. The only thing you had to worry about was Clair’s heart. And the fact your guys address got leaked. That was how you met Six and you completely fell for him. Though, you were only 18 and he was a whole grown man.

“(F/N), can you come here for a moment,” the maid announced. Leaving your room, you paused for a moment after seeing him. Easily guessing him to be around 6 feet compared to your height, you can’t help but blush from his right fit suit and facial hair. Cursing at yourself mentally because of your hormones, you greeted him with a shy smile and offered your hand out for a shake. His grip was strong and you could feel just from it that he was a hardworking man. It was stale for awhile between all of you…well it was just stale with him. Clair was more sassy than usual but you didn’t change your behavior. Every other morning you did your routine of working out with weights and skateboarded out front. Every evening would be a walk and sometimes run around the limits of where you were aloud. You knew that it may have been a pain for Six to take care of two at once but from how he hovered over Clair more you had an idea that Donald may have told him of your training.

After Clair had her peacemaker attack and fell asleep on the hospital bed, you held her hand and tried to keep a conversation with Six.

“She’s not lying about this being another Thursday. You know, she’s a strong kid. More than I could ever be.”

“Hmm.”

“Pfft…you know…come here I got something.”

Cautiously he walked towards you. Rolling your eyes, you reaches for your pocket and pulled out a box. “I’m a gum chewed myself. Donald tried to get me to stop, but I’m just too damn stubborn.”

Offering him a piece, his mouth tweaks a bit and he accepts the Spearmint. “Why did you pull out?”

“I didn’t want to do it. Just because I lost everything doesn’t mean I should be used as a toy. No offense.”

“None taken. You were too young anyways.”

Later that night Clair woke up and you all were able to go back home. Left your bathroom door open, you turned on your shower connected to you room. You threw off your shirt and pants leaving you in lace pink bra and underwear when you noticed something strange.

Or someone.

Pretending to not notice, you grabbed your razor and just as the figure moved you threw it at them. The man stalking you cursed when he felt the razor graze his cheek and took out his knife, rushing at you. Saying “Fuck it” to yourself you ran at him and focused on the weapon. Using your forearm for guarding, you kicked his side which made him grunt and get more frantic in his attacks. Switching the knife to his other hand, he cut your arm and with the pain as distraction, he got a hold of you with his arm squeezing your neck. Yelping, you felt the knife go from your neck all the way down under your belly button.

“My, my, for someone barely legal you sure are delicious aren’t you sexy?”

“You pervert,” you hissed when his knife was poking just under the waist band of your panties.

“She’s right, you are a pervert,” you hear a voice that made you sigh with relief. The assassin’s dirty hands left your body and all you heard was a disturbing gurgling noise. Six then stood in front of you with blood on his arms. “You okay,” he asks you looming over. “Yeah, I’m going to take a shower. You should too.”

He nods and went to the sink to wash his hands.“I’ll clean this mess up. Sleep with Clair when your done,” he orders before drying his hands and moved over to your dresser to pick out your pajamas and even underwear. Your heart races and can’t help the embarrassment to overflow, but you let him get your clothes anyways as you closed the door to take your shower. Behind the door, you smiled and toled him, “You know, that was OOC of you.”

“What does that mean,” Six asked, moving towards the body using your sheets to move it.

“Means “out of character”, usually you hum, grunt, of just say a word or two. Not really have I heard you make jokes. But you did make one about the guy being a pervert when he—well—you know.”

“Well that’s because he was…plus being around you and Clair is such a headache.”

“Pfft, you love us,” you laughed before hopping in the shower.

#the gray man #reader #imagine #x reader #female #female reader #sierra six #lloyd hansen #sierra six x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #you #the gray man x reader #the gray man x female reader #lloyd hansen x you #Sierra six x you #series #the gray man female series

[wackyrumble]

Mort v.s. Roommate

Mort - All Hail King Julien

Mort, despite appearances, is an incredibly old interdimensional being who has been married 12 times and has grandchildren. He's part starfish and has grown his head back once. Mort has the ability to absorb souls, including versions of himself and his grandma. He also has a foot fetish. Read amount more about Mort below.

Roommate - Diary of a Tourney Kid

A clone of Adam Ruins Everything that came out wrong. He debunks things in the same way as his original, but completely incorrectly. Bill Cipher turned him into a hand puppet and fused him with a clone of another character. Fought Walter White and his evil shadow self, Walter Black. Read more about Roommate below.

Full description of Mort:

"I doubt I'm the only one submitting him because it has become a meme but I might be the only one who has seen the entire show many many times so I will give a full rundown about the pure beautiful insanity that is AHKJ Mort.

Ok so I'll give the context for how he came to be the way he is. In the movie Madagascar there is a joke about Mort being too close to King Julien's feet. In that scene it is framed that King Julien just doesn't like Mort. But the show The Penguins of Madagascar (TPOM) took that joke and made an episode called Two Feet High and Rising about how Mort loves King Julien's feet and is exiled for not being able to stop himself from touching them. Pretty weird stuff but it's nothing compared to what comes later. For the rest of TPOM Mort loving King Julien's feet is a constant thing. It's like his main characteristic and you almost forget how weird it is. It's just like yeah that's Mort he loves feet *shrug* But other than that he's like a little kid and is generally cute. But now we get to All Hail King Julien and OH BOY things go insane in that show in the best ways. I'll probably submit multiple characters from it just because there's so much weird there.

So here's the meat of this essay I'm apparently writing here, the weird of AHKJ Mort.

He is a interdimensional being capable of absorbing alternate versions of himself. Those versions of himself are able to talk to him as voices in his head which he sometimes sees as appearing in front of him. The inside of his mind is a bunch of hallways with those versions running around and they are capable of taking control of him in various situations. When he drinks coffee Smart Mort takes over. When he drinks Tea Hippie Mort takes over and at one point Political Mort beats up the other Morts inside his head to take control so he could win the election for Prime Minister of Mangos. He also absorbed his grandmother and didn't remember doing that. In the actual show he absorbed his grandfather who tried to convince him to kill King Julien because King Juliens great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather locked him up when Mort was a baby. Oh and that gets into the age thing. Yeah Mort is absurdly old and it's a running joke that he looks like a kid but is actually very old. There was also an alternate version of him called Morticus Khan who was the leader of the Mort Horde and Mort defeated him by absorbing his essence. At one point he states that he had been married 12 times and most of his wives died of old age. He also says at one point that he hasn't laid an egg in 40 years and even then the thing he hatched was really gross. Another time he mentions having grandchildren and when Maurice asks "You have grandchildren" he shoots webs out of his wrists and shouts "WHAT!? Did they escape? Don't let them find me!". Yeah we are still talking about the cute little lemur from Madagascar. There's also a scene where he finds a wardrobe that leads into the real world and it goes live action for a few seconds before he turns around and goes back. He also tried to murder a dude for a while. This other kingdom took over and Mort tries to shoot him with a crossbow, poison him and crush him with a rock. None of these attempts are successful. He also seriously disfigures a character named Rob McTodd who had had too much plastic surgery done (yes this is a real plotline for the lemur characters lol) Mort jumped on his face and messed it up and then he comes back in a phantom of the opera storyline. He also mentions at one point that he's part starfish and grew his head back once.

So that's how having a foot fetish is somehow no longer the weirdest thing about this character. That's still a thing too though. He had a box that he said he's going to put King Julien's feet inside when he dies. They played real life Monopoly and was winning so much that everyone else was starving and he tried to use having all the money to extort King Julien into letting him go on a date with his foot. (It was like a candlelit table with Mort on one and and Julien's foot up on a pillow at the other end. Julien immediately changed his mine and left lol)

Now I wanna go on about how exactly we got here lol. The whole absorbing thing started with Smart Mort. The idea that he got smart when he drank coffee was established at the end of season 1. Then in season 2 episode 4 Pineapple of my Eye King Julien is weirdly obsessed with a pineapple because he thinks it has the souls of his ancestors inside. Mort is seeing it speak to him and mock him as well as other voices in his head including a weirdly aggressive violent one who wants to burn the kingdom to the ground. The idea of him being way older is first just when King Julien kicks him and people think he kicked a baby and he says "That wasn't a baby it was an annoying little weirdo" but the first time it's more of a real thing is in an episode where King Julien wants a son so Mort paints his tail striped and pretends and King Julien seems convinced by it and is like super into it. And then at the end Mort confesses and King Julien already knew and said "It's Mort I mean come on he could be my father!" and so then in another episode he calls another character Hector whos whole thing is that he's a grumpy old war veteran "grandpa" mockingly and Hector says "You're older than I am Mort" The voices thing also continues and goes from just being Mort moving back and forth into different positions when the voices talk to actually seeing multiple Morts on screen talk to each other and then we get the whole Morticus Khan and the Mort Horde thing which is where the absorbing souls thing is revealed. And then he goes into his own mind and meets his grandmother who reveals that he absorbed her and then all the the stuff about the 12 wives and the laying an egg and the grandchildren are from the last season when we've reached maximum crazy mode.

That's how this show works with basically everything. There will be a joke or a plot of an episode which is a little weird. It gets called back and becomes a little weirder. It then becomes a running joke and then gets weirder and weirder every time it comes back. I love this show so much. I know this got a little redundant but I love explaining how this all built up over the show with how they kept adding those weirdness layers as it went lol I mostly wrote all this from memory except to get the number of greats that Mort's grandpa said correct shakfdsahflk I have seen this show too many times

If you hadn't seen any of the memeing about Mort's wikipedia page and so this is all news to you I hope reading this was fun for you lol"

Full description of Roommate:

"OK OK OK SO LIKE. HE'S FROM THIS MASHUP TOURNAMENT HOSTED ON SOUNDCLOUD & DISCORD CALLED "DIARY OF A TOURNEY KID, RIGHT? YES, IT IS BASED OFF OF DIARY OF A WIMPY KID IN NAME, THEMING, AND A BUNCH OF THE CHARACTERS IN IT. AND YES, THE ENTIRE PREMISE WAS STARTED BY GREG HEFFLEY TRAPPING A BUNCH OF PEOPLE IN THE DIARY. LOOK. OKAY. THAT ISN'T THE POINT HERE. (including a few real people but. roommate isn't one of those real people, LOL)

so Roommate is, like, a WEIRD case. he's a clone of a TV personality version of a real guy(adam conover specifically the whole thing he does in, like, adam ruins everything), but is SPECIFICALLY STATED TO BE A SEPERATE CHARACTER IN LORE. LIKE. HES A WHOLE OTHER GUY. HE DOESNT EVEN ACT LIKE HIM. HES LIKE. THE SCOOBY DOO VILLAIN EQUIVALENT OF A MAN. all he does is run around and "Debunk" shit but hes getting it all totally WRONG. It's like, if someone who never watched adam ruins everything before took one look at its name, the blonde, glasses wearing combover having guy on the cover, and went. "oh, this guy is gonna be HORRIBLE, isnt he". and in the shows case thatd be wrong but in roommate's case, he's...he's so pathetic. he's not even the same guy at this point. (and also literally isn't. but)

He never even manages to intimidate anyone even once. not even mr beast and ninja fortnite, (part of a team called Dubious Duo) who he just. VERY much annoyed via "ruining" twitch. He also got turned into a meaty handpuppet and fused to another clone of a different character by BILL CIPHER, of all characters but then immediately fell into a hole. He got his shit beaten out of him by a 19 year old punk catboy JUST before this, too. the punk catboys name is Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart BUT HE IS IN NO WAY RELATED TO THE REAL GUY. HES LITERALLY JUST. SOME RANDOM TEENAGER.

Also, extra fun facts about him include: during an event that happened on the discord, he canonically went ":3". He made his own ytp and posted it on the soundcloud account, too. he put a bunch of goofy wacky cartoon sounds in it. (his mashups use these sounds a lot outside of the ytp, too.) (incase you REALLY wanted to hear the ytp, though. here it is: https://soundcloud.com/doatk/ytpmv-02?in=doatk/sets/bonus )

P.S: extra information from a friend because they like to infodump this sort of thing & this isn't nescessary at all. but: He gets the fandom nickname of "Roommate" from his connection to Collegehumor & the Insane Clown Posse song In My Room, which he used in the tournament & is strongly associated with. He's so. He's so normal.

(P.S, P.S: THE IMAGE I SENT WITH THIS IS TECHNICALLY ART OF HIM FROM A CROSSOVER WITH ANOTHER SOUNDCLOUD TOURNAMENT THAT HAPPENED. BUT. its the best render i have that isnt done in like. ms paint LOL. IN SAID CROSSOVER (WITH A TOURNAMENT CALLED "THE PERFECT TOURNAMENT") HE ALSO FOUGHT WALTER WHITE AND HIS. EVIL SHADOW SELF, CALLED WALTER BLACK. WHO WAS LITERALLY HIS SHADOW.)

also: nobody in the fandom knows what his deal is, either. they literally just couldnt catch the real adam conover at first so they (In canon) just went "well! time to make a clone, i guess!" and then he came out WRONG."

#mort #all hail king julien #roommate #diary of a tourney kid #wacky round 2a