[ to-do list ]

[comesfrompain]

1) Put Rogers' head on a spike
2) Take over Hell
3) Unbreak Bucky's dick
4) Buy milk

Comments

[Nightmares]

[disassembling]

[Since moving out of Limbo, his dreams became bloody. There was blood on his hands, on his body, filling him up. It was everywhere, hot and sticky, a taint of blame that he couldn't comprehend even when he jarred awake in the new and more-or-less familiar room that was his own. His bare chest was a mess of drying and dried blood, spatters looking like he had been laying out in the rain.

The source was curled up next to him, a small child with blood-red hair and lips, coy little smile on her lips as she became aware of his state of wakefulness. He pushed his way out of the bed, escaping her needle-like nails as they moved to dig into his side and abandoned his room altogether.

There were closets. He had napped in them before. She always found him there. Even now as he padded silently down the hallway, she ghosted in his wake. He slipped into his commander's room, shutting the door behind him to survey the scene before deciding it was worth approaching what with Rumlow's bed being occupied by the man himself. He glanced back to the door to see the scurry of spiders passing under it, and he sighed through his nose.]

Rumlow. [He didn't reach out to shake his commander awake; that was a good way to get stabbed.] Sir.

[comesfrompain]

[Any night spent alone was fitful, Rumlow's brain only ever able to descend into hypnagogia rather than real sleep, too wary of the monster that lived under his bed. It was like he was a little kid again with that thing, that creature, a mockery of the emblem he once proudly represented. Rumlow suspected it was his reward for harboring disloyal feelings to HYDRA, but it wouldn't change how he felt.

It had at least been an hour since last a red tentacle slid over the edge of the bed and attempted to wrap around Rumlow's leg, so he was torn between allowing himself to relax and grow even more alert, aware of the fact that it could come at any moment. When he heard the door open, it was a soft sigh of relief that escaped his lips. Company. That always caused the monster to retreat and he settled against his pillow, eyes still shut. It took his guest a moment before he approached -- Rumlow had already figured it was the Soldier, Chase usually just sort of slithered in and started touching.]

Hey. [Rumlow answered, lifting up his blankets in offering for the Soldier to climb on in.] Couldn't sleep?

[The room was too dark for him to make out that the dark stains on the Soldier's chest were blood, though he definitely noticed there was something there. His brows furrowed together, pushing himself up onto his elbow. He suspected it could be blood, just by narrowing down the list of feasible substances, but why? Had someone broken in?]

Jesus, Bucky. Are you all right?

[Text]

[disassembling]

[A few hours after this thread]

I encountered someone who knows some of my past. Is this going to be a problem?

[ text ]

[comesfrompain]

[When Rumlow gets the text, his eyes narrow. As far as he knows, there are two new residents that might fall into that category, and one is far more likely than the other. Fuck, he thinks. Who else could it be?]

It's Romanova, isn't it?

TEXT; un: shadowthief

[onteamdyson]

Did he actually leave you a note? because that's adorable and mildly embarrassing

text; un: crossbones

[comesfrompain]

He definitely left me a note. Whenever he's not being insanely good at his job, he is kind of adorable.

[A few seconds later.]

A tail, hunh?

un: bees?

[logicals]

so. horns get you horny?
B

un: crossbones

[comesfrompain]

I mean, I love a good trumpet solo.

text; un: blackspider

[natalia_vdova]

Do you know any remedies for the overwhelming urge to put Steve's face into a wall?

[Her night sucks, how's yours?]

text; un: crossbones

[comesfrompain]

Punching something else. Dare I ask what he did?

TEXT; un: shadowthief // During a workday

[onteamdyson]

saw this and thought of you
rumlowcheckit.jpg

get it?
cuz i wanna sit on it
BOOM SEXTED!
TTYL

TEXT; un: shadowthief

[onteamdyson]

psssssssssst
hey b-rock
rumlow
hey.
guess what

text; un: crossbones

[comesfrompain]

Chicken butt.

Not even a little SFW

[onteamdyson]

"Are you busy?" Kenzi stands in the doorway of Rumlow's office with her head canted and a lollipop in her mouth-- Oh god, what is she wearing? Is that a catholic school girl uniform? Kenzi, what the actual fuck? Her hair is up in high pig tails and her skirt is way too short to be appropriate for a workplace. How did she even get in the building? Right. Thief.

"I don't have an appointment, but I was hoping you could... squeeze me in." Blatant innuendo. The girl has an agenda. She smirks as her tail slowly lifts, getting caught in the hem of her skirt and pulling it up just high enough to get his attention.

She closes the door behind her with the heel of her black pumps. This is what happens when Rumlow works too much overtime. Kenz gets lonely, and freaking bored. So goddamn bored. Clearly she has been hanging out with a lower class of demons at the bar because they've been filling her head with all kinds of ideas lately. And she's had too much time to herself to think on them!

Her hips sway as she approaches his desk and perches on the edge of it, pulling the lollipop out of her mouth with a pop. She looks him over, lifting her foot to push his chair with the toe of her shoe. Back up, Rumlow. Are you getting the idea just yet?

[comesfrompain]

Oh, does Kenzi ever have his attention. Setup for a cheap porno or not, she looks so damn good in that outfit. Rumlow's gaze rakes over her, pupils already growing wide in want. Knowing she's done all this for him, dressed up in this slutty little number, walked through the building, the corporation she hates, just to be here now? Fuck, he loves it. Heat coils in his gut and Rumlow glances back towards the door. Kenzi's shut it, but Rumlow knows someone in his chain of command could still come in. Interrupt.

Which is why, when she starts toeing at his chair, Rumlow's lips lift into a smirk. He rolls back, fingers drumming on the armrests. Plenty of room under his desk for her to fit. Wouldn't be the first time he'd done shit like this at work, but it's a first for Brimstone.

"Always got time for you, sweetheart," he says, turning his hand to beckon with a crooked finger. He leans back in his chair, shirt lifting slightly, revealing a strip of toned stomach.

His eyes stray down to her thighs, the amount of ass he can see, seated on the edge of his desk. That skirt doesn't cover much. Rumlow's already wondering how best he could get his fingers up inside her without anyone seeing. Maybe he ought to just bar the door.

voice; un: possemagnet

[kickingand]

You busy?

voice; un: crossbones

[comesfrompain]

Nah, not really. Why?

[Text]

[disassembling]

[It comes after he finds this on his bed and ponders why it would suddenly appear.]

Why is Kenzi suddenly leaving non-sexual intimacy notes on my bed?

text; un: crossbones

[comesfrompain]

[Well, it appears Kenzi's been pretty damn proactive with the bit of information he shared with her. Rumlow isn't sure if he ought to be glad for her help, or if telling her was a betrayal of Bucky's trust. It's not as if the Soldier ever inferred he wanted this difficulty kept secret, but Rumlow can understand why he'd be perturbed.]

She wants to help. She came to talk to me the other day, wanting to cheer me up after the whole dove fiasco. We talked, and a few things came up. She supports us, y'know.

text; un: hexfactor

[bastardofipswich]

when you get home WE NEED TO TAAAAAALK

(pretend i said that in a nagging wife voice)

text; un: crossbones

[comesfrompain]

Are you breaking up with me? :C

(again)

[disassembling]

[As a general rule, they never met up at work. It was better to keep work-home life separate for the purpose, but it had been a hard shift for some reason so he made an exception to the rule that he followed. The downside to sleeping with someone after so long without was actually hitting the point of wanting to be with them more than he should.

Still, when Rumlow clocked in to the start the 'day shift', he promptly made his appearance, keeping his eyes north of the clavicles.]

Sir, there appears to be a disturbance to your office that was noted. I'd like you to come with me and report if anything is missing of your effects.

[All business. Rumlow would hopefully not see this coming before the trap was sprung.]

[comesfrompain]

[It was a surprise to see Bucky here, of all places. It was a kind of unspoken rule that they didn't meet up at work unless absolutely necessary. A rare case too, since they could always message on the hellnet. His brows furrowed and his concern grew deeper as Bucky spoke. It wasn't that he kept anything particularly important in his office, but it was still disconcerting to find out it had been broken into.

This was clearly a matter of security -- Bucky's actual job, so Rumlow started up towards his office, already trying to run through a list of possible culprits. Was he going to have to put a bullet in someone's brain?]

Thanks for letting me know. Any leads on who?

text; un: mynameisjefferson

[royalpassport]

[ Several days after this post. ]

do you have a moment?
i have some questions and nobody else i can ask

text; un: crossbones

[comesfrompain]

[Now isn't this a surprise. Rumlow wonders what it's all about.]

What's up?

Date Night With a House Party in the Background

[disassembling]

[This was far more of a casual affair than most of their other dates. It was about being comfortable, and they decided on nothing fancy or classy but rather made their way to one of the many pubs that Hell had. He had vowed not to get drunk this time, to keep it casual and to simply enjoy the evening. He had left Stella quietly in charge or at least his eyes and ears of the household for when Kenzi and Chase would no doubt watch movies too loud and get too drunk or high to be able to actually be functioning adults.

But now, halfway through their night and with a plate of what Hell called nachos and something that might have been chicken wings, they were casually drinking some alcohol and enjoying one another's company in the far corner where both of them could survey the entire room. It was loud, most conversations drowning out their own, which was how they both liked it too.

And he was playing gentle footsy with Rumlow too. He would slide his foot along his commander's calf, intent on listening to whatever Rumlow had to say and continued to pepper questions that finally moved away from work and daily Hell activities and turned to where he was endlessly curious.]

Did you do well in grade school when you were young? You're obviously very intelligent to the point where it seems like you would be bored in school. What did you want to be when you grew up?

UNTZ UNTZ UNTZ

[comesfrompain]

[A relaxing date seemed like the perfect way to spend the night, give the kids some space where hopefully they wouldn't burn the house down. Just some dinner and drinks and playing at something resembling reality. They were far from your typical couple, but that didn't stop Rumlow from wanting to try it out.

Right now they were just throwing back your standard pub fare and a few beers, chewing the fat about whatever came up. It was good too, to just talk to Bucky. There were a lot more questions being asked and answered on his part, but Rumlow had long grown used to it with him. It was a part of their relationship, and nothing he really minded. Bucky was far from incessant, as far as he was concerned. Even when the questions started pushing towards a more personal topic.

His gaze slid over, away from the idle observance of the bar's patrons. Focusing on Bucky's eyes, Rumlow stared and weighed the potential motivations behind the question. Most likely, he just wanted to learn, and though Rumlow never really enjoyed talking about his past, he would. For Bucky.]

Yeah, in terms of smarts, sure. Got in trouble with teachers though, didn't like how I was rough-housing with the other kids. Guess I was bored with some of the subjects. Remembered reading shit and being told that I was too far ahead. Sorta killed the urge to put in the work after that.

[Rumlow wiped his fingers on a napkin and then folded his arms across his lap.]

When I grew up? Man... a rock star maybe? I don't think I ever really settled on any one idea.

text; un: mynameisjefferson

[royalpassport]

hello mr rumlow
would you consider yourself a fashionable man?

text; un: crossbones

[comesfrompain]

[First of all. Where the fuck does he get off calling him mister? Second, who fucking asks that out of the blue? Jefferson, obviously.]

Just Rumlow. And I guess that depends on what you mean by fashionable. Like, how I dress personally or my understanding of fashion?

[Action] Oct 19'ish (TW: self harm)

[disassembling]

[It had been the longest that he and Rumlow had been apart since entering Hell, a locate and detain mission becoming a need to set the cards up for Rumlow to get back into the game. It had been a difficult few days, one where he slept very little as there was too much going on in his head. Jefferson's suffering was like a slow personal bleed, one that he couldn't escape given that he stayed there with the demon and Kenzi when she arrived. He was trusted and was one of the few who could potentially navigate such troubled waters.

He compartmentalized much, and when it came time to move Jefferson to the familiarity of the shop again, Bucky made the excuse that he needed new clothing, to spend some time with Stella and to have a night in his own bed spooned up against Rumlow. He needed that R and R so badly that he could practically taste it. It hadn't been an easy separation and not just because the mission he was on was so painful either.

He missed Rumlow, like a dull ache that seemed more and more intense on each passing day. Texts couldn't bridge the gap though they tried.

Upon entering home, they came together like waves crashing on land, grappling, kissing. He up-ended Rumlow over the arm of the couch in record time before their haphazard desperation landed them on the floor for a fierce nasty bout of sex. Then more kissing, touching hugging, following one another around wherever they went. It wasn't even questioned, just happened. Even a simple trip to the kitchen to feed Stella required them both, fingers entwined.

Under it all, he suffered quietly. He didn't blame Rumlow for any of what was happening to him, but the mission was still weighing on him. It made him a bit more needy than usual, especially when it came time for bed when he would be sleeping for more than an hour. Rumlow was safe though, created a safe space. So he spooned up and settled in.

The nightmares were bad. Worse than ever. He made no sound, didn't move as he was frozen in the images that plagued him, confusing and volatile. When he woke, it was with a sharp inhale and covered in sweat, fingers gripping the sheets as if he might tear them open. Emotions crashed down, so intense that it almost felt as if he were experiencing the opposite of a wipe.

Slowly and carefully, he disentangled himself from Rumlow and went to the bathroom. Bending, he turned on the water and splashed some on his face, breathing hard but like with Jefferson, he forced himself to calm.

Inhale. Hold it. Exhale. Hold it. Rinse and repeat.

He made a low noise like a wounded animal, his breath hitching all over again as he gripped the sink almost hard enough to shatter it on the left side. He tried and failed to calm himself, repeating some of the words that Jefferson said, thinking they were his own. That face - his face - twisted in horror, fear and absolute devastation.

There was order in pain.]

Order in pain. There's order in pain. [He whispered the words to himself, recalling them from Rumlow more often than he can count. He stored a knife behind the toilet and reached for it, feeling as if his mind was desperate for any focus, any relief from the twisting torrent of emotions that swept him, tore at him, made him experience a sensation like mental drowning.

It was a quick nick, barely worth mentioning. It was just above his elbow on the back side of his arm, a place easily explained away and not as easily seen when he was talking to someone. There was a flicker of pain. He tried again, a bit deeper and his eyes fluttered closed as mental anguish was jerked back to let in the low burn of physical pain. His head tipped back so he might view the ceiling if he opened his eyes.]

...order through pain.

[comesfrompain]

[Things had been rough, ever since Jefferson's escape. Bucky had picked him up easily enough, but the follow through, making sure he was stable, required all his attention. Rumlow hadn't even realized how much time they spent together until they weren't. He missed him for days, trying to make up for his absence with texts and sneaked phone calls. It wasn't enough.

When Bucky finally returned, it was like two trains colliding. Except instead of twisted metal, it was entwining bodies, fucking rough and hard and desperate. They rarely separated after. When it was time for bed, Rumlow was grateful to finally have Bucky there with him -- he'd taken to crashing on the couch to avoid the thing that lived under his bed.

Now, he was sleeping soundly for the first time in days, content with Bucky's warmth alongside him. Rumlow was so deep asleep, he didn't even realize Bucky had gotten up until a few minutes later, when he shifted, expecting to find a body where there was none. His eyes opened in the dark, blinking to try and focus, find out where Bucky had gone. Palm splayed over the warm vacancy, Rumlow pushed himself upright, sliding across the sheets and out of bed. Padding across the floor, he paused when he heard a murmuring voice coming from the bathroom.

Brows twitching into a frown, Rumlow approached the door, pushing it open. It was still dark, but he could make out Bucky's form -- the metal arm was unmistakable, even in the low light. He groped at the wall, squinting in preparation as his fingers found the switch. Brightness filled the room and Rumlow grimaced while shading his eyes with his other hand.]

Bucky, what are you--

[He cut himself off as he spotted the blade in hand. Gaze flicking between the crimson coloring the edge and the reflection of Bucky's face in the mirror, Rumlow wasn't sure what to say. He stepped closer, hands in view as he carefully put one atop his shoulder, giving it a squeeze.]