#ive known of cruelty and horror since i was too young and i care too much about it and its happening bloody fucking everywhere on the globe

[magnoliamyrrh]

also uhh this is the last horrible thing im gonna talk abt here for a bit bc i need a break from spiral of humanities inhumanity but

seeing videos of out in the open slave markets is really....... . . . .... something

[honeyhan-123]

Doctor Doctor

Summary: With a bullet in his arm, Bucky seeks medical attention and a certain surgeon catches his eye. 

Warnings: non-con, gun play (gun fucking), biker!Bucky, minor descriptions of blood and bullet wounds. 

Word Count: 3k

AN: This was written for the incredible and lovely @the-soulofdevil​ and her 500 follower writing challenge. Congrats gurl, I’m so proud. My prompt was a doctor au. Also, I’ve been watching wayyyyy to much Grey’s Anatomy, pls help me. 

Squares Filled: Biker!AU & Knife/Gun play

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Exhaustion held your body captive as you dragged your feet, your eyes fluttering shut every few steps. Your entire body was sore, your neck cricked from looking down at the body on your operating table for so long and your hands were slightly cramping. The CABG surgery had taken far longer than you had expected, and now nothing was sounding better than going home, opening a bottle of sauvignon blanc and taking a long hot bath. 

You eyes the door for the stairs disdainfully. Deep down you knew you should take them. The attendings lounge was only two floors up but you were dead tired so instead, you plodded along to the elevator, jabbing the up button. Looking back on it you really should have taken the stairs.

The elevator finally dinged on your floor, the doors opening slowly and without even looking, you jumped inside. You only noticed the other occupant after the doors had slid closed. He was tall, impressively built, and his eyes were a stunning shade of cerulean blue. You hated yourself for wondering briefly if he was here visiting a girlfriend. 

However you could tell there was something off about him but, maybe that’s what attracted you. You had always had terrible taste in men. You could feel his body come closer, invading your personal space. A hand reached out to your name tag, his eyes flickering over it. 

‘A surgeon huh? So I guess you know your way around the body.’ 

‘Excuse me?’ The words were barely out of your mouth before he reached into the waist bands of his jeans, pulling a gun from it with one hand, his other pressing the shutdown button on the elevator panel.

‘I need you to do me a favour Doc. I need you to get this bullet out of my arm.’ You stared down the barrel of his glock, your mouth going dry as he continued to speak. ‘Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to press the start button and then the elevator doors will open. You’ll take me somewhere private and you’ll quietly and stealthily get whatever you need to get the fuckin’ bullet out of me. If you even think about calling for help I will blow the brains out of whoever is around. Clear?’ Your heart thudded like a hummingbird’s wings and the turtleneck underneath your scrubs felt far too tight around your throat. 

‘I said. Are we clear?’ He pressed the gun directly between your eyes, forcing the cool metal against your heated skin and you nodded. 

‘Yes.’ You barely managed to squeak out your assent.

‘Sir.’ He added for emphasis. 

‘Yes Sir. I understand.’ 

‘Good girl. Are you ready? And remember, if anyone dies, it’s your fault.’ You nodded once more and watched as he pressed the green start button, the elevator coming back to life. He stowed his gun back into the waistband of his jeans, sending you a look that clearly said he could whip it back out faster than you could scream. But his look was unneeded. You weren’t going to call for help. The people that worked at this hospital were like your family. There was no way you were going to risk any of their lives.

You lead him through various hallways, picking up an abandoned supply trolley as you went until you came across an empty patient room. You gestured for him to sit on the bed as you pulled on a gown and gloves before wheeling the stool over and sitting in front of him. 

He grunted in pain as he pulled his leather jacket off, his t-shirt following soon after. Under normal circumstances you would have cut the material away but seeing him in pain gave you a sick sense of glee. But as you stared at his now bare chest, any sense of joy quickly seeped from you, dread taking its place. It shouldn’t have been as much of a shock as it was to see the pitch black ink staring back at you. He had waved a gun in your face for crying out loud. But still, seeing the dark outline of a wolf on his chest sent a chill through you. Of course this man was a White Wolf. 

‘Scared of a little ink doc?’ The man before you teased a smirk taking over his plush pink lips.

‘Of course not Sir.’ You quipped back. It was only half a lie. You weren’t afraid of the tattoo itself, more of what it represented. You had seen far too many victims of the White Wolves over your time working at Seattle Grace Hospital. ‘I’m going to have to go in blind, I hope that’s okay as I assume you don’t want to be checked in?’ You asked even though you knew the answer you would get. 

‘Obviously.’ His voice was a monotone as he rolled his eyes, your hands sweeping over the blood surrounding the torn skin. The bullet didn’t seem to be too deep which was lucky for him. It would make extraction a lot easier. Once the site was clean you pulled over the IV kit, standing to attach the morphine to the drip before picking up the needle and making for his other arm. ‘No.’ He yanked his arm out of your grip with such force that you stumbled. 

‘Excuse me?’ You were confused as you sat back on the stool, the needle still in your hand. 

‘No drugs. Just get it out now.’ He pulled the needle from you, chucking it across the room as he did so.

‘I’m sorry sir but I have to insist. The drugs will help you stay still through the pain as I extract the bullet.’ No matter how much his pain earlier had helped ease your own you weren’t a sadist. 

‘I said no. I don’t want any drugs, I can handle the pain. Just get the fucking bullet out now.’ He growled and you submitted, scared that the commotion might attract unwanted visitors. Quickly you organised your tray and held the tweezers up to the bullet hole. 

To your surprise, the man barely flinched as you pressed the metal against the tender flesh, searching for the bronze bullet that you could barely make out. You had expected him to yield, allowing you to administer the painkillers but he barely reacted, the occasional hiss or grunt escaping his lips was the only sign he felt anything. 

Finally the bullet came free and there was a clink as you disposed of it in one of the metal bowls. Next you started working on patching him up. Some more blood had spilled from the wound as you had worked and he would definitely need stitches. As you worked you heard your parents voices echo around in your head, telling you horror stories of the White Wolves. 

The gang had been haunting Seattle since the early forties and were often used as bedtime stories told to young children to make sure they didn’t stay out too late. While you had taken your parents warnings seriously growing up, you had always thought they exaggerated the cruelty of the gang. Working in the hospital had changed your mind. Their cruelty was unparalleled and perhaps if you weren’t so afraid of what they would do to your family you might have thought about “accidentally” clipping his axillary artery. He would be dead within minutes but you knew the other Wolves would come around sniffing for answers. 

You struggled to keep your hands steady as you worked but finally you did the last stitch and bandaged his arm. ‘You’re going to have to wear a sling for next 4-6 weeks to make sure it heals properly and isn’t jolted around because you don’t want to be pulling your stitches. Also no strenuous exercise for at least two weeks and after then only light exercise such as going for a walk.’

‘What about fucking?’ Your lips parted involuntarily, shocked at how blatantly he had asked the question.  

‘Erm, well that would count as strenuous exercise but after the two week mark perhaps depending on umm… on how you… on your chosen, erm, position then it should be okay.’ You felt your cheeks heat in embarrassment. You talked about sex and other embarrassing topics all the time in post-care but something about the way his cerulean blue eyes were staring at you so intently had you stumbling over your words like a school girl. 

‘Hmmm… that’s a shame. If I had known this morning was going to be the last time for a while I would have made it something special.’ He mused to himself, his eyes drifting over your dark blue scrubs as you pulled off the gloves and gown. ‘But since I’m here, you could always fix me back up if something happened. Couldn’t you doc?’   

‘Excuse me?’ You asked in confusion, blood draining from your face as he got off the bed and began stalking towards you. You backed away quickly, your hands fumbling with the door as you tried to pull it open only to have his uninjured arm slam it back shut. He twisted your body around so your back was pressed against the wood, both his arms pinning you against the wall as he leaned in. 

‘I think you heard me doc. The same warnings apply. Scream and I’ll kill anyone who walks through that door.’ His breath tasted like cigarettes and his body was hot and hard against you. When you gulped and finally managed a nod, he pulled you from the door, bringing you back over to the bed, forcing you to lean over it. 

He pressed his growing bulge against your ass as he pulled your scrub top over your head, the pale blue turtleneck and your bra following soon after. You squirmed in his arms but despite his injury his grip was steel tight. He groaned against the shell of your ear as he palmed your breasts, kneading them until your nipples began to harden. His breath was hot and heavy against the skin of your neck as his hands moved lower, down to the waistband of your scrubs. He slipped one hand in underneath your panties and groaned out. 

‘Oh Doc, you’re already so wet for me.’ He breathed out and you shuddered against him, trying to squeeze your legs together as tightly as you could. He tutted you, pinching your ass through the scrubs. ‘Behave. You don’t want to know what happens to bad girls.’ You choked back your sob as you nodded and allowed him to push you back against the bed, Your chest resting on the cold sheets. He slipped your scrubs down your legs and continued to play with your clit, rubbing it harshly as you tried to force your body not to react. One hand grabbed both your wrists, pinning them both at the small of your back as he moved.

‘One thing I’ve learnt from girls like you is that you always need something inside of you to feel full don’t you?’ You felt him shift behind you and then suddenly something very cold brushed against your thigh. You struggled in his hold even harder, thrashing your body around the cool metal brushed against your heated lips. You didn’t have to see it to know what it was.

He swirled the barrel around, coating it in the slick that had involuntarily pooled along your lips. ‘No. No! Stop it! Get off of me.’ You tried to buck him off but his grip remained like iron, holding you down against the mattress with one hand as the other eased the barrel inside of you. You thrashed wildly as the cool metal juxtaposed the heat between your legs causing an odd sensation to form. 

You hated the way the edges of the gun moved against your walls, making you feel every tiny ridge in the metal. You hated the way your body was responding to it even more. 

You barely managed to hold back your moans as his pace picked up, becoming unrelenting. The urge to roll your hips back onto him had you shuddering with disgust. Your body shouldn’t be responding like this, it shouldn’t be enjoying it as much as it was. But you couldn’t help it anymore, not when he called you his good girl. Praising you for taking his gun so well. 

The moans started tumbling from your lips and soon enough the coil in your belly had snapped and you pulsated in his arms. Your body convulsed as he slowly edged you down from your high. 

‘See? That wasn’t so bad. I’ve always wanted to have a cunt on the end of my gun.’ You shivered at his words, your senses slowly coming back to you. ‘Here, taste yourself.’ He forced the metal by your face and you wanted to shrink away in disgust, yet the tone of his voice told you that wasn’t an option. Hesitantly, you moved your head towards it, licking a small stripe along the side, praying that was enough to satisfy him. ‘Not like that. Suck it like it's my cock.’ You shuddered and cringing inside, you angled your head to take it like he wanted, terrified that his finger would slip on the trigger. 

You forced yourself to slowly bob your head going up and down the gun’s length, his groans echoing in the room as he rubbed himself against you in time with your movements. Suddenly, the gun was gone and you heard the tell-tale clink of his buckle, the fly of his zipper following. 

‘Please you don’t have to do this. I won’t tell anyone, please.’ You could no longer hold back the tears and they fell onto the mattress beneath you, darkening the white sheets. 

‘I’m sorry Sweetheart, but that’s just not how the White Wolves work. You see, when we see something we want... ’ his face dipped down next to your ear as he whispered into it, ‘we take it.’ And with that he entered you with one long thrust. You cried out at the intrusion. Although you were shamefully wet, you hadn’t been prepared for the sheer size of him. ‘Oh fuck doc. Your pussy’s so fuckin’ tight.’ 

There was no gradual build up. Just straight hard fucking. His balls slapped against your ass as he rutted into you, his pace unforgiving. You screamed out underneath him as you felt one hand wrap around your thigh, circling your already sensitive clit. ‘That’s it sweetheart. That’s such a good girl.’ You moaned as his deep sensual voice penetrated your ears. 

You felt his grip on your hands loosen before it wrapped around your throat, pulling you up against his chest. He felt even deeper like this and your tears ran down your cheeks freely. You hated how every stroke of his cock made you shudder in the best way possible. 

Your hands clutched at his around your throat as black dots started to appear in your vision. Between how breathless you were from the fucking and the crying, it was no surprise that you were struggling to breathe. 

‘C'mon sweetheart. Scream my name for me. Let everyone know who’s fucking this pussy so right.’ He didn’t seem to care that you could barely breathe or that he hadn’t even bothered to give you his name so you choked a meager Sir. He seemed to realise his mistake as he grunted his name into your ear. 

‘Bucky….’ Your voice was hoarse. 

‘Louder.’ He growled and you repeated yourself. ‘Louder baby, louder.’ 

With air you didn’t know you had, you screamed his name for him, the waves of pleasure crashing inside of you reaching their peaks as you did. He groaned into your ear as he kept rutting, riding you out through your orgasm as your body collapsed back on the bed. He thrusted a few more times before hastily pulling out, his seed dripping down onto your ass as he moaned unashamedly. 

‘Well fuck doc. How was that for strenuous  activity?’ You couldn’t respond as he laughed, fabric rustling in the background as he dressed. ‘Didn’t even pull any stitches either.’ He mused to himself and you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Shame washed over you like a tidal wave, pinning you in place. 

You saw him walk around the bed, kneeling down as he came into view. ‘Get dressed.’ His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument, but still, you didn't move. ‘Fine. Stay like that and let the next guy who walks in see your wrecked cunt. Like I give a shit.’ It was only at his brusque words and the reminder that this is in fact your workplace that you finally stood sorely. Your hands reached up to brush away the tears on your cheeks and you see him fiddling with your phone that had been in your pants pockets as you dress. 

‘What are you doing?’ You barely manage to get the words out. 

‘Just getting your number. You never know when having a doctor on call will be handy in my line of work.’ You tried to hide your scoff and failed. 

‘Your line of work? You mean terrorising the streets of Seattle.’ You have no idea where this fire has come from and if you knew better you would have definitely kept your mouth shut.

‘No, I mean running a multi-million dollar enterprise.’ You gulp, swallowing thicky as he stands his chest nearly touching yours. 

‘Running?’ You question, even though you’re not sure you quite want his answer. 

‘Yeah sweetheart. Running.’ His hands lift up and he slides your phone back into your chest pocket. And with a wink sent your way he slips out from the room, leaving you with a sense of dread for the next time your phone will ring. 

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