Latest Posts by thehydraethereal - Page 3
THANK YOU FOR READING MY BABY, oh gosh
FRIGHTENING NEW WORLD
WE DRANK LOYALTY IN VINES...
...BUT YOURS TURNED TO BLOOD IN MY MOUTH.
⇀ word count: 1.1 K
⇀ pairings: dark! Sam Wilson x reader | dark! Bucky Barnes x reader (implied) | Joaquin Torres x reader | ✶✶✶
⇀ warnings: dark dark dark content, 18+ MDNI | violence; power imbalance; phsychological horror; blood: restraints; threats; mentions of rape; mentions of domestic violence; mentions of forced infertility; dacryphilia; swear words, my work is dark and triggering. You are responsible for your own media consumption.
⇀ author's note: i've finished this in ONE sitting, wow. I loved CABNW and this occured in my mind as soon as I finished watching it. Reblogs, comments, and more REQUESTS are appreciated. BUCKY BARNES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST |
⇁ tags: my soul sister @highonmarvel xxx | If you want to be added to my taglist, let me know. I love you all so so much! Thank you for reading!
Oaxaca, Mexico
You had never believed that the sun might shine over you again, but here you were, strolling peacefully through the bustling market, a woven basket nestled in the crook of your arm, its handle tangled in your fingers. Your gaze lingered on the ripe, sun-kissed fruit— apricots, blushing peaches, nectarines, and ruby-red strawberries—while the air swelled with their honeyed fragrance, laced with the mellow sweetness of…plums.
Even after almost one year, the scent rose stripes of terror up your spine, and whenever you saw their blue–burgundy color, the broken ribs, the slaps, the punches, even his gaze flooded your mind altogether.
The anxiety attacks were fewer, shorter and less frightening every week, but your previous life still lingered in the back of your head. The wounds were long healed, but small scars were visible here and there—up your arms towards your shoulders, on your thighs, littlest ones on the crook of your neck and up your jaw and one people were…not able to see. After he took your freedom, broke your will, terrorized you even of your own shadow, he took your right and your ability of…ever having a family of your own. Your pained gaze often fell upon children around your house, in the village and it was like his reminder that said ‘I did this to you. You’ll never have one of your own.’, and it always made you turn your head away from them nauseously.
You never thought you'd be able to flee James Barnes, you thought it was impossible and it truly was. But some divine force must have helped you gain the bravery you never knew was inside you, and guided you all the way here, in this forgotten speck on the map.
The bells of the wide church —the only major social point in the town, situated right next to the market— rang loudly, in an oddly comforting way and you inhaled deeply as you adjusted the long skirts of your summer dress.
A loud explosion interrupted your beautiful life, and you fell on the road. Dust, mud and pulp of crushed, rotten fruit from the ground stained your new dress and you let out a broken sob when you also saw blood on your palms. Small cuts lingered on the raw skin, and you struggled to get up. The freshly bought fruit were long forgotten in the dirt as you looked disorientated around and your teary eyes caught a pair of coal black ones.
Your heart leapt out of your ribcage when you remembered the face. Sam Wilson, a shadow from your past, was James’ best friend. His eyes glinted when he recognized you. He was like a falcon—you never doubted his superhero name—and you were most afraid to hide away from him back then when you ran.
You never got the chance to see the smirk that planted on his face because of how swift you turned your head away, somehow pleading to the divine force to help you again and make him forget your features. But a man about your age already got his orders about you.
Joaquin Torres furrowed his brows in confusion when he heard Captain America's orders.
"So let me get this straight— you want me to gather all the bad guys and jus' throw them in the cars myself, man? Are-are you sure 'bout this?", the young man asked, looking around him.
"Do you think you can handle them?", came the voice from the other side of the phone to which Joaquin nodded vigorously to himself, then replied affirmatively and maybe too excitedly.
"Good, we'll meet at the agreed location in short time. I—", finished the older man, looking at the tiny, cozy cottage before his eyes, "—have some business to take care of."
You were stuffing clothing items in a bag with one hand and with the other you were looking through the bedside cabinet for your passport and cash. Tears ran down your face ever since you arrived home from the market and you simply couldn't stop them, despite the will to do so.
You zipped up the bag and you pulled on a pair of clean shorts and a large tee with leafy hands and then you climbed down the stairs. Regret, anger, fear, all these ate at you.
"It's good to see you again, honeybee!"
You almost stumbled across the last stair when the words hit you. Your lungs were rejecting the oxygen as more tears fell when your eyes caught the ones you knew so well.
His hands were carelessly caressing the chair before him, his gaze sticked on your trembling figure.
"You know, I really hoped to catch a glimpse of the pretty sight standing in front of me now earlier, it would've spared my pal of much suffering."
"Suffering?", you whispered, finding the voice under all the bitterness in your throat. "H-he suffered? He was the one t-that suffered?"
"Oh, and how he did. He refused to eat the week you left, he barely slept for months, he spent millions on men, private detectives, all types of shit just to find you. I also highly doubt he fucked since you decided to disappear into thin air."
Your face contorted into a disgusted grimace as you took a small step back.
"Honeybee—", Sam growled as he started approaching you, "—I'd reallyyy like to give you a nice, lil' chance to get the fuck outta this house and go back with me, but I'm afraid you lost that right looong ago."
You couldn't even resist when his rough, confident grip fell over your freshly healed wrists, and when you felt your back pressed into his broad, sculpted chest, a whimper escaped your lips.
Sam bent you on the counter and your face fell into the flowers you picked from your garden in the morning and you tried to block everything, simply not wanting to believe this was happening. You really believed you would be free and at peace, protected and joyful for the rest of your life. How pathetic and far away those hopes sounded. Scratchy plastic secured your hands together as Sam grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you up against him again. He knocked the door open with his foot and started pulling you out of your comforting shelter.
"Sam, I am begging you, don't t-take me back to him, pleaseeee.", you started crying as he forced you outside your home. "You can't d-do this t-to me, Sam, you can't! Y-you were my...my friend, too."
Sam slapped his palm across your mouth to muffle the screams, or maybe to stop the words that made him feel so guilty from coming. "I am James' friend, not yours. My loyalty is his, and everything you've done hurt him. Now it's jus' fair you suffer too, ain't it?". These words hurt more than anything he did until now. Sam knew what Bucky did, he had seen the bruises, he had heard the cries, yet he had done nothing against it. And maybe that unsettled you, but now? Now he was forcing you into the wolf's fangs, and it felt completely different.
Your lost eyes caught one of your neighbors, Ms. Solís , at the window. Another whimper escaped you pleadingly, directed to her, but she did not dare to do anything. Nobody ever did.
Your knees buckled under your own weight, and you collapsed in the dust despite Sam's grip. You heard him scowl and his hand came to the back of your shirt. He gripped it and pulled you up against his body again. You sobbed and you tried to elbow him but Sam was swifter. He caught your tied limbs and grasped. "Fuckin' walk, bitch. Bucky would want to teach you to behave first, but I don't mind starting myself right now, you hear me?". The threat made you cry harder and when Sam gripped your arms even harsher you nodded weakly. What Sam was doing to you felt like a short training considering what would wait for you back in New York.
A black SUV was parked there, behind some wide Madrone bushes. Your heart was beating so fast you thought it might just burst right there. You hoped that, if you were to be honest.
"S-sam, just know th-that if you're taking me back....he'll k-kill me—", you tried calling Sam's mercy out one last time. He just turned his head away, letting your words fall into the abyss of desperation and nothingness.
A younger man peeked from behind the vehicle. His smile dropped when he saw your trembling form. His eyes darted from the blood on your chin to your restrained and bruised arms. Hair was cascading over your face and your lower lip trembled as you fought with yourself to stop the sobs and whimpers. Joaquin thought you were so beautiful. So, why were you here in this state?
"Whoa, man, what's happening? What did she do?" Joaquin started, coming closer to you with raised hands, showing you you don't have to be afraid of him. You still flinched when his caring hands came in contact with your pained limbs.
"Leave her as she is, Joaquin...", said Sam and you looked desperately at the man your age. He furrowed his brows and looked at his superior. "B-but—"
"You wanna be the next Falcon, don't you?" Sam asked, patting the younger man on the shoulder.
"Yes, of course I do!"
"Then—", Sam started again, looking into the boys' eyes, "—you gotta learn to close your eyes at certain things. These are the stories media don't care about, you hear me? The majority of people get saved, everybody's happy, but you should know there are...collateral victims. And she's one of 'em. Now, buddy, if you really wanna be an Avenger...put her in the car."
Joaquin took a big step back, accidentally bumping into you. He quickly caught you, preventing your body from falling again, and then looked back at Sam, which raised his brows and his hands, as if he was giving Joaquin an offer he couldn't refuse. And Joaquin didn't refuse it.
He opened the car door and he tried to carefully place you in the backseat. " 'm sorry, so sorry...", he mumbled as he gave you the pill Sam told him to. "This'll help ya sleep, okay?"
"P-please, please help me—', you cried, looking into his regretful eyes as he forced the drug past your lips.
"Shh, shhh...you'll be jus' fine, 'kay? Be good now, please—".
You knew you will be anything but fine. Sam and Joaquin both entered the car and as Joaquin was starting it, Sam dialed a number and put the phone on speaker.
"Buck, I think I've found somethin' that's yours, buddy. And you'll be really thrilled to see it...", Sam laughed, smirking at you in the reviewing mirror.
The quietness that followed the sentence was short, but dense.
"Hello, doll...", came the voice from the other side of the phone, and its maliciousness and calmness made your whole body shiver. He knew you were there. He was sure of it somehow. You felt his presence right there, in Sam's deeds, in the dark sky, in your rapid, choked sobs, in your heavy lids.
That fucking nickname wrote right then, right there the end of your world and marked the beginning of the Frightening New World.
ahhh i'm so happy rn thank you thank you thank you!
I'M SURE YOU'LL EAT THEM UP, I'M SO EXCITED TO SEEEEE WHAT YOU'RE GONNA WRITEEE
for inspo, you could use my PROMPTS if you want to, they helped other writers too lol
p.s: im soooo embarrassed to send you theseeee, you're so amazing and don't need my shit, but idk, I can only hope they help idkkk
WAITTTT IM OBSESSED PLS THEY’RE AMAZING STOP
literally going to pull from these at some point omg tysm <3
Would you mind to do Brock Rumlow, all scarred up having nonconsensual sex with a woman he has an age gap with...he is doing a pent up frustration kind of thing with choking, spanking. He had been hiding out for too long from the goodie two shoes avengers and Hydra.
「 𝐂𝐀𝐓 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄 」
younger.ᐟreader && dark.ᐟcrossbones (brock rumlow)
「 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 」 I really hope I didn't disappoint you, babe...I can't say I love the way this turned out but I wrote it so so quick, I honestly felt inspired.
「 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 」 My content explores dark themes such as nonconsensual sex, abduction, fear dynamics, dacryphilia, choking and MORE. Minors, do not interact! If you are uncomfortable with these, do not interact please! DEAD DOVE CONTENT.
𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐘 「𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓」 𝐌𝐘 「𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒」 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 「𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐋」 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 「𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒」
The uneven surface in the warehouse was rubbing against the skin of your pelvis as you weakly tried to crawl away from the man standing above you. Scars adorned his face, especially the right side, all down to his neck, yet he looked impossibly strong. His broad chest rose and fell as he stared down at you, and you noticed the muscles in his shoulders and forearms flexing. Another tear slipped down your cheek and you screwed your eyes shut as he crouched down next to your shaking form.
"Yeah, I know—it’s not exactly pretty. But trust me, what I’m about to do to you is a hell of a lot uglier.", he sneered, fingers gripping your hair and pulling up your head. You whimpered again, trying to pull away from the painful grip. He didn’t move an inch as he inspected your features with a cold gaze—your busted lower lip, your split cheek, the shadows of purple on your neck and jaw, and the fingerprints on your cheeks, all the way up to your wet lashes that surrounded your pleading, glossy eyes.
He released your scalp with a push and a loud exhale and your chin hit the ground.
His free, calloused hands found your hips and he pulled them up, right under his crotch. A sob escaped you as you felt the hardness rubbing against your thighs. That’s when you tried to push weakly at his abdomen with your tied wrists.
With a growl, he snaked his arm on your chest and he curled his bicep around your throat, effectively cutting off your oxygen supply.
Tears sprung to your eyes again as he was pulling himself out. When you felt his tip poke at your entrance, fear gripped all your senses but your vocal chords. It was all you were left with, after all.
“St-stop, no, please—”, you tried, but he squeezed your neck even harsher in frustration. He wanted you to shut the fuck up. It was crystal clear—this man felt no remorse, guilt, nor pain. He felt nothing.
When you caught a glimpse of his face again in a piece of broken glass which lay in front of you, you flinched hard under his body weight, your pulse rising.
"That face scare you that much, sweetheart? Wait 'til all that is between your thighs.", he ruggedly grunted, pushing in.
Frank Grillo as Brock Rumlow AVENGERS: ENDGAME (2019)
Frank Grillo as Chainsaw Angus DONNYBROOK (2018)
Frank Grillo as Brock Rumlow (looking at Steve Rogers) AVENGERS: ENDGAME (2019)
FRANK GRILLO as BROCK RUMLOW/CROSSBONES CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR (2016)
born to be a Frank Grillo blog, forced to be a Rafe Cameron one 😔
EXACTLY BABE! FINALLY SOMEONE THINKS LIKE ME.
like, i have only started one series with him because NO ONE REQUESTS anything 😭
i'll take him either way, scarred or not, because GOOD. LORD, is he hottttt
my genuine question is why is Brock Rumlow so underrated like...that man is delicious and y'all sleeping on him, I swear😭
FRANK GRILLO Werewolves (2024)
my genuine question is why is Brock Rumlow so underrated like...that man is delicious and y'all sleeping on him, I swear😭
i'm reeeeeally considering to write for Tom Hardy's characters...
⋆⁎✽๛ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 --- for requests
෴ 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑: This content is dark and very triggering. Minors and easily triggered people, do not interact. Your mental health matters. You are responsible for your own media consumption.
෴ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: MY CONTENT IS DARK AND DARK ONLY. My requests are now OPENED. You can request as many fictions as you want, but you have to check out my CHARACTERS LIST and my WARNINGS first. IF YOU ARE ANON, USE AN EMOJI, SO WE CAN TALK MORE <3. Request via my INBOX. Please, also write a short summary of your ideas, do not just send in the number of the promp and the character. Thank you.
𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 I will use for these: Choking; chasing kink; Dacryphilia (tear kink); fear kink; dv + heavy violence; restraints; manhanding and others. Please choose a few in your request.
"You flinch like that again in public, and I’ll give you a real reason to." (1)
"I don’t remember asking what you wanted, sweetheart." (2)
"You can cry if you want. Won’t change a damn thing." (3)
"That’s the problem with you. You never fucking listen." (4)
"Go ahead. Tell me no again." (5)
"You move, and I promise it’ll be worse." (6)
"I told you to sit down. Don’t make me say it twice." (7)
"You think I give a fuck if you’re scared?" (8)
"I liked you better when you knew your place." (9)
"You’re only still breathing because I let you." (10)
"See how quiet you can be after I slap you around?" (11)
"You can beg if you want. Doesn’t mean I’ll stop." (12)
"Do I look like a man who’s gonna change his mind?" (13)
"At least make yourself useful, baby." (14)
"You act like I haven’t done this before." (15)
"If you were strong enough to stop me, angel, you would have by now." (16)
"C'mon, baby, don't cry...we haven't even started." (17)
"I'll destroy your pretty face of yours if you do that again." (18)
"Come here. Now." (19)
"I'd suggest you returned because if I catch you...you won't like what I'll do to you." (20)
this is so incredibly well written, you are amazing and so talented! 🥺 thank you for tagging me 🖤
Dinner Party
Inspired by @thehydraethereal ‘s prompts
Warnings: abusive relationship, physical abuse, emotional abuse, unwanted kissing, choking, slapping, alcohol, drug use
You didn’t have to look over at your boyfriend to know that he was displeased, you could feel his frustration emanating off of him in waves.
Across from you, Topper was jabbering away about some Kook vs Pogue nonsense with Kelce; neither Rafe nor you were listening to them. You looked down at your plate of barely touched food and sighed.
To say that you and Rafe had gotten into a fight earlier would have been a gross understatement; just 3 hours ago Rafe was berating you at the top of his lungs when you showed him your first outfit choice for the dinner tonight.
“Are you trying to fucking embarrass me? In front of my friends, in front of my dad?” He seethed, inching closer to you as you backed away.
“No Rafe, I-"
“You already know that he doesn’t like you, Y/N. I don’t know what in your dumb slut brain would make you think that dressing like that would be okay, but it’s not.” He crowded your space, grabbing at the fabric of your dress, and you squirmed in his grasp.
The truth was, this had absolutely nothing to do with what you were wearing, and you both knew it. Too many stressful days at work recently meant that Rafe had been coming home itching to release his pent up frustration, which usually meant picking fights with you.
“You’re not coming to this dinner half naked, either change clothes or you can stay at home.” His lip curled as he glared down at you, both hands firmly gripping your arms to keep you from pushing at his chest.
Tears were already welling in your eyes from his tight grip and harsh words, and as you struggled to free yourself from his hold, he pushed you too hard, knocking you off balance.
You yelped as you hit the floor, your cheek slamming against the hardwood painfully. For a moment you were too dazed to move, and your head ached as you numbly sat up and gingerly touched your cheek, cringing when your warm skin throbbed in pain.
“Do you know what Ward said to me after our last dinner together, huh? Hey, look at me when I’m talking to you,” you whimpered when your boyfriend’s fingers locked on your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.
“He told me he couldn’t figure out why I was spending so much time with a ‘piece of Pogue trash.’”
You swallowed hard, uncomfortable under his cruel glare; and the frustration and shame bubbling up in your gut made you feel sick. You couldn’t stop the frown that tugged at your lips or the tears that were now sliding down your cheeks.
“Ward thinks you’re a gold digging slut and that you’re in over your head,” he rolled his eyes as he spoke, but you knew that some part of him did care about what his father thought; and the idea that Rafe might think those things about you too cut you deeper than you expected.
“I know that you’re not,” he added. “but it’s about the way it looks, Y/N, you know that.”
Rafe eyed your cheek, bringing his hand up to touch the tender skin and you cringed, trying to pull away from him, but your boyfriend held you in place, softly stroking your puffy cheek, before placing a delicate kiss there.
Sometimes the way his moods would switch so fast made your head spin, and trying to keep up only led you to be more confused.
“I’m sorry, I… got a little rough. I’ll start a warm bath, and I’ll get your outfit ready for you, okay?” His voice was softer now, gentle even, “Want you to have plenty of time to make sure your makeup is perfect, baby.”
“Y/N, have you been making any more progress with your internship?”
Ward’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and back into the present. You forced a smile as you turned to meet his eyes.
“Oh, yes, I actually just got assigned a new project and my company told me they’re planning on assigning me more leadership roles,” you beamed, finally happy to have something to brag about to Rafe’s father.
Your confidence was quickly shot down however with his next question.
“And are they going to start paying you?”
You could hear the unsaid part loud and clear, ‘so you can finally stop living off of my son’s dime?’
“Um, well,” you stuttered. “Technically it’s still an unpaid position, but this is a really good job for my subject field, a-and the experience will look really good on my resume. Most of the people in my classes are also in unpaid internships.”
Ward gave you a tight grin, one you knew was insincere and you tried not to feel disappointed by his response, but when you glanced over at Rafe, you knew you had only annoyed him more. Your heart sunk, and your mind raced to think of something to say to fix the situation.
“Isn’t Rafe starting a new project soon though?”
Rafe coughed, choking on his drink before clearing his throat and turning to look at you, “nah, Y/N, I think you’re remembering a past project.”
“What are you talking about Y/N?” Ward asked, and you felt your mouth go dry as you looked between him and your boyfriend.
Rafe’s face was even as he took a sip of his jack and coke, but you couldn’t miss the anger in his eyes, and you swallowed before shifting your gaze to Ward.
“N-nothing. Rafe’s right, I was confused. That was what he was working on last summer.” You covered for him quickly, stomach twisting when you glanced back over at your boyfriend.
Now the memory returned to you in full, Rafe telling you over a shared blunt in his hazy room about his plans to score a deal so big he’d never have to work again. The only problem was you’d forgotten one detail.
“Ward can’t know,” he passed you the blunt after ashing it into the tray on the bedside table.
“What, why?” You took a hit, inhaling the smoke deep into your lungs before handing it back to Rafe.
He didn’t answer, taking a long drag of the blunt and then lazily blowing the smoke up at the ceiling.
“He’d freak out if he knew the details, you would too,” he chuckled. “So don’t ask about it, and don’t mention anything to him.”
You pursed your lips, disappointed in the lack of details, but you understood and you had no choice but to trust Rafe, so you didn’t press further.
Ward accepted your excuse, and the conversation moved on to other topics, but Rafe was still simmering with barely disguised anger, and you didn’t miss the fact that he was on his fifth drink of the night.
The dinner was beginning to wind down, waiters soon appearing to remove the empty plates from the table before bringing out desserts. You picked at the slice of pie in front of you, too nervous to eat much of it at all.
Sensing your discomfort and still aiming to pass the two of you off as a normal couple, Rafe leaned in to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and that was when you made your worst mistake of the night.
His finger brushed your sore cheek and instead of leaning into his touch, you flinched, sharply inhaling through your nose as you pulled away from him. Your heart was pounding, pulling you back to earlier that night and you froze in place before suddenly remembering where you were.
To you, the moment felt agonizingly long, though it couldn’t have lasted more than a second. Unfortunately, your reaction didn’t go unnoticed.
“What the hell?”
You turned towards Sarah, forcing a fake smile onto your face as you did. “What?”
Rafe’s presence behind you had you on high alert, desperate to salvage this dinner before it collapsed into disaster, and the way he tensed beside you made your pulse pick up pace.
“What was that?” Sarah asked you before shooting a harsh glare towards her brother.
“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you chuckled nervously, playing dumb and hoping she would just drop it.
Her eyes narrowed as she looked between you and Rafe, and you silently prayed that your makeup was still completely covering your bruise from earlier.
“You practically jumped out of your chair when Rafe touched you,” she shot back, catching Ward’s attention now.
Topper and Kelce eyed Rafe knowingly, silent smirks growing as they watched from across the table.
You looked between Sarah’s eyes and Ward’s, mouth dry as they stared you down, “I- I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”
“Is it a crime to surprise your girlfriend?” Rafe challenged with a chuckle, possessively wrapping one arm around your waist and staring Sarah down.
She was silent for a few moments, her gaze flicking between you and Rafe suspiciously.
“I’m fine,” you reassured her with a small smile that didn’t quite meet your eyes.
By the time Rafe was finally able to pull the two of you away from the table, it was late, and you said your goodbyes quickly, trying to ignore the way Sarah’s gaze followed you on the way out.
As soon as the two of you exited the restaurant, his grip on your wrist was firm, tugging you towards the back of the parking lot and ignoring your protests.
“Rafe- that hurts-”
“You think I care?” He sneered, roughly pushing you up against the door of his truck. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
You cringed at his harsh words, eyes low to the ground as he glared down at you. The pit that had been growing in your stomach all dinner felt large enough to swallow you whole.
“Why the fuck would you tell Ward about the deal I’m working on?” His large hand came to your chin, tilting your head up to meet his angry eyes.
“I-” your voice cracked, warm tears misting up your eyes. “I just forgot, Rafe, I’m sorry.”
“You forgot?” He repeated slowly, like you were stupid, and you could feel your throat getting tighter with anxiety. “Nah, that’s the problem with you, Y/N. You didn’t forget, you never fucking listen!”
“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to-”
You heard the ringing in your ears before you felt the sting, and it wasn’t until Rafe’s fingers were threading into your hair to pull you upright again that you realized he had hit you.
Rafe forced your head back against the car door, roughly tugging at your hair to keep you in place.
“You fucking embarrassed me in front of my dad and friends ‘cuz you just couldn’t keep your fucking mouth shut,” he hissed, face so close to yours you could smell the whiskey on his breath. “Sounds like someone forgot her place.”
You whimpered when he tugged your hair again, tears staining your cheeks as he glared down at you.
Rafe’s hand came to your sore cheek, stroking your tender skin before mockingly tapping the soft flesh, “see how quiet you can be after I slap you around?”
“Y/N?”
The sound of Sarah’s voice on the other side of Rafe’s truck made you freeze, and your boyfriend immediately released his hold on you, stepping back as you quickly reached up to wipe the tears from your eyes.
“Yeah?” You asked as you turned to see her, worried that your cheek might be inflamed again after the hit Rafe just dealt you.
“Are you okay?”
“Of course she is.”
“I wasn’t asking you, Rafe.” Sarah snapped, scowling at her brother before turning her attention back to you. “I thought I heard you two fighting.”
“We’re fine, I’m fine,” you lied, plastering on another fake smile. “Just having a discussion, that’s all.”
Sarah’s eyes narrowed as she looked at you and then Rafe.
“You’re sure?”
You paused for just a moment before nodding.
“I just wanted to check in on you and make sure you were okay before-”
“God Sarah, do I have to shove my tongue down her throat for you to take the hint? She’s fine,” Rafe rolled his eyes at his sister, waving her off with one hand before turning his attention back to you, “we’ll see you tomorrow.”
Sarah scoffed, clearly wanting to ask you more questions, but when Rafe ignored her only to push you back against his truck and start kissing you, she let out a groan of revulsion before turning to leave.
You barely heard her say goodbye, too distracted by the feel of your boyfriend’s lips moving against yours and his tongue sliding into your mouth. Your stomach churned as he kissed you, a horrible and confusing mixture of desire and disgust mingling in your gut.
Rafe knew how much you loathed PDA, and you had no doubt this just another way for him to exercise his control over you and punish you for embarrassing him at the dinner. After all, this wasn’t even the first time he’d pulled a stunt like this. It was starting to become a habit.
When his hand circled around your throat, you gasped, and he deepened the kiss, devouring your lips as he held you in place. Rafe’s grip tightened, cutting off your airway even harder now, and you struggled against the tight hold he had on your neck and wrist.
He finally pulled away after what felt like an eternity, and you doubled over, falling to your knees as you gasped for breath and clutched your sensitive throat.
Your boyfriend sneered down at you, enjoying the fear in your eyes when you looked up at his looming figure.
“This had better be the last time something like that happens, Y/N, do you understand me?”
You nodded, sniffling and blinking fresh tears from your eyes as you tried to catch your breath.
“I don’t need Sarah or Ward sticking their noses into our relationship.” Rafe seethed, leaning down to pull you to your feet. His hands gripped your shoulders hard, fingertips digging into your sensitive skin, eliciting another pathetic whimper.
You looked deeply into your boyfriend’s eyes, trying to find any glimpse of softness or remorse for his actions, but instead you were only met with hard, cold blue.
"Don’t ever flinch like that again in public, or I’ll give you a real reason to."
I WANNA FUCKING THROW UP THIS SPARKLED MY WHOLE MONTH I AM SOBBING MY BABYYYYY
MY LOVE IS BACK OH LORD---
hiiii 🤍
wow wow i have to say i had no intentions on disappearing especially for this long, i’ve had soo much going on irl and honestly still do, but i’m finally at a point where i want to try to start writing again though i’m still trying to find the inspo :(
i appreciate all the love and well wishes i’ve gotten while i’ve been gone!! i won’t post them all but i have read them so thank u <3
idk if this is me coming back 100% officially but just wanted to check in and say i’m alive lmao feel free to come say hi or send ideas to spark my inspo again 🤍 ily guyss
still available! ♡♡
⋆⁎✽๛ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 --- for requests
෴ 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑: This content is dark and very triggering. Minors and easily triggered people, do not interact. Your mental health matters. You are responsible for your own media consumption.
෴ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: MY CONTENT IS DARK AND DARK ONLY. My requests are now OPENED. You can request as many fictions as you want, but you have to check out my CHARACTERS LIST and my WARNINGS first. IF YOU ARE ANON, USE AN EMOJI, SO WE CAN TALK MORE <3. Request via my INBOX. Please, also write a short summary of your ideas, do not just send in the number of the promp and the character. Thank you.
𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 I will use for these: Choking; chasing kink; Dacryphilia (tear kink); fear kink; dv + heavy violence; restraints; manhanding and others. Please choose a few in your request.
"You flinch like that again in public, and I’ll give you a real reason to." (1)
"I don’t remember asking what you wanted, sweetheart." (2)
"You can cry if you want. Won’t change a damn thing." (3)
"That’s the problem with you. You never fucking listen." (4)
"Go ahead. Tell me no again." (5)
"You move, and I promise it’ll be worse." (6)
"I told you to sit down. Don’t make me say it twice." (7)
"You think I give a fuck if you’re scared?" (8)
"I liked you better when you knew your place." (9)
"You’re only still breathing because I let you." (10)
"See how quiet you can be after I slap you around?" (11)
"You can beg if you want. Doesn’t mean I’ll stop." (12)
"Do I look like a man who’s gonna change his mind?" (13)
"At least make yourself useful, baby." (14)
"You act like I haven’t done this before." (15)
"If you were strong enough to stop me, angel, you would have by now." (16)
"C'mon, baby, don't cry...we haven't even started." (17)
"I'll destroy your pretty face of yours if you do that again." (18)
"Come here. Now." (19)
"I'd suggest you returned because if I catch you...you won't like what I'll do to you." (20)
I am genuinely tweaking, the waiting for a new chapter is OVER, but it was SO WORTH IT. I loved seeing more of their non-horny state of mind and the unnoticed effect reader has on each and every one of their minds, it is simply delicioussss. Catfish and Joel are my MEN, I am so serious, and their contrast is eating at me.
ATE THIS UP BABE!
surrender
Summary: Catfish is made to choose.
Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOOOOT EATTTT. Noncon, dark dark themes, sexual slavery, reader is in pain and exhausted, heed all previous warnings, threatening, Dark Joel, forced drinking, manipulation, mentions of noncon, idk what else to tag
Pairings: Dark! Joel Miller x reader, Dark! Javier Peña x reader, Dark! Marcus Acacius x reader, Dark! Oberyn Martell x reader, Dark! Agent Whiskey x reader, Dark! Dieter Bravo x reader, Dark! Frankie Morales x reader
Joel felt over aware. As he sat down on the brittle wooden chair, fingerprints drawing circles on the table, the whiskey slid easily down his throat. Something he had gotten from trading with Jackson.
Your image dwindled on his mind, growing weaker by each passing minute. Naked, battered and bruised. He knew you were in pain, pretty cunt gaping obscenely. He knew that he could just crawl over you and fuck you once again if he wished it. You still laid in his bed, bathed and draped in new sheets, awaiting.
The door creaked open, the afternoon breeze accompanying the intruder of his thoughts. Whiskey’s shoulders squared with pride and his chest puffed, closing the door with a cocky kick of his heel.
Joel observed him as he strutted towards the table. His arm stretched under the thick denim of his jacket, and he presented his palm with a cocky grin.
The metal was tarnished, coppery, but the outline was clear. A tiny helicopter pin, Whiskey offered.
Joel felt amusement tug at his lips, but he schooled his expression. The pin clattered against the table, Joel’s eyes glued to it.
Sweet fucking Bingo.
The key to make you finally un-cling to Catfish right in his hands. He took it in his pointer and thumb, observing the way the kitchen light caught onto it.
Whiskey hummed, snapping him out of his thoughts once more.
“I think this settles for a good hour…” He drawled, eyebrow cocking teasingly. A part of him was joking, and the other part of him created a prominent bulge in his pants.
Joel avoided a disgusted scrunch of his face, fighting twitching muscles.
“She’ll need a break for tonight.” He declared, a solemn order that wiped the smirk off his man’s face. "But you'll be rewarded for this, that I promise."
Joel would he lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the way Catfish flinched as the refrigerator door slammed closed under his grip. The cool, condensed bottle sent jolts along his hands. He was buzzing with excitement as he twirled on his feet and planted the bottle on the table with a slight thump.
He ignored the hollers of enjoyment of his fellow men, kicking the chair and taking a seat. Catfish froze under his stare, the all consuming guilt, he pondered.
He grabbed the tumblers on the table, filling them up. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. He poured more onto the last one, and pushed the glass to his designated driver.
Catfish’s brows furrowed under the baseball cap, shaking his head slightly. Joel could see the circles under his eyes, could feel the tenseness of his tanned skin; all a result of you. Your stay in the house was driving him mad.
“Not drinking tonight.” Catfish grumbled, but Joel tapped the glass in front of him.
“You’ll need it.” He muttered, enough to make the others cast side eyed glances at him, with sneaky intrigue. An order.
Javier cleared his throat, flicking ashes into the tray. “How’s the bitch?”
Bitch. Joel liked the ring of that nickname.
Joel’s lips curled into a sloppy smirk. “Fucked out.” He responded casually. “Giving her some damn rest, she took it like a champ.”
Javier smiled in agreement, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Catfish’s hand tense around the condensed glass. Of course he wouldn't enjoy the way they talked about her.
“Gonna bring some ‘plan b’s tomorrow.” He informed, gingerly. “no need to knock her up.”
Joel felt his muscles turn taut, and he grounded his teeth.
“Definitely.” Dieter added, with an air of authority he shouldn’t have. “No need for a little fucker here.”
Some laughed, Oberyn tsked, eyes dreamy as always. “She’d look nice, all round, those tits would be something I’d die for.”
The chair screeched as Catfish rose to his feet, still clutching the tumbler in his hand. Eyes shot at him.
“Where ya going?” Joel barked, a bit more forceful than he would wanted to. God, adrenaline was nibbling at him.
Hatred.
It spread all around Catfish’s face as he looked at them. As if he was any more worthy than they were, any more good. A look he had from the very first time, when Joel recruited him, that told him he thought he was far above them.
“I’m going to bed.” He answered, though his feet stayed stuck to the ground, awaiting.
“No, you’re not.” Joel nudged to the chair. Catfish sat down with a sigh. Good boy.
“What’s the matter?” Acacius frowned, leaning back into the wooden seat. “Don’t like us talking about her like that?”
Catfish’s jaw twitched.
“You never had an issue before.” Whiskey added, the thick smoke of his cigar curling around him in the air. "you even fucked some bitches back then."
Catfish took a sip of whatever was in his cup, perhaps to deter the questioning, perhaps because of the way Joel burnt holes into his skull with his eyes was making him uneasy.
And they persisted.
“You are too soft on her,” Javier deemed between curls of smoke. "that's why she clings so much to ya."
They agreed silently, and Joel felt the flames of jealousy licking at his spine. Each time you mumbled his name softly, he could almost feel the need in your voice for it to be him. To be Catfish the man that was pleasuring you.
As if he was the only man that could do it.
"What were you talking about in the shower?"
Catfish's face paled, but he still cleared his throat. "Nothin'."
"Didn't sound like nothing." Joel bit, studying carefully the nervous flicker of Catfish's hands. "She wants ya to fuck her?"
Catfish grimaced at the crassness of his words, untouched by the way Joel dipped his hand onto the pocket of his shirt.
"She's loosing her mind." He cleared, voice a plea, an excuse, whatever. It didn't matter to Joel.
He shrugged before dropping the pin onto the table; Catfish's eyes flickered from the dark onyx pools that gazed slowly up at him and the tarnished metal that clattered against the table.
His lips parted.
Bingo.
"How's your boy?" Joel drawled, tapping his big, imposing fingers on the wooden table. For a mere moment, he was alone with Catfish, just them under the warm lamp light. "What was his name, Tyler?"
"Joel." Catfish groaned, eyes glued to the silver helicopter.
"When was the last time you saw him, huh?"
Hands curled onto fists, and they slammed against the table. Enough.
Perhaps Joel was blissfully ignorant of the men around them, but Catfish was painfully aware. They were the only thing deterring him from pouncing on top of him.
"What have you done?" He spat, voice shivering.
Joel chuckled darkly, "Nothin'." He retorted.
He could see the way silence clawed at his ears, oh so begging for an answer.
"I haven't done anything, yet." Joel punctuated, slowly feeding him. "Just like you haven't fucked our little bitch yet."
Realization casted on Catfish features, and he shook his head on instinct.
"Joel, this is serious-"
"You know what is serious to me?" He cut him short. "That I cannot possibly trust one of my men anymore, just because he is pussy-whipped with a pussy he doesn't even fuck."
Joel's glare was intense, diminishing Catfish with his sharp tongue.
"And if I can't trust ya, then I have no reason to keep evading that little camp were your son is at."
His final jab made Catfish's eyes cloud with frustration, tears almost brimming. Fear bubbled in his throat as he spoke.
"What do you want from me?"
Cracked.
"You have to fuck her."
Catfish let out a dry, humorless laugh. Panic was nipping at him.
"What do you win from that?"
Joel's brows furrowed. "I miss the times were you just obeyed."
But as his hand reached over to the pin, Catfish spoke again. "Fine, Joel, fine."
Sweat beaded at his forehead just below his baseball cap, and his puppy dog eyes were wide, fearful.
A smug grin tugged at Joel's lips, triumphant in all it's glory. He downed the glass and rose to his feet in anticipation.
"You don't mean-"
"Yes, now. Finish your drink."
Tags:
@tateypots @koshkaj-blog @paink1llerf0rm1ller @oldloganslittleslut @purple-fig @megjohnston23 @katwriteshardy @natalieispunk
@puduvallee @pedrofan @rant-throw-away @jalepp @lumpatto @miragens-para-uma-vitoria
can i request kinda part two of frigtening new world please? it is soo good, the tense is >>
I will get to it, love, I promise. I have small hints and ideas, but elaboration of the plot from you would help a lot. However, I have many requests and WIPs I prioritize and want to finish first. But I WILL write a part two, hopefully asap.
p.s: thank you for your kind words, you have made my day, really! ♡
throwback to this 😭 THANK YOU AGAIN ML
Can i request a rafe cameron oneshot please? With daddy kink, something like Rafe manipulating reader into believing he's the only one who would love her since not even her dad loved her, it can start with them figthing and making her cry just to console her with the same hands that hurted her <3
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: ᴀʙᴜsɪᴠᴇ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ; ᴀʙᴜsɪᴠᴇ ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ; ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ; ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ! ᴋɪɴᴋ; ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ɪssᴜᴇs; ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ. ᴅɴɪ ɪғ ᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴜɴᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ!!!
ᴀ/ɴ: ᴀʜʜʜʜ, ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ ɪssᴜᴇs sᴏ ᴛʜɪs ʜɪᴛ ʜᴀʀᴅᴅᴅᴅ! ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴀʜʜʜʜ! (ᴛᴀɢ: @rvfecamerons ɪʟʏʏʏ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ᴜ ғᴏʀ ʙᴇɪɴɢ sᴏ ᴋɪɴᴅᴅᴅᴅ)
ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ
You stand in the dimly lit living room, your heart pounding as you watch Rafe pace back and forth. His eyes, once a soft blue that you loved, now seem dark and unreadable. He's furious. You don't know why, but you assume it's his father. You’ve been building up the courage to say this for weeks, and the words finally tumble out, even though you know you shouldn't say this now.
“I’m leaving, Rafe. I can’t do this anymore.” you whisper, your voice shaking.
The air grows still. Rafe stops pacing and turns to face you. His jaw tightens, and you can see the fury building behind his gaze. You take a step back, regretting your choice of words, but it’s too late to take them back now.
You pity yourself. You know you're not brave or smart enough, actually. That's how you felt your entire life. That's why you thought leaving Rafe. He is everything you aren't: smart, rich, admired. You're just the dumb, overly emotional girl who has never been loved. And also...his agressive acts are getting worse, reminding you of your father. And you hate that with burning passion.
“The fuck did you just say?” His voice is low, dangerously calm, sending chills down your spine. You let out a shaky sob, closing your eyes to stop the tears threatening to fall.
"I asked you a fuckin' question!" he yells, the sudden change of tone making you flinch. When you don't answer, he laughs, half annoyed, half patronising.
"Oh, wow..." he says, raising his hands mockingly, "not so brave anymore, huh?"
"w-well..I-" you start, trying to make your voice sound steady.
In an instant, he’s in front of you, his hands gripping your wrists tightly. The suddenness of his movement and the intensity in his eyes make you gasp. His fingers dig into your skin, and you wince, the pain mixing with the terror that’s quickly rising inside you.
“Are you talkin' back, tryin' to get fuckin' smart with me?,” he shouts in your face. You screw your eyes shut, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Your insticts make you pull away, but his grip tightens. "Hey!" he yells, pulling you into his chest, his hands gripping yours unforgivingly. "Open your fuckin' eyes and look at me!" he demands.
When you don't obey his command, one of his hands leaves your wrist and connects with your jaw. He holds your head up, forcing eye contact, and your teary eyes meet his dark ones, sending new waves of pure terror through your body. The grip on your jaw is painful, but not as the flashbacks that flood your mind.
You remember the way your father used to do the same thing when you talked back or refused to do something he asked you to.
Panic makes you choke on air, and you let out a frightened 'I cannot breathe, R-Rafe...'
The room seems to close in around you, and all you can focus on is the pain in your wrists and the darkness in Rafe’s eyes.
He doesn’t seem to hear you, or if he does, he doesn’t care. “You think you can just leave? Okay, do it, baby! Where you goin'? To your daddy's? That used to beat your ass?.” His voice is harsh, making you whimper. His words hurt more than anything.
He finally loosens his grip slightly, just enough for you to gasp for air. But he doesn’t let go. “You’re not leaving,” he repeats, his voice softer but no less menacing. “Do you understand?”
You nod frantically, desperate to placate him, to make this nightmare end.
For a moment, he studies your face, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he releases your wrists. You stumble back, cradling them to your chest, your tears falling freely now. Your heart races, and you feel a cold dread settle in your stomach. He approaches you again, pulling you into an intoxicating hug. You sob in his chest, tears soaking his shirt. He gently soothes you, caressing your back. It feels so wrong, but yet there you are, letting the man that hurt you also comfort you.
"Daddy's here, baby..." he says, the nickname he gave himself lowkey making you sick. "I love you, only me", he says, smiling as he grips your chin and makes you look at him. "I'm your everything, baby. Never forget that. I really love you, baby..." he whispers, resting his chin on the top of your head.
You nod again, unable to find your voice, the fear still gripping you tightly. You know in that moment that things have changed, that you’re trapped in a way you hadn’t fully realized before. And the worst part is, you’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to escape.
"It's okay, baby...Daddy's here." he finished, making your skin crawl.
hii! i have a request please: dark steve rogers x reader where he is obsessed with her but she is bucky's gf (reader is clueless) steve kills bucky and forces reader to be in a rs with him. their friends notice how quick she got with bucky's bsf right after his death so they hate her for it but she can't say anything bc she's scared
I'VE DONE IT FOR LOVE
bucky's girlfriend.ᐟreader & dark.ᐟsteve rogers
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1.9k words
MY CONTENT WARNINGS && MASTERLIST && NAVIGATION
MY INBOX OPENED FOR MORE REQUESTS
“I’m sorry for your loss, miss.”
You loathe this phrase with a burning passion. Everybody said it with void eyes that lacked any compassion or empathy. The most people gave away from their hearts was pity.
Despite all these, you nodded politely and thankfully at the mayor, and watched him head towards Natasha, Pepper and Tony.
You felt your eyes burn with tears again as your gaze turned to the cause of your agony: your fiancè’s —the love of your life—, your Bucky’s…coffin.
The concept made your insides churn with terrified anguish, the acceptance simply not settling in your mind.
The coffin was carved from plum tree wood, its surface a deep, bruised violet with streaks of dusky red—like veins beneath dying skin. The grain curled and twisted unnaturally, as if the tree had once grown in a place it shouldn't have, somewhere tainted. Bucky loved plums. Every thought about him drained a tiny bit of life out of your soul.
You remembered the day you were announced that the person you loved the most in this world was now no longer alive.
If someone had told you before this would happen, you wouldn’t have believed them. You wouldn’t have believed that you would survive these lacerating, tormenting days. But apparently you did.
However, the idea of everything just coming to an end for you, as well, did not sound bad. You wanted to die. And you gladly accepted the desire of your heart.
“Sweetheart”. The voice behind you slithered through your nerves and coiled in your belly like a serpent. His voice.
The man that you and Bucky trusted with your whole beings was the one that inflicted this absolute hell over your life. You loved Steve Rogers dearly. But apparently he “loved” you as well, and that acclaimed love burned like venom.
You did not turn around. Your body felt planted deep in the soil, with iron roots that kept you still. His forearm snaked around your abdomen and the muscle felt unyielding, a flesh-forged shackle pressing into your bruised flesh, earning a small whimper from you. You screwed your eyes shut to stop the tears of dread from spilling.
His lips attached themselves to the back of your jaw and traced all the way up your mastoid process, his hot breath and moist lips sending shivers down your spine.
“P-please…”, you whimpered at him, desperate fingers clawing at his arm, “...n-not here. Please.”
He growled against your skin and your despondent eyes darted towards Natasha and Sam.
Oh… They could not help you. They didn’t know the actual truth.
Steve started moving and dragged your body along with his, just by Bucky’s casket. A sob erupted your throat as you were forced to stay there in front of it.
His thumb caressed your cheek lazily, as your petrified eyes looked at the horrid thing that lay in front of you.
Steve sighed, and you caught his broad chest tightening with the corner of your teary eye.
“I loved him, but good Lord…I couldn’t stand him having what I wanted, what I was supposed to have”. The lack of mercy in his tone scared you and his words were enough to have tears flowing down your chill-bitten cheeks again. His hand came up and wrapped itself around your jaw, pulling your face closer to his. He did exactly what you prayed he wouldn’t do.
His lips pressed against yours, lacked any warmth or affection, and his teeth bit down on your lower lip in front of all your friends, family and people gathered at the funeral.
The hot droplets fell from your eyes and wetted his face, as his tongue went past your swollen lips. He pushed his body against yours even harsher and your hand shot up to bare yourself on something. And that ‘something’ was your Bucky’s casket. You whined in Steve’s mouth when your fingertips came in contact with the frozy wooden surface, but his lips curled upon yours in a merciless smirk. He was enjoying the disrespectful act so much. Bile raised in your throat and blood was pumping so fast through your veins that, for a moment, you believed your temples would explode.
“Let’s go home now.”, Steve decided when he finally released your mouth and your pleading eyes shot up into his immediately.
“N-no, please Steve, no…T-the funeral hasn’t even officially started”. Desperation clawed at your throat as you wrapped your wrists around his bicep and sobbed heartbreakingly.
“Sweetheart, I was kind enough to even allow you to come here, was I not? Now…don’t make a scene, you really wouldn’t like what happens afterwards". The threat behind his words made you flinch, but you still didn’t let go of him. Your chest pressed to his in an attempt to beg him to let you witness Bucky’s last moments on earth. He didn’t do that. He never listened to your pleas, just as probably…he didn’t listen to his best friend’s when he pleaded for his life.
Steve’s fingers caught your wrist and started to slowly walk you towards the car.
“No. Steve, s-stop. What will they say? Steve, we haven’t even said goodbye, pl-please.”, you choked out as you were walking past the people you knew so well. Sam’s eyes caught yours, and the amount of hatred you saw in them made your gaze fall down in shame.
“Behave.”, the Captain whispered in your ear and you swiftly shut your lips and followed him obediently. You knew what Steve was capable of and you surely didn’t want him to hurt others on your behalf.
‘What a bitch, coming here and puttin’ up all that acting and fake tears, pretending she misses him and now she is leaving with his best friend and not even staying for the ceremony. How disgusting can some people be?’, you heard a couple of elderly women hiss as you approached the small groups of people. You wanted to yell and howl at everybody how your heart was shattered into millions of pieces and how you longed to just mourn your Bucky. You wondered, couldn’t they see your frightened features? Your dried tears? The small cuts on your cheekbones?
No, all they could see was that another man was holding your hand, and it felt as if the word ‘WHORE’ was burnt in your skin with reddened iron. It was always the woman, never the man. It was never: "His best friend took his girlfriend”, but always: “His girlfriend moved on. With his best friend.”
With one last glance, you left your lover behind forever.
Steve and you arrived “home”, at the mansion that once produced you and Bucky only happiness. After years of savings, Bucky managed to buy it and that was like a symbol between the two of you and the beginning of a joyful life together.
Now, after Steve had taken it —he called it a “perfect gift” for the beginning of a relationship— it felt like the walls would constrict around you any day.
The pictures of you and Bucky with your overjoyed faces were now only memories of the empty, saddened walls. You had them down, packed them up and wanted to take them with you to the small cabin your sister had in the mountains and heal there from the loss of your life. But fate had other things in store for you.
Steve hauled you in the dorm that used to be yours and Bucky’s and you audibly gasped. You haven't been here since Bucky’s…death. Since your spitalization after you tried to finish off the pain in your heart.
“Wh-what are we doing here?”, you cried, now jerking away from him, breath sharp with fear.
Steve’s nostrils flared as his fingers gripped around his hip bones. His tongue poked at the inside of his cheek and your shaky hand gripped the door knob tightly.
In an instant, his eyes were on yours again and he pressed to you after a big step. You shrieked into yourself and your breath hitched.
“I was good to you, patient, wasn’t I? Huh?”, he growled and you sniffled, nodding your head as tears sprung to your eyes again. “Answer me.”, Steve growled again and a ‘yes’ caught in your throat like a piece of glass.
Steve’s right hand fisted itself in your hair and you groaned. You had the impression that, from Steve’s hands, Bucky’s blood was still dripping, and your breath was cut from your lungs.
“Le-let go, Steve! Pleaseee—”, you cried at him as he forced you towards the bed.
“No…”, you whispered, already knowing what he was willing to do. “NO! Steve, please…please, Steve, anywhere but here, not in h-his bed, please—”, you struggled to pry off his hands, hyperventilating.
His ruthless fingers came forward and squeezed at your cheeks to stop your incoherent babbling.
You, on the other hand, couldn’t stand this to happen on the bed you and Bucky were to share. You planted your feet on the polished, expensive floor, and tried to elbow at Steve's chest, ribs and stomach.
Unexpectedly, he threw you in front of the bed with force, and you landed with a wail.
“You don’t tell me where I fuck you, when and how, understand? You are my wife now. Mine.”. His unfeeling words made you cry harder and your head was spinning so hard you could barely form out the objects in front of you. An unbearable ring was playing in your ears, blocking everything else but Steve’s words.
“Wife? Y-you k-killed hi-him…”, you stuttered between sobs, fingernails gripping the plush carpet. “I fucking hate you! I ha-hate you, I f-fucking hate you, you psychopath—”, you screamed at him, the anguish tearing at your vocal chords.
Steve crouched next to your shaking body, and grabbed the nape of your neck, pushing your face down. You tried to hit at him, and when you did, he clobbered you and nextly you saw black dots dancing in your vision.
“I can be very good to you, as I was all this time, but everythin’ can get really bad for you. So, close that pretty mouth and watch your tone and language because truuust me…”, he threatened in a sing-song voice, “...I can shut it for you and you won’t like that. There is nothing you can do about it. You are with me now, whether you like it or not.”
You flinched hard as his knuckles brushed the tear-soaked hair away from your bruised face. The sight of your glossy, widened eyes and your sigh-heavened chest rising in sorrow seemed to Steve the prettiest thing in the world.
“I love you, and that’s why I'm asking you to be smart. I don’t want to pick a casket for my future wife too”. His words made you tremble even more, despite your struggle to stop. “I lost the man that was like a brother to me because of you. Now…don’t make me do to you somethin’ I’ll regret later, sweetheart.”
Was...was he blaming you for Bucky's death? Bucky's murder?
You simply nodded, what else were you supposed to do? You felt like your skull was on fire, as Captain's thumb played with your lower lip. His words were getting straight to your head.
He chuckled, as if shaking the previous threats off would make you forget about his dreadful being, and he started to tear off your sweatshirt. You didn’t fight him. There was no use in it. Then, he picked you up and sat you on the bed.
The mattress felt like nails pressed to your naked skin.
“Now—”, Steve groaned, pulling at your panties, making a sob choke you again, “—be a good girl for me…doll.” Steve never called you 'doll'. But he used to know someone who always called you that.
End.
✵⁎ TAGS: @highonmarvel ♡
HENRY CAVILL MASTERLIST .ᐟ⁎✵࿔๛
෴࿔ 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 XXIII 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓, 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑, 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 .ᐟ
MY INBOX IS THE PLACE WHERE WE WILL DISCUSS ABOUT THESE MEN OR WHERE YOU WILL SUGGEST AMD REQUEST CERTAIN WORKS WITH THEM. DON'T BE SHY, GO WILD BECAUSE THE 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑 SOMETHING IS, THE HAPPIER I AM TO WRITE IT. (My ANON list)
IF YOU WANT TO REQUEST SOMETHING, BUT YOU DO NOT FEEL INSPIRED, YOU MAY USE MY CUSTOM MADE, BRAND NEW WHEEL OF INSPIRATION. OR JUST MY 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒.
YOU MAY VISIT THE OTHER DISTRICTS, AND BY THAT I MEAN MY OTHER CHARACTERS AND, MOST IMPORTANTLY, READ MY WARNINGS BEFORE INTERACTING WITH ME IN ANY WAY.
⁎✵࿔ NOTE THAT I AM NEW TO THIS FANDOM, BUT SO EAGER TO START MY JOURNEY WITH ANOTHER MARVELLOUS OLDER MAN. PLEASE, SHOW ME YOUR LOVE BY SUGGESTING ME WHAT TO WRITE OR JUST TALKING ABOUT THESE CHARACTERS. 𝐀𝐋𝐒𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊.
I love you all,
𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒 ✵
post your mediocre art girl. anora can win 5 oscars. who fucking cares
⁎✵࿔๛ 𝐌𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐉𝐈𝐒)
🪼
✨🍄
... list still opened ♡
𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒 | 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐌𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐁𝐎𝐗
I am SO glad this people left and it's just us, a bunch of mentally deranged people, enjoying this beautiful app in everlasting peace mhahahaha
Thinking about Steve Rogers and number 17 (we haven’t even started)
Including age gap, power dynamics, Dacryphilia, fear kink. Honestly thinking about a sickly sweet kidnapper!Steve who’s been stalking reader. “Don’t you think you’re one lucky girl, got Captain America desperate to use that pretty little cunt” and ohhhhh god. He tells reader how special she is, she was made for it, so she better start acting fuckin grateful. Prompt comes in the first time he’s gonna actually use her fully
~~ ✨🍄 for emoji signoff
BEWITCHINGLY FEARFUL
younger.ᐟcaptive reader && dark.ᐟsteve rogers with PROMPT (17)
DARK AND TRIGGERING CONTENT AHEAD, THESE ARE THE WARNINGS.
You crawled your shuddering body in the corner of the disgustingly narrow dorm he put you in a while ago. You didn’t even remember when he had brought you here, the time seemed to dilate and constrict, you didn’t know how long has gone since you were taken from your ordinary lifestyle. The room was barely kissed by a cold neon light from outside of it. The light refracted through a thin glass above the metal door and there was no other source of illumination.
In an instant, the sound of metal howling—the door was much rusted and it sounded infernal every time it was unlocked—made you flinch and bury your lips in the back of your wrist to stop the fearful sobs from escaping.
The unnatural coldness of the neon made your weakened, teary eyes scrunch in pain, but not for long.
The light was tracing Steve Roger’s broad figure, and it made his shoulders and arms look impossibly titanic and all-consuming. Fear was the death of the mind—you knew it—but for you, it was different. Fear made you see grotesque and leviathanic things, it possessed you and your every sense. Or maybe—this was just the effect the man above you had and not your rational feeling.
When he crouched down next to you, the heart almost jumped from your chest. Acidic tears of hatred, anger and frighten ran down your cheeks as his fingers caressed the burning skin of them. You didn’t pull away. You knew better.
“How’s my beautiful girl, hm?”, he started, a faint smug smirk planted on his face.
You swallowed with difficulty, the insipidness of the spit running down your deserted throat and your eyes shot up and bore into his arctic blue ones.
He was Captain America. That one Captain America everyone talked about. He was supposed to protect the souls of his countrymen, not lock young and unwilling girls in the basements of his houses and force them to breathe moldy air in his nightmarish presence.
You whined when his calloused, huge hand wrapped around your jaw and squeezed as he pulled your face closer to his. It hurted so much. “Tell me you want me too, sweetheart. Look how much I love you.”, he grunted, eyes sparkling with sickening hope as his free hand crept between the flesh of your thighs. You tried to close your legs as you pulled your face away roughly, before he even got the chance to plant his poisonous kisses all over it.
Steve clenched his jaw tightly, and you saw the muscles in his knuckles tighten. Like a snap of a bone, his patience cracked and he slapped you across the face. You gritted your teeth as his arms, surprisingly tender, contrasting what he has just done, wrapped around your body. “Can’t you see what you’re doin’ to me?”, Steve asked—as if he forgot the act of violence he threw upon you seconds ago—, forcing your palm over his brutally rigid bulge. It made you feel even more dizzy and nauseous, its thickness scaring you to your core. “I love you, sweetheart, I love you so much. You’re so special.” His heartbeat patted loudly against your back. “N-no…”, you whimpered, trying to get out of his hold. But it was completely useless, strengthening serum was running through his veins and the determination he had in playing with your mind into believing he cared for you genuinely made your skin crawl.
“Sweetheart, show a little gratitude. I saved you from the misery you lived in, and I’ll give you a future by my side, you’ll be the most gorgeous thing on my arm, you’ll have everything you would ever possibly want. Jus’ be good for me, ‘cause you won’t leave this place, so why not make it pleasurable for yourself?”. His hand reached for his jeans and the sound of the zip made you tense again and clench your thighs together in fear even harder.
“I j-just wanna go home…”, you cracked, a sob tearing through you.
Steve shook his head and then, he reached for your face again, his thumb rubbing the tears off.
“F-fuck you…”, you spat, as realization just hit you again and brightened your mind into acknowledging who was holding you, as he pulled you over his thigh, making you staddle it in attempt of stopping your cries... “Don’t you think you’re one lucky girl, got Captain America so desperate to use your pretty little cunt…”, Steve grunted in your ear as he reached out to toy with the lace of your underwear, purposefully ignoring the way you cursed at him.
His words pulled the last string of obedience from you, and, as if you forgot the burn of his slap, you hit him right across the face. You were slowly but surely slipping into madness down there, because no fully sane person, chiefly in your position, wouldn't do that to the golden boy of America.
It did nothing to injure him. However, his gaze turned obsidian, void of any sympathy or human emotion. He inhaled, chest puffing and almost throwing you off his thigh. Your limbs went still as his stare pinned you in place. This was possibly your greatest mistake ever made.
You expected to receive a slap — not a punch. It sent you right on the chill-soaked floorboards. Your trembling knuckles reached for the blood-covered cheekbone, agonizingly gently to wipe it off. The crimson substance was hot on your digits, warming their frozen state.
Steve’s knee fell on your spine, as his merciless grasp tore your underwear off your hip bones. You whined, but the punch drained the life out of you, so you were very feeble and you could do nothing against it but whimper and plead.
If he cared for you, just as he has claimed...why wasn't he stopping when he saw you so vividly and indisputably horrified?
“I fuckin' love it when you're so scared f'me...”, he growled in your ear. Tears made your body convulse, his words giving you the answer to your unspoken question, as he was preparing his thick member to take what he wanted from you, silent screams wrecking your being. Your mind was shouting: 'Please, do not do this. Not now. Not ever.'
“C’mon, baby, don’t cry…we haven’t even started.”
⁎✵࿔๛ TAGS: @highonmarvel
The one and only thing you have to know about me:
What I write is to spread awareness and make my readers uncomfortable through and about the cruel and twisted nature of human beings, especially men.
I feel disgusted about the male characters I write for, I do not find them or their deeds hot, quite the opposite. If you don't agree with me, go ahead and unfollow. If you find what I write 'hot', then you misunderstood me and my purpose was not reached.
And to the other dark writers: you should not write your ideas under the concept of romanticism. I write dark fics to deal with my powerful emotions and my trauma, it's not my kink, not at all.
Fiction is to speak to other people about certain topics, fiction is not for personal enjoyment. That's my opinion, and, of course, you do absolutulely NOT have to agree with me.
what abt a dark best friend’s dad rafe x young reader where it’s noncon and rafe hurts reader
RIBBONS
best friend's daughter.ᐟ reader && dark.ᐟ rafe cameron
Rafe's pupils were blown out, so widely it looked almost inhuman. His grunts were filling the silence of the night, the sounds bumping in the expensive furniture and coming back with thrilling force directly in your ears.
Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, as Rafe's length was pummeling into your tight channel. Elongated, bloody scratches adorned his sharp cheekbones, it was the first and last time of the night you managed to hurt Rafe Cameron. His palms were caressing your now-restrained, sore wrists.
"I had to have you, baby...", he hissed in your ear, accentuating the words with a particularly harsh thrust that made you gasp and whimper furtherly.
"And your family's gone for this month so we'll be spendin' a lotta time together, jus' you an' me". He forced his thick, ringed fingers past your swollen lips. They rested heavy and bitter on your tongue. "I'mma let you scratch my back instead next time, kitten.", he laughed in your terrified face as he rested his bruised cheek on your sweaty forehead.
Oh, gosh.
