Dark Fanfiction - Blog Posts
Hiii I’m back from the dead to promote my ao3! I just started this new Dottore series ^_^ id love if you’d check it out. I hope to make into a full series, I also have a lot of other fan fiction ideas I wanna post on ao3!
TW- ED and bullying.
Since creepypasta was really popular in the 2010’s and late 2000’s I feel like I want to kinda show that in the fic. This is kinda something I wanted to talk about but would anyone will be willing to read my stuff if I made some characters have eating disorders or them being bullies or being bullies. I know that these things are pretty dark but those weren’t uncommon in the late 2000’s and 2010’s.
♡♡♡
꒰ 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒's works for 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍 . ꒰ main m. / characters list ꒰ ꒱ PROMPTS ⒈ & ⒉ for requests / ... MY 'READERS' PALETTE / ABOUT 𝐌𝐄 ... ꒱
꒰ drabbles ꒱
✦ ALL I SEE IS RED LIGHTS / ALL I SEE IS DARKNESS { sequel. / II }
✦ PAWN { one shot }
✦ RIBBONS { one shot }
✦ COTTON CANDY POSITIONS { headcanon }
✦ THE CUT THAT ALWAYS BLEEDS
꒰ series ꒱
෴ THE APPENDAGE { MARVEL & OUTER BANKS crossover }
a rafe and jj series is coming reaaal soon, but the AU is of a veryyyy famous and loved movie...Y'ALL WOULD NEVER GUESS😫 but you can still tryyy
𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒'𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 - ˏ͛⑅ ‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⋆ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙ ✦ ⑅ˏ͛ -
espresso red wine ribbon bambi cal. bitch
๛ You are not here by accident. You like it when it hurts a little. Or a lot. Either way, come and revendicate your shade. How do you know which shade is yours? Well, below you wil find the types of readers I write for. And bleed for. Find out which one you are and let me know დ
๛ Remember: you are much beloved and cherished by me. ✦
๛ Find out more about your author (me) here.
ESPRESSO.ᐟreader
₁ Fast-scrolling, and emotionally masochistic ₂ Has trauma AND a superiority complex ₃ Obsessed with mind games ₄ Would genuinely punch the character back if she would get hit ₅ Sharp-tongued ₆ Gets off on power imbalance scenes and calls it “character development” ₇ Favorite color is black. Or rust. Nothing pastel. ₈ Rage buried under control ₉ Keeps her brightness on the lowest setting. Reads the worst parts twice. ₁₀ Guilt is a second skin for her. ₁₁ She’s been through shit she’ll never type out, but my fics? They speak in her language. ₁₂ Addicted to the ache. Can’t stop chasing the darker scenes ₁₃ Eyes that haven’t slept properly in weeks ₁₄ If she doesn’t feel something brutal, she doesn’t feel at all ₁₅ One hand gripping the laptop, the other ready to throw it
RED WINE.ᐟreader
₁ Elegant but unhinged ₂ Reads slowly and feels everything deeply—quotes passages religiously. ₃ Trauma romanticizer with a soft spot for broken men who lie well ₄ Loves candlelit danger, men with blood on their hands, and slow psychological decay ₅ She notices everything. ₆ Leaves long, emotional tags in reblogs ₇ Closet sadist. Emotional devastation is foreplay. ₈ Never acts while angry or sad, admirable strenght and great posture. ₉ Has old voicemails saved she’ll never play again. ₁₀ Reads in silence, like it’s a funeral. ₁₁ Violent scenes do not shock her. Gentle ones do. ₁₂ Knows how to make excuses for people who hurt her. ₁₃ A little bitter, a little romantic, a little exhausted ₁₄ Doesn’t cry often, but when she does it’s ugly and quiet and late ₁₅ Comes to dark fiction to find something she can’t say out loud: “It’s not okay, and I’m not over it.”
RIBBON.ᐟreader
Craves pretty words and brutal truths in the same breath Was told she was too emotional—so now she bleeds in private Her playlists sound like drowning in a flower field Stares at one sentence for ten minutes like it owes her something Sees love as a tragic myth but still hopes for it Too gentle for this world, too self-aware to leave it Romanticizes her pain because it’s the only way it makes sense Sews herself back together with lyrics, dialogue, and soft terror Doesn’t want to be rescued—just understood Finds beauty in characters falling apart gracefully She’s never yelled, but her silence is deafening She wants to be hurt gently. To be ruined with care. NO ONE would guess she reads fics this dark. Reads not to escape, but to understand the ache in her ribs.
BAMBI.ᐟreader
She tells people she’s okay. She even tells herself. But she seeks out fiction that makes her heart race for all the wrong reasons. She wants to be seen, but never found. She grew up too fast and too quietly. Sleeps with a light on, but only reads in the dark. Baby face, brutal tastes Soft voice, sensitive soul but dirty imagination Carries everyone else’s weight. Fiction is where she drops it. Trauma survivor in disguise. Nobody knows what she’s seen. Reads victim-coded fics because she just understands. Wants the monster to love her just a little. She thinks if she can handle it on screen, she can handle it in real life Afraid of him, but keeps reading Flinches when voices get too loud Sleeps with the door locked Kind because no one was to her Doesn't trust happy endings
CALIFORNIA BITCH.ᐟreader
Fucks instead of crying Doesn't read warnings. Loves lollipops. Will literally not be ashamed of what she wants and supports, in fact, she would scream them from a microphone and a stage Heart of the party Requests five fics, and constantly refreshes the page to see if they got posted Gets needy and wet by just imagining the character Built like a femme fatale Looks mean, but is actually sweet. Kind of a bimbo.
Hello, I just recently discovered your blog and oh my! Your works are so amazing! I think you are a fantastic writer,keep it up!
I was thinking maybe you could write a Rafe C. fic based on the prompt number 1.(Wiping off droplets of your blood from the floor, knowing he hates the mess.) i think that prompt has strong Rafe vibes. Maybe he hurt reader so bad and she's trying not to anger him even more so she cleans the mess or maybe he made her clean it(threatened he will hurt her even more)
It is completely okay if you can't or won't write it please do not feel pressured
‧𓍢ִ໋ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒
girlfriend.ᐟreader && dark.ᐟrafe cameron
CONTENT WARNING(S)
You widen your eyes at the crimson droplets that stain the cold, golden veined marble. The polished surface mirrors your tearful eyes and, right under the right one, a deep cut is adorning your cheekbone.
You haven't even realized you were bleeding, the flesh of your face feels numb.
"Shit!", Rafe yells, and the awfully loud sound makes your whole body jump. He shakes his hand in pain, knuckles visibly reddened, and his rings are slightly pink from the blood of your wound.
Mindlessly, you try to crawl further from Rafe, which is now cursing out loud at you. "Why do you always make me be like this? You're supposed to shut the fuck up and be by my side!", he growls, lip twitching in disgust as he looks down at you. "But no, you had to play the good samaritan."
He is angry at you that you were on Sarah's side. Your heart broke when you heard Rafe, your boyfriend, tried to literally drown her, so, of course you had to say something to him, you had to confront him. And, of course, that would get you all bloodied and bruised.
"God...", Rafe grunts, wiping at his nose with his thumb and index finger. "Great, now I look like i'm the bad fuckin' guy again, huh?".
You flinch at his words, a stray tear running down on your throbbing cheek again.
His eyes shoot up at you, his wild gaze now stern and fixed on your shaky being. His gaze freezes the blood in your veins. Rafe was always unpredictable and that makes his disorders of behavior even worse and more terrifying.
Your whole body tenses, not knowing what to expect next. But instead of approaching you, Rafe's eyes dart towards the floor and you can see his brows furrowing. Pit settles in your stomach as you realize his eyes have fallen on the blood. Your blood.
"C'mhere...", he commands and you whimper, shaking your head. "Come. Here.", Rafe repeats and you slowly crawl towards his feet.
Your eyes raise and catch your boyfriend flaring his nostrils. His hand fists in your and you cry out. "That’s your fault.", he growls, nodding his head towads the stain of crimson liquid. "So, if I step in fuckin' blood, I'll make sure there's more of it pretty fast.", he finishes, releasing your hair with a disgusted push.
"Clean that shit up.", Rafe finishes, walking outside. You wipe the blood away with your sleeve, watching the color spread on the soft, clean fabric.
MY NOTES: thank you for the encouragement, you genuinely do not know how much your words mean to me, nonnie. I love you sm! Hope you enjoy this and thank u for requesting
⁎✵࿔෴𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐄
My name is 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒, I'm European and I am a young soul. This is what you have to know about me:
𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐑(𝐒): Burgundy, Maroon, Scarlett, Navy Blue, Forest Green, Baby Blue, Baby Pink.
𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊(𝐒): COFFEE. And Granita.
𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄: Ribbons and bows. Biceps. Vogue routines filmed by celebrities. Hailey Bieber. Water. Older men. Cats. Leopards. Dark clouds and storms. Nighttime. Early mornings and crisp air. Pines. Perfume. Mascara. Spicy chicken burgers. Wired earphones. Purses. Short skirts. Large shirts. Sunglasses. The moon and stars. Lacy underwear. Showers. Curly hair. Pinterest. Messages and asks (on tumblr). Gum. Mangoes. Pop Music. Polaroids.
𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐒: Feminism, history, geography, philosophy, phsychology, literature, poetry, mathematics.
𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐒: Chris Evans, Brad Pitt, Daniel Day-Lewis, Frank Grillo, Tom Hiddleston, Heath Ledger, Jodie Foster, Demi Moore, Jonathan Rhys Meyers, Natalie Portman, Aaron Taylor Johnson, Henry Cavill, Tom Hardy, Colin Farrell, Sebastian Stan, Angelina Jolie.
𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: Rafe Cameron, Steve Rogers, William Wallace, Achilles, Brock Rumlow, Pietro Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Thor Odinson, Loki Laufeyson, Sarah Cameron, Emperor Geta, Marcus Acacius, Andrew Barber, Ari Levinson, Curtis Everett, Nick Fowler, Lloyd Hansen, Steve Abnesti, August Walker, Walter Marshall, Cyrus Hanks, Benjamin Martin.
𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐒: 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗩𝗘𝗟, Outer Banks, Pedro Pascal, Chris Evans, Lana del Rey, Chris Hemsworth.
𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐈 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 ?: The darkened side of the human nature has always fascinated me, and I believe that by writing what I write, I will understand how it works even better so I decided to share with you what is blooming in my mind, to explore new points of view and to not just let my creativity die. Writing is also my coping mechanism.
𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐌𝐘 (𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋) 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐒 ?: No, actually, not at all. It is a response to the trauma and issues I have, I do not find what my characters do attractive. It is only for creative and fictional purposes. DO YOUR RESEARCH about this topic, it is not my bussines to explain how dark writers and readers' minds work.
𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 ?: It depends. If I feel inspired by it, I will write it in one hour or one day. If the request doesn't really appeal to me, I will delay it and prioritize what inspires me. Some requests really inspire me, but I take more time with them, because I'm a perfectionist and I want them to turm out good.
𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ?: If you are following me for a good amount of time now, you will know pretty well my love for @highonmarvel. I could write pharagraphs about her. Also, my Pedro side is dedicated to @pedrosyouknowwhat, her talent is brilliant. My mother, literally, is @rvfecamerons, she inspired me to write for Rafe. Her writing and talent is out-of-this-world.
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐘 𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒 ?: OH, I LOVE asks. People really don't understand how important their support is, every single encouraging message or comment warm my heart and help me keep going.
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐈/𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐈 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐘 ?: You can ask me to talk about certain celebrities, about my fics, about a character, about life experiences, but I will definitely not reply to very intimate questions. Hate is also gross, just scroll and block me if you do not like what I say or write. Literally.
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐔𝐌𝐒 ?: The Tortured Poets Department, Midnights, Born to Die, Lust for Life, Eternal Sunshine, Evermore, Folklore, Hit Me Hard and Soft.
𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒 ?: Lana del Rey, Taylor Swift, ABBA, Gracie Abrams, The Neighbourhood, Arctic Monkeys, Ariana Grande. THESE ARTISTS INSPIRE ME. IF YOU DO NOT HAVE RESECT FOR THEM, GO AHEAD AND BLOCK ME.
(𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓) 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒: The Albatross, I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can), The boy is mine, Video Games, Cherry, Forever Young.
𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐈 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐎 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐀𝐋 ?: No.
𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐎/𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄: Visit the world. Become an influencer. Kiss someone. Interview a celebrity. Move out of my town. Get a therapist. Record a music video. See the Grand Canyon. Buy a polaroid camera. Be Tumblr famous. Finish all my requests and series. A speech in public. Punch a man in the face.
CEO Rafe and his secret secretary wife — the rest of the staff have no idea they’re married!
secretary.ᐟreader && husband.ᐟrafe
「 COTTON CANDY POSITIONS 」
NOTES: wait--i can actually see this. This is one of the very few times you will see lighter, fluffy content on my blog, but I couldn't not write this headcanon. ENJOY <3
I'm thinking of...
CEO.ᐟ husband .ᐟRafe that was SO IN LOVE that he put a huge diamond ring on your finger as soon as you two started dating
CEO.ᐟ husband.ᐟ Rafe touching your thighs whenever you go past him, loving your yelps and choked gasps.
CEO.ᐟ husband.ᐟ Rafe who loves fucking you, his sweet wife, hard and fast over his desk while everybody else is on break.
CEO.ᐟhusband.ᐟ Rafe who spoils you rotten and only lets you work because he adores having you around.
CEO.ᐟ husband .ᐟRafe who fires almost all male employee's for looking at you in a way he doesn't like.
CEO.ᐟ husband.ᐟRafe that threatened the life of even his best friend, Topper, when he came by and asked you out, of course, not knowing you're Rafe's already.
CEO.ᐟ husband .ᐟ Rafe that secretly wishes you would get pregnant faster, so you would have to stay at home with his children and cut your every contact with the outside world.
CEO.ᐟ husband.ᐟ Rafe manipulating you after a rough argument, saying your entire life has him at the base and you simply...cannot leave him.
CEO.ᐟhusband.ᐟRafe who goes to the exact same vacantion spots as you, at the exact time as you and yet--none of your friends or co-workers haven't figured you two out.
THAT'S IT, Y'ALL, GOING BACK TO MY DARK ROOTS AGAIN, BYE--
i'm reeeeeally considering to write for Tom Hardy's characters...
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 ♡
⁎✵࿔๛ 𝐌𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐉𝐈𝐒)
🪼
✨🍄
... list still opened ♡
𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒 | 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐌𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐁𝐎𝐗
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.
⋆⁎✽๛ 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.
𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 2.0
"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)
It's just crazy that some days, you watch countless of movies with your characters and you don't have even the tiniest drop of inspiration and you write NOTHING and some days you write a 25k masterpiece after seeing one GIF.
Us, writers...ugh.
OKAY SO when the last on ended it could pick up from there and he ties her up in a room. Then they get to where their going to and she tries to get away from him but he finds her. Then brings her back to the house and torture her ( idk if u write for that ) or he just ties her up in the basement and just leaves her there for a while idk <3
ꪖꪶꪶ I 𝘴ꫀꫀ Ꭵ𝘴 ᦔꪖ𝘳𝘬ꪀꫀ𝘴𝘴
๛༊ 𝒲ARNINGS: This work contains dark themes such as dv + mentions of; NONCON (rape); heavy violence (on reader and others); mentions of murder; abusive relationship; and possibly more. MNDI, 18+ ; IF YOU DO NOT LIKE MY CONTENT, DO NOT INTERACT.
࿐༊ 𝒲ord 𝒞ount: 1.2k. BARELY PRROFREAD.
๛༊ CATEGORY: A RAFE CAMERON DRABBLE | RAFE'S 𝓜ASTERLIST |
๛༊ MY NOTES: this is the sequel of '𝒜ll ℐ see is ℛed ℒights'. thank you all for reading and giving me so much love, I feel blessed! 🥹 hope you all enjoy this part as well. always, to my sister @highonmarvel , maybe you'd like this as a late night read. Love you forever and always, thank you for inspiring me so much! A lil something for @stargirllanaa, ofc if you wanna read. @ghostbusters6 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING. It did not turn our as violent as I would've wanted---more poetic tbh--- but you can request more and i'll write torture as well. ily and hope you enjoy this.
You barely stood awake the rest of the journey. You were lying limp on a thick blanket in a corner, and you only remembered glimpses of Rafe checking up on you, muffled voices and the never ending sound of the waves crashing on the sides of the ship.
The sleep soothed your pain, numbing your senses, so you welcomed it thankfully. You did not want to see or talk to anyone—that person being your boyfriend that beat your brother to death—, you didn’t want to believe you’re alive, going to a future you didn’t want to have. It wasn’t up to you though, apparently Rafe was making the choices and you just had to ask how high when he told you to jump.
The thought of finding a sharp piece of glass and using it to finish off the suffering had crossed your mind, but your body was way too weak to comply with your brain’s commands.
Your lashes batted as you tried to open your eyes. You placed your trembling hands into the mattress and managed to sit on your bottom, letting your back fall on the wall.
Finally, you felt a little strength running through your bones and muscles and your foggy state of mind cleared a bit and, after the days that had passed, you were able to fully open your eyes.
The view was the same: an iron wall, a few carton boxes and the blanket around your body.
But wait—the ship was not moving anymore.
The door creaked open and your puffy eyes fell on your boyfriend’s emotionless ones.
You immediately got up, bringing your knees to your chest and planting your palms into the mattress firmer as Rafe was coming closer.
His dark tee shirt clung tightly to his broad chest, bicep muscles flexing under the material as he brought his hand up to wipe at his nose with his fingers – the obnoxious habit that warned you about the stormy emotions running through his head. Fear ran through your veins as you saw in your mind, again, your brother’s blood staining Rafe’s hand
“C’mon, baby…” he spoke, now as he had fully reached your bed.
Your feet tangled in the sheets as you moved further from him, a whine bubbling up in your throat. The pet name felt foreign and bitter.
Rafe’s brows furrowed, and he spoke your name, it sounded as both a warning and a threat, but it also was the chant of a lost little boy begging you to just…comply with his demands. But did it terrify you to your core.
When you still hadn’t complied, Rafe nodded to himself — another habit he owned — and his hand extended, willing to grip your wrists.
You whimpered as his iron, long fingers wrapped on your skin, coldness running up your spine. He managed to get you on your feet and you yelped when he smashed your back across his chest. Hard. At first, you were grateful for the sustain offered by his body because your legs felt disattached from your hips, considering the stagnation of the blood flow and muscles in your thighs, calves and ankles, but when his hardness poked your lower back, nausea filled you again.
A part of you tried to excuse him, it was telling you he ‘cannot help it’, that he is a man, and men have certain needs at any moment –you inherited this because of his constant manipulation, the contrast and bipolarity of his actions, of vulnerability and power. But having him get aroused from the way your pained whimpers sounded was cruel nevertheless.
The following events went rapidly, and once you were off the massive ship, your numb form was secured into a backseat of a jeep.
“Can I trust you?” Rafe asked, raising his brows, and the threat behind it pinched at your brain. You knew what he meant. ‘Don’t fuckin’ run away.’ But as soon as your boyfriend left, his words were long forgotten. Fight or flight conquered all your senses and you opened the door and sprinted through the bushes adorning the dusty roads.
You knew nothing about the zone, but you would have rather stayed with a crotal than the man that murdered your brother with cold blood.
Your heart started beating faster—if that was even possible—when you heard Rafe’s panicked and terribly angered voice behind you.
“Hey..HEY!” he shouted behind your head and his bicep curled around your chest, stopping you from your sprint.
You screamed, the hoarse and frightened noise filling the emptiness of the dunes.
Rafe’s lips impacted your ear and his hand came to grip your face. The silence was not necessary—nobody cared for your cries, but Rafe needed your silence. It was his everyday bread, he was healing himself by painting your life in ashy shades of black and blue.
The new mansion was not more infant nor healing. The wealth had left its mark all over. Wealth terrified you. In your heart and soul, wealth was a synonym of dore and dreadfulness. Wealth meant the lack of freedom for others. Maybe you were globally right or maybe you were just the unfortunate stupid little girl.
Rafe’s eyes, painted by sorrow and madness, looked at the ghostly scene he created with his own bare hands. He had never seen you this terrified and beaten before, and, as much as he desired to feel a certain fulfillment—the one he had always felt before—he did not. Actually, your tears have turned into tears for him. He felt pathetic.
But that patheticism disappeared as soon as you jumped away from his touch. The voices were chanting in his head ‘disobedience; disobedience’ and then ‘abandonment’. Everybody, absolutely everybody in his life had given up on him at some point and then, he was powerless. But with you it was different. He had the strength to hold you back, even if that meant that you would tear your limbs off trying to uncuff yourself from his claustrophobic, torturous grip. You were the only star in his sky and he was draining all the light from every cell of your body. He knew that someday you will fade away. But until then, he had to bathe in your light as much as it was possible.
"I need you, and you-you don't seem to understand that--" Rafe shouted in the second part, shoving his index and middle fingers in his temples, trying to show you that it's not hard to get this into your head.
However, your black and blue body, splayed across the expensively polished floor was sending a totally different visual message. Wracked sobs and whimpers were met by the back of your palm, puffy eyes staring up at the man you couldn't recognize.
Rafe screwed his eyes shut as he was breathing heavily, trying to calm himself down. "T-take me home, please--" you suddenly whined, and Rafe was immediately crouched next to your body. “Even if you could kill me and then throw my corpse away in a fuckin’ swamp, I will not live without you. If I’m on fuckin’ fire…", he stopped but you didn't need him to continue. "Do you understand that?”. His yell made your throat constrict and you nodded, forcing more pain into the bruises of coagulated blood on the flesh and muscles of your neck.
In two months, he would put a priceless diamond necklace over them—if you would be lucky enough to be unchained from his dorm—, and you would be expected to place a soft kiss on the lips that brutally murdered your true self, and drink from the poison of his being.
please stop putting your rape fics in girlblogging tags 😭 like you do you but fanfiction is not girlblogging
Considering half my followers and readers are girlblogs, I use the tag knowing they'll find my fics easier. I did my job and put the warnings, I did my job and put the 'read more' button. I'll try not to post anymore under the girblogs' tags, but this was really unnecesary. If you see the warnings and don't like them, JUST. SCROLL. If you're a minor (many minors are girlblogs) SCROLL and BLOCK ME. Please and thank you.
plsss do a dark professor rafe x young reader who is naive and rafe corrupts her and traps her. Noncon ❤️❤️
๛ PAWN
༻꧂ ᥫONTENT WARNINGS: My content is dark and this piece includes elements such as NON-CON; threats; choking; power imbalance; age gaps; coercion; manipulation, curse words and possible others. MDNI, MY WORKS ARE 18+.
༻꧂ MY NOTES: I love dark Rafe. REQUEST MORE Y'ALL (via INBOX)
༻꧂ CATEGORY: RAFE CAMERON ONE-SHOT (𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌. | 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌.)
꧁༺ SUPPORT ME BY REQUESTING MORE, BY REBLOGGING, COMMENTING AND LIKING. THANK YOU!
"So, you wanna pass, right?", your professor, Rafe, asks, leaning back on the plain wall behind his desk with muscular arms crossed in front of his broad chest, shielding it from your shy eyes. "More than anything!", you whimper, nodding your head vigorously. ”I mean, that’s what my parents want from me…”, you whisperly confess, chewing on the inside of your bottom lip.
“And what a saint you are, listening to your mommy an’ daddy, while all your other classmates don’t give a flying fuck about theirs.” The tone laced with bitter amusement makes you flinch. Rafe has never spoken that way before, you have always considered him a moral person.
“P-please, sir…just help me pass, I’ll do anything. I’ll study for hours, for days, I don’t care, jus’ tell me what to do…”, you plead. Rafe chuckles, not planning to sentence you to continuous studying, God forbid he would do that to his sweet girl. “Come here.”, he breathes out, admiring his reflection into your glossy, widened eyes.
You approach his desk with shaky legs and his hand is swift to grab at your throat. The sudden movement makes you sob, fear overcoming all your senses. ‘What is happening?’ is the scream that bubbles up in your mind.
“You want to pass? Then give me a reason to make it happen, baby. Otherwise… you fail. Simple.”, he growls, ocean blue eyes now a shade of darkened coal. He squeezes your neck tighter, wordlessly demanding a response.
You push weakly at his chest, the lack of air starting to become unbearable, a gesture he clearly doesn’t like. "Grades can be fixed. But so can attitudes. Think carefully, sweetheart. I decide what happens next… and trust me, you won’t like failing my class.", he growls again, bending you over his desk.
And, as you feel his austere, calloused hands bruising your thighs, his wife’s eyes, drilling into yours from the pictures on the workbench, were the ones pinning you in place, silencing your nonexistent screams to just whimpers, tears and, just as Rafe grunts from above you, prayers. Prayers to pass with just this “small” gesture. But you’re not so sure. You know professor Rafe, and he is anything but easily convinced.
When I started this blog, I was CONVINCED I was gonna get sooo hated because of the type of content I write/read. Well, what a pleasant surprise...I haven't gotten one. hateful. inbox regarding my content. But others authors here are not as lucky as I am. I am going to repeat it again: IF YOU DO NOT LIKE A CERTAIN FIC, SCROLL, BLOCK THE BLOG, BLOCK THE TAGS, keep your mental health safe. But do not send hate, like...that is so childish, c'mon. Fiction is a way of coping with certain things. Do not attack my taste just because it differs from yours. Read the warnings and if they make you shiver, SCROLL, damn.
I don't glorify my warnings, and I certainly do NOT encourage the behaviour, I just adore reading and writing them. Stop attacking my fellow dark writers and do not consume the content if it doesn't suit you. I know, it's that easy...wow.
thank you SO much for reading and reblogging baby, I LOVE feeding dark fics to my people ♡
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.
JAMES BUCKY BARNES' MASTERLIST
DISCLAIMER: (THIS CONENT IS DARK) This masterlist and its containing belong to The WINTER SOLDIER, so beware. You may stay as long as you would like, but i am sure that once you enter his district, you will never want to leave ever again. Make yourself comfortable and create and enjoy some magic with me. Any special requests, questions or just simple discussions will be submitted in my INBOX. You will be following these RULES and maybe you would like to check out my MAIN MASTERLIST as well. Below you will find my works, such as:
༊ ONESHOTS
➦ How it glistened as it fell
༊ DRABBLES
➦ Frightening New World (ft. Sam Wilson)
༊ SERIES
©thehydraethereal 2025 copyrights. My work is not to be translated, rewritten or reposted. My content is dark, you are responsible for your own media consumption.
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.
kinks for dark!rafe ?
ohhh, I like this one. Considering Rafe is one of the most complex characters to write, and to write well (and my absolute favorite too), I believe they would be:
↝ innocence kink
↝ fear kink (heavily on this one, of course)
↝ dacryphilia or tears kink (again, this one is important)
↝ choke kink (choking basically lmao)
↝ restraints kink
I feel that he would also be into chasing, breath play, manhandling and, of fucking course, slapping/backhanding or straight up physical abuse.
send me whatever questions via inbox, and I'll be more than happy to give writing tips as well.
➦ DISCLAIMER: I do not support these actions, this is just for fictional purposes.
「THE APPENDAGE」 (ONGOING DARK SERIES) — MASTERLIST
"IT'S NOT AN ACT OF LOVE IF YOU MAKE HER,
YOU MAKE ME DO TOO MUCH LABOUR!"
— series warnings: This piece contains NONCON (rape); heavy violence; domestic violence; misogyny; implied murder; physical, mental and sexual abuse; forced marriage; gun violence; curse words; mental issues; depression; and other dark and triggering elements. MDNI, this is dark. You are responisble for your own media consumption.
— characters: reader (my original character); Rafe Cameron; Brock Rumlow; Tony Stark; Ward Cameron; James Buchanan Barnes; Natasha Romanoff; Pepper Potts; Wanda Maximoff; Carol Danvers and other possible appearences. The characters belong to Marvel and Outer Banks, not to me. (Marvel & Outer Banks AUs crossovers).
— note: This piece of writing is inspired by Paris Paloma's song 'Labour' and the characters, not the actual plot of the movies/series. This is barely proofread. I do not romanticize or encourage any of the following actions written here, this fic is neant to spread awareness and for other artistic and fictional purposes. Do not repost or translate it. It belongs to ©thehydraethereal 2025. Reblogs, asks and comments are always welcomed. Please, enjoy your reading, and support me by liking and reblogging.
⇀ PROLOGUE
⇀ FIRST CHAPTER
(...more to come, this series does not have a certain number of chapters, I will choose it based on how the fic is welcomed and perceived as. You may request ideas/ what you would like to see in the following parts) .
» other important links:
↝masterpost
↝ my warnings (for requests)
》 TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES IS OPENED. LET ME KNOW IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED IN THE FOLLOWING PARTS via inbox or comments.
「THE APPENDAGE」 (ONGOING DARK SERIES) — MASTERLIST
"IT'S NOT AN ACT OF LOVE IF YOU MAKE HER,
YOU MAKE ME DO TOO MUCH LABOUR!"
— series warnings: This piece contains NONCON (rape); heavy violence; domestic violence; misogyny; implied murder; physical, mental and sexual abuse; forced marriage; gun violence; curse words; mental issues; depression; and other dark and triggering elements. MDNI, this is dark. You are responisble for your own media consumption.
— characters: reader (my original character); Rafe Cameron; Brock Rumlow; Tony Stark; Ward Cameron; James Buchanan Barnes; Natasha Romanoff; Pepper Potts; Wanda Maximoff; Carol Danvers and other possible appearences. The characters belong to Marvel and Outer Banks, not to me. (Marvel & Outer Banks AUs crossovers).
— note: This piece of writing is inspired by Paris Paloma's song 'Labour' and the characters, not the actual plot of the movies/series. This is barely proofread. I do not romanticize or encourage any of the following actions written here, this fic is meant to spread awareness and for other artistic and fictional purposes. Do not repost or translate it. It belongs to ©thehydraethereal 2025. Reblogs, asks and comments are always welcomed. Please, enjoy your reading, and support me by liking and reblogging.
⇀ PROLOGUE
⇀ FIRST CHAPTER
(...more to come, this series does not have a certain number of chapters, I will choose it based on how the fic is welcomed and perceived as. You may request ideas/ what you would like to see in the following parts) .
» other important links:
↝masterpost
↝ my warnings (for requests)
》 TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES IS OPENED. LET ME KNOW IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED IN THE FOLLOWING PARTS via inbox or comments.
「 THE APPENDACE 」 — PROLOGUE
FIRST CHAPTER ➙
⇀prologue warnings: misogyny; family issues; other possible dark and triggering themes and elements. MDNI! You are responsible for your own media consumption. Barely proofread.
⇀prologue pairings: reader x tony stark (dark and platonic); reader x rafe cameron (platonic); reader x pepper potts (platonic); ward cameron x tony stark (platonic)
⇀note: This fic has been on my mind since foreverrr. And I finally started it. I am the BIGGEST procastinator everr, so bare with me lol. enjoyyy my loveliesss!
⇀W.C: 857 words
» SERIES MASTERLIST | » MAIN MASTERLIST
You had always found your childhood insignificant, more like painful to think about, so you believed it was not important. However, what was important was the way you were raised.
Living in the ‘most developed times’, equality and respect was supposed to be found at every corner, especially in the circumstances you were born in. Daughter of the most important man of the New York state, CEO of the biggest industry in the U.S, genius and billionaire, you were supposed to have the sweetest life you could get. But ‘Tony Stark’s daughter’ was only a shiny title, that was meant to only blind you, then trap you in the circle of this life, gaslighted into believing your father was ‘a good man’, and he was never wrong.
Eventually, that became a strong belief of yours.
He never even tried to bring you up though, his ignorance felt stingy and bitter at first, so you tried to fight and fight and fight for your right to be loved by him. That right never came, so you hid in your shell, keeping the thoughts and emotions only to yourself, never realising they were devouring you from the inside.
In the world you lived in, the men were making the great decisions, and women had no say in what was happening with them. A memory that did nothing but whip your heart was when you had witnessed the fight between your father and one of his mistresses.
She had told him she was pregnant, and he calmly told her to ‘get rid of it’. When she protested, saying she really wants to be the mother of her unborn daughter, your father started getting aggressive, stating that he ‘doesn’t need another burden’ as a child. You remembered Pepper’s loving arms wrapping around your small, shaky form and taking you out with her, away from the chaos that was going on inside your father’s office.
A daughter equaled a burden in your father’s eyes, and that cutting remark burnt in your brain ever since. Little did you know he wasn’t considering daughters only burdens, but at least there was a way that a daughter could earn his… good interest—if it could be called that—and that way was the moment when he realised she could be useful for his greater good.
Years passed and when you dared to do or say something that Tony displaced, you were quickly reminded that you were only his daughter—synonyms with ‘woman’, a word the man saw as just a tool—, hoping he would get the realization into your head.
But you still hoped for something, anything from him.
Another hurtful memory liked to hit you from time to time: you were five or six, and you decided to jump from his office desk, to show him you could do something great, too. But unfortunately, you landed on your stomach, spraining your wrist. Even in all the pain, you found a little happiness, thinking your father would spend more time by your side and comfort you. But the irony of fate was that you were wrong. Again. Tony only threw a comment that ‘it was the stupidest thing to do’, and then shouted at Pepper for leaving you unsupervised. The sobs and cries you had in your small bed scarred you, but you still forgave your father even for that.
Your father’s business associate, the CEO of the Cameron Industries, Ward, had a son, Rafe, three years older than you,—it was the only reason your father envied him for. Rafe was your only friend growing up. You still remembered how you hid half your face behind a wall, taking up his form. His blond bangs fell in his face, and he was constantly rubbing his ocean blue eyes with his small fingers, trying to get the hair out of his sight. His father’s left hand held his much smaller one, as he greeted your father with the other. Rafe’s eyes scanned the surroundings—he was patient and still for his young age, and extremely used to luxury—but his eyes stopped when he saw you, and, unexpectedly, he waved.
It was a really tiny gesture, but it meant the world to you, it was one of the few times a male showed you a form of affection. You shyly waved back, then ran away from the hallway.
But months later, when Ward visited your father again, you and Rafe started growing closer. You were two little children, affected by your parents in different ways—both without mothers to hold you growing up—, but you got along oddly well. This small friendship was your secret, and you loved it, Rafe had sweetened your life. Everything went beautifully, until he turned eighteen and left for college in Europe, and you were left alone again.
You hoped that…maybe one day, you will find a man like him and get married, portraying your unknown soulmate as your saviour, the man that will get you out of the chaos that occurred in your life. But, once again, your father took care to crush your unique dream under his foot. And all you could do was watch it.
» tags: my beloved sister @highonmarvel , tell me what you think, seriously!!!
꒰ 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒's works for 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍 . ꒰ main m. / characters list ꒰ ꒱ PROMPTS ⒈ & ⒉ for requests / ... MY 'READERS' PALETTE / ABOUT 𝐌𝐄 ... ꒱ "hit me and tell me you're mine..." | DARK CONTENT |
꒰ drabbles ꒱
✦ ALL I SEE IS RED LIGHTS / ALL I SEE IS DARKNESS { sequel. / II }
✦ PAWN { one shot }
✦ RIBBONS { one shot }
✦ COTTON CANDY POSITIONS { headcanon }
✦ THE CUT THAT ALWAYS BLEEDS
꒰ series ꒱
෴ THE APPENDAGE { MARVEL & OUTER BANKS crossover }
...more to come.
ALL I SEE IS 'RED LIGHTS'
》[summary] You are shown the effects of what happens if you cross your boyfriend's line.
》[word count]: 1k (I'm shoked lol it's so short but long for me)
》[warnings]: Not proofread. This work contains dark themes and elements such as abusive relationships; heavy violence and implied homicide; obsessive behavior, mental issues; abuse; mentions of abduction and drugging; and more. This is dark, so if these warnings trigger you, do not interact. MNDI, for your own safety. You are responsible for your own media consumption.
》[note] : Thank you for reading and reblogging. Visit my masterlist and check out my warnings. Asks and new requests are always appreciated. ughhh, this is...concerning. also, for my soulmate in the district of dark art @highonmarvel. დ and a lil' something to @stargirllanaa, if you want to read :((
“Pl-please…Rafe? Rafe, please, d-don’t l-leave me h-here-” you sobbed, struggling against your boyfriend’s rough hands that were trying to secure your wrists together. “Shut up! I need to think-” he hissed, tossing you on the iron floor of the ship. You knew the pogues had got on the boat and they were your only rescue before Rafe would get to take you to a foreign country where you won’t be able to leave him and no one will ever find you, but the problem was that Rafe knew that too. And he didn’t want his plan spoiled by his sister and her stupid “friends”.
You cried harder when Rafe crouched down next to your shaky form and secured the scratchy rope with zip ties. His hair was falling into his eyes that were constantly darting from your wrists to your face. “Somebody help me-” you cried, your voice barely coming out audible from your aching throat, before Rafe slapped you hard across the face, your head meeting the wall of the tight room he was trying to put you in. “Can you just shut your fucking mouth or should I do it for you? Huh?,” Rafe growled, his heavy breath hitting your burning skin. You gave him a small nod before he got up, looking for something to use as a weapon against nothing else than his own sister and the other kids. “I-I’ll di-die down h-here, Rafe, I can’t…I can’t breathe-” you whispered, the hot and small place choking the hope out of you. Your ribs were met by the kick of his foot, and you bent your body even more to try to keep the pain out. “You should’ve thought about that before you decided to play the smart bitch, tryin’ to act like you could fuckin’ leave me.” Flashbacks of his hands dragging you by your hair to the car and drugging you with chloroform, all these just to get you on this boat made you nauseous all over again.
When he finally found what he was looking for, he shot a last glance at your trembling form then he closed the door after him, leaving you in utter and complete darkness and pain.
The only thing that you could see was the constant flickering of a red light. You did not know what to do, you felt broken. But you had to try something, unless you wanted all your friends, the only people that really cared for you, dead at the hands of the man you alone decided to let in your life. You attempted to control your breathing and just focus. Had Rafe locked the door? No, he didn't have a key, the ship was massive and there was no chance he had fully explored it. As you struggled to break free from the restraints, they were so tight that they caused your skin to tear.
Ignoring the pain, you searched with your fingertips for anything sharp that could help you escape. Your fingers came across a pointed object, causing an excited squeal to come past your lips. Sliding your wrists against the sharp edge, you eventually heard a slight noise and felt your hands become free. Tears of relief welled up, ready to spill just as warm blood ran down your hands.
As you stood up, your vision blurred from the sudden movement, almost causing you to fall again. Bracing yourself with your arms on the wall was efficient, and you managed to push the door open. You sobbed shakily, grateful for this little victory.
The happiness didn’t last because now you had to figure out a way to…find your friends, get off this fucking ship and make it out alive back to Kildare.
Small droplets of sweat rolled down your forehead and you wiped your face with both of your hands, trying to smooth down your hair and keep it out of your eyes. You took a few small steps, looking around the unknown illuminated surroundings for any signs of Rafe or other men.
A loud bang made you flinch so hard and you thought that, for a moment, your soul had leapt out of your body. Through the tears blurring your vision you saw your older brother, John B, on the dirty floor, coughing heavily and before you knew it, your terrified sight caught your boyfriend straddling him.
Rafe looked almost like a demon, his pupils so dilated his eyes were coal black, hair stuck to his wet face that was hit by the crimson lights, low growls erupting from his veiny neck. The gun in his hand was constantly hitting your brother’s face, slowly turning him into an unrecognisable bloodied creature.
You felt like your insides had been set on fire, and your feet carried you next to the two men. The tendons in your knees gave up on you, throwing you over your brother’s limp body. You did not care about Rafe anymore, you didn’t care if he’d kill you, you wanted to die right now. “Wh-what are you doing to me…?”, you whispered hoarsely, the pain becoming unbearable all of a sudden. Your ears stung, and your tears mixed with John B’s blood, dripping patiently on the iron floor. Your forehead fell on his chest, and his flimsy, yet comforting arm wrapped weakly around your lower back. Your fingers caressed his cheek, gathering the maroon liquid and tiny pieces of broken skin.
Then, Rafe’s agonizing grip fell on the back of your neck, pulling your sagging, delicate body up with his. If it weren’t for his thick bicep that had wrapped around your waist or his broad chest that was sustaining you from behind, you would have collapsed back, right next to your brother. “You are not leaving me.” Rafe snarled awfully calm in your ear, as if he didn’t just possibly murdered somebody. “Get that in your fuckin’ skull already.”
Your tears washed down the blood on your cheeks as you were being dragged further and further to the only one left in your family which was agonizingly consuming his last breaths and, as always, there was not a single thing you could do against Rafe Cameron. It always ended how he wanted.
CHARACTERS LIST
MY BELOVED GHOST AND ME...
...SITTING IN A TREE.
MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE
꧁༺ 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍
꧁༺ 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒
꧁༺ 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒
꧁༺ 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐋𝐎𝐖
꧁༺࿔ 𝐊𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑
꧁༺ 𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓 (𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄)
꧁༺ 𝐖𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍 (𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐋)
꧁༺ 𝐋𝐎𝐊𝐈 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐅𝐄𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍
꧁༺ 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐅𝐅
OUTER BANKS
༻꧂ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍
༻꧂ 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊
༻꧂ 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 𝐁. 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄
༻꧂ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐅
༻꧂ 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊
ACTORS' CHARACTERS
𖦹༻꧂𝐏𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐎 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 (𝐀𝐋𝐋)
𖦹︎ ༻꧂ 𝐀𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 (𝐀𝐋𝐋)
𖦹︎ ༻꧂𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐒𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 (𝐀𝐋𝐋)
𖦹︎ ༻꧂𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 (𝐀𝐋𝐋)
༻꧂ 𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 (𝐀𝐋𝐋)
༻꧂𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐔𝐒 (𝐏𝐀𝐔𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐈)
༻꧂ 𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐒 (𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐃 𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐘) & 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐒 (𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐃𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐘)
༻꧂ 𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐇 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 (𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐑 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐀; 𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊)
༻꧂ 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋
✦ other important links: masterlist / warnings and information
©thehydraethereal 2025.
MY WARNINGS
✦ I will put the warnings ahead of each piece of fanfiction. Keep in mind that my work contains triggering elements such as nonconsensual sex; abusive relationships; sexual/mental/physical abuse; violence; harassment; sex trafficking; abduction; age gap; power dynamics and possible other dark themes. Proceed with caution. This blog is not for minors. You are responsible for your own media consumption.
WHAT I WRITE...
✶ I will only write female reader / I will only write dark content ✶ I will only write the elements written above in my warnings, nothing else, and for sure, nothing that includes underage relationships or gory elements, A/B/O dynamics or something that includes supranatural creatures such as vampires, werewolfs etc.
BLOG RULES
✶ If you do not like my content, you are free to just scroll away. Do not send hate.
✶ Do not message me for requests, send them via inbox.
✶ I love getting to know other writers, so if you want to know each other or to co-write sonething, you can message me.
✶ Do not translate or repost my work without my consent. Reblogs, likes, comments and asks are always appreciated and needed.
✶ I love yapping and chatting, so you can send asks about certain fics, movies, series, history or celebrities.
✶ other important links: MASTERLIST / CHARACTER LIST /
©thehydraethereal 2025. My work might contain triggering elements. You are responsible for your media consumption. Do not translate or repost my work without my consent.
