Are You Currently Taking Requests? :)

I say MINORS DO NOT INTERACT not because minors make me uncomfortable and not because I wouldn't want to interact with you as a minor. It's because I know my content is NOT suitable for you (it's not suitable even for some kinds of people over eighteen years of age). I know FROM EXPERIENCE, I started reading dark stuff even before I was 18 and it was HARMFUL for me, trust me, I KNOW. I don't want you to go through the same shit I went through because of that.

I am sure many of you (minors) read worse things, those popular smut novels and so, but here it is not the place for you. Please RESPECT YOURSELF AND PROTECT YOURSELF!

i was in my uber yesterday and i was talking about why my grade in the exam wasn't the highest with my friend and the man in the uber started tellin me (after she left) how it's fine and im still so smart and shit and he was clearly interested in me and i got a little freaked out bc he was forty somethin and when i got home i told my mom and she started blamin ME like wdym its my fault a weird older guy did that what was i supposed to do I AM SO FRUSTRATED AND SAD

♡♡♡

        ꒰ 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 }

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.

HOW IT GLISTENED AS IT FELL

⇀ pairing: dark! Bucky Barnes x reader

⇀ warning(s): My content is dark and contains triggering elements such as mentions of torture and/or torture; abusive relationship; dacryphilia; sexual themes; weapons and possible others. Read at your own discretion. MDNI, this work is 18+, as always.

⇀ author's note: This is for the ones doubting my dark content lmao. enjoy (if you can), these are the fruits of my mind (i am fucked up tbh). Finally, I got to write Bucky, especially for you, my love, @highonmarvel. Forever in love with you, my soul sister. xxx

©thehydraethereal 2025. My work and writing is not to be copied, translated, reposted or stolen. My content is dark. Your media consumption is your problem, not mines. Reblogs, asks, requests and comments are always required and appreciated

You really think you can leave Bucky. "That's almost cute", he thinks to himself, as he finishes to put the other leather glove on his vibranium arm.

Small droplets of frozen rain and lost, shimmery snowflakes hit the windows as Bucky makes his way up the staircase towards his bedroom. The bedroom you two shared.

His jaw is clenched, the low lights portraying him almost ghostly, demonlike, in the refections of the windows. That's how he had seen himself his whole life, since the forties, but having you---the nucleus of his life---see him such a monster that you try to leave him is something Bucky could never allow.

With a little help from Steve, the man that always had his back, Bucky was able to prevent the...loss of you.

And as his fingertips touch the doorknob, and his eyes fall on your restrained, frozen figure once the door is unlocked, the icy wind blowing softly the hair away from your petrified, purplish face, Bucky oddly feels no remorse. He actually feels his actions are entitled and extremely 'disappointed' at your previous stupid actions.

Blood runs to his already hardening cock when he hears your whimpers muffled by the blood-stained rag and your tears. Oh, those tears. The sweet acid rain falling from your bewitching eyes because of him is something that Bucky not only likes, but in fact adores.

"Hey, doll...", he sighs, rubbing his thick thumb over the much thicker bulge in his jeans, while his ocean eyes bore into your terrified ones.

When you try to crawl away, your feet get tangled in the white sheets and a mocking smirk screws on Bucky's features.

"Oh, doll...I thought we already went through this.", he says, his calm stressing you even more. His eyes rest on the drawer you know he keeps his knive and gun in.

Your pleading face is shoved down into a pillow. "You know, if I say I don't enjoy this---", Bucky starts as he takes his time with ripping down your underwear and moving his gloved, iron arm to grip your thigh, "---I would be telling a big fucking lie." You flinch when you feel a metalic pinch on your skin, followed by warmth pooling between your thighs, as Bucky's knife dances on your skin.

"And you know how much I hate lies."

Rafe Cameron’s mannerisms

tumblr is like a corner in a fancy victorian attic where girls run to hide from themselves and others, where they screw up their minds even more hoping they would heal one day, the place where girls feel like they're fucking crazy and the place where they are decaying---

...i'm girls

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.

this is me all day