Post Your Mediocre Art Girl. Anora Can Win 5 Oscars. Who Fucking Cares

you never miss, i swear. the darkness is everything , i genuinely can't WAIT any longer for the next parts 🗣️😫

under his grasp

Pairings: Dark! Suitor! Marcus Acacius x Queen! reader

warnings: noncon, cheating, victim blaming, oral (f receiving), threats of rape (not to reader), noncon insinuations (not to reader), breeding kink, unprotected p in v, violence, etc

series masterlist

Seeing he had gone for good, you had dressed back into your wedding dress as it was the only comfort and clothes you had and decided to sleep in the marital couch, too scared that crawling in his bed would give him any ideas.

Morning came and you were up earlier than expected, sleep being scarce and more frightening than being awake. As your gaze searched around the room, the thick body of Acacius laid pleasantly in his bed. You tried to sleep longer, but handmaidens bustled into the room ready to prepare you for the first day of you endless nightmare.

They were quiet, Acacius’ handmaidens. They greeted you shyly, perhaps unknowing how to greet a Queen, and presented you a lavish turquoise gown; you allowed them to dress you as some stirred Acacius awake, but he batted them off, grumpily.

“I can dress myself.” He groaned, and you could tell that after he left you the night before, he had drunk.

Certain handmaiden caught your eye; she was young, similar to you physically, and she stood close to you. Her movements were timid, perhaps even more scared than the others. Your eyes followed her as she left the room.

True to his words, Acacius dressed himself in more casual robes; a beige picta. The silent was deafening, casting shadows over the dawn as you sat still, unaware of what to expect.

“When are we returning to the Palace?” You managed your courage to mutter, and Acacius finally posed his tired eyes on you.

“When you learn to be a good wife to me.” He answered sharply. “A husband cannot spend his nights looking for solace in another’s woman’s embrace.”

His words felt thick around him, his eyes glaring daggers. You felt a knot in your throat.

“Was that what you did after the events of last night?” You dared to ask him. He hesitated for a while, you could see it in his swerving eyes.

“Do not blame me, you decided not to comply.” He responded, and his feet padded closer to you, his broad figure becoming bigger and bigger.

“That didn’t deter you the other night.” You bit, rage lacing your words. “and I guess that didn’t deter you yesterday, as I can’t believe your other woman was whorish enough to sleep with a newly wed man.”

He chuckled at your words, pleased in his fantasy that you were portraying jealousy. “You would be surprise by how many girls like you dream of pleasing a General as myself.”

If that was true, then it felt unfair. For him to take you, just to dispose of you later, felt unfair. It all felt like a twisted joke, because despite not wanting him, he had done all of this for a reason.

“But just so you know,” He added, a sly grin on his face. “the one I bedded last night wasn’t compliant either.”

It felt like salt on a wound, and your face twisted into a bitter expression. He enjoyed it so much, the fight, your hatred, it fueled the fire in his loins.

“You are disgusting.” You spat, rising to your feet. “I cannot fathom how you portray yourself as the Hero-”

A sharp slap cut your words short, sending your face to the side as you gasped. His grip fell again on your face, now slightly more tender as he forced you to look at me.

“Oh, I am no Hero,” He sneered. “I am far more than that, I am your God now, and like Gods, I do not preach morality.”

You felt weak once again, but hatred still run through your veins as you glared at him. Your cheek stung.

“All this fighting has made me wanton.” He confessed, and your eyes widened in fear of his words. “after all, we must give Rome a heir.”

“You will be crowned King shortly,” You ushered, perhaps pleading. “you can have bastards and make them heir.”

He tutted at your excuses. “But I want you, darling; our heirs will rule Rome.”

“Why does it matter anymore?” You questioned, seeing impatience running through his features.

“Enough.” He barked, letting go of your chin. “Get on the bed.”

What if I say no?

What if I scream?

What if I comply?

Your mind raced, and he grew angry but you stood your ground. His lips almost curled into a smirk as he grabbed your forearms, as bruising as he had done the first night, and begun moving you towards the bed.

Your instinct kicked in, and you fought because complying was too humiliating for you. Kicking and clawing came to no avail as your back hit the soft, tousled fabrics of the bed.

“Are you going to behave or do I need to tie you down again and fuck you like a breeding mare?” He barked, and your arms grew weak under the threat. His gaze fell over the pretty dress that you wore, and he fought the urge to rip it apart. It was new, and a gift to you from him.

He opted for lifting your skirt and producing his manhood from beneath his robes. You didn’t want to look at it, feeling its weight on your leg was enough to tell you.

Your arms had fallen limp against the bed as he forced your thighs apart, presenting your cunt to his eyes.

“I realized I had forgotten something,” He confessed to you, and your mind screamed. “did not taste you properly yet.”

His dark eyes were set on you as he lowered his face to your exposed core, a pink tongue darting from his lips and licked a line along your seam. A whimper escaped your pressed lips, thighs shaking, and his mouth latched to you.

Like a man starved, he sucked your most intimate part, sending shivers along your body. Your nails dug into the covers, begging someone or something to stop the pleasure he was eliciting so darkly. But your hips buckled, making him even wilder as he thrusted his manhood into the bed. Like a man on a mission, he constrained his desires in order to get you to submit beneath him, which perhaps brought him more pleasure than the act itself.

A hand that was spreading your thighs apart let you free, but the limb curled itself into you, presenting yourself as soft mewls and squeaky moans left your lips. His fingers tangled themselves in the slick mess of arousal and saliva, pushing through your swollen walls; you jerked as he curled them inside, working your clit with his tongue.

There was a slight pain from the pressure, but it fueled the heat you felt, nipples pebbling against the silk of your dress and electricity jolting through you. Your thighs shut around his head, thick curls slightly matted from his efforts, and he knew.

A hand on your hip, holding you still, and now his digits thrusted in and out, fucking you until your legs wrapped around his neck, and you felt pressure relieve as you shot slick arousal directly into his face.

You didn’t care to try to reason what he had forced your body as you fell, spread, on the sheets, eyes lidded and throat hoarse from the war cry that had erupted from you.

Through your blurred vision you saw him rise on top of you, wiping you from his lips and face as his devoured all the essence you had poured onto him.

“No-” you whined as you felt the engorged tip of his cock pushing against your abused folds, hands rising to push at his chest.

“Come on, dumb girl,” he muttered at your skin, a hand gently taking your wrists above your head as the other propped your leg over his shoulder, letting himself slide right in with a pleased grunt. “I have pleased you, now do your duty.”

He sheathed himself in with a hiss, head bobbing back as your overstimulated core clenched around him. The sting had dissipated, and shame rose to your cheeks as you felt a need for it. The feeling, of needing to be fucked, pitifully reminded you of those nights along Lucius, the ones were his body heat felt like forbidden fruit, were you craved he would touch you, and were you would feel shame burn on you the next day as wild images blurred your thoughts.

But Acacius wouldn’t let you feel that need ever again, that you knew. He was an animal, biting into your soft skin as he rutted into you, as if trying to get closer. In a way, his assault felt like his desire to imprint on you, to make you yours, thing that he wouldn’t let you forget as he groaned and moaned it into your ear.

“There you are,” he mumbled, almost whispered, tightening the grip around your wrists unconsciously. “being fucking good for me, letting me fuck my wife.”

And you could fight it, you howled like a bitch in heat beneath him, letting General Acacius breed you despite the tears in your eyes. Your leg muscles stung beneath him, splayed like whore, for what felt like hours.

“Gonna finish inside you, paint your walls,” He panted into your ear before nibbling on your lobe. “gonna fuck the heir of Rome into you, dumb girl.”

True to his words, his pace picked up even more as he decided to finish the job. His grip snaked to your lower back as he pressed himself into you with a guttural groan, and you felt his sticky wetness inside of you, coating you; something you couldn’t clean up.

Perhaps this was for the better; the sooner you’d give him a heir the sooner he wouldn’t have an excuse to do this. But you knew that fantasy was unrealistic. Acacias had no excuse for enjoying the act so much.

His weight fell over you, shortening your breaths as you finally peered your eyes open, gaze cut by the mountains of muscular flesh of shoulder and back. The simple robe he had placed slipped from his body, and you felt sweat dampening as his torso pinned you down. His hand unwrapped his grip, knitting his fingers with yours. You begged he didn’t fall asleep.

But he didn’t, and you were grateful for that. Knowing he was crashing you, he tossed his body beside you on the bed. The silent rang in your ears; anticipation heavy, until he spoke.

“Each time you displease me, or deny me,” He said, threat and decisiveness in his voice. “I’d like you to think of our first night, and I’d like you to remember the pretty faces of the handmaidens I have here, at my power-and to know that I was considering you a Queen at the time.”

He had made his words clear.

DO NOT BLAME THE WIND

࿐ 𝒲arnings: MY CONTENT IS DARK AND MY WARNINGS ARE NOT EXHAUSTIVE. PROCEED WITH CAUTION. MY WORK CONTAINS TRIGGERING ELEMENTS SUCH AS MENTIONS OF RAPE; RESTRAINS; AGE GAP; CAPTIVITY; STOCKHOLM SYNDROME; MENTIONS OF BLOOD; FEAR; TORTURE THEMES AND POSSIBLY OTHERS. MDNI, 18+.

࿐ CATEGORY: JOEL MILLER ONE-SHOT

࿐ PAIRINGS: dark!captor!joel miller x reader

࿐ MY NOTES: finallyyy managed to write some pedro pascal. Exam sessions are over for now, so I'll be yours, my babies. Enjoy reading my shit. REBLOGS, ASKS, LIKES AND COMMENTS ARE MUCH LOVED AND DESIRED. REQUESTS ARE OPENED FOR MORE DARK FIC IDEAS.

࿐ TAGS: @pedrosyouknowwhat enjoy, my beloved. @highonmarvel my sister and soulmate xxx @katwriteshardy JUST IN CASE U WANNA READ THIS TOO

The weathered bark of the pine was splinting the flesh of your back and the cold was leaving sharp bites up your arms. The wind was unforgivingly harsh, and it whipped at your face, making more tears run down your numb cheeks. The rope was secured tightly and you felt like an animal, tied and bound to take your punishment. Your throat felt hoarse from all the weeping and pleading after him. But, apparently, when Joel Miller wanted to teach someone something, there was no opposition or protests — all you could do was watch his broad figure ride towards the woods, while you were left prey to the storm outside. 

Your wrists were all bloodied, the result of your struggle. The dizziness and agony made your retina blur, disorting everything in your sight. You only prayed that Joel would come get you and you promised yourself you will never spit at his face ever again, no matter how hard he backhanded you or thrusted in your core. 

As if your prayers were finally heard, a rugged movement beside you made your body instinctively flinch. “J-Joel?”, you asked, heavy eyes looking up at the older man. His jaw was clenched as his gloved hand came up and rested itself on your jaw. “I’m so s-sorry—”, you choked out, hot tears now cascading freely. Your whole body was shaking from the pain of standing with your back glued to the tree, restrained, all in the iciness of the howling tempests. 

“You’re shivering…”, he growled, as if your plea fell on deaf ears. You nodded and looked up at him through your wet lashes. “I’m s-so cold…”, you whimpered, melting into the hardness of his body. 

His calloused hand came to your back, where your wrists were secured, and ran his fingertips over the dried blood. You yelped. “I want to know—”, he started, and your heart jumped. You were ready to say anything just so he would take you back inside. “—if you know why you’re in this position…”

You looked into the darkness of his orbs and swallowed, looking for permission to speak. You absolutely did not want him to believe you were talking back, even though he asked you something. 

The click of his tongue in the inside of his cheek was showing off that he was expecting your answer. 

“J-just as you s-say…Do not blame the wind for destroyal if you were the one that o-opened the window.”, you whispered, eyes falling to the frozen mud around your feet. “I-I was di-disrespectful and it w-was right of you to p-punish me.”

Joel smirked, pleased with your answer. “There’s my good girl…”, he praised, cutting off the rope. You wrapped your weakened arms around his neck…You were clinging for dear life at the man that made you suffer the most. How ironic. 

“Let’s get you back home, where you’ll show me if you’re actually sorry or not.”, he finished as your eyes darted to the pylon of your torture, wrapped in fog, and the crimson-stained rope lying forgotten in the dirt. Your face buried itself into his neck, and his warmth gave you an odd comfort.

 Terror does funny things to mankind. 

this is so incredibly well written, you are amazing and so talented! 🥺 thank you for tagging me 🖤

Dinner Party

Inspired by @thehydraethereal ‘s prompts

Warnings: abusive relationship, physical abuse, emotional abuse, unwanted kissing, choking, slapping, alcohol, drug use

You didn’t have to look over at your boyfriend to know that he was displeased, you could feel his frustration emanating off of him in waves.

Across from you, Topper was jabbering away about some Kook vs Pogue nonsense with Kelce; neither Rafe nor you were listening to them. You looked down at your plate of barely touched food and sighed.

To say that you and Rafe had gotten into a fight earlier would have been a gross understatement; just 3 hours ago Rafe was berating you at the top of his lungs when you showed him your first outfit choice for the dinner tonight.

“Are you trying to fucking embarrass me? In front of my friends, in front of my dad?” He seethed, inching closer to you as you backed away.

“No Rafe, I-"

“You already know that he doesn’t like you, Y/N. I don’t know what in your dumb slut brain would make you think that dressing like that would be okay, but it’s not.” He crowded your space, grabbing at the fabric of your dress, and you squirmed in his grasp.

The truth was, this had absolutely nothing to do with what you were wearing, and you both knew it. Too many stressful days at work recently meant that Rafe had been coming home itching to release his pent up frustration, which usually meant picking fights with you.

“You’re not coming to this dinner half naked, either change clothes or you can stay at home.” His lip curled as he glared down at you, both hands firmly gripping your arms to keep you from pushing at his chest.

Tears were already welling in your eyes from his tight grip and harsh words, and as you struggled to free yourself from his hold, he pushed you too hard, knocking you off balance.

You yelped as you hit the floor, your cheek slamming against the hardwood painfully. For a moment you were too dazed to move, and your head ached as you numbly sat up and gingerly touched your cheek, cringing when your warm skin throbbed in pain.

“Do you know what Ward said to me after our last dinner together, huh? Hey, look at me when I’m talking to you,” you whimpered when your boyfriend’s fingers locked on your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

“He told me he couldn’t figure out why I was spending so much time with a ‘piece of Pogue trash.’”

You swallowed hard, uncomfortable under his cruel glare; and the frustration and shame bubbling up in your gut made you feel sick. You couldn’t stop the frown that tugged at your lips or the tears that were now sliding down your cheeks.

“Ward thinks you’re a gold digging slut and that you’re in over your head,” he rolled his eyes as he spoke, but you knew that some part of him did care about what his father thought; and the idea that Rafe might think those things about you too cut you deeper than you expected.

“I know that you’re not,” he added. “but it’s about the way it looks, Y/N, you know that.”

Rafe eyed your cheek, bringing his hand up to touch the tender skin and you cringed, trying to pull away from him, but your boyfriend held you in place, softly stroking your puffy cheek, before placing a delicate kiss there.

Sometimes the way his moods would switch so fast made your head spin, and trying to keep up only led you to be more confused.

“I’m sorry, I… got a little rough. I’ll start a warm bath, and I’ll get your outfit ready for you, okay?” His voice was softer now, gentle even, “Want you to have plenty of time to make sure your makeup is perfect, baby.”

“Y/N, have you been making any more progress with your internship?”

Ward’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and back into the present. You forced a smile as you turned to meet his eyes.

“Oh, yes, I actually just got assigned a new project and my company told me they’re planning on assigning me more leadership roles,” you beamed, finally happy to have something to brag about to Rafe’s father.

Your confidence was quickly shot down however with his next question.

“And are they going to start paying you?”

You could hear the unsaid part loud and clear, ‘so you can finally stop living off of my son’s dime?’

“Um, well,” you stuttered. “Technically it’s still an unpaid position, but this is a really good job for my subject field, a-and the experience will look really good on my resume. Most of the people in my classes are also in unpaid internships.”

Ward gave you a tight grin, one you knew was insincere and you tried not to feel disappointed by his response, but when you glanced over at Rafe, you knew you had only annoyed him more. Your heart sunk, and your mind raced to think of something to say to fix the situation.

“Isn’t Rafe starting a new project soon though?”

Rafe coughed, choking on his drink before clearing his throat and turning to look at you, “nah, Y/N, I think you’re remembering a past project.”

“What are you talking about Y/N?” Ward asked, and you felt your mouth go dry as you looked between him and your boyfriend.

Rafe’s face was even as he took a sip of his jack and coke, but you couldn’t miss the anger in his eyes, and you swallowed before shifting your gaze to Ward.

“N-nothing. Rafe’s right, I was confused. That was what he was working on last summer.” You covered for him quickly, stomach twisting when you glanced back over at your boyfriend.

Now the memory returned to you in full, Rafe telling you over a shared blunt in his hazy room about his plans to score a deal so big he’d never have to work again. The only problem was you’d forgotten one detail.

“Ward can’t know,” he passed you the blunt after ashing it into the tray on the bedside table.

“What, why?” You took a hit, inhaling the smoke deep into your lungs before handing it back to Rafe.

He didn’t answer, taking a long drag of the blunt and then lazily blowing the smoke up at the ceiling.

“He’d freak out if he knew the details, you would too,” he chuckled. “So don’t ask about it, and don’t mention anything to him.”

You pursed your lips, disappointed in the lack of details, but you understood and you had no choice but to trust Rafe, so you didn’t press further.

Ward accepted your excuse, and the conversation moved on to other topics, but Rafe was still simmering with barely disguised anger, and you didn’t miss the fact that he was on his fifth drink of the night.

The dinner was beginning to wind down, waiters soon appearing to remove the empty plates from the table before bringing out desserts. You picked at the slice of pie in front of you, too nervous to eat much of it at all.

Sensing your discomfort and still aiming to pass the two of you off as a normal couple, Rafe leaned in to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and that was when you made your worst mistake of the night.

His finger brushed your sore cheek and instead of leaning into his touch, you flinched, sharply inhaling through your nose as you pulled away from him. Your heart was pounding, pulling you back to earlier that night and you froze in place before suddenly remembering where you were.

To you, the moment felt agonizingly long, though it couldn’t have lasted more than a second. Unfortunately, your reaction didn’t go unnoticed.

“What the hell?”

You turned towards Sarah, forcing a fake smile onto your face as you did. “What?”

Rafe’s presence behind you had you on high alert, desperate to salvage this dinner before it collapsed into disaster, and the way he tensed beside you made your pulse pick up pace.

“What was that?” Sarah asked you before shooting a harsh glare towards her brother.

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you chuckled nervously, playing dumb and hoping she would just drop it.

Her eyes narrowed as she looked between you and Rafe, and you silently prayed that your makeup was still completely covering your bruise from earlier.

“You practically jumped out of your chair when Rafe touched you,” she shot back, catching Ward’s attention now.

Topper and Kelce eyed Rafe knowingly, silent smirks growing as they watched from across the table.

You looked between Sarah’s eyes and Ward’s, mouth dry as they stared you down, “I- I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

“Is it a crime to surprise your girlfriend?” Rafe challenged with a chuckle, possessively wrapping one arm around your waist and staring Sarah down.

She was silent for a few moments, her gaze flicking between you and Rafe suspiciously.

“I’m fine,” you reassured her with a small smile that didn’t quite meet your eyes.

By the time Rafe was finally able to pull the two of you away from the table, it was late, and you said your goodbyes quickly, trying to ignore the way Sarah’s gaze followed you on the way out.

As soon as the two of you exited the restaurant, his grip on your wrist was firm, tugging you towards the back of the parking lot and ignoring your protests.

“Rafe- that hurts-”

“You think I care?” He sneered, roughly pushing you up against the door of his truck. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You cringed at his harsh words, eyes low to the ground as he glared down at you. The pit that had been growing in your stomach all dinner felt large enough to swallow you whole.

“Why the fuck would you tell Ward about the deal I’m working on?” His large hand came to your chin, tilting your head up to meet his angry eyes.

“I-” your voice cracked, warm tears misting up your eyes. “I just forgot, Rafe, I’m sorry.”

“You forgot?” He repeated slowly, like you were stupid, and you could feel your throat getting tighter with anxiety. “Nah, that’s the problem with you, Y/N. You didn’t forget, you never fucking listen!”

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to-”

You heard the ringing in your ears before you felt the sting, and it wasn’t until Rafe’s fingers were threading into your hair to pull you upright again that you realized he had hit you.

Rafe forced your head back against the car door, roughly tugging at your hair to keep you in place.

“You fucking embarrassed me in front of my dad and friends ‘cuz you just couldn’t keep your fucking mouth shut,” he hissed, face so close to yours you could smell the whiskey on his breath. “Sounds like someone forgot her place.”

You whimpered when he tugged your hair again, tears staining your cheeks as he glared down at you.

Rafe’s hand came to your sore cheek, stroking your tender skin before mockingly tapping the soft flesh, “see how quiet you can be after I slap you around?”

“Y/N?”

The sound of Sarah’s voice on the other side of Rafe’s truck made you freeze, and your boyfriend immediately released his hold on you, stepping back as you quickly reached up to wipe the tears from your eyes.

“Yeah?” You asked as you turned to see her, worried that your cheek might be inflamed again after the hit Rafe just dealt you.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course she is.”

“I wasn’t asking you, Rafe.” Sarah snapped, scowling at her brother before turning her attention back to you. “I thought I heard you two fighting.”

“We’re fine, I’m fine,” you lied, plastering on another fake smile. “Just having a discussion, that’s all.”

Sarah’s eyes narrowed as she looked at you and then Rafe.

“You’re sure?”

You paused for just a moment before nodding.

“I just wanted to check in on you and make sure you were okay before-”

“God Sarah, do I have to shove my tongue down her throat for you to take the hint? She’s fine,” Rafe rolled his eyes at his sister, waving her off with one hand before turning his attention back to you, “we’ll see you tomorrow.”

Sarah scoffed, clearly wanting to ask you more questions, but when Rafe ignored her only to push you back against his truck and start kissing you, she let out a groan of revulsion before turning to leave.

You barely heard her say goodbye, too distracted by the feel of your boyfriend’s lips moving against yours and his tongue sliding into your mouth. Your stomach churned as he kissed you, a horrible and confusing mixture of desire and disgust mingling in your gut.

Rafe knew how much you loathed PDA, and you had no doubt this just another way for him to exercise his control over you and punish you for embarrassing him at the dinner. After all, this wasn’t even the first time he’d pulled a stunt like this. It was starting to become a habit.

When his hand circled around your throat, you gasped, and he deepened the kiss, devouring your lips as he held you in place. Rafe’s grip tightened, cutting off your airway even harder now, and you struggled against the tight hold he had on your neck and wrist.

He finally pulled away after what felt like an eternity, and you doubled over, falling to your knees as you gasped for breath and clutched your sensitive throat.

Your boyfriend sneered down at you, enjoying the fear in your eyes when you looked up at his looming figure.

“This had better be the last time something like that happens, Y/N, do you understand me?”

You nodded, sniffling and blinking fresh tears from your eyes as you tried to catch your breath.

“I don’t need Sarah or Ward sticking their noses into our relationship.” Rafe seethed, leaning down to pull you to your feet. His hands gripped your shoulders hard, fingertips digging into your sensitive skin, eliciting another pathetic whimper.

You looked deeply into your boyfriend’s eyes, trying to find any glimpse of softness or remorse for his actions, but instead you were only met with hard, cold blue.

"Don’t ever flinch like that again in public, or I’ll give you a real reason to."

「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.

HEAR ME OUT ON JOHN WALKER, AFTER THUNDERBOLTS* I'M RETHINKING MY LIFE CHOICES

Are you currently taking requests? :)

yes, I am ♡. 𝓓ark only though. Send in what you have in mind.

Even if nobody would read anything I write, I would still do it, because it the way of emanating feelings and sharing them with the world. And I am being serious, two years ago, I was riding home from school on a shitty bus, I was depressed and miserable overall, and that day I came across your blog and I read 'Ribs'. It had played in my mind the whole week and month afterwards and I started aspiring to be like you and it distracted me from my reality. Then, last year, I started writing here and got the courage to message you and here we are: you shining and brightening my life and being my greatest support. What can I say? I am so so honored you liked it, my heart is blooming rn, literally.

HOW IT GLISTENED AS IT FELL

⇀ pairing: dark! Bucky Barnes x reader

⇀ warnings: 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

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.

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.

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."

oh he can be even meaner to be if he wanted to! thank you for reading ♡

dark idea for bucky, he has an assistant which is more like naive, sensitive maybe a crybaby, and he teases her, is kind of mean to her sometimes, humiliates her, etc, maybe the dark twist is that he is into her and has a corruption kink…

        ꒰ SPARKLES ꒱

naive.ᐟreader && dark.ᐟcongressman .ᐟbucky barnes

"You gonna cry for me now, doll? C'mom, do it, do it for me."

The Congressman's deep voice makes your heart clench and you cage your lower lip between your teeth to stop the tears that threaten to spill.

Bucky's dark eyes dart from your face to your body and he licks his lips, stepping closer, effectively trapping you between the huge window and his massive body.

His hand comes up and grips your cheeks so hardly, your jaw falls slack.

His other hand nestles between your thighs and you choke on a moan. Bucky smirks, then his eyes bore into yours and you feel tingles of fear and some kind of twisted pleasure in your belly and you let out a small whine.

He sees how his own eyes darken in the reflection of your glossy eyes. "You're the prettiest when you whimper like this, and I barely put my hands on you.", Bucky growls, thumb caressing your face. "I love your face, baby, you look so stupid and those eyes look dumbly adorable, I mean...that's all you are." He always calls you dumb. At this point, you fully believe him.

When you try to flinch away, he goes on, almost like he is feeding on your frightened state. "But don't worry, doll, we're gonna fix this right now." You swallow, throat tightening at his words.

"You'll be the best girl f'me, I jus' know it."

Your eyes widen and shame burns in your cheeks when you feel a gush of wetness coating your underwear. And he feels it, too.

ahhh i'm so happy rn thank you thank you thank you!

I'M SURE YOU'LL EAT THEM UP, I'M SO EXCITED TO SEEEEE WHAT YOU'RE GONNA WRITEEE

for inspo, you could use my PROMPTS if you want to, they helped other writers too lol

p.s: im soooo embarrassed to send you theseeee, you're so amazing and don't need my shit, but idk, I can only hope they help idkkk

WAITTTT IM OBSESSED PLS THEY’RE AMAZING STOP

literally going to pull from these at some point omg tysm <3