Dark!bucky - Blog Posts

The sculptor

Summary: Bucky has a way with words and actions, a true machiavellian under that pearly smile and those stormy eyes, well he knows he has the reader wrapped around his little finger, putty in his hands and he knows exactly how to mold her.

Pairing: Dark!Bucky x Naive!Reader

Word count: 1605

Warnings: TW/mentions of sexual assault, cockwarming, manipulation, edging, overstimulation.

A/N: so this is an entry for @mariessecretfantasies 500 followers challenge based losely on the lyric prompt 23 or Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps) by David Bowie, and also my first attempt at writing Dark bucky so any and all constructive criticism is welcome!

He takes his time with you, never in a hurry, never afraid. He isn't scared of losing the feel of your soft skin under the palm of his hands, your legs that wrap so well around him, the mouth he drinks out of, he consumes you everyday. To the brink and back, leave you heaving and broken but you'll never leave,

This is what he did, this is his reward, that's what he wanted and so it's what he has, his silly little woman wrapped like a coil around his little finger,

He watched you with half lidded eyes, his strong arms folded behind his head and the hints of a smirk that stretchs his lips, he'll let you exhaust yourself, before he makes a move, low whines rumbling through your chest

"Buckyyy, please" your head lulled back and your perfect tits in the air with every bounce, your hands on his abdomen, you stop every once in a while, pressing your hands down and grinding your hips, scratch your nails down his chest, make promises, anything for him to just please let you get there,

No matter how hard you try it just isnt the same, your strength is always less compared to him, and this drive to reach the high, with him, but he wouldn't give in, not that easily

You've always been so useless on your own, you know it too "please! I-I promise I'll be better, I'm stupid anyway, please bucky I won't ask you again" you whine again, it feels like it's been hours, your body and all its nerves on fire with need but he looked much too pleased with the little game.

Your shoulders slumped, body tingling with the overwhelming feeling of fullness but nothing more, body falling forward onto his chest, and those pearly tears on the harbor waiting for release when he speaks

"I don't know why you do it" he tsked, your whimpers in his ear as he looks down at the mess of hair and sweaty limbs on top of him, "asking me if you could go to the city, when I've told you that you can't, Don't you trust me?" He asked you, face pressed into his chests and soft sobs choked out,

"Look at me Y/N" you could hear your heart crack more, why did he call you by your name? Had you done it this time? What if he didn't want anything to do with you now?

"Why would you want to go there? In that danger? You know what would've happened if I hadn't found you don't you? I've given you anything you could want and more? So why do you always want to leave? Am I not enough?"

Big sad eyes peered into the bright azure of his, the pearly tears shining under the dim sunlight, you were a vision, so perfectly compliant, putty in his hands. He had you by the throat, his fingers pressing where it hurt and he knew that he had won the round, He was pygmalion and you were his best creation,

"No-No you're perfect bucky, so much better than I deserve, you've given me everything, I promise I won't ask again, I don't even know what i was thinking please don't leave me" you said quick and breathless, all choked up and he knew that you were close to a breakdown,

He operated these strings, he knew how to push you and he knew your limits, the perfect woman, a beautiful little doll and he was the handler.

"Leave you? Oh honey I could never" he changes it, his tone sympathetic, his eyes morose "are you sure that you don't want to leave?"

Hold the string that aches the deepest, gather it hard, dig with your nailbeds and pull

"No I promise! I love you, only you Sergeant please" he growled, you knew how to push him too,

"I'm yours please bucky take me"

You had to say no more, he turned you over at the speed of light, fingers digging into your thighs, he pushes your legs up, stuck so well against him,

He's heard your whines and he's heard your pleas, and hes seen what a perfect mess you can be and he wants all of it, every inch of it and more, he wants to destroy you, his, that's all you are and that's all you need to be,

So he gives it to you, hard and fast, hips jutting at the speed of light, he'd leave you struggling to hold on, so you could do nothing but take it, take him, anything and everything he would give you,

His doll squeals against him, one moment the squeals are muffled by his mouth and then the regal metal of his hand is closing around your neck, you see stars, your vision blackening around the edges and raw pleasure coursing through your veins,

You had never felt so good before, you probably wouldn't have existed without him, he's all you knew,

Close so close, you love it when he uses you like this, so majestic on top of you, when the only thing you could focus on was the dark azure, the pressure of metal on your neck and the feeling of fullness that comes with being joined to him this way, and you love every bit of it,

So you give in, let your body pull you into the deep ditch of ecstasy, he leaves you twitching and gasping, you tell him as best as you can "I-I'm-!"  his pace increasing at the notion and then you couldn't think anymore,

The electricity that reignited all of your nerve endings was too sweet to miss out on, you were floating for hours, stars in your eyes and the imprint of the beautiful blue ones you spend your days losing yourself in,

Limbo, sweet, sweet limbo, that's your safe place. You feel him belatedly, those strong arms wrapped around you again and his soft lips on your cheek, he was purring against you, when you stretched your fingers to feel his stubble and then his long beautiful strands, you moved your face to pull him in, show him how grateful you were with a single kiss.

He let's you, he knows he has you in his fist, He rules inside your mind, coiled around your soul, he's all you have, He has made sure of it.

"I love you" you murmers against his lips and he replies with a hum

"I don't like it when you talk about useless things like that"

But I just wanted to go out

You don't question him, you've learnt not to.

"It's been happening way too much for my liking, you know how i feel about this don't you little doll"  "yes Bucky"

You're such a bad person.

"I mean the least you could do is be grateful, you wouldn't last one day out there, if I hadn't saved you that day you wouldn't be alive either" and don't you know it, all too well.

You wouldn't be alive without him, the odds were never in your favor, you're only a silly girl who ran from an abusive home, a hitchhiker who trusted the wrong crowd, a fragile girl on the brink of death when he saved her, he saved you, the mystery man from the gas station, that's what you knew him as then.

Those blue eyes had always enticed you, you'd noticed him staring at you from across the dinner down the street, the cap hung on his head and his locks behind his ears, it irked you then, it looked like he could see right through you, but know you knew that it's because he did.

You were a lost little girl looking for stability and love, when you got on the truck that day you didn't expect the turn it took,

It's when they stopped on a rest stop, for a little while at night, you didn't know when it took the turn it did, how the sleazy men that rode with you managed to overpower you, you had  wanted to put up a fight, you thought you had it in you, but it's when you heard the rip of your dress that you realized you really didn't, that there was nothing you could do,

Until you saw it, the gloved hand that grasped the shoulder of the man on top of you, Bucky saved you when no one else would, he took you away from the big bad world,

So what if you weren't allowed to go into the city anymore? The city had done nothing for you anyway,

The little voice in your head used to scream at you all day but now it only popped back once in a while, it was easier to ignore now,

It stung how you couldn't do some things you thought you would do once you had it under control, if that night hadn't happened. You had hoped to leave when bucky rescued you, but that was never your choice to make anyway.

You were ungrateful about it, the voice always told you to fight it, leave him, that he was a monster, for trapping you this way, that he never really asked you if you wanted to be loved the way he loved you,

It was silly, at least you were loved. You'd take whatever he'd give you, his anger, his lust, his love. You'd give and give until you had nothing left to give,

The Perfect little girl, you were Galatea and He was the perfect sculptor.

Shattered Pieces

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Genre: Romance. Smut in the future. Angst.

Warnings: Y/N was almost attacked. 

Summary: Bucky and Y/N were in love back in the 40s but Hydra took Bucky away from Y/N. Y/N tried to find him but HYDRA stopped her and she paid a price. Now all they knew was Bucky was dead, however they were wrong. Can she face the new Bucky, the infamous Winter Soldier?

This story takes place in Captain America The Winter Soldier.This will be a short story. Sorry for any tyops. Likes and comments are welcomed in this house lol, stay safe my dudes!! Text me if I forgot to tag you <333

Tag List is open!!!!

Chapter 4

A month passed since the incident, Bucky was nowhere to be found and Steve gathered a team of talented people to chase him. Y/N was also a part of the team, Natasha wasn't included but before she left town she brought files on Bucky from Kiev. 

The Intelligence Community was helping the team as well, Y/N first tried Brooklyn, she thought maybe Bucky remembered and started with Brooklyn but it was a dead end, however, finally they got signals from Europe.  He was a well trained assassin and knew how to hide, everyday Y/N's hopes crashed but with the dawn of new day she dared to hope again. What happened to Bucky was a tragedy and she wanted to make things right, they were on SHIELD's chopper heading to Romania. Steve was giving orders as always, Y/N's mind was somewhere else, she wondered what their conversation would be if they saw each other again. ''Y/N?'' Steve called her name for the third time, ''Yeah?'' she said with a faint voice. ''We are landing.'' The inside was loud so they were talkinf through black headphones, ''Alright.''

Team was tired so Steve gave them onre day to recover, SHIELD took care of the hotel, it was an expensive one. Steve and Y/N's rooms were on the same floor, ''I'm gonna take a shower, you should eat without me.'' she said. She was tired, the dark circles under her eyes were the proof of how hard she was working to find Bucky, Steve felt sad everyday to see his friend like that. ''Y/N, try to get some sleep.'' He said and went into is room.

She walked inside and locked her door, dropped her bag and hit the shower. It was a long and hot one, after that she got dressed because she had plans of her own. It was still early to travel and go to the places they marked on the map to find Bucky. She wore a simple blue denim pants, a black sweater and a black hat. She had a grey backpack, she  gave her tired self a look on the tall mirror before she left, ''God I look tired!'' they were in the capital city of Romania, which was Bucharest. The spies of SHIELD gave them few addresses of sububrs, dangerous places. ''If I were Bucky which place I would choose?'' Y/N thought, she was on a taxi and had a map on her lap. ''I would choose a crowded place to blend in, maybe an apartment building. Windows would be covered.'' 

She gave an address to the driver, she was watching the city through the dirty window, people minding their own business, everything seemed normal but nothing about her life was normal. The sun was setting and leaving an orangy red colour on the deep blue clouds, as she left the taxi she tipped the driver and kindly smiled at him, he was an old man with a deep accent. ''Sweet girl,'' he said, ''be careful around here.'' he was right the place looked shady. 

She watched the car leave, kids were playing together, throwing balls at each other, she was few women with bags, entering a tall apartment building. She sat on a bank near a big tree, trying to decide what she should do first. The last time she tracked Bucky she ended up being the toy of Hydra, she pushed the unwanted memories away. She opened her backpack and pulled a picture of Bucky, ''I have nothing to lose.''

For hours she asked people if they knew the man in the picture, some couldn't speak English, the ones that did couldn't help her. Now it was late night, children were already gone home, only stray dogs, and cats were out. She inhaled deeply, ''I knew it! I won't be able to find him on my own.'' she hated herself, if it was the other way around Bucky would've found her weeks ago. 

She gave a last look and put the picture back, as she was walking and looking around she decided to walk pass the tall apartment, the alley was dark. She was having a really shitty they and the last thing she wanted was some boys to chase her but here they were. 3 boys were sitting at the corner of a building but when they saw her they started to call out for her, she couldn't understand Romanian so she kept on walking, however the boys seemed interested. ''Nu vorbesc românește.'' She said which was the only sentence she knew in Romanian, it meant ''I don't speak any Romanian.'' but the boys started to laugh.  One of them was smoking and he threw the cigar on the ground, got close to Y/N. Y/N blocked his hand with hers, ''Leave and no one gets hurt!'' she yelled. 

She wanted to be heard by anyone but there was no one, or so she thought. She kicked the one close to her, he fell on his back. Other two pulled out their knives but something stopped them. They were looking at something behind her, they stood still for a second and helped their friend who was holding his crotch and struggling on the cold ground. Together they ran. She turned to see what was behind her and and saw him. Bucky was standing tall and looking at her.

''I told you to not come after me.'' He said annoyed, his ocean eyes regarded her with a strange calmness, she cleared her throat before she found herself lost in them, ''And I told you that I'll find you wherever you go.'' she snapped back. After leaving America Bucky did reaserch and collected pictures of her and Steve but he still didn't remember what she was to him before. ''Where do you live?'' Y/N asked, simply trying to strike a convo. ''You should leave. It's not safe out here.'' Bucky said and Y/N could swear that he was concerned for her safety and she smiled. He didn't wait for her reply and turned to leave but she spoke quickly, ''I can help you remember who you once were.'' He stopped in his tracks, she could see he was having doubts. ''Take me to your place and I will tell you everything. I know you want to know.'' She was silently praying that he would say yes, he turned back. Held her arm thightly, ‘’Follow me.’’ and he took her to his place.

His place was small, windows were covered with newspapers as she expected, dirty dishes were in the sink. Kitchen and the livingroom were connected, the source of light was a white light bulb, there wasn't a bedroom, his livingroom was also where he slept. As he closed the door she was standing, not knowing where to go. There was a brown couch with two pillows, they looked old, the walls were red and the rest were light green. He locked the door, she could see that he was trying hard not to look at her but why? ''May I sit here?'' She asked carefully, he simply nodded so she just sat. ''Nice place.'' Y/N tried to think of something and she cursed at herself for feeling like a school girl in front of him, ''After all these years do I still love him?'' he gave out a sarcastic laugh. She rolled her eyes which caught his attention, ''Why didn't you kill me in my house? Or that bridge? You could've easily ripped my head off but you didn't.'' she finally spoke after the silence. Bucky sat on his messy bed, got rid of his black jacket and hat. ''I wasn't sent to kill you, Pierce sent me to give you a message, but you attacked me, and then-'' he stopped, looked her in the eye. ''I remembered something, a memory. It made me stop chocking you to death.'' He was trying to be careful she could see that, ''What was it?''

''Do you really have to know doll?'' there he was, the Bucky that stole her heart 70+ years ago, it made her body completely warm to see that he was becoming more himself, ''I'm a curious gal, Sergeant.'' she slightly flirted, crossed her legs and took off her hat and jacket like he did. ''Okay... as I was chocking you with my metal arm on your kitchen island, I remembered a time where we,'' he cleared his throat, ''Having sex on a bed, I was chocking you and you were calling my name.'' he finally said it. His cheeks got pink, Y/N didn't expect that answer, her mouth was faintly open, ''Well, yes we used to do that sometimes.'' she wanted to punch herself for saying that. ''Why am I like this?'' Bucky's cheeks were red now, he looked at her entire body, a thought of how small she would be under him crossed his mind and that sent familiar signals to his body, he also had other steamy memories ever since he escaped spent his time by himself. ''You said you will tell me everything, I'm listening.'' Bucky said, he desperately wanted to know, ''What do you want to know? Steve? Me? or what kind of an asshole you were?'' Y/N couldn't help herself, she thouhght he would be offended by her remark but she caught a grin on his smooth looking lips,

 ''I forgot how they felt.'' 

he acted like he was in deep thought, ''I know that Steve Rogers was my childhood friend, I remember some stupid stuff we did back in the day, I want to know you. Who you were to me? How did we meet? What was I to you?'' His voice broke at the end, some light left his ocean eyes, Y/N wanted to hold him right there and never let him go but she knew it would freak him out, she had to tell the story first.

She took a deep breath, laid her back on the not so comfortable couch, ''I was Steve's friend and one day he introduced you to me. You were 19 and I was 15, it was the summer of 1936...''

Do you like the chapter? Lemme know ;)

Tag List: @jellyroom2​ @allonszassbutt​ @haynsey​ @toomuchbucky​ @putinovertime​ @marialopezzz0922​

still available! ♡♡

⋆⁎✽๛ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 --- for requests

෴ 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑: This content is dark and very triggering. Minors and easily triggered people, do not interact. Your mental health matters. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

෴ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: MY CONTENT IS DARK AND DARK ONLY. My requests are now OPENED. You can request as many fictions as you want, but you have to check out my CHARACTERS LIST and my WARNINGS first. IF YOU ARE ANON, USE AN EMOJI, SO WE CAN TALK MORE <3. Request via my INBOX. Please, also write a short summary of your ideas, do not just send in the number of the promp and the character. Thank you.

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 I will use for these: Choking; chasing kink; Dacryphilia (tear kink); fear kink; dv + heavy violence; restraints; manhanding and others. Please choose a few in your request.

"You flinch like that again in public, and I’ll give you a real reason to." (1)

"I don’t remember asking what you wanted, sweetheart." (2)

"You can cry if you want. Won’t change a damn thing." (3)

"That’s the problem with you. You never fucking listen." (4)

"Go ahead. Tell me no again." (5)

"You move, and I promise it’ll be worse." (6)

"I told you to sit down. Don’t make me say it twice." (7)

"You think I give a fuck if you’re scared?" (8)

"I liked you better when you knew your place." (9)

"You’re only still breathing because I let you." (10)

"See how quiet you can be after I slap you around?" (11)

"You can beg if you want. Doesn’t mean I’ll stop." (12)

"Do I look like a man who’s gonna change his mind?" (13)

"At least make yourself useful, baby." (14)

"You act like I haven’t done this before." (15)

"If you were strong enough to stop me, angel, you would have by now." (16)

"C'mon, baby, don't cry...we haven't even started." (17)

"I'll destroy your pretty face of yours if you do that again." (18)

"Come here. Now." (19)

"I'd suggest you returned because if I catch you...you won't like what I'll do to you." (20)

can i request kinda part two of frigtening new world please? it is soo good, the tense is >>

I will get to it, love, I promise. I have small hints and ideas, but elaboration of the plot from you would help a lot. However, I have many requests and WIPs I prioritize and want to finish first. But I WILL write a part two, hopefully asap.

p.s: thank you for your kind words, you have made my day, really! ♡

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

Thinking about Steve Rogers and number 17 (we haven’t even started)

Including age gap, power dynamics, Dacryphilia, fear kink. Honestly thinking about a sickly sweet kidnapper!Steve who’s been stalking reader. “Don’t you think you’re one lucky girl, got Captain America desperate to use that pretty little cunt” and ohhhhh god. He tells reader how special she is, she was made for it, so she better start acting fuckin grateful. Prompt comes in the first time he’s gonna actually use her fully

~~ ✨🍄 for emoji signoff

BEWITCHINGLY FEARFUL

younger.ᐟcaptive reader && dark.ᐟsteve rogers with PROMPT (17)

DARK AND TRIGGERING CONTENT AHEAD, THESE ARE THE WARNINGS.

You crawled your shuddering body in the corner of the disgustingly narrow dorm he put you in a while ago. You didn’t even remember when he had brought you here, the time seemed to dilate and constrict, you didn’t know how long has gone since you were taken from your ordinary lifestyle. The room was barely kissed by a cold neon light from outside of it. The light refracted through a thin glass above the metal door and there was no other source of illumination. 

In an instant, the sound of metal howling—the door was much rusted and it sounded infernal every time it was unlocked—made you flinch and bury your lips in the back of your wrist to stop the fearful sobs from escaping. 

The unnatural coldness of the neon made your weakened, teary eyes scrunch in pain, but not for long. 

The light was tracing Steve Roger’s broad figure, and it made his shoulders and arms look impossibly titanic and all-consuming. Fear was the death of the mind—you knew it—but for you, it was different. Fear made you see grotesque and leviathanic things, it possessed you and your every sense. Or maybe—this was just the effect the man above you had and not your rational feeling.

When he crouched down next to you, the heart almost jumped from your chest. Acidic tears of hatred, anger and frighten ran down your cheeks as his fingers caressed the burning skin of them.  You didn’t pull away. You knew better.

“How’s my beautiful girl, hm?”, he started, a faint smug smirk planted on his face. 

You swallowed with difficulty, the insipidness of the spit running down your deserted throat and your eyes shot up and bore into his arctic blue ones.

He was Captain America. That one Captain America everyone talked about. He was supposed to protect the souls of his countrymen, not lock young and unwilling girls in the basements of his houses and force them to breathe moldy air in his nightmarish presence.  

You whined when his calloused, huge hand wrapped around your jaw and squeezed as he pulled your face closer to his. It hurted so much. “Tell me you want me too, sweetheart. Look how much I love you.”, he grunted, eyes sparkling with sickening hope as his free hand crept between the flesh of your thighs. You tried to close your legs as you pulled your face away roughly, before he even got the chance to plant his poisonous kisses all over it. 

Steve clenched his jaw tightly, and you saw the muscles in his knuckles tighten. Like a snap of a bone, his patience cracked and he slapped you across the face. You gritted your teeth as his arms, surprisingly tender, contrasting what he has just done, wrapped around your body. “Can’t you see what you’re doin’ to me?”, Steve asked—as if he forgot the act of violence he threw upon you seconds ago—, forcing your palm over his brutally rigid bulge. It made you feel even more dizzy and nauseous, its thickness scaring you to your core. “I love you, sweetheart, I love you so much. You’re so special.” His heartbeat patted loudly against your back. “N-no…”, you whimpered, trying to get out of his hold. But it was completely useless, strengthening serum was running through his veins and the determination he had in playing with your mind into believing he cared for you genuinely made your skin crawl.

 “Sweetheart, show a little gratitude. I saved you from the misery you lived in, and I’ll give you a future by my side, you’ll be the most gorgeous thing on my arm, you’ll have everything you would ever possibly want. Jus’ be good for me, ‘cause you won’t leave this place, so why not make it pleasurable for yourself?”. His hand reached for his jeans and the sound of the zip made you tense again and clench your thighs together in fear even harder. 

“I j-just wanna go home…”, you cracked, a sob tearing through you. 

Steve shook his head and then, he reached for your face again, his thumb rubbing the tears off. 

“F-fuck you…”, you spat, as realization just hit you again and brightened your mind into acknowledging who was holding you, as he pulled you over his thigh, making you staddle it in attempt of stopping your cries... “Don’t you think you’re one lucky girl, got Captain America so desperate to use your pretty little cunt…”, Steve grunted in your ear as he reached out to toy with the lace of your underwear, purposefully ignoring the way you cursed at him.

His words pulled the last string of obedience from you, and, as if you forgot the burn of his slap, you hit him right across the face. You were slowly but surely slipping into madness down there, because no fully sane person, chiefly in your position, wouldn't do that to the golden boy of America.

It did nothing to injure him. However, his gaze turned obsidian, void of any sympathy or human emotion. He inhaled, chest puffing and almost throwing you off his thigh. Your limbs went still as his stare pinned you in place. This was possibly your greatest mistake ever made. 

You expected to receive a slap — not a punch. It sent you right on the chill-soaked floorboards. Your trembling knuckles reached for the blood-covered cheekbone, agonizingly gently to wipe it off. The crimson substance was hot on your digits, warming their frozen state. 

Steve’s knee fell on your spine, as his merciless grasp tore your underwear off your hip bones. You whined, but the punch drained the life out of you, so you were very feeble and you could do nothing against it but whimper and plead.

If he cared for you, just as he has claimed...why wasn't he stopping when he saw you so vividly and indisputably horrified?

“I fuckin' love it when you're so scared f'me...”, he growled in your ear. Tears made your body convulse, his words giving you the answer to your unspoken question, as he was preparing his thick member to take what he wanted from you, silent screams wrecking your being. Your mind was shouting: 'Please, do not do this. Not now. Not ever.'

“C’mon, baby, don’t cry…we haven’t even started.”

⁎✵࿔๛ TAGS: @highonmarvel

⋆⁎✽๛ 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)

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.

I'm am deceased, THIS MEANS SO MUCH OMG, especially coming from YOU....I love love love dark!Bucky and I never thought I would write dark!Sam but here I am I guess lol. I ADORED writing this, it was so so much fun experimenting with the characters. Thank you again! ♡

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.

「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.

this was my breakfast, literally! The way you write always mesmerizes me, and I have an odd obsession with it, I re-read these almost every night 😫💕 so, so beautiful, can't wait for MORE 🗣️

Control [prologue]

When an audition that could make your career is offered, you move back to New York and reconnect with your estranged father, and find out his old friend is the casting director, but you’ll have to do much more than wanted to get the role.

CONTENT WARNINGS! all my fics contain dark content including, but not limited to, noncon, dubcon, and explicit descriptions of violence and abuse. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. 18+, please!

Note; this is loosely based on Black Swan (2010). enjoy! hopefully. of course, love to @thehydraethereal.

You were 10 when you realised your father was selfish. No one else thought so—he was Captain America, for God’s sake! Always willing to risk his life for the nation and the world, but never for his only daughter, his only child. Maybe one could say you were the selfish one, but while you respected him as a hero, you resented him as a father. You had nightmares where he got hurt, and you pleaded with him to leave that life behind—he said he did this to protect you, but what use was your being alive if he never made time to see it? After the ordeal with the Sokovia Accords, his disappearance solidified your anger towards him. You weren’t even a teenager yet, and he did bother to even say goodbye.

Life with your mother wasn’t at all bad—she was wonderful, and supportive, and you understood why she left your father; just like you, she was always anxious about him, until she couldn’t take it anymore. You were young when your parents split, having just started grade one, but you refused to go with her, longing to look up to the superhero she left behind. You couldn’t understand why she would leave the bravest man on the planet, why she wanted him to stop saving the world, until you lived with him. There’s hardly anything worse than getting back from school to an empty house, staying up past midnight waiting for your father to come back, and then watching him limp in, battered and bruised, his suit dirty and ashen, and not being able to do anything to help him.

When you moved in with your mother, you still felt a part of you was just undiscovered. You had this nervous energy you needed to release, you felt the need to do something with your body like your father did, but running and boxing were too undisciplined for you, and made your life feel more out of control than it offered a respite, and that’s when you found dance. You could use your body to express yourself without fear of losing control: you never wanted to go back to not knowing what could happen. You were often told this was a detriment to your unmatched talent, your refusal to improvise and let go hindered your performance, but still you refused to let yourself fall victim to potential injury, you couldn’t bear to see your mother that stressed over someone’s health again.

There weren’t many ballerinas in the small town you lived in, and so your relative popularity didn’t mean too much to you, but when a New York instructor saw a small production of The Nutcracker, you, for the first time, really realised your true potential. Ballet was your life, but moving back to New York ten years after leaving made you nervous. How many times had The Avengers destroyed that city? And it wasn’t really fear of being a casualty that made you anxious, but rather the constant reminders you’d see of your father’s heroism, and that would undoubtedly bring back unpleasant memories.

You couldn’t pass up the opportunity to perform Swan Lake. Your mother said she couldn’t come with you to New York, and you understood why. Neither of you had much money—until you passed that audition and made a stable career out of it, you certainly weren’t going to make it in that big city.

Maybe this big step brought about a little recklessness, because despite your years of conditioning yourself to poise and composure, you felt compelled to try out for the Black Swan, and lose yourself this time, to a more bold and seductive style, possibly to show your father he had missed out on your transformation into a woman.

It wasn’t hard to track him down, and you were short with him on the phone.

“I’ve got an audition in NYC. I need a place to stay for a little. If it works out, I’ll be able to get a new place, if not, I move back home. It’ll be less than a month.”

“An… audition?” he started, and you could practically hear his brows furrow, but he seemed to think better than to ask too many questions, and he sounded almost desperate though he tried to keep his voice level. On the verge of begging, he continued, “That’ll be amazing— it— it’ll be alright, honeycakes.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to cringe at the nickname, instead overcome by a wave of nostalgia, somehow longing for a memory of fatherly love you never really had. You cleared your throat and gave a quick confirmation of the date you’d be arriving before hanging up, and deciding it would be best to hold your head in your hands for a little, taking deep breaths to process this.

You had packed very light—a single bag—to make sure he really got the message you didn’t plan on staying any longer than necessary. You're surprised that when get out the cab, he’s standing on the sidewalk, hesitantly waiting for you to step out. You nearly don’t recognise him: he has a full beard now, and even though it has been ten years, it seems his soul had been wearied beyond that, his demeanour close to flat until you step into view, and he stands straighter as he sucks in a deep breath and gives a tight-lipped smile.

“Hi,” he greets, slightly breathless.

“Hi, Dad.”

He sighs in relief when you say the word, and you know why: he had abandoned you, he was right to think you didn’t consider him your father anymore, but the word slipped out, and you couldn’t take it back if you wanted to.

He surprisingly pulls you into a hug, squeezing you tightly, but you can’t bring yourself to return his embrace. He awkwardly pulls away and takes a step back.

“You’re so grown up,” he whispers as he looks at you, something like regret in his eyes. And you want to make a snarky comment about how he missed out on it but bite your tongue and give a slight smile and a small nod, rocking back and forth on your heels.

“Welcome home.”

♬

[my beloved taglist: @cowboysnbugs, @keito-123, @vogueprincess, @cjand10, @mybabygirllove, @chinggay85-blog]

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

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