This Is How I Imagine Thay My Blog Looks Like (SHE'S STUNNIN')

GIRL I NEED HIM AND I WILL WRITE WHAT I NEED TO SATISFY US BOTH !!

The beard is doing things to me that I’m not ready to admit.

⋆⁎✽๛ 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)

me and 𝐢𝐭 for real

my tumblr is my private secret account

post your mediocre art girl. anora can win 5 oscars. who fucking cares

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 reeeeeally considering to write for Tom Hardy's characters...

born to be a Frank Grillo blog, forced to be a Rafe Cameron one 😔

Frank Grillo as Brock Rumlow AVENGERS: ENDGAME (2019)

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. 

plsss do a dark professor rafe x young reader who is naive and rafe corrupts her and traps her. Noncon ❤️❤️

๛ PAWN

༻꧂ ᥫONTENT WARNINGS: My content is dark and this piece includes elements such as NON-CON; threats; choking; power imbalance; age gaps; coercion; manipulation, curse words and possible others. MDNI, MY WORKS ARE 18+.

༻꧂ MY NOTES: I love dark Rafe. REQUEST MORE Y'ALL (via INBOX)

༻꧂ CATEGORY: RAFE CAMERON ONE-SHOT (𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌. | 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌.)

꧁༺ SUPPORT ME BY REQUESTING MORE, BY REBLOGGING, COMMENTING AND LIKING. THANK YOU!

"So, you wanna pass, right?", your professor, Rafe, asks, leaning back on the plain wall behind his desk with muscular arms crossed in front of his broad chest, shielding it from your shy eyes. "More than anything!", you whimper, nodding your head vigorously. ”I mean, that’s what my parents want from me…”, you whisperly confess, chewing on the inside of your bottom lip.

“And what a saint you are, listening to your mommy an’ daddy, while all your other classmates don’t give a flying fuck about theirs.” The tone laced with bitter amusement makes you flinch. Rafe has never spoken that way before, you have always considered him a moral person. 

“P-please, sir…just help me pass, I’ll do anything. I’ll study for hours, for days, I don’t care, jus’ tell me what to do…”, you plead. Rafe chuckles, not planning to sentence you to continuous studying, God forbid he would do that to his sweet girl. “Come here.”, he breathes out, admiring his reflection into your glossy, widened eyes. 

You approach his desk with shaky legs and his hand is swift to grab at your throat. The sudden movement makes you sob, fear overcoming all your senses. ‘What is happening?’ is the scream that bubbles up in your mind. 

 “You want to pass? Then give me a reason to make it happen, baby. Otherwise… you fail. Simple.”, he growls, ocean blue eyes now a shade of darkened coal. He squeezes your neck tighter, wordlessly demanding a response. 

You push weakly at his chest, the lack of air starting to become unbearable, a gesture he clearly doesn’t like. "Grades can be fixed. But so can attitudes. Think carefully, sweetheart. I decide what happens next… and trust me, you won’t like failing my class.", he growls again, bending you over his desk.

And, as you feel his austere, calloused hands bruising your thighs, his wife’s eyes, drilling into yours from the pictures on the workbench, were the ones pinning you in place, silencing your nonexistent screams to just whimpers, tears and, just as Rafe grunts from above you, prayers. Prayers to pass with just this “small” gesture. But you’re not so sure. You know professor Rafe, and he is anything but easily convinced.