The "Lucky" One

Is Frightening New World gonna have a part 2? It reads like it would be a series.

yes, but I only have planned a part 2 !! It's not a series, I didn't think it that much ahead lol. i mean, OF COURSE I wanna write what Bucky will do and trust me. Imma feed y'all.

THANK YOU FOR READING BBY! xxx

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

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

Bucky Barnes in Thunderbolts* New Avengers’ end credit scene (2025)

...when life is so rough you gotta re-read the few but fucking marvellous fanfiction pieces your favourite authors have...and their update page looks like this (I'm so fuckin' thristy for y'alls posts😭)

( @highonmarvel @pedrosyouknowwhat @stargirllanaa )

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

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠 @mitskilover0001 ♡

search "my vibe aesthetic" on pin and post the top results

๛﹏⋆ 𝓶𝔂 𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓼: @highonmarvel @pedrosyouknowwhat @streets-in-paradise @rvfecamerons (this is a cute thinggg to do, we also can get to know each other better ♡)

tysm for the tag <3 @yumclaire

search “my vibe aesthetic” on pinterest & post the top results

tags: @bleachbambi @daisyrandoneisme @cellophane-rat-2 @cigarettesincalifornia @jeante13 + anyone else who wants to do it!!

「 THE APPENDACE 」 — PROLOGUE

FIRST CHAPTER ➙

⇀prologue warnings: misogyny; family issues; other possible dark and triggering themes and elements. MDNI! You are responsible for your own media consumption. Barely proofread.

⇀prologue pairings: reader x tony stark (dark and platonic); reader x rafe cameron (platonic); reader x pepper potts (platonic); ward cameron x tony stark (platonic)

⇀note: This fic has been on my mind since foreverrr. And I finally started it. I am the BIGGEST procastinator everr, so bare with me lol. enjoyyy my loveliesss!

⇀W.C: 857 words

» SERIES MASTERLIST | » MAIN MASTERLIST

You had always found your childhood insignificant, more like painful to think about, so you believed it was not important. However, what was important was the way you were raised. 

Living in the ‘most developed times’, equality and respect was supposed to be found at every corner, especially in the circumstances you were born in. Daughter of the most important man of the New York state, CEO of the biggest industry in the U.S, genius and billionaire, you were supposed to have the sweetest life you could get. But ‘Tony Stark’s daughter’ was only a shiny title, that was meant to only blind you, then trap you in the circle of this life, gaslighted into believing your father was ‘a good man’, and he was never wrong. 

Eventually, that became a strong belief of yours. 

He never even tried to bring you up though, his ignorance felt stingy and bitter at first, so you tried to fight and fight and fight for your right to be loved by him. That right never came, so you hid in your shell, keeping the thoughts and emotions only to yourself, never realising they were devouring you from the inside. 

In the world you lived in, the men were making the great decisions, and women had no say in what was happening with them. A memory that did nothing but whip your heart was when you had witnessed the fight between your father and one of his mistresses.

 She had told him she was pregnant, and he calmly told her to ‘get rid of it’. When she protested, saying she really wants to be the mother of her unborn daughter, your father started getting aggressive, stating that he ‘doesn’t need another burden’ as a child. You remembered Pepper’s loving arms wrapping around your small, shaky form and taking you out with her, away from the chaos that was going on inside your father’s office. 

A daughter equaled a burden in your father’s eyes, and that cutting remark burnt in your brain ever since. Little did you know he wasn’t considering daughters only burdens, but at least there was a way that a daughter could earn his… good interest—if it could be called that—and that way was the moment when he realised she could be useful for his greater good. 

Years passed and when you dared to do or say something that Tony displaced, you were quickly reminded that you were only his daughter—synonyms with ‘woman’, a word the man saw as just a tool—, hoping he would get the realization into your head. 

But you still hoped for something, anything from him.

 Another hurtful memory liked to hit you from time to time: you were five or six, and you decided to jump from his office desk, to show him you could do something great, too. But unfortunately, you landed on your stomach, spraining your wrist. Even in all the pain, you found a little happiness, thinking your father would spend more time by your side and comfort you. But the irony of fate was that you were wrong. Again. Tony only threw a comment that ‘it was the stupidest thing to do’, and then shouted at Pepper for leaving you unsupervised. The sobs and cries you had in your small bed scarred you, but you still forgave your father even for that. 

Your father’s business associate, the CEO of the Cameron Industries, Ward, had a son, Rafe, three years older than you,—it was the only reason your father envied him for. Rafe was your only friend growing up. You still remembered how you hid half your face behind a wall, taking up his form. His blond bangs fell in his face, and he was constantly rubbing his ocean blue eyes with his small fingers, trying to get the hair out of his sight. His father’s left hand held his much smaller one, as he greeted your father with the other. Rafe’s eyes scanned the surroundings—he was patient and still for his young age, and extremely used to luxury—but his eyes stopped when he saw you, and, unexpectedly, he waved.

 It was a really tiny gesture, but it meant the world to you, it was one of the few times a male showed you a form of affection. You shyly waved back, then ran away from the hallway. 

But months later, when Ward visited your father again, you and Rafe started growing closer. You were two little children, affected by your parents in different ways—both without mothers to hold you growing up—, but you got along oddly well. This small friendship was your secret, and you loved it, Rafe had sweetened your life. Everything went beautifully, until he turned eighteen and left for college in Europe, and you were left alone again. 

You hoped that…maybe one day, you will find a man like him and get married, portraying your unknown soulmate as your saviour, the man that will get you out of the chaos that occurred in your life. But, once again, your father took care to crush your unique dream under his foot. And all you could do was watch it.

» tags: my beloved sister @highonmarvel , tell me what you think, seriously!!!

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 am genuinely tweaking, the waiting for a new chapter is OVER, but it was SO WORTH IT. I loved seeing more of their non-horny state of mind and the unnoticed effect reader has on each and every one of their minds, it is simply delicioussss. Catfish and Joel are my MEN, I am so serious, and their contrast is eating at me.

ATE THIS UP BABE!

surrender

Summary: Catfish is made to choose.

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOOOOT EATTTT. Noncon, dark dark themes, sexual slavery, reader is in pain and exhausted, heed all previous warnings, threatening, Dark Joel, forced drinking, manipulation, mentions of noncon, idk what else to tag

Pairings: Dark! Joel Miller x reader, Dark! Javier Peña x reader, Dark! Marcus Acacius x reader, Dark! Oberyn Martell x reader, Dark! Agent Whiskey x reader, Dark! Dieter Bravo x reader, Dark! Frankie Morales x reader

Joel felt over aware. As he sat down on the brittle wooden chair, fingerprints drawing circles on the table, the whiskey slid easily down his throat. Something he had gotten from trading with Jackson.

Your image dwindled on his mind, growing weaker by each passing minute. Naked, battered and bruised. He knew you were in pain, pretty cunt gaping obscenely. He knew that he could just crawl over you and fuck you once again if he wished it. You still laid in his bed, bathed and draped in new sheets, awaiting.

The door creaked open, the afternoon breeze accompanying the intruder of his thoughts. Whiskey’s shoulders squared with pride and his chest puffed, closing the door with a cocky kick of his heel.

Joel observed him as he strutted towards the table. His arm stretched under the thick denim of his jacket, and he presented his palm with a cocky grin.

The metal was tarnished, coppery, but the outline was clear. A tiny helicopter pin, Whiskey offered.

Joel felt amusement tug at his lips, but he schooled his expression. The pin clattered against the table, Joel’s eyes glued to it.

Sweet fucking Bingo.

The key to make you finally un-cling to Catfish right in his hands. He took it in his pointer and thumb, observing the way the kitchen light caught onto it.

Whiskey hummed, snapping him out of his thoughts once more.

“I think this settles for a good hour…” He drawled, eyebrow cocking teasingly. A part of him was joking, and the other part of him created a prominent bulge in his pants.

Joel avoided a disgusted scrunch of his face, fighting twitching muscles.

“She’ll need a break for tonight.” He declared, a solemn order that wiped the smirk off his man’s face. "But you'll be rewarded for this, that I promise."

Joel would he lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the way Catfish flinched as the refrigerator door slammed closed under his grip. The cool, condensed bottle sent jolts along his hands. He was buzzing with excitement as he twirled on his feet and planted the bottle on the table with a slight thump.

He ignored the hollers of enjoyment of his fellow men, kicking the chair and taking a seat. Catfish froze under his stare, the all consuming guilt, he pondered.

He grabbed the tumblers on the table, filling them up. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. He poured more onto the last one, and pushed the glass to his designated driver.

Catfish’s brows furrowed under the baseball cap, shaking his head slightly. Joel could see the circles under his eyes, could feel the tenseness of his tanned skin; all a result of you. Your stay in the house was driving him mad.

“Not drinking tonight.” Catfish grumbled, but Joel tapped the glass in front of him.

“You’ll need it.” He muttered, enough to make the others cast side eyed glances at him, with sneaky intrigue. An order.

Javier cleared his throat, flicking ashes into the tray. “How’s the bitch?”

Bitch. Joel liked the ring of that nickname.

Joel’s lips curled into a sloppy smirk. “Fucked out.” He responded casually. “Giving her some damn rest, she took it like a champ.”

Javier smiled in agreement, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Catfish’s hand tense around the condensed glass. Of course he wouldn't enjoy the way they talked about her.

“Gonna bring some ‘plan b’s tomorrow.” He informed, gingerly. “no need to knock her up.”

Joel felt his muscles turn taut, and he grounded his teeth.

“Definitely.” Dieter added, with an air of authority he shouldn’t have. “No need for a little fucker here.”

Some laughed, Oberyn tsked, eyes dreamy as always. “She’d look nice, all round, those tits would be something I’d die for.”

The chair screeched as Catfish rose to his feet, still clutching the tumbler in his hand. Eyes shot at him.

“Where ya going?” Joel barked, a bit more forceful than he would wanted to. God, adrenaline was nibbling at him.

Hatred.

It spread all around Catfish’s face as he looked at them. As if he was any more worthy than they were, any more good. A look he had from the very first time, when Joel recruited him, that told him he thought he was far above them.

“I’m going to bed.” He answered, though his feet stayed stuck to the ground, awaiting.

“No, you’re not.” Joel nudged to the chair. Catfish sat down with a sigh. Good boy.

“What’s the matter?” Acacius frowned, leaning back into the wooden seat. “Don’t like us talking about her like that?”

Catfish’s jaw twitched.

“You never had an issue before.” Whiskey added, the thick smoke of his cigar curling around him in the air. "you even fucked some bitches back then."

Catfish took a sip of whatever was in his cup, perhaps to deter the questioning, perhaps because of the way Joel burnt holes into his skull with his eyes was making him uneasy.

And they persisted.

“You are too soft on her,” Javier deemed between curls of smoke. "that's why she clings so much to ya."

They agreed silently, and Joel felt the flames of jealousy licking at his spine. Each time you mumbled his name softly, he could almost feel the need in your voice for it to be him. To be Catfish the man that was pleasuring you.

As if he was the only man that could do it.

"What were you talking about in the shower?"

Catfish's face paled, but he still cleared his throat. "Nothin'."

"Didn't sound like nothing." Joel bit, studying carefully the nervous flicker of Catfish's hands. "She wants ya to fuck her?"

Catfish grimaced at the crassness of his words, untouched by the way Joel dipped his hand onto the pocket of his shirt.

"She's loosing her mind." He cleared, voice a plea, an excuse, whatever. It didn't matter to Joel.

He shrugged before dropping the pin onto the table; Catfish's eyes flickered from the dark onyx pools that gazed slowly up at him and the tarnished metal that clattered against the table.

His lips parted.

Bingo.

"How's your boy?" Joel drawled, tapping his big, imposing fingers on the wooden table. For a mere moment, he was alone with Catfish, just them under the warm lamp light. "What was his name, Tyler?"

"Joel." Catfish groaned, eyes glued to the silver helicopter.

"When was the last time you saw him, huh?"

Hands curled onto fists, and they slammed against the table. Enough.

Perhaps Joel was blissfully ignorant of the men around them, but Catfish was painfully aware. They were the only thing deterring him from pouncing on top of him.

"What have you done?" He spat, voice shivering.

Joel chuckled darkly, "Nothin'." He retorted.

He could see the way silence clawed at his ears, oh so begging for an answer.

"I haven't done anything, yet." Joel punctuated, slowly feeding him. "Just like you haven't fucked our little bitch yet."

Realization casted on Catfish features, and he shook his head on instinct.

"Joel, this is serious-"

"You know what is serious to me?" He cut him short. "That I cannot possibly trust one of my men anymore, just because he is pussy-whipped with a pussy he doesn't even fuck."

Joel's glare was intense, diminishing Catfish with his sharp tongue.

"And if I can't trust ya, then I have no reason to keep evading that little camp were your son is at."

His final jab made Catfish's eyes cloud with frustration, tears almost brimming. Fear bubbled in his throat as he spoke.

"What do you want from me?"

Cracked.

"You have to fuck her."

Catfish let out a dry, humorless laugh. Panic was nipping at him.

"What do you win from that?"

Joel's brows furrowed. "I miss the times were you just obeyed."

But as his hand reached over to the pin, Catfish spoke again. "Fine, Joel, fine."

Sweat beaded at his forehead just below his baseball cap, and his puppy dog eyes were wide, fearful.

A smug grin tugged at Joel's lips, triumphant in all it's glory. He downed the glass and rose to his feet in anticipation.

"You don't mean-"

"Yes, now. Finish your drink."

Tags:

@tateypots @koshkaj-blog @paink1llerf0rm1ller @oldloganslittleslut @purple-fig @megjohnston23 @katwriteshardy @natalieispunk

@puduvallee @pedrofan @rant-throw-away @jalepp @lumpatto @miragens-para-uma-vitoria

⁎✵࿔๛ 𝐌𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐉𝐈𝐒)

🪼

✨🍄

... list still opened ♡

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒 | 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐌𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐁𝐎𝐗