Apostate 2

Apostate 2

Warnings: violence, needles, nonconsensual sex. (<— hey you see that, that’s a warning, please heed it.)

This is dark!(hydra!)Steve and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You awake to a startling revelation.

Note: Special shoutout to @buckybarnesplumwhore​ and @opheliadawnwalker3​ who listened to me rant about this idea and I forgot to mention them before so shame on me. This is the conclusion of this two-parter and there is unlikely to be more but as always, it’s never impossible. 

Thanks to everyone for the encouragement. If y’all want the inspo for this one, here it is. Thank you. Love you guys!

Leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You awoke to voices. An argument distant as your eyelids refused to part more than a slit. You were weak, your throat burned, and your head pulsed. You laid on something cold and hard. The light was bright and blinding and your eyes watered as you fought to open them wider. Your arm was heavy as you dragged it over your torso and touched your cheekbone, bruised from the brick wall.

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Sugar Daddy’s [5/6]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: If you can’t tell yet – things of a sexual nature are involved.   Summary: Suave, confident, charming Bucky Barnes has a deep dark secret – and you, a small-town investigative journalist, are determined to get to the bottom of it. What lurks in his shadowed past, and how deeply will you be drawn in? Co-written with the wonderfully stupendous @caitfairwrites!

It’s an ice cream kind of day – ice cream at four o’clock in the afternoon, under that warm summer sun; air ripe with freshly-mown grass and the climax of weeks’ worth of anticipation. 

Sugar Daddy’s is open for business. 

A crush of customers makes for standing room only on the sidewalk outside, but you’ve got special permission to slip under the proverbial velvet rope – seriously, why hadn’t Bucky ordered one? – and sweep into the shop with a broad smile on your face and a pretty sundress swinging about your legs. Shoes clicking brightly on the black-and-white tile. 

It’s cool inside, thick and sweet with the scent of freshly-made waffle cones; a heady tumble of chocolate and sugar and berries. A hum from the freezers; and the crisp step of a familiar tread makes you turn. “My favorite customer,” Bucky teases from around the glass ice cream case. “Little presumptuous, showing up before we officially open. Thanks for coming.” 

Oh, there’s a joke there. Favorite, open, come – Bucky’s certainly generous today, but any wit dies sweet on your tongue as you drink him in. Hair lush and styled; a crisp white shirt, black jeans. A soft bomber jacket that practically melts against his broad shoulders. And a different kind of smile – nothing devilish about this crooked grin; the crinkle about his eyes. There’s a tension to his bottom lip, and the way his fingers play with the zipper of his jacket, drum against the counter, and then finally, grip the edge – he’s nervous. 

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Manipulation Station

Pairings: Snowpiercer Dark!Curtis x Dark!Reader

Warnings: 18+, Snowpiercer movie (movie line*) spoilers, unprotected sex, poisoning.

Summary: Curtis accepts Wilford’s offer to lead the train and selects the Reader, the resident executioner for the first class criminals, as he wife.

Written for @jtargaryen18​ Dark Curtis Holiday Challenge. The way she writes is an absolute favorite. Read and enjoy her pieces- she’s a gifted lady!

Prompt: “I don’t owe you patience or trust.”

Word Count: 10576

“Do you think you’ll be safe when I’m gone, dear girl?”

“I can take care of myself, Wilford. I have most of my life.”

“Yes, but you’ll need to sleep sometime.”

Wilford rose from the chair and made his way to the rolling drink cart along the office wall, “You’re great at what you do. You’re an investment to order.” He smiled proudly at you before turning his back to mix a dirty martini. “But when I’m gone, there may be family members looking for revenge. That worries and saddens me deeply. To think I can no longer protect you. Especially after everything you’ve done and all those times you’ve kept order on our sacred engine.”

One.

Two.

Three olives plopped into the glass.

You bit the inside of your cheek at his words, remembering on how many past punishments and executions you carried out in Wilford’s name. The many times you were requested to be maintain control for him and carry out repercussions on the first and second class passengers.

You were good at it. Maybe too good. Without Wilford’s protection, you’d have to be on constant watch until someone relieved you from your position permanently.

“This may not even come to pass, but if it does- I need to know you’ll agree. I need you. He’ll need you. Between you and me, Gilliam reassures me you’re a shoo-in. I don’t doubt you for a moment, dear,” Wilford raised his glass to toast you before sipping the drink. “Curtis’ll want you on the spot. You’re an extremely important tool. Trust me. You’re more his type than even he realizes.”

“I do trust you,” you replied automatically. “I always have. You’ve protected me and allowed me the pleasure of administering your final word to those ungrateful.”

“Exactly, dear girl. You understand my picture,” Wilford patted your shoulder as he passed by to take a seat. “Our picture. I need you to keep being that important tool. Keep the train on the right track, so to speak.” He winked at you before biting into an olive. 

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Beautiful and Damned 9 - Unsteady [Geralt of Rivia x Reader]

A.N: My darlings, your wonderful feedback makes me so happy, thank you! Please don’t forget to tell me what you think of this chapter, kisses!

Reminder: This story will not follow the show’s plot, so even if you haven’t watched the series, you can still read it.

The previous chapters are on my masterlist!

Summary: Rejection is always heartbreaking.

Word Count: 3469

Warnings: Mentions of violence and death, poverty.

Rejection was a strange thing.

Through the whole night until the first lights of the sun shed into the room, you kept turning in the bed, trying your hardest to ignore the storm of thoughts in your mind. The room got brighter and brighter, the chattering from outside and the chirping of birds filling the air and Cassie walked around in the room, but you didn’t even have the energy to answer her questions.

You should’ve known she wouldn’t just let it go.

“Are you sick or something?” Fin’s voice reached your ears and you rolled your eyes, then rolled onto your back.

“No.”

“It’s noon.”

“So?”

“If you’re still sulking over being awkward with Geralt-“

“Don’t.” you shook your head, then sat down and pulled the furs with you, playing with the hem of your long nightgown. Fin tilted his head, pulling his brows together.

“What happened?”

“I wish to stay in bed today. And tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to.”

Fin scoffed, “Not good enough,” he said as he climbed to the foot of the bed carefully, “Tell me.”

You tried to blink back the tears, then heaved a shaky breath and narrowed your eyes at him,

“This is your fault, you know.”

“You’ll have to be more specific than that.”

“You encouraged me to- to pursue my interest,” you stammered, “You basically pushed me, and now I’m in disgrace-“

“What are you talking about?”

“Geralt,” you said, “I’m talking about Geralt.”

“What of him?”

“I made a fool of myself,” you snapped at him, “Your- all your talk about how he looks at me and all that nonsense, it was false.”

“No it wasn’t-“

“Fin,” you cut him off, “He doesn’t want me.”

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That lady in the first picture is smirking so hard.

And RIP the girl sitting right behind him.

So these exist…

Beautiful and Damned 10 - Old Scars [Geralt of Rivia x Reader]

A.N: My darlings, your wonderful feedback makes me so happy, thank you! Please don’t forget to tell me what you think of this chapter, kisses!

Reminder: This story will not follow the show’s plot, so even if you haven’t watched the series, you can still read it.

The previous chapters are on my masterlist!

Summary: Sometimes scars have meanings.

Word Count: 3734

Warnings: Mentions of violence, death, nudity

What you would wear for a wedding was in fact the least of your worries, but it wasn’t as if you could just tell that to your mother without being subjected to an hour of her ranting, so you just let her send you a lot of fabrics of a lot of colors, many of which were lying on your bed beside Fin, who was groaning.

“Stop,” you pointed at him as Cassie stifled a laugh, “And get off, you’re wrinkling them.”

“Is there any fabric that means my brother shouldn’t have to do this?”

Cassie shrugged, “Maybe purple? We could write it on the dress with silver threads.”

“Good idea.”

“Don’t encourage him,” you told Cassie and Fin heaved a sigh, then sat up.

“I doubt princess Meriel wants this.”

“That makes two of you, see? You have something in common.”

“No, I mean,” Fin waved a hand in the air, looking for words, “She doesn’t want…me.”

“What?”

“She doesn’t look at me with desire written in her eyes.”

“Fin, I don’t know how to break this to you, but people usually don’t look at people with desire written in their eyes.”

He pouted, “They don’t? Someone should let the witcher know.”

Your gaze sharpened and he waved the white fabric in the air, gesturing surrender.

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