darkficsyouneveraskedfor

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

I’m cackling at your new theme 🤣❤️

Lloyd is a classy man.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Husband decided to join along in my TWD rewatch but squatter keeps coming out and asking dumb questions and giving 'spoilers'.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Frank is so ready to get his ass kicked

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

AGE OF ULTRON (2015)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

This man refuses to be dumped again.

steve wont be dumped ever again. he got himself a new girl and he wont let her leave.

And she has one weakness. Unconsciousness.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

i almost had forgotten how much mob!steve's girl passes out.

first time fucking: passed out. when he proposes: passed out. during the wedding: passed out. honeymoon: passed out.

Bahahha. "Is she supposed to do that?"

Steve: 🤷‍♂️

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Busy day with lots of meetings.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

He reaches over blindly, not breaking his pace, and grabs your hand. He guides it behind him and down to his ass.

ahhh steve is definitely one of those guys that wants the girl to grab their ass to push him deeper, kinda hot

Oh he is def that type. He wants you to push him in but it also makes him feel wanted. He loves being touched.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

steve really let all of his anger and horny issues onto poor reader, girl is never getting rid of him

Steve just dropped so many loads, and not just physically hehhe. This man refuses to be dumped again.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

I think in a moment of clarity he knows he wants her all for himself. I guess it's a little less suffering for us but we'll never be rid of the Captain.

Mission Control 28

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, blood, stalking, pregnancy and allusions to abortive measures and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The house is silent. It has been. More than usual. 

It isn't the silence that bothers you, it's the solitary. You know he's not there. You just have a sense about it. It reminds you of the place he took you before. When he left you alone. What happened when he left you alone. 

Denial. That lasted all of three seconds. There’s no denying the evidence. 

Anger. That stuck around. It’s there still. You’re angry not just about that thing he put inside you, but that he even brought you into the situation to do so. He didn’t just make this baby, he stole a life from you. It wasn’t much, but it was yours. Then he took it for himself and now it will go to the child. 

Bargaining. You try and you try to convince yourself that you’ll be okay. It’s not that bad. You can do this. Shouldn’t you want a family? 

With him? With that monster? You settled. You let yourself get comfortable. That doesn’t change what he’s done. He’s mangled you so much you can’t even recognise yourself. Not in a mirror or in your own mind. 

Depression. Nothing new. That’s always been there. Maybe even before him. It’s like the air has been sucked out of the room every time you remember and you never forget. 

Acceptance. You can’t. You can’t accept this. You are grieving more than your body, more than this pregnancy. You are grieving for yourself. How do you do that? 

So you revert. Step two. Anger. White hot anger. 

He did this and then he left you. Again. Why would he take you only to keep abandoning you? He can rip apart a man with his bare hands but he can’t face this? He might not be the man he once was, but he sure is still a man. Typical. 

You sit at the table. The tea is cold. You shouldn’t have caffeine but frankly you don’t care. It’s not just about the baby, you don’t have the energy to take care of yourself. The most effort you put in was opening a packet of crackers and you’d have one before your stomach turned. 

You leave the mug on the table with the rest. You don’t bother counting them like you don’t count the days. There’s something rancid stinking up the kitchen. You go back to bed, yourself pungent with stale sweat. 

You drag your feet into the bedroom. You stop short. He’s back. 

The Captain. Steve. Whatever he is now. He sits on the bed, a piece of paper in his hands. It’s wrinkled and a corner’s torn off. He crinkles it as he stands. He nods at you. 

You turn back, ready to march away. You hear him. It isn’t often that you do. He sneaks up on you. He grabs your arm. You spin and shove him off you. 

“How long’s it been? Weeks?” You snarl. 

He looks down and puts up two fingers. 

“Only two?” You scoff. “Wow. Great.” 

His blue eyes flick up and he frowns. He raises the page and wiggles it at you. There’s a gleam in his eyes. Desperation. 

You sigh and cross your arms. He unfolds the paper and shows you the jagged writing, words scribbled and scratched over. You bit the insides of your cheeks. You snatch it and spin away. 

Your heart is racing. Your ears ring with rage. You should crumple it up and throw it back in his face. You almost do. You stop yourself as you see your name at the top. Written ten times in a row. 

You take a breath and stop. You read with your back to him. 

‘Taken. Scared—bad people. Made bad.’  

You pause as you examine the script. The lines are jagged like he’s fighting himself with each letter. You continue. 

‘Alone. I kill. I hurt. I alone.’ 

You fidget. You’re angry. Remember. 

‘Long time. Orders in ear. No mouth. I obey. Obeyed!’ 

There’s a whole line of scribbles. 

‘I remembered. Mother. Friend. Men fighting. Hole in the ground. Guns.’  

There’s a drawing of a tank and explosions, crosshatched to one side of the page. Trees splinter and smoke plumes. 

‘Memories.’ The single word hangs below. 

‘See you. Remember more. See you and sun hot. Sky big.’ 

A squiggle stretches across the rest of the line, as if he couldn’t decide his next words. 

‘I try. I hurt. You.’ 

Exes in a clutter before the final word. 

‘Sorry’. 

You focus on that word. Your stomach is tight. You try to find your anger. 

You walk away. You go back downstairs and to the window in the front room. You look out at the melting snow, water trickling from above. 

Captain America died valorously in 1945. That’s what they taught you in school. It’s what was pasted over the commemorative copies of The Times. That wasn’t true. He’s right there with you. 

All those years, has he been like this? Broken and silent. Alone. You hang your head. It has to be the hormones. 

His footsteps approach from behind. You face him as you clutch the paper. He holds up the tablet. 

You get closer to read the page. It isn’t the dictionary he uses. It’s a business page. For a clinic. ‘Reproductive services and procedures’... Oh. 

You fold the paper and hold it out. He lowers the tablet, his brow furrowed, and he takes it. He rests it on the screen. 

“You understand. I want it gone.” You say.  

He nods. 

“You took everything from me.” You hiss, tears beading in your eyes. He nods again. “You ruined everything. My foot, my... my...” You can’t finish as your throat clogs. “I don’t want this. You know that.” 

He winces. His face slowly hardens. He slips the tablet under his arm. He signs. 

“But I need you.” 

You cross your arms and shrug. 

“The baby is gone and this never happens again,” you barter. 

His throat tightens. He signals yes. Then something else. ‘Broken. Bad.’ 

You sniff. “Yes, you are.” 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 28

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, blood, stalking, pregnancy and allusions to abortive measures and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The house is silent. It has been. More than usual. 

It isn't the silence that bothers you, it's the solitary. You know he's not there. You just have a sense about it. It reminds you of the place he took you before. When he left you alone. What happened when he left you alone. 

Denial. That lasted all of three seconds. There’s no denying the evidence. 

Anger. That stuck around. It’s there still. You’re angry not just about that thing he put inside you, but that he even brought you into the situation to do so. He didn’t just make this baby, he stole a life from you. It wasn’t much, but it was yours. Then he took it for himself and now it will go to the child. 

Bargaining. You try and you try to convince yourself that you’ll be okay. It’s not that bad. You can do this. Shouldn’t you want a family? 

With him? With that monster? You settled. You let yourself get comfortable. That doesn’t change what he’s done. He’s mangled you so much you can’t even recognise yourself. Not in a mirror or in your own mind. 

Depression. Nothing new. That’s always been there. Maybe even before him. It’s like the air has been sucked out of the room every time you remember and you never forget. 

Acceptance. You can’t. You can’t accept this. You are grieving more than your body, more than this pregnancy. You are grieving for yourself. How do you do that? 

So you revert. Step two. Anger. White hot anger. 

He did this and then he left you. Again. Why would he take you only to keep abandoning you? He can rip apart a man with his bare hands but he can’t face this? He might not be the man he once was, but he sure is still a man. Typical. 

You sit at the table. The tea is cold. You shouldn’t have caffeine but frankly you don’t care. It’s not just about the baby, you don’t have the energy to take care of yourself. The most effort you put in was opening a packet of crackers and you’d have one before your stomach turned. 

You leave the mug on the table with the rest. You don’t bother counting them like you don’t count the days. There’s something rancid stinking up the kitchen. You go back to bed, yourself pungent with stale sweat. 

You drag your feet into the bedroom. You stop short. He’s back. 

The Captain. Steve. Whatever he is now. He sits on the bed, a piece of paper in his hands. It’s wrinkled and a corner’s torn off. He crinkles it as he stands. He nods at you. 

You turn back, ready to march away. You hear him. It isn’t often that you do. He sneaks up on you. He grabs your arm. You spin and shove him off you. 

“How long’s it been? Weeks?” You snarl. 

He looks down and puts up two fingers. 

“Only two?” You scoff. “Wow. Great.” 

His blue eyes flick up and he frowns. He raises the page and wiggles it at you. There’s a gleam in his eyes. Desperation. 

You sigh and cross your arms. He unfolds the paper and shows you the jagged writing, words scribbled and scratched over. You bit the insides of your cheeks. You snatch it and spin away. 

Your heart is racing. Your ears ring with rage. You should crumple it up and throw it back in his face. You almost do. You stop yourself as you see your name at the top. Written ten times in a row. 

You take a breath and stop. You read with your back to him. 

‘Taken. Scared—bad people. Made bad.’  

You pause as you examine the script. The lines are jagged like he’s fighting himself with each letter. You continue. 

‘Alone. I kill. I hurt. I alone.’ 

You fidget. You’re angry. Remember. 

‘Long time. Orders in ear. No mouth. I obey. Obeyed!’ 

There’s a whole line of scribbles. 

‘I remembered. Mother. Friend. Men fighting. Hole in the ground. Guns.’  

There’s a drawing of a tank and explosions, crosshatched to one side of the page. Trees splinter and smoke plumes. 

‘Memories.’ The single word hangs below. 

‘See you. Remember more. See you and sun hot. Sky big.’ 

A squiggle stretches across the rest of the line, as if he couldn’t decide his next words. 

‘I try. I hurt. You.’ 

Exes in a clutter before the final word. 

‘Sorry’. 

You focus on that word. Your stomach is tight. You try to find your anger. 

You walk away. You go back downstairs and to the window in the front room. You look out at the melting snow, water trickling from above. 

Captain America died valorously in 1945. That’s what they taught you in school. It’s what was pasted over the commemorative copies of The Times. That wasn’t true. He’s right there with you. 

All those years, has he been like this? Broken and silent. Alone. You hang your head. It has to be the hormones. 

His footsteps approach from behind. You face him as you clutch the paper. He holds up the tablet. 

You get closer to read the page. It isn’t the dictionary he uses. It’s a business page. For a clinic. ‘Reproductive services and procedures’... Oh. 

You fold the paper and hold it out. He lowers the tablet, his brow furrowed, and he takes it. He rests it on the screen. 

“You understand. I want it gone.” You say.  

He nods. 

“You took everything from me.” You hiss, tears beading in your eyes. He nods again. “You ruined everything. My foot, my... my...” You can’t finish as your throat clogs. “I don’t want this. You know that.” 

He winces. His face slowly hardens. He slips the tablet under his arm. He signs. 

“But I need you.” 

You cross your arms and shrug. 

“The baby is gone and this never happens again,” you barter. 

His throat tightens. He signals yes. Then something else. ‘Broken. Bad.’ 

You sniff. “Yes, you are.” 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

That was his breakup beard. Now he's on the rebound and he's starting fresh!

Sum of All 18

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Steve doesn’t stop. Your head lolls and your hands explore his chest. You moan like a wild animal as he pumps into you. Beneath the pleasure, there’s a dull pain. You’re going to feel this for a while. 

You arch your back, pushing your heels into the floor as you latch onto his head. His hair falls forward and tickles your face as he bows to nibble your neck. He grunts and groans, biting until you squeal. 

He slips his hand beneath your back and drags it down. He scoops your ass off the floor and sinks deeper into you. You gasp. How much further can he go? 

You dig your nails into his scalp. He pinches your skin between his teeth. You puff shallowly as you push your chest up and yank at his thick hair. He sucks on your flesh until it throbs, his fingers curling under the curve of your ass. 

You slap your other hand down on the floor and drone. His thrusts are long but deliberate. He breath dampens the fabric of your dress. You writhe and push your fingertips into the floor. 

He reaches over blindly, not breaking his pace, and grabs your hand. He guides it behind him and down to his ass. Your fingers brush against his pants as his rhythm picks up. His skin is warm against your palm. The heat between you swirls through your veins and prickles up your back. 

His pelvis rubs against yours. The friction burns. You mewl and squirm as you feel bubbling just beneath the surface. 

“St-Steve--” 

He fucks you harder as you babble his name. You squeal and thrash your legs. Your toes curl and your calves strain. Oh... it’s happening again. 

You cum with a fluttery moan. You spasm and shake around him but he doesn’t relent. His incessant invasion has you weak and willow. 

He growls against the crook of your shoulder and brings his arm higher, hooking it under you. He lifts you as he raises himself to his knees. He moves you in his lap, pushing his hand in front of you to toy with your clit. You whine again. 

You hand your head back as his lips once more dance over your neck. He bounces you on him, his fingertip flicking until you’re a quivering mess. Your delight smears across his pelvis and stains the open front of his pants. 

Your eyes feel loose and your brain is speckly. You blink and heave, your chest is heavy. Oh, oh, no. As another orgasm swells in you, so does a wave of dizziness. Your body slackens at once and you hang limply in Steve’s embrace as your eyelids droop. 

You wake as if you’ve only blinked. The only things that changes is your position. You’re back on the floor. Steve’s hands are on your thighs as your legs extend up his torso. The loose tails of his shirt flap with his frantic tempo. He kneads your flesh and snarls. 

You brace the floor as his pelvis claps against your ass. He bites his lip and his eyes meet yours. He smirks and rams into you harder. 

“You’re back, sweetheart,” he rasps. 

You murmur dumbly as you tongue sticks. You lift your head, pushing yourself up on your elbows, and look down at yourself. You feel him stretching you. It’s even more intense as you watch his veiny length dip in and out. You squeak. 

“Oh, Ste--” 

The world flickers again. As you wade up from another fog, he looms over you, bending your legs to their limit as he cradles your head in his hands. He rocks into you, brushing his nose against yours as he laughs. 

“Alright, baby, I’ll let you rest...” he purrs through scratchy breaths. “Almost... almost...” he puffs and rests his forehead against yours. 

He ruts into you, slamming down so hard your ass bounces against the floor. He stretches his thumb to the corner of your mouth and shoves it inside. You bite down as his strength reverberates through your bones. 

“God--damn!” He rams into you several times before slowing. The gush squelches around him as his hips roll. He lets your legs splay around him and falls limp onto you. “You still awake?” 

“Barely,” you answer. 

He chuckles and pets your cheek. He pushes into you until you wince. You clasp onto his thick arm and he rumbles. 

“Think we understand each other now, huh?” 

You nod. You can’t speak. You understand exactly what he wants now but you’re not too sure about giving it to him. 

🌼

“Ow, ow, ow,” you waddle with your thighs apart across the bedroom. 

You woke up disoriented. Again. You’re not sure if it’s whatever’s been going on with you or that glimmer of disbelief that lingers, but you just can’t remember how you got back there. All you know, is that you have to pee. Now. 

You get to the bathroom door, cupping your cunt, skirt pushed up, and wiggle the handle. It’s locked. You don’t think, you just hammer on the wood. 

“Please, open up! I gotta--” 

The door opens from the other side. Oh shoot! This has to be a nightmare! And you really have to pee. You can’t go in bed. You have to wake up. Wake up and you can go. Wake up and there won’t be a stranger staring back at you. 

“Ahh! Who are you?” You exclaim and back up, wobbly on your feet. Wake up, wake up, wake up. 

The man tilts his head and snorts. You stare at him and slowly your mouth falls open. Staunch jaw, clean shave, freshly trimmed hair... how can it be him? 

“Steve?” You gasp. 

He laughs. “Really?” 

“I...” his voice is jarring coming out of that face. He doesn’t look that different but different enough. No beard, short hair. It’s just not right. 

“Oh, I feel weird,” you say. 

“Don’t pass out,” he warns. 

You pout. “Steve, I... I need to go.” 

“It’s a bit late--”  

“No, I mean I need to use the—the bathroom.” 

“Oh,” he steps out, his arms and chest flexing beneath his white tank top, “all yours, sweetheart.” 

“Uh, sure,” you hobble forward, hissing as your thighs brush together. 

“Figure this’ll take care of the rug burn,” he drawls. You stop short in the doorway and look back. He rubs his bare cheeks and winks. “You keep walking around like that, and people might think I’m knocking you around.” 

You frown and quickly turn away. Your cheeks are on fire but more importantly, your bladder is going to burst. You swing the door shut and race forward. You can figure out what the heck you’re going to do once you can think straight. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

"So, Bucky, did they inject the serum in your bum like steroids? Teehee?"

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

SEBASTIAN STAN as BUCKY THE WINTER SOLDIER THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER Episode 1 New World Order

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mob Drabbles

A collection of various mob AUs

Thor

Take a Seat | Take It Slow | Take Your Time

August Walker

The Vow | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Loki

A Touch of Sweetness | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Bucky Barnes

Death Wish | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

Steve Rogers

Sum of All | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18

Nick Fowler

Hush | 2 | 3

Captain Syverson

The Olde Bakery | 2

Peter Parker

Sense and Sensibility

Frank Castle

In a Place Like This | 2

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Oops. Yall get that early :)