#dark writings

[another-ralsei]

I've been having lots of fun sending out these "asks", so... Please "reblog" if you'd like one for yourself!

// If you want to ask for an ask OOC, please mark the reblog as such. I will, by default, treat this as an in-universe ask call.

[darkwritingsnshit]

Gone but not Forgotten

This is a dark psychological fuckery fic, . Please do not read if you’re under 18, or are uncomfortable with dark characters, mentions of death, descriptions of death, asshole characters. Smut will be in the last chapter.

Three years. Three years and it hurt as much now as it did then, laying a flower on the grass below their headstone. One water droplet that you hadn’t noticed escaped from the corner of your eye landing on a petal. Knowing it would trigger more, you didn’t bother to wipe the tear away, you just made your way back to your car, biting your tongue. It worked until the door closed, and a shuttering gasp ripped through your chest, painful sobs let the rest of the tears you held start to fall.

You were glad the drive back home was one you knew well, you didn’t have to think as you drove, just tried to keep your eyes clear enough to see all the road signs. It was rare for you to let yourself feel like this, it was easier to keep emotions held behind a wall you put up in your mind. Unfortunately, something about the anniversary of their death and, leaving their favorite flower where they now lay beneath the ground, had created cracks. Once you pulled into your driveway you broke down, let the hurt consume you as you leaned against the steering wheel, not trying to hold back anymore.

It could have been ten minutes; it could have been an hour you sat there and cried. Your cell phone ringing brought you back to the world, to the tears on your face. You didn’t want to answer but it was Natasha, who knew you had a hard day.

“Hello?” You had tried to compose yourself, hide the fact that you were crying but it didn’t exactly work. Your voice ended up breaking on the second syllable.

“Do you want me to come get you?” she asked through the phone, sounding concerned.

“No, no I’m fine.” You sniffled, swallowing hard.

“We don’t have to go out, we can stay in tonight,” Natasha usually didn’t baby you, but the way your voice sounded made her hesitate.

“I just need to shower, and I can meet you at the restaurant.” You assured her. You weren’t exactly sure why you felt the need to pretend you were okay, maybe it was to prove something to yourself, maybe it was to repress the hurt you were feeling. If you acted like a normal person maybe you’d feel it too.

“Do you want me to pick you up, so you don’t have to drive?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to agree, knowing that having your own car would make a quick exit easier. Sure, you’d go to dinner with her and everyone else, but you weren’t sure how long you could pretend.

“I’ll see you there at six, okay?” It was more a reassurance to yourself than Natasha, you felt like you had something to prove. That you could be okay, that you would be, that their death wasn’t going to get to you. You weren’t sure who you had to prove it to though.

You ended the call and collected your things before opening the door. There wasn’t much besides your bag, but you fumbled with your keys and dropped them in front of your doorstep.

“Fuck,” you muttered, reaching down for the keys. When you put the key in the lock, the knob turned, and the door opened. This confused you; the door had been locked when you left, hadn’t it? Even with therapy, grief was making you lose track of the little things, you were sick of it suffocating your life. Making sure to lock it behind you this time, you walked quickly to your bedroom to get ready for dinner.

“You look great, I’m so glad you could make it!” Wanda was waiting by the door to give you a hug when you arrived. You wondered if Natasha told her to wait by the door so she could get a read on your emotions that evening.

“Thanks Wanda, it’s been too long. It’s so good to see you.” The restaurant had been reserved for all of you, empty of patrons except those personally invited by Tony Stark. This unfortunately meant you knew everyone there and wouldn’t be spared the interrogation on the day everyone knew as the anniversary of your friend’s death. You didn’t want more apologies or well wishes, you wanted everyone to stop talking about them and be allowed to move on.

Sometimes you didn’t know how you were expected to remember so many people’s names. At some point other people had to have a limit too, right? There were so many people you had to pretend to know and engage in painful small talk with whose names never came to you. Thankfully Natasha kept you from too many awkward conversations, and kept you close to the people you did know.

You lasted about 90 minutes, put on a good enough show that nobody realized you didn’t want to be there. You stepped back and allowed yourself a break, spying some unoccupied couches that looked much quieter than making polite conversation. Sitting with your back to the room allowed you to take in the view from the restaurant situated on the very top floor of a skyscraper. The city was gleaming below you, lit up in its fluorescent glory. Sometimes you missed the city, but the loud, fast paced lifestyle wasn’t for you anymore, maybe when you were younger, but not anymore.

You saw movement at the corner of your eye, then felt someone sit down on the other side of the couch. Bucky turned and nodded to you, before looking at something outside the window. You didn’t mind Bucky, he didn’t talk too much or pry, he was short on words and the expected fake politeness that was often expected in human interaction. The two of you sat in silence for a while, Bucky sipped his drink and stared out the window, you enjoyed the silence and brief respite of the room behind you.

“Can’t you guys at least pretend to have some fun?” Sam sat down on the couch across from the two of you, a smile on his face. You liked Sam, he was a good friend and a good man, and he really liked to talk. A lot. Tonight was not a night you could continue to fake conversation, let alone more fun.

“I am having fun.” Bucky said in a monotone and looked at Sam without the hint of a smile.

“You’re sitting in the back of the room, in silence.” Sam pointed out.

“I pretended to have fun for an hour and a half, I’m wiped out. I’m sorry Sam.” You closed your eyes and leaned your head back. You didn’t want to chat; you needed a break.

“Promise not to leave without saying goodbye?” He asked you, recognizing a lost cause when he saw one.

“I’ll say goodbye before I head home.” You acquiesced, dreading the round of goodbyes you’d have to make so as not to be rude.

You watched Sam leave, before going back to watching the city.

“You good?” Bucky’s voice from the other side of the couch surprised you, it was unlike him to ask a question like that.

“Yeah.” You lied, turning your head to look at him. There was a small crease between his eyebrows, but his face didn’t give anything else away.

Bucky nodded and made a humming noise, then looked out the window again. That was the kind of concern you appreciated, instead of a long conversation with someone about things you didn’t want to talk about. You turned back to the window and enjoyed comfortable silence together.

You made it until about nine o clock, it had been torturous to wait for an acceptable time to leave. You dreaded knowing that there were so many people you had to stop and say goodbye to. Deciding to start your goodbyes off on an easy note, you turned to Bucky.

“Goodnight, have a nice night.” Was all you needed to say, no complaints, that you wouldn’t stay longer from him.

“You too.” Bucky nodded his head in your direction, and that was it.

The rest of the goodbyes were irritating and drawn out, everyone wanted to talk to you for five more minutes, to tell you one more story, to get you one more drink. It took too long to get through everyone but finally you made it to the elevator. You stepped in and pushed the parking garage button, but Steve’s hand stopped the doors from closing. Sam needed to go to his car too, and Steve decided to go down with him. Somehow you got through the longest elevator ride of your life with two of the happiest chattiest men on the planet. You felt bad about being annoyed by their happiness and laughter, they were having a good night, usually you could appreciate other people’s joy. But after the day and evening you had, you just wanted to go home. You waved goodbye to them and got in your car, ready to get home and sink into your bed.

Yawning as you pulled into your driveway, you parked and retrieved your belongings. Walking up the steps to your front door, you saw something glinting in the porchlight. It looked like there was something on your doorknob. Moving closer, you reached down to see what it was. When you looked under the light, you realized it was your friend’s silver necklace, the one they were buried in. When you tried the door, it was unlocked.

[thepiningpoet]

f. o. l. d.

Within this cage of skin and marrow, we lie ensnared within ourselves. For what has the depths to cradle a soul as ours and not render us rudimentary in the face of our complexity?

Through this façade of sturdiness, we fall flat as paper, and with an ill-advised word, a careless action, we fold, and burn just as easily.

- k. a. h.

[andthestars-shallfall]

I suffered the greatest longing to speak the truth - and by God: it was a bad idea.

Fallega Roudka

[another-ralsei]

Greetings, people of Tumblr! I'm Ralsei, the prince of Castle Town!

As this blog's name suggests, I'm already aware of the many worlds the Internet connects. I'm not the first of me to make my way onto here, but I hope I can leave a good impression! ^^

EQUIPMENT:

Weapon: DaintyScarf (assimilated into RedScarf, no affect on appearance) "Delicate scarf that increases healing power but has no attack." Armour: BellRibbon (light pink ribbon with a bell, worn on neck) "A gift from Mew Mew. Passively generates TP while standing still."

(OOC under cut!)

Hiii, it's Melmy from the discord :3 I'll be running this more like an in-universe Tumblr blog, but that's just because it's what I'm used to.

This Ralsei's in a post-Chapter 4 AU, which exactly follows on-screen events but increases the time between chapters and contextualizes a few lore details. Ralsei doesn't know any of what's different, though, so effectively nothing's changed.

Source of Ralsei's PFP

#dark writings - Posts

#dark mailbox - Received asks

#dark connection - Reblogs to sent asks

#dark echoes - Non-ask reblogs

#dark gifts - Modifier tag, received items

#coloured consort - Modifier tag, asks answered by Swatchlings

[darkwritingsnshit]

Ancient History 8/Final

Warnings: This is going to be a dark fic. Please do not read if you’re under 18, or are uncomfortable with dark characters, noncon, kidnapping, alchol mention, drug mention, death threats, asshole characters.

The hum of the jet made it easy to doze, slipping in and out of consciousness was easier than facing the situation head on. Blinking when the jet touched down, you saw Bucky hadn’t brought you back to the tower, you recognized it as the larger compound Tony had renovated for his team years prior. You let Bucky pull you along behind him, stumbling and blinking in the daylight.

You didn’t know the layout of the compound, had only given it a walkthrough once with Natasha. Bucky pulled you down hallways you didn’t recognize, around bends and up some stairs. Coming to a stop before a door, Bucky leaned down to kiss you, pulling you in seconds later. You heard the door being locked behind you, then fingers plucking at your wrist to free you from the handcuffs you had nearly forgotten about.

“You’re home, you’re safe.” Bucky wrapped his hands around your waist, pulled your back to his chest, leaning in close to your ear, letting you survey the room.

Naturally it was gorgeous, a huge room with a sitting area, a place to eat and mix drinks, a fireplace in the corner by the bed and a wall of large sliding glass doors; they opened to a beautifully kept lawn and garden area, surrounded by a lush forest. Everything in the room was pale blue and white, couches and chairs matched the bedspread, pillows, and dust ruffle. The whole thing was so pretty you knew Bucky had nothing to do with the design.

“What is this place?” You finally wondered aloud, breaking your silence from the jet.

“It’s our home, your home for a while.” Bucky turned you in his arms, face far too close for your liking.

“My home?” Did he mean to have you live here at the compound?

“Yes, your home. It’s perfect for you here,” gesturing at the room with an arm. “Once you get settled in, we can talk about moving someplace else, just the two of us.”

Stepping away from him you pulled your hand loose and wrapped it around yourself.

“You want me to live in the Avengers compound with you? Are you nuts?” Glancing around you could see several exit points, already thinking of how easy it would be to sneak out.

“Actually,” Bucky looked stern, “you’re going to have to stay in this room until I know you’re not a flight risk.” Locking eyes, he gave you the slightest smirk and it was hard to keep from hitting him. Bucky quickly held his hands up.

“You’re free to go outside too! Look you have your own lawn and garden; it really is beautiful out here.” Rolling his eyes at the look on your face, Bucky once again looked amused. “Stark’s security system is smarter than you are doll, I actually think it might be entertaining to watch you try to run away, that is if you’re down for a chase.”

Eyes flashing you crossed your arms. He always made you angry, smugness and cockiness radiated off him. He knew he was stronger, faster, more brutal, he always had been, and you were sure he enjoyed it.

“You need to eat,” Bucky’s tone suddenly became stern, he turned and looked you up and down.

You knew you were a mess; Bucky had dragged you through the snow, brutally fucked you multiple times and brought you thousands of miles over the course of the last ten hours.

“I need a shower,” arms still crossed, not moving.

Bucky nodded his head and gestured for you to follow him. Opening a door at the far end of the room, a lovely bathroom, clearly built for two, was a sight for your weary eyes. Bucky pulled out towels as you followed him. You were not surprised to find your favorite soap, shampoo, and conditioner already in the shower, pink razor sitting next to them. You were surprised to see Bucky place clothes for you on the bathroom counter, a thin tank top and soft pajama pants.

“I’m going to get us some food, okay?” Bucky put his hands on your shoulders and kissed your forehead before closing the door to leave you in private.

Immediately you jumped up to check the vents, but they were bolted in place, the window not giving even a little as you tried to slide it open. It was too small for you to fit through anyway but worth a try. Once you decided there wasn’t a way out of the bathroom you began to strip, cranking the water to hot, standing below the spray trying to clean away the previous night. Try as you might, the black and purple bruises wouldn’t let you forget.

Warmed up and clean, you pulled on clothes, hung the towels, and turned the knob on the door only to find it locked. Frustrated, you banged on the door with your fist, wondering if it was too thick to kick down.

With a scratch and a click, Bucky opened the door from the other side with a smile at your wet hair and clean clothes.

“Sorry,” he said, “can’t be too careful with an escape artist in here.” Pulling by the wrists, he brought you to the table where there were two plates of food. “I know it’s been too long since you’ve eaten,” he reminded you, pulling out the chair for you.

Sunlight slanted across the room, blue sky peeking through the swaying branches of the trees. The way it hit Bucky’s face almost made him look beautiful. It almost made you see who he really was; a broken doll holding onto dead promises. Maybe you two were the same.

“You need to eat.” His voice breaking the silence ended the moment of peace. He stared at the food you were picking at.

“I don’t have much of an appetite,” you mumbled, pushing your fork around.

“Eat it. All of it.” Bucky’s tone made you look up at him, it was commanding, didn’t leave any room for argument. It was an order. He crossed his arms and stared at you until you began to eat at a pace he approved of. You heard him hum in approval.

“And what if I don’t?” You put your fork down, the numbness had begun to wear off after the shower.

“What did you say?” His tone was still icy, darker than it had been.

“I asked you,” you cleared your throat, “what if I don’t? What if I fucking don’t do what you want, asshole?” There was fire in your chest, you weren’t the same girl from Hydra years before.

Undeterred, there was amusement and malice in Bucky’s eyes.

“Sweetheart, you know exactly what I’ll do to you. Don’t encourage me.” He laughed lightly into his napkin, enraging you more.

Jumping to your feet had you yelling.

“You’re an Avenger, aren’t you? You’re supposed to be the good guys now, what the hell do you think your friends are going to say when they come visit?”

“Sit down.” Bucky’s tone was calm but deadly. “I’m only going to repeat myself once doll, sit down.” The look on his face had you in your seat in a second.

“Steve knows about our history, at least parts of it,” Bucky continued, “as does Sam, and even Nick Fury. I’m not going to say that they fully understand the nuances of our personal relationship but they hardly object to you staying here with me for a while. In fact, Steve and Tony helped me provide this home for you. I don’t think we’re going to have those kinds of problems doll.”

“So, this is it?” You couldn’t believe for a second that anyone approved of what he was doing. “I’m here so you can fuck me until I give you a baby?” Tears you hadn’t noticed now dripped off your chin, voice shaking in anger.

“No sweetheart, of course not.” Bucky looked so concerned, his hand covered yours on the table, not letting you pull away. “You’re here so we can have a second chance. A second chance at our family, at us.”

“Us? Bucky you’re brainwashed. Hydra fucking brainwashed you to make you think all of this, you can shake it off! This isn’t real!” Bucky squeezed your hand so hard it hurt, a cry escaping your lips.

“This is real,” Bucky wouldn’t let go of your hand. “You are real, I am real, we are real, we’re here, and we’re together. You can’t tell me that doesn’t mean something.” His eyes were hypnotizing, it was hard to look away.

“All that means is that I never really escaped.” It was a defeated sigh, closing your eyes and admitting you had lost, took everything you had left.

You let Bucky take your plate away, cleared of food under his watchful eye. You had never really escaped. The thought weighed heavy on your brain. How long had you deluded yourself? How many years had passed thinking you were free of Hydra and their schemes, when in the end their sadistic tortures had become your destiny?

“Hey, you in there?” Bucky waved his hand in front of you. “Come to bed.” He took your hand and pulled you to your feet, walking you back towards the bed. “You’re not going to make me handcuff you this time, are you?” There was a smile in his voice, but you weren’t looking. You felt a finger under your chin, lifting it to look in Bucky’s eyes, not fighting anything anymore. His smile faded when he saw your tears, pressed a soft kiss to your salty lips, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Let me make you feel better, okay?” His voice was soft, another sweet kiss placed on your lips. This was different, it was new. Who was this softer side of such a violent man? Bucky lifted you up onto the bed, hands never leaving your hips, laying you down against the pillows.

Almost lazily he kissed you, soft and slow, hands gently roaming your body. It wasn’t until he began to leave wetkisses down your neck that you remembered who he was. Tensing immediately, Bucky came back to your lips, hands running down your body to soothe you. Try as you might, it wasn’t possible to relax when Bucky peeled your tank top off, your breathing becoming shallow.

“Just let me take care of you.” Bucky kissed into the skin on your stomach, pulling down the soft pajama pants you had put on an hour earlier.

Leaving wet kisses along your thighs, Bucky buried his head between your legs making you gasp and pull at his hair. Tongue circling your clit, he had you bucking your hips and moaning, your body tingling. Not letting up, Bucky continued to lap you up, sliding a finger into your cunt, making you gasp and moan at once. Eyes rolling back, you tried to shake this off, it wasn’t supposed to feel good, you weren’t supposed to enjoy this. But the things Bucky was doing to your body had those thoughts running out of your head as soon as they entered.

Kissing his way back up your body, Bucky grabbed your hair and pulled you into a sloppy kiss.

“I told you I can make you feel good.” He was panting in your ear. You wanted to shake your head, tell him no but when his cock bottomed out in your pussy the noise you made was hardly a disagreement.

He knew how to fuck you, how to make you scream, to cry out, to make you beg for more. It was humiliating, you wished he didn’t know your body so well. Truthfully it was amazing. Every inch of you on fire, the orgasms he brought you to were unmatched, time was a blur, everything felt good. Even the feeling of Bucky cumming deep inside you felt good, it felt right. Even though it shouldn’t.

Still sweaty and wrapped up in each other, Bucky held you close, not about to let you go anywhere.

“I told you princess.” He breathed in your ear, “We were made for each other.”

________

“She’s so beautiful,” you had never seen him look so happy, “she’s the most precious thing in the world.” There were tears shining in his eyes, his show of emotion almost scared you.

Your daughter was clasped so securely, so tenderly in Bucky’s arms. You didn’t even know he was capable of such tender, gentle touches. You were so scared he would bruise her, hurt her with his rough hands, but he touched her in a way you had never seen, never experienced. How could he ever be so gentle? All he did was leave you littered in bruises at each touch, your heart at rest once you saw how gently he held her, how sweet he was, how fragile he treated her.

“Are you okay?” Steve’s hand was on your shoulder, watching you carefully.

“Yeah,” you said, tilting your head at Bucky and your daughter, “yeah, I think we’re going to be just fine.”

@emberenchanted

[darkwritingsnshit]

Gone but not Forgotten 8/Final

This is a dark psychological fuckery fic. Please do not read if you’re under 18, or are uncomfortable with noncon, smut, dark characters, mentions of death, descriptions of death, asshole characters.

For the first time in months, you slept through the night, not even the sun lighting up the blinds was enough to pull you from sleep. It was the smell of breakfast that stirred you, confused at first when you woke up in an unfamiliar bed. Stretching, you realized Bucky was no longer on the floor, and if you listened closely, you could hear music on the radio. You smiled, finally feeling some kind of safe. You put your feet on the floor and walked out to the living room. Bucky greeted you with a cup of coffee and a good morning, leaving you to wake up slowly on the loveseat.

            “Any plans for today?” You asked Bucky after finishing your coffee, awake enough to have a conversation.

            “I was going to get some groceries, you’re welcome to stay the weekend but we’re going to need some food if you want to.” Bucky sat on the chair opposite you.

            “I can go shopping, are you sure it’s ok if I stay for the weekend? I don’t want to monopolize your space.” You were unbelievably grateful to have a place that soothed you, but you knew you couldn’t stay there forever.

            “I have to get some work done downtown today anyway, there’s no need to make two trips.” He waved off your worry. “Why don’t you stay here for the weekend, and we can see how you’re feeling then?”

            He wasn’t pushing you; he was giving you a choice. He wasn’t telling you to talk to him, forcing you to go to therapy, making you get up and get out of the safe place he provided, he was just letting you exist without stress. Perhaps there were benefits to being friends with a traumatized, disabled war veteran. A real smile settled on your face, a look Bucky hadn’t seen on you in a long time.

            “That would be kind of perfect.” Your voice broke on the last word, the stress that had been eating at you making itself known.

            “Want some breakfast?” Bucky stood with the question, going to start some eggs and toast when you nodded. He turned up the radio when he went into the kitchen, you grabbed the book you started the night before and settled into the loveseat.

            After the two of you finished breakfast, you went to do the dishes and Bucky got ready to leave.

            “If you need anything while I’m out, just give me a call or send me a text, I can usually make those work.” Bucky had one hand on the door, the other on his bag.

            “Thank you.” You told him, thanking him for far more than just a place to stay. His face softened, understanding flashing across it.

            “I’ll be back this afternoon,” Bucky said, “try to give yourself a break.”

            You nodded and watched him walk to his car.

            For the first time in months, you had a place to stay that you felt safe, you were going to take full advantage of it. You cleaned up the breakfast mess and continued around the house, you swept the floors and tidied the bookcases. There wasn’t a lot to busy yourself with, so you ventured outside. Breathing in the morning air made you realize you’d been living in the city too long. There was no smell of cars or asphalt, no honking horns from down the block, you didn’t hear a group of drunk teenagers yelling at each other, or half of a phone conversation someone was having too loud in a public space. You felt soft grass beneath your feet, saw trees that made a forest buffer from the road, heard the rushing of a river somewhere close by. You spent your morning this way, enjoying the sunshine, the nature that couldn’t seem to be present in the busy city. Birds hopped branch to branch, squirrels chirped at each other in warning. When the sun was high and you felt your stomach start to rumble you went back inside, finding some basics in the fridge to make a passable lunch.

            You made some lunch and a mug of tea, feeling sure of yourself for the first time in a while. You made sure the house looked nice for Bucky, you felt bad stealing his space, but eternally grateful. In the bedroom you realized that Bucky left a mess of blankets on the floor by the bed. Wanting to help, you took the sheets he used and found a stack washer/dryer in a closet off the bathroom. It didn't take long to see the linen closet in the bedroom, but the dresser was pushed up against it.

“Dammit.” It took a few tries and a smashed thumb, but you were able to pull the dresser away from the door behind it, to get Bucky some clean sheets. The dresser was heavy and awkward, but it was the only place it would fit in the bedroom, so you couldn’t give Bucky too much of a hard time, for putting it in front of the only linen closet the cabin had. The feet of the dresser groaned against the floor when you slid it out of the way enough to open the closet and get fresh sheets and towels.

Happy you hadn’t been beaten by an inanimate piece of wood, you pulled the closet open in triumph. Instead of enjoying a small victory, you stepped back and covered your mouth in shock. The small closet was filled with items that belonged to your dead friend.

There were three shelves, not very deep and not very wide, each shelf could have kept a set of sheets and three towels, but instead there were items you thought had been lost. You touched a box that was filled with pictures, some you recognized, some you were in, some showed only your friend. The back wall was lined with their old books, some personal, you saw a biology textbook they had to purchase for a college class they took once. Another box held random small items, their keys, their old phone which had never been found, their driver’s license, and a few letters from various people. What confused you most, was a manila folder that contained three passports, all with different names, but the same photo of your friend. Why would they have more than one passport? Your thoughts were cut short when you heard his voice.

“Hello?” Between the shock and the tears, you hadn’t heard the door open. Your hands started shaking, you dropped the passport you were holding. You looked around frantically, but there wasn’t anywhere you could go. You heard his steps, then the door to the bedroom opened wider.

“Shit. I should have told you not to go looking around.” Bucky’s voice was closer, it was almost angry, but you couldn’t look at him.

“What is all this?” You could hardly hear the words you spoke, this felt like a bad dream.

You heard Bucky let out a sigh.

“That’s something I didn’t want you to find.” You finally looked up at him, he was sitting on the bed staring at you.

You felt frozen, looking to where the passport fell to the floor for half a second before deciding to run. It was a stupid decision, he was faster and stronger, you didn’t make it a step before he blocked your exit.

“I was worried you’d react like this, it’s why I didn’t tell you.” Bucky’s arm around your waist pushed you back into the room. You sat down on your bed, hard, staring at him, waiting for something.

“You didn’t tell me what?” You whispered out, too many thoughts, too loud racing though your head. Bucky sighed again, ran his hand through his hair while trying to put the right words together.

            “I didn’t want to have to tell you that I killed your friend.” Bucky wouldn’t look at you.

            You were ready for some combination of those words, but it hurt more than you could imagine. You trusted him, you saw him multiple times a week, he had been there to help comfort you all those years ago, had offered his shoulder to cry on. Of the people you knew, he was one of the few to gain your trust, your kindness, even some of your respect. You had been played for a long time. That was what hurt the most.

            “Why?” There were a thousand things racing through your mind, one word was all you could manage to verbalize. Bucky still stood squarely in front of the door.

“They weren’t who they said they were.” He acted like his words should make you feel better, like they should make you feel something other than betrayal, pain, anger and hurt.

“They cared about me.” That was all that mattered to you, they grew up with you, loved you, they were family to you. You wracked your brain for clues that would explain what Bucky was talking about.

“You’re not dumb, what do you really think they were doing all those years ago? Why is it there are three passports in that manila folder you were holding? Why do you think one of the passports is Russian?” Bucky closed in on where you were sitting, the small room felt even more cramped.

You didn’t want to let his words get to you, to sully your memories of them. Even so, you thought back to your last interaction, the last things you said to each other. They had to go overseas, said it was work for SHIELD, that they’d be back in a week. That’s why it was so surprising to find their body only an hour from their house, when they weren’t even supposed to be in the country.

“You killed them.” Of course it was Bucky, he knew what he was doing. That was why you hadn’t found any evidence, no fingerprints, footprints, DNA or anything else to link him to their death. He was a professional, he was a ghost.

“They were going to hurt you, they were going to hurt everyone.” Bucky’s voice got lower, quieter, more intimidating. You didn’t like how he looked down at you, you felt small under his unrelenting stare.

“They never hurt me.” Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, you couldn’t hear what he was saying, you wouldn’t.

“Is that a price you’re willing to pay?” Bucky’s fingers brushed your cheeks. “You’re willing to let everyone you love get hurt, just because they weren’t going to hurt you? Is that worth it?” He knew your answer, knew you would agree with him. That didn’t make it hurt less.

“So, you just…” it was hard to speak, “… you just murdered them in cold blood.” It wasn’t a question anymore.

“Hardly the first time.” He drew closer to where you sat, the space between you even smaller.

“You’re a monster.” You met his eyes, you saw him for what he was, saw the man he insisted was long gone. But he hadn’t really gone anywhere.

            “Sweetheart you have no idea.” You weren’t expecting Bucky’s lips to find your own, or his body weight on top of yours, making you sprawl across the bed on your back. You let out a yelp around his lips, hands pushing at his shoulders to free yourself from his limbs. Your feet hit the floor, and you tried to run, but he was stronger, as always.

            “Let go!” You tried to kick, hit, flail your limbs to give you any advantage but you found none.

            “And where exactly do you think you’re going?” The snarl in his voice scared you, he never spoke to you so harshly before. Fresh tears began to slip from the corners of your eyes, fear and rage fighting for control.

            “To tell everyone you’re a fucking murderer.” You shrieked, the sound of your voice dying when he wrapped his arm around your throat.

            “And what makes you think they don’t already know?” His words were ice in your heart, of course they knew, how couldn’t they? The realization made you freeze, made the world stop turning, your thoughts come crashing down around you. Of course they knew. And they had all been lying to you for years. For a few minutes you couldn’t move, could hardly feel him touching you, some kind of trance was keeping you from controlling your body. You couldn’t speak, so he continued.

            “My pardon included a lot of stuff, a lot of deaths. They’re all in the past now.” In the past. His words brought you back to reality in an unpleasant way. Suddenly you felt everything, his hands on your skin, voice in your ear, it was too much. You lashed out, trying anything to free yourself from his grasp, but he just held you down tighter.

            “Then let the past die, Bucky.” The tears were flowing freely now, you didn’t try to contain them. “Let me go.”

            “The past can die, it’s gone. But this is the present, and you’re here with me now.” Bucky brought his leg between your thighs, you felt him run his hands up your body.

            “Why?” You choked out, wanting to burn his hands for touching you. The sick cold feeling they brought to your skin was overwhelming.

            “Because you’re so fun to play with.” A wicked grin filled your vision, you tried to hit him, but he was already holding your hands over your head.

            “Stop!” The only thing you had left was your voice, the rest of your body was firmly under his control.

“You know if you let me, I could give you anything you want in the whole world. You don’t have be miserable for the rest of your life.” Bucky acted like he was someone with all the answers, someone who cared about you, would make sure you were happy.

“I want my best friend back, asshole.” Tears ran faster, your voice broke. Bucky just sighed and shook his head.

“I wish you wouldn’t insist on the impossible.” He lowered his head to kiss your neck, giving you a bite when you wouldn’t stop trying to get away. You cried out, still trying to pry him off you, wishing your attempts would do more than slightly annoy him. But who were you to him? No more than a fly buzzing around his head that he could swiftly capture and crush. It felt like your heart was being crushed right now.

“Stop, please.” Your voice was shaky, quieter than you wanted. Bucky just hummed at you. You tried to stop him when he pulled your shirt off, his hands overpowering your own when you tried to hide your body from him. It wasn’t hard to do away with your pants, he broke the button and ripped them away from your legs.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to have you in my arms, doll?” Bucky’s voice seemed to come from all around you, it was all you could hear. Even with your eyes closed you felt sick.

“Is this really what you wanted?” Your eyes were red from crying, your voice strangled. Though it was useless, you were pushing against him, struggling for an ounce of control he wouldn’t give you. You knew you looked scared, confused, angry, tired. You felt like this day lasted a thousand years. Bucky looked down from where he was situated on top of you, ran his finger over the veins in your wrist.

“Not exactly like this, but I’ll take what I can get.” You were too focused on what he was saying and how to plead your way out of the situation to notice he had shed his own pants.

Your scream mixed with his groan as he pushed inside of you. You weren’t ready for his intrusion, your scream turned into a strangled gasp when he gripped your hips and pulled them against his own. You choked on a sob while Bucky lost himself in you. Finally, he could take you all in, finally you were beneath his fingertips. You felt better than he imagined, though he hadn’t been imagining your pleas for him to stop, or your hands trying to push him away, but they were easy enough to ignore.

Your mind whirled, it felt like you were looking at yourself from across the room. You saw Bucky’s hands on you, felt him inside of you, but it couldn’t be real. The sounds of your cries became drowned out by Bucky’s noises of pleasure, your resistance loosened as your mind slipped farther away from your body. You couldn’t control anything anymore.

Bucky freed himself from his shirt, his chest brushed yours when he whispered nasty things in your ears. You couldn’t hear him, your ears buzzed with static and fear, too aware that this monster inside you had killed your friend, had been the last thing they saw. You couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped your lips when Bucky put your nipple in his mouth, a smirk on his face when he leaned back. He was winning and he knew it.

You didn’t expect Bucky to lower his face between your legs, but his arms around your legs kept you from going anywhere. You tried so hard not to give in when his tongue connected with your clit, but each movement had you slipping farther from whatever reality you existed in. His grin was painfully smug when he emerged, happy once he was able to make you see stars and emit a whorish moan. You hated every all of it. It only took him a second to guide himself back inside you, another gasp escaping your lips.

“This is what I wanted.” Bucky fixed his eyes on yours and tipped his hips until yours rolled back and you made another sinful moan.

“No…” you choked, the pleasure he was giving you cut the rest of your words off. Bucky was unrelenting, his movements pushed you into the mattress, so you had no choice but to take what he gave you. You wanted to turn around so you couldn’t see him, it was torture enough that this was making you feel good, you didn’t want him to watch your face come apart too.

“Stop pretending you hate this.” Bucky’s voice whispered over the shell of your ear, he grazed his teeth over it when he made you moan.

“You can’t… fuck…” your sentence was interrupted when his hand met your clit and pushed you over the edge of your orgasm. Your body arched and he kept going, undeterred by your attempts to push him off.

“I knew you loved this… fuck I knew it.” Bucky’s hand found the back of your head and pulled you close for a crushing kiss. You felt him twitch inside you, felt his cum flood you before he stopped.

You could do nothing but lie there and shake, your mind and body still separated from each other. You just waited, waited for what he would do to you now that you knew, every worst-case scenario running through your head. You didn’t expect him to kiss you, that hadn’t been in any of the scenarios you pictured, your breath cut short by his lips.

“I can’t believe I let this much time pass.” Bucky looked down on you beneath him, but not with anger, with some mix of pity and regret. You were still finding your breath, but your tears made it hard. You were trembling, tears slipping through the corners of your eyes, running down to wet the pillow.

“Are you going to kill me?” You didn’t know if he would hear it, but whatever made him so fast and strong enhanced his hearing too. He let out a soft laugh, his fingers traced your cheekbones.

“No, I’m not going to kill you.” He reassured you, before finally moving so you weren’t trapped beneath him. He tilted his head to look at you as if you’d gone crazy. “Why would I kill you when I finally have you exactly where I want you?”