#clair writes

It was early when you woke. Eyes opening heavily, focused on the window. You sensed the emptiness beside you, but fear still struck, soaring through your veins. You rolled onto your back, head slowly turning to find Bucky gone from beside you. But you knew he was just there mere minutes ago, his perfume lingering on the sheets, swirling in the air. 

You dressed yourself, washed your face and walked out of the room. The dining room looked like a distant nightmare to you, but this time the chairs were empty; except for one: Bucky’s. He sat with his arm resting on the table, shovelling food into his mouth. The floor beneath you creaked as you stepped further into the room, a betrayal from the house with love. Bucky’s head rose, gaze roaming over your body.

You sat opposite him, afraid to move too fast. Bucky’s eyes met yours briefly before travelling down your arm to your hand laying atop the wood. A smile creeping onto his face at the sight of the diamond adorning your finger. His proud prize, his bride to be.

You ate in silence with the eyes of Bucky following your every move, the plate clearing of food painfully slow. Once you finished, you rose from your seat trying to find the words but as your eyes met his, every single word you’ve ever known escaped, fled from your head. Bucky’s eyebrows raised at your silence, arms resting beside the plate. “Everything alright, darling?” He asked curiously, but you caught the sarcasm.

You nodded, opening your mouth. “I’m going into work today.” Your mouth tasted like cardboard. “Darling.”

Bucky’s eyes lit up, a flash of silver in his iris. “Good for you. It’s important to be busy. You might want to look for someone to take over the cafe though. Better start looking now before it’s too late.”

Your breath caught itself in your throat. “Why?” You squeaked out.

“Because once we have children you won’t be able to take care of a business. I need you here full time. Take care of my offspring and the house, then it will be your responsibility.” 

The thought alone frightened you. This house wasn’t a home, its wasn’t a place for children to grow up and you knew that no one should grow up having Bucky as a father. A man so wicked and demonic it was impossible to imagine him running around town with a baby in his arms. The possibility of him killing the child was too high and him strangling you in your sleep was way too possible.

You started to see the cafe with your mother’s eyes. The first glance, shiny and cute, fading with every blink. The paint chipping at the corners, chairs crooked and the smell of your mothers dead body in the back slowly making it’s way through the vents. 

You got everything ready for opening, but your mind was anxious about Mrs Wilson’s arrival, eyes jumping to the door in hopes to see her walking up the stairs, but she wasn’t there. Hours and hours went by and no sight of her. The possibility of an escape became slippy, flowing through your dry hands. 

You stared out of the window, lips parted and chapped. Your breath the only prove that you’re alive, the rising and falling of your chest, shaky but there. The beating of your heart confirming the life inside you, but the rest of your body was still, limb. Outside the sun was shining, rays of sunlight flowing through the trees, passing branches on the way down to the ground. 

The sound of the clock brought you back to life. Time. You looked over at it, hope further slipping between your fingers. It was time to clean up. Like you were in trance you started your routine but movement from the corner of your right eye surprised you. 

And there she was. Mrs Wilson climbed the stairs to the door and as the bell rang she stepped inside dressed in blue. Her eyes met yours and her face lit up. “Y/n, good to see you.” She stood in front of you. “Sorry for being so late I was held up by Stephen at the post office he- are you alright?”

You shook your head slightly to focus. Her eyes staring into yours with worry. “I- yes I’m fine. Just worried you wouldn’t come that’s it.”

“You look sick.”

You wiped your forehead, the back of your hand coating in sweat. “I just want to know that your plan is going to work.”

Mrs Wilson reached over the counter to place her hand on your shoulder. “Sadly I can’t promise anything, but it’s worth a try. The plan is safe as long as it stays between us.” Her lips curled to a reassuring smile but worry still found it’s way into your blood, flowing through my arms and down my legs. “So you agree to it? You’ll be there?”

You simply nodded your head. 

“Alright. On Saturday you are going to work just like you did today, at one fourty-five you’ll leave but make sure you keep everything as it is. That means lights on, food still on display. You have to take Elsberg street instead of Köpenick street, it’s that weirs smelling ally to the right.You’ll come out to the back of Magnolia Flowers and that’s where he’ll meet you.”

“Does he know that I’m escaping?”

“No, he just thinks he’s giving you a ride to the city to visit family. Once you’re in the city though, my friend Ally will take you in, she owns a pet store in the east and will take you there.”

You swallow thickly. This plan required you to leave not only Dawn, but also move to the other side of the country. 

You started cleaning up as soon as Mrs Wilson left and a sense of hope lit within you, a light sparking in you heart. You turned off the lights  in the back and heard the bell chimed gain thinking it was Mrs Wilson gain you walked to the front, but instead of her it was Bucky standing in the middle of the cafe. 

He stood there with flowers in his hands and as you approached him you thought the light within you would die, but it didn’t. It kept on burning.

“Come one, darling.” Bucky handed you the flowers and gestured for you to leave. While you walked towards his bike, Bucky’s demeanour frightened you. What if he heard you and Mrs Wilson talk? As if the walls turned to linnen, thin enough to hear the words of betrayal in his ears. 

Your couldn’t read his face as you sat behind him on his bike, flowers in one hand and the other holding on to his body for dear life. The houses passed you with speed, wind blowing beneath the helmet and all seemed so easy. You had no idea where Bucky was going but you didn’t care about that either. Tomorrow was coming and with the sun lowering behind Dawn you were reassured it was. 

The calm of knowing that you will be gone from here. 

Bucky came to a stop and you looked at the destination ahead of you. A small bar with motorcycles standing all around it. The neon sign flickering with every letter. With the flowers in hand you walked behind Bucky into the gloomy atmosphere, a change of scenery from the dull environment you were usually in. A place foreign to you. 

Bucky led you through the room to a table full of familiar faces. You didn’t know their names nor did you need to. A quick glance from everyone and you sat down, laying the flowers atop the table.

Bucky ordered round after round, encouraging you to take a drink as well, but you knew you needed a good nights sleep for tomorrow. So Bucky and the other Howling Commandos kept their stomachs full of beer and the air full of words. You sat quietly, observing the people around you until someone mentioned your name.

“Are those flowers from Magnolia? Bucky you’re a gentlemen.” Your head turned to the flowers on the table and it was true. They are from Magnolia flowers. Lana. She worked there. 

“Yes, they are.” Bucky’s arm swung around your shoulders. “Best flower shop in town.”

Your chest tightened at the mention. You looked at Bucky and his smirk stopped the blood flowing through your veins. It was intentional. It has to be. Satanic. That’s the only word you could describe his intention. Bucky’s lack of sympathy and the maniacal actions he had shown you over the moths you’ve known him were driving you to near insanity. He was mad.

You looked back at the flowers, staring at their petals of red and yellow. “I want to go.” You murmured.

“What was that?” Bucky asked.

“Can we please go?” Your gaze met his and Bucky travelled your face, a smirk forming on his lips. 

“Sure, darling.” Bucky said and rose from his seat. You took the flowers from the table and took one last look at the group, hoping that this would be the last picture of them in your mind. 

As you made it to the house Bucky walked ahead of you, up the stairs to his room. You found it strange since he never goes to bed with you at the same time. You entered the room, placing the flowers on the table and heading straight to the bathroom to get ready for bed, but Bucky’s hand stopped you. 

He turned you around with one swift move, the look in his eyes making the blood shoot straight to your head. 

“Get on your knees.”

If the sun don't shine on me today And if the subways flood and bridges break Will you lay yourself down and dig your grave Or will you rail against your dying day

[ next ]

There wasn’t a funeral, no respect for the traitor who was falsely accused of compliance. You heard her fathers scream through the town, echoing along the streets, pulsating in your ears. The grief of a father who’s daughter was taken by the biest in the darkness. They stripped her body of clothes, showing the bruising along her thighs, neck and arms. They hung Lana on the church, head hanging from her neck. High enough to be seen from the windows three streets away. Lana’s body served as a warning.

Your head was empty as they had you watch as they hung her body, a smile of victory on Bucky’s face. The day after that dragged you through a nightmare of memories flashing through your eyes. But between those, possibilities of what could have been, Lana’s life without the painted poison. A life full of light and colour. A life where you do not exist. 

It was foolish, you were foolish to step into the spotlight of Bucky’s eyes. It was your fault. If you just had sat and shut your mouth, maybe she would still be alive. 

You sat at the wall, cowering in your own self pity. It became clearer by the minute that you had lost long ago. You lost against Bucky the second he came into your cafe. 

The door to your right opened and Steve walked in, after him Sam and Bucky. They looked around until Steve’s eyes fell on you. It was unclear what you saw in his blues, but its wasn’t pity. You were sure he could smell you from there, all of them could. The neglect of a shower could be seen on your skin. The dirt under your nails, oil coating your hair and the stench on your clothes. 

Steve walked into the bedroom while Sam disappeared into the bathroom. Bucky lingered for a second before slowly waking towards you. Unknowingly you slid away from him, but Bucky reached out to grab your arm, hoisting you up. He scrunched his nose, disgusted by your appearance. 

“When was the last time you showered?” He asked as he dragged you out of the room into the hallway. 

“I don’t know.” You whispered back. Maybe it was shame or maybe it was the fact that you haven’t spoken a word in days. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you pretty again. Can’t let you rot like this.” Bucky looked back to you while he dragged you up a flight of stairs. “I need my wife to be in top shape.” The grin spreading across his face sent shivers down your spine. 

The floor up from yours looked different, almost taken care of. Walls painted white, floors polished and light fixtures lighting the space. A few rooms to your left and right, but Bucky guided you right past them towards a set of double doors at the end of the hallway. He let go of your arm fishing a set of keys from his back pocket. 

Bucky unlocked the doors and ushered you to go in. The scent of flowers and soap filled your nose. The place looked shockingly nice, cosy even. Walls in an brilliant white, sofas facing a TV, a piano pushed against the wall to your right. There wasn’t a trace of remorse or shame in the room. The atmosphere disinfected from the crimes of the innocent.

“Welcome to your new apartment, sweetheart.” Bucky took his leather jacket off, draping it across the couch. 

Compared to the tiny space you lived in, this was a huge contrast. But something about it bothered you. A look around confirmed that this was where Bucky lives and now not even the walls would be an escape from the monster living under the roof. A cage full of poison pulling you deeper into the hopelessness.

The door behind you opened, Sam and Steve came in, carrying your few things in boxes. Steve walked passt you with a wink, setting the box down on the floor. With a quick wave they disappeared again and you were anxious on what would happen. You felt unnervingly aware of your own presence, wanting to vanish between the cracks in the floors.

“Come here.” Bucky ordered and you followed him into a different room. You looked around, a lump forming in your throat. The bath had been filled with water, a coat of white bubbles floating on top. “Take your clothes off.”

You looked at Bucky with wide eyes, blinking at him a few times. Bucky sighted, moving over to you. 

You inched away as his fingers got a hold of the hem of your sweatshirt. Shaking your head you tried to remove him from you, but his grip was too tight. Pulling the sweatshirt over you head, Bucky moved to your leggings, pulling them down your legs, removing them with your socks. You crossed your arms in front of your chest to cover up your exposed skin. 

Bucky reached behind you, taking a hold of your bra clasp, his hot breath burning on your forehead and with no effort he undid your bra. Bucky’s eyes fell on yours as he slid the straps down your arms, untangling your limbs from your chest, your bra fell to the floor, exposing your breasts to him. 

Bucky’s tongue moved over his lips, leaving a wet trail. “Pretty.” Bucky said and although his voice was silky, the word felt like daggers in your ears.

Bucky knelt down in front of you, pulling your cotton panties down, his mouth agape. The touch of his fingers running down your legs, his eyes fixed on the flesh in front of him, it was surreal. 

He threw your clothes into the corner, taking your hand in his, helping you into the tub. As you sat down, the warm water encapsulating your skin soothed your head. 

You looked up to Bucky as he removed his clothes, revealing the toned and muscular body underneath. You turned your head away, heat rising to your head. Bucky chuckled and that left you even more embarrassed.

Bucky lowered himself into the bathtub, is eyes burning into yours. He gestured for you to come closer to him and as you laid between his legs, head and back resting on his chest, Bucky’s hands roamed your arms. 

“I had my eye on you for a long time, dollface. Don’t you remember your mothers funeral? I was there.” Bucky spoke softly into your ear. “I saw your teary eyes and that awful black dress, but you still looked pretty as ever. But that day in your cafe, when you threw coffee at me.” Bucky chuckled a little before sitting you upright, coating your hair with shampoo. “That moment just confirmed it for me.”

Your searched your brain for any confirmation of what Bucky said, trying to remember seeing him at your mothers funeral while Bucky continued to wash your hair. The image of Bucky standing off to the distance floated in front of your eyes. Bucky in a suit with Steve and Sam by his side. 

Bucky rinsed your hair, you heard him inhaling deeply. “I love you.” He whispered against your hair. Your lip trembled, tears threatening to fall, but they didn’t. You felt sick to your stomach at the words. It felt as if the water that welcomed you with it’s warmth now suffocated you, strangling your throat. He was insane, out of his mind and you were sure of it.

You were sat on the couch, listening to the commotion in the house. There were voices coming from a few rooms over, but you couldn’t tell if they were real or not. Your hair dried by now, but his fingerprints still lingering on your every fibre. 

Next thing you knew the door opened and a man in leather called you to dinner. You swallowed, getting up from your seat, following the man down the many flights of stairs, turning corners before entering a dining room. 

A long table was set with plates and cutlery, all seats were occupied but one at the other end of the table. Reluctantly you sat down, eyes burning into you from all sides. They watched as you sat down on the cushioned chair. Bucky smiled at you from the other end of the table, gesturing for the meal to start. 

You watched as the residents took their food from the plates in front of them, piling them up. Your eyes fell on Peter sitting a few seats away from you, your jaw tensed up upon seeing the traitor. 

“Darling, eat something.” Bucky’s voice cut through the air, taking your gaze away from Peter. 

You grabbed a few potatoes, watching as Bucky’s mouth spread into a smile at your compliance. You swallowed the food slowly. It felt so normal, so typical. You were the odd one out between the gangsters. A flower growing between weeds. But you knew sitting where you sat that you would wilt.

Suddenly Bucky stood with a smile, looking around the table. “These past weeks have been very hectic.” His eyes fell on you. “But we’ve once again conquered every bump along the road. We yet again eliminated an enemy of ours from our beloved Dawn. All thanks to out youngest member. Isn’t that right, Peter?”

Your blood was boiling as Peter swallowed, eyes flicking to you and back to Bucky. 

“Peter?” Bucky called for him again and Peter nodded his head. 

The heat in your head turned scorching hot. You took the wine glass in your hand and with one swift move stood and threw it at Peter’s head. Your hands trembled, shook unbearably, because it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough seeing him cowering in his seat, blood rolling down his temple. You wanted to strangle im, break his neck, burn him alive. Anything to make him feel the pain you felt, the anguish you’ve felt since she died in front of your eyes.

You moved around the table, but were stopped by a red head holding your arm. Bucky’s laugh filled the quiet room. Everyone was quiet as Peter ran out. Tears spilled from your burning eyes. 

Bucky walked towards you and you thought you were going to die right there, but Bucky took your face in his hands, kissing your forehead. “This is not how I expected this to go, but oh well.”

Your mouth opened and closed, feeling the woman’s hand leaving your arm. Bucky reached to his back pocket pulling a blue velvet box out. You stared at it as he opened it, revealing a ring. Your jaw slacked and you thought gravity was pulling you to the floor. 

There wasn’t a question, no kneeling. Bucky slid the ring onto your finger without a second thought. You broke out of your trance, hearing cheers all around you, but your brain was scattered, eyes burning. Black dots closing in before your eyes as you hit the floor. 

You awoke with a start, but instead of hard wooden floor underneath you, you felt soft material hugging your figure. Warmth encapsulated your body. Your eyes drifted to your body, an arm wrapped around you. Reaching out to remove yourself from the restraint, a glimmer caught your attention. You raised your hand examining the ring, wrapped tightly around your finger. The diamond worth more than your life.

Your eyes travelled up the arm, shoulder, neck and finally to his face. Bucky’s face was too close to yours, laying on his stomach, eyes closed.  A shaky breath left between your teeth, quiet enough to not disturb the wolf sleeping soundly. You squeezed your eyes shut, turning your head. 

You sat at the edge of the bed. Bucky was long gone when you woke up from your sleep. After a deep breath in, you rose from the bed, walking over to the closet. 

It was strange seeing you so dolled up. The version in the bathroom mirror was foreign, someone you knew long ago. But now she’s a ghost standing beside you. 

You left to Bucky’s office, a walk of shame. You didn’t know if going back to work was a good idea, but you needed to leave the house. Clint stood at the door, killing machine in hand. 

“I need to speak to Bucky.” You said with confidence, or what little was left of it.

“He’s not here.” Clint looked down to you and you swore you almost missed it as he looked ahead again down the hallway. The glimmer of sadness, pity. 

You nodded your head even though he wasn’t paying attention. 

You took a different route, far away from the church. You were sure that Lana’s body had started to decompose because the stench of rotting flesh whipping in your face each time the wind blew. As your cafe came into view, you almost forgot what it looked like. The lights out, chairs on top of the tables. 

You got everything ready for business, even sweeping the floors, baking more strawberry pastries. The distraction felt good, empowering. A sense of control. A purpose. 

The bell above the door chimed and for the first time in forever, a smile broke out on your face unknowingly. Mrs. Wilson stepped in with her purple coat and yellow purse. You wiped the powdered sugar on your apron. 

“I was surprised to see the light on! I missed your baked good, dear.” Mrs. Wilson fished a piece of paper out from her purse, dictating what she needed. There wasn’t a lot you could offer her, but you managed to bake a few bread loafs and scones along with her favourite pastries. 

You packed up her items and took her money. “My dear,” Mrs. Wilson spoke softly. “I am so sorry about what happened.” You raised your head, smiling weakly.

“Look, Y/n.” Her addressing you with your name was weird, making you stare at her with her change in hand. You could’t read her face, detect a particular emotion. “I heard you are going to get married to Bucky, but I fear that you won’t survive him.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were not made for this life, Y/n. I know Lana’s cousin, he’s been running the flower shop since you know, but he has to return to the city this week on Saturday. Dear, I could talk to him and ask to take you with him.”

Your jaw fell open. Could it be that Mrs. Wilson wants to help you get away from Bucky, from Dawn and a possible marriage? Words didn’t come, you stared at her with your lips parted. If you declined, you might as well pull out the rope. But if she’s lying to you, Bucky would personally hang you with his own hands. 

“I’ll come back on Friday and you tell me what you decided on.” Mrs. Wilson took the change from your hand, holding on to it, giving your hand a tight squeeze. “He’s leaving at two on Saturday.”

Mrs. Wilson took her bag and looked back to you before she disappeared through the door. 

You didn’t realise you were crying, holding onto the counter. You don’t have a lot of time to think, Friday being the day after tomorrow. Your mind was shattered. You were sure that you could hold your breath for another day, until the nightshade would take you away. 

Jumping out of bed, you knew Tony had a special breakfast made just for you like he does for all the Avengers. You quickly changed into your favourite blush coloured sundress, running out your room towards the dining room of the compound, you got even more excited about the day ahead. Once you entered, you saw the table filled with all your favourites. Scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes and fresh fruit. 

You looked to the people standing at the table, smiling to you, congratulating you on your birthday. Everyone except Bucky. He sat down, shooting you a brief smile, but it was ok. You knew him, knew what he was like and celebrations were not really his thing, nor were you. 

Bucky terrified you a little, with his brooding, his deathly glare once he didn’t pay attention to anything, his skills. He was a terrifying man to you. So you kept your distance. 

After all the food was devoured, your day was filled with fun Tony had arranged for you. A day trip to the zoo, all the Avengers with you. It was no surprise that people started to surround you trying to catch a glimpse at the earth’s mightiest heroes, but that didn’t ruin your day. Tony arranged for you to feed the sea-lions, take pictured with monkeys and even pet the tigers. He made sure you got all the benefits from being his friend. 

The day went by in a whim and the sun sunk between the skyscrapers. You went into your room to put away all the gifts you’ve gotten from your friends and all the souvenirs from the zoo. As you laid out the different packaged items, a clear box caught your eye. You weren’t sure who it was from or when you had been given it, but the item inside made your face light up.

You opened the top to reveal a pink frosted cake with icing made to look like roses. The door clicking shut behind you took your eyes away from the treat. You looked over your shoulder and saw Bucky leaning on the closed door, a shy smile spread across your face. 

“You’re not eating this without me, are you?” Bucky spoke, nodding to the cake in your hands.

You looked down at it, sure that this was his gift. “I’m happy to share it with you, Bucky.” You looked up at him as he pushed his body from the door.

“That’s sweet, darlin’, but that’s not what I mean.” 

You tilted your head, confused by his words. Bucky came closer to you, taking the clear plastic box from your hands. His close proximity made you sweat and his gaze down at you didn’t help. You’ve never been so close to this man, let alone in a room alone. 

Bucky took a small slice, setting the rest aside on your table with the other gifts. He turned to you, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Open up.” Bucky demanded in a low, hushed voice. 

You hesitated, but as you saw him raise one of his brows you reluctantly opened your mouth little by little. He only encouraged you as he shoved the piece of cake in your mouth, stuffing you until you couldn’t close it. You tried to chew, but Bucky stopped you. “Don’t. Only swallow when I say so.” 

There was a pit forming in your stomach. You knew that something off, but you didn’t want to upset him. 

His callused hands cupped your cheeks, a content smile forming on his lips. Bucky guided you to your bed, the back of your knees hitting the bed frame. Your fell back, almost chocking on the cake in your mouth. Bucky climbed over you, his hands running up your sides and finally resting on either side of your face. 

You’ve seen something similar in movies, but every time you closed your eyes, looked away or changed the channel once things progressed. But Bucky wouldn’t do that to you, would he? 

“Just stay still for me, okay? I’ve got a nice present for you.” Bucky whispered and you slowly nodded your head, heat making it’s way to your face.

Bucky sat up between your legs, eyeing you down. You felt yourself sinking into the mattress, further into the material under his gaze. There was something off and you knew it in the back of your mind. His eyes dilated once he reached the hem of your dress with his gaze. Bucky licked his lips, hands suddenly gripping your thighs and you yelped at his touch. A whimper pushed it’s way up your throat but was muffled by the contents in your mouth.

He pushed the hem up over your thighs, onto your stomach, exposing your cotton panties to him. You hands flew to his, eyes wide, but he simply pushed them away, pinning them to your side with a warning look. 

“Enjoy it or I’ll make you.” 

You wanted to swallow, the cake getting soggy in your mouth. You felt Bucky’s hands slowly hook his fingers on the band of your underwear, licking his lips as he pushed the thin fabric down your legs, eyes fixated on your core. He stood from the bed to pull the panties off your legs, situating himself back on the bed, pushing your legs further apart with his knees. 

Your legs bend and you stared at the ceiling. His thumb grazed over your bud, your legs jerking at the contact. Bucky dipped his head, his hot breath on your pussy before licking a stripe between your folds. Electricity flowed though your body from your core, down your legs. His teeth pulled at the bundle of nerves harshly making you grip a handful of the sheets beneath you.  

Looking down you locked eyes with Bucky, you caught a flash in his eyes. A flash of foul intend that passed as quickly as it appeared.

Bucky kept biting until you felt like passing out. He lifted his head and you exhaled through your nose. He unbuckled his belt, pushing his jeans down with his briefs. His cock sprung free, hard and leaking with pre-cum. He made no effort to remove his clothing further, moving to hover over you. His eyes stared down into yours and a chill crept up your spine. A million questions in your head but no way to express them.

There was apart of you that wanted to kick and scram, spit the contents of your mouth into his face, but the way he looked at you, hovered over you told you not to. You felt the tip of his cock over your entrance and you cursed in your head of how desperat you were for him to fuck you. 

Bucky pushed forward, filling you slowly. His eyes closed as he dove in further. The sensation overwhelming you. Bucky pulled out with a grunt, filling you back up with more force, making your body jerk back, the metal of his belt hitting your skin.

You could smell his arousal in the air around you. Trapped in his pleasure while you heaved for air, suffocated by his moans. 

He did not care.

His pelvis hit your sensitive bud, still sore and stinging from his teeth assaulting the bundle of nerves. The impact making you gasp into the soggy cake as his cock dove further, hitting your cervix painfully. He explored the depth of your pussy like he paid for it, like it was his right. Bucky pushed his torso up, kneeling between your legs while holding your hips up, his hands gripping your flesh tightly and you knew that every crevice of his fingerprint would be engraved on your skin. 

He wasted no time, a grin on his lips displaying his enjoyment and he jerked forward, a noise escaping your throat, a noise of pain you’ve never heard. Pieces of frosting dribbled down your chin. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes, Bucky watching as they rolled down your cheeks that have been painted with shame. His grin widened, teeth showing as he basked in your pain, watching you cry underneath him. 

It was too much. He was too much.

You felt dizzy, the relentless pace fogging your mind, pleasure replaced by pain. You cried into the cake while Bucky’s moans mixed in with your sobs. You felt the build up from your climax, your walls clenching around his length.

“You want to cum?” Bucky grinned and you nodded your head. “Cum for the camera, c’mon doll, smile.” 

You registered his words and looked over his shoulder. A red dot glowing at you and panic flowed through your body as you came, shaking your head as you closed your eyes. Fresh tears flowed and you felt your cum coat his cock, dripping onto the sheets beneath you. 

Bucky groaned as he came inside you, his cum warm as it coated your walls. His movement slowed and he set your hips back down onto the mattress. He pulled out, bending over you as your legs straightened. His hand gripped you chin. “Swallow, birthday girl.” 

You did as he said, swallowing the wet, soggy cake down your throat. You cough as soon as your mouth was free. 

Bucky pushed himself away from you, pulling his pants back on. He walked over to the camera, taking it from the shelve. He walked over to you, pointing the lens on your core. A sinful smile spread on his lips, his face lighting up as he looked through the viewfinder. A look as dark as nightfall. 

Bucky stopped the recording, but your vision blurred, your head spinning. You felt dizzy, sinking further into the mattress as the black spots overtook your vision. Bucky’s words rigging in your ear as you passed out. “Happy birthday.”

You came to your senses, a headache hammering away in your head. You stretched, but the pain in your core made you hiss. You looked down and found yourself naked from the waist down. Scrambling the pieces on what happened you shook your head, sitting up, you pulled your skirt down. 

You sat at the end of your bed, a silent sob escaping your lips. How did you let that happen? 

A knock on your door stilled your cries and the door opened. Steve emerged behind it, closing the door as he entered, a concerned look on his face. 

“Y/n, what did he do to you?” Steve’s soft voice calmed you down and your cries overtook you. You felt the bed dip beside you and you felt his arm wrap around you. “He send the video to everyone in the compound.” Steve whispered and you looked up at him, shaking your head. 

Steve pulled his phone out, tilting the screen so you could see it. And there you were, spread wide open for him, face stuffed with wet cake you were now sure was poisoned with drugs. You turned you head away and Steve stopped the video, encasing you in his arms as he embraced you.

Steve stroked your hair and you looked up to him, but you caught it, the glimmer of ominous darkness. You suddenly felt uncomfortable. Not just in his arms but in your room. Steve placed his hands on your cheeks, a little too much pressure. 

“Do you want another slice of cake, doll?” Steve’s mouth spread into a sinister smile and you shook your head vigorously.

Your eyes wandered down to the seam of her dress, slowly revealing the bruises on both her thighs. A hand covering your mouth, careful to not upset her, shake her, make her run. But there was little to hide, the agonising and painful pull at your heart. 

She let the skirt fall, covering her thighs. 

There was something you wanted to say, something reassuring, but the words could not slip past your lips. A simple ‘what happened’, a question reasonable.

“He- he touched me, and I said- I said n-no.” A string of sobs left her lips, closing her eyes. “He didn’t s-stop.” 

You reached out to her, laying your hand on her shoulder, a light and careful pull. She stumbled towards you, laying her head on your shoulder. A thousand thoughts, but none delicate enough to say. You knew what happened as soon as she came walking up the street. A bittersweet romance turned poisonous. A possibility you saw coming. 

The town doesn’t have a lot left for girls falling for the leather clothed men chasing them all over town. They turn their face away from them, whispering profanities. A lot of ‘told you so’, a lot of hot air from the people living in Dawn.

A lot of people think the town is possessed, cursed by witches from medieval times.

The smell of blood always wavers through the air as soon as you enter Dawn. Scientists say it’s chemicals, but none of that stays in the heads of the residents. 

The old tale says that women used their period blood to seduce men, covering their desired man’s house in symbols to pull them into an everlasting love. 

The town is built like a circle, a church in the middle, a poor attempt to rid Dawn of it’s evil. Before the church there was a town house, owned by the wealthiest man there was. Red scull, they called him, the origin story of the men in leather. 

After him, the townhouse was torn down and a church was built, but not long after not even god was safe from Red Sculls son. The offspring who would bring the gang back to life. 

They showed everyone who was in charge, blood was shed from anyone daring to refuse their power, deny them of what is theirs and so, the smell of blood never left. Always lingering in the air.

Generation after generation attracting folks who were looking for more control, but end up with blood on their hands, guilt on their faces. Only a few make it, with promises they couldn’t keep.

A town build on tales and make-believe.

You sat across the table from Lana, the girls’ hands wrapped around a mug, tears staining her pale complexion. He bottom lip trembled as she raised the mug to her lips.

“He needs to pay for this.” You said confidently.

Lana shook her head, her Bambi eyes wide with terror. “You’ll get yourself in trouble, you know what they can do, what they’re capable of. I shouldn’t have gotten involved with them.” A whimper escaped her lips.

You hung your head, defeated. There is truth to her words, but someone has to put an end to this. Another girl left on the curb, used and abused by the head of the clan. Another girls’ innocence stolen by force, without so much as a glance from the townsfolk. 

An eerie silence fell, the presence of someone evil lingered around her. 

Barnes.

A name no one who isn’t looking for trouble ever dared speak. Afraid it would somehow summon him, like a spell. A man as dangerous as his name, but just as beautiful as the devil created him. A curse not meant for the faint hearted. 

His words are the national anthem here. 

No matter if it’s a curse, spell or an enchantment, you’re not falling for it. Determined to defy the cliché of the weak woman falling for the devil’s son. A cliché in itself. A dangerous game to play, but a game, nonetheless. 

You weren’t scared of a man trying to find a moment of thrill from an innocent soul. 

-

The small cafe was empty, like every day it dawned on you day after day. Maybe that’s why your mother did what she did. A failure of a dream she had. Turn the family business into a cosy place, but the money stopped flowing slowly and steadily. 

Standing at the counter with your apron, sundress adding to the sweetness of the aura your mother created. A place for the people who didn’t know of the more popular diner in the centre of town. 

Your life threatened to become just like your mothers. No steady relationship, money slipping through your fingers, mundane days dripping with boredom. Your end was destined to end like your mothers, a sting of rope, swinging without life. 

The pastries fresh from the oven, buttered and sprinkled with powdered sugar. A recipe your mother created. You set one down in front of you, a cup of coffee in your hand. 

A break you didn’t really need, but took advantage of, nonetheless. 

The bell above the door chimed, surprise overtaking you, but a look over your shoulder killed it instantly. Lana entered the cafe, still pale as ever. Her eyes shallow since that fateful day. 

She sat across from you and you slid the plate over to her. Her small hands took the pastry, taking a bite. She loves your mom’s baking. “Can you pack up some of the strawberry ones for me?” A smile that didn’t reach her eyes stretched her lips. 

A simple nod and you were about to stand when the bell over the door chimed once more and the look on Lana haltered you. The sound of heavy boots on the tiled floor.

The air filled with fuel and leather. You didn’t dare to look, in fact, you’ve never seen them other than when they rode their bikes through the streets, passing you. 

“I think you forgot this.” One of them said, undoubtedly Barnes. A low and dangerous laugh echoed through the room, cutting through the tension.

A pair of panties hit Lana right on her chest, short breaths escaped her lips and you knew what this meant. Not much longer and the faucet would be running. 

Anger bubbled inside you at the sight of her clutching the pair of pink lace panties. No matter how much danger radiated off from the man behind you, everything you knew about him was thrown out of the window.

You gripped the cup with your hand, an electricity searching its way through your veins. With the turn of your torso, not even sitting up from the chair you aimed the brown, hot liquid in his direction. 

The cafe fell silent, all tension hit the floor as you met the eyes of the man stood in the middle of the room. Rage, that’s all you could read in his blue eyes. The two men standing behind him tightened their fists.

Time stood still, all eyes on you.

The only pair of eyes that you could focus on were the ocean blue ones staring right into yours. A death threat. Nothing but crime in his eyes and you right in his point of view. The shiver running down your spine left you cold. A single breath felt like a thousand daggers through your chest. 

He moved, slow. Without a single second to react, his hand wrapped around your throat. “You little bitch.” He spat.

His voice ringed in your ears, but the rage bubbled back up, a stern look on your face. “How could you mock her after what you’ve done?” 

You expected a lot of things. Maybe his hand tightening around your throat, or spitting on your face, but he retracted his hand. 

A low chuckle from his lips and your face dropped, unconsciously softening. He studied you. Eyes moving from yours, to your cheeks, lips and raked over your body, stopping right on your cleavage. 

“You’re going to pay for this, dollface.” he shoved his hands into his pockets. “You’re gonna wish you stayed in the shadows.” His smirk made you feel smaller than you wished it did.

Barnes and his entourage walked through the door, but he turned once more. “See you, y/n.” 

-

It was difficult to decide whether the spotlight drawn to you by Barnes was worse than the fact that he already knew who you are. You relished in the fact that you never made direct contact with the Howling Commandos. 

But now that comfort was stolen from you and you wondered what exactly they knew about you. It makes sense to you that they know the residents of their town. 

A week passed. A week of anxiety. You tried to push away the thought of him, but each day you set foot into the cafe a flash of what happened passed before your eyes. Another memory added to the dread of this place, another one added to the one of your mother lifeless, swinging side to side.

Your fate isn’t as unusual as it may seem. No one truly gets out of Dawn, always bound to come back to take over the family business. Anyone stupid enough to move here sees the horror not long after, but it’s too late. Bound to the town and the town bound to them. 

You breathed in and out, but the sound of motorcycles couldn’t find their way out of your ears. Was is a coincident that you heard the roar of their bikes more often this past week, or just your imagination.

Along with fear, a sense of responsibility and purpose raged within you. Somewhere in you. A purpose to teach him just how cruel the devil can be. What you have can be taken away from you. 

Revenge is as sweet as strawberry jam. 

-

Fun isn’t written very big in Dawn and unfortunately the only place to get wasted is the club house on the outskirts of town. A place full of the Howling Commandos, their wife’s, claimed women and men with a death wish written on their throat. 

You let Lana in, leading her to the living room. A modest house, but a house, nonetheless. She sat next to you; her legs crossed. Two glasses were filled with red wine.

You handed Lana a glass, taking a big gulp of your own, eyes studying your friend with caution. It became harder to read her emotion, her face tainted by the horrors pushed upon her. 

“How’s peter?” You asked between sips. A question to steer away from the million questions you had in your head instead.

“Oh, yeah he’s doing ok. He’s finally learned how to make a Bouquet.” 

Peter started working at the flower shop a few weeks ago, revealing himself to be skilled in the field, a true eye for the delicate petals. A young man you wished she would’ve caught an interest in.

“But he’s been getting a little too nosy about the bikers,” her eyes watered, a sigh escaping your lungs. “he asked about him today.”

“Oh, Lana.” You pulled her side towards you, encasing her with your arms. 

A knock on the door interrupted her quiet sobs, her big brown eyes staring into yours, a glimmer of fear hidden behind the glassy tears. Your feet carried you towards the door, hands shaking slightly as you turned the doorknob.

A man you recognise only by the patch on the shoulder of his leather jacket. A stern look mixed with boredom. A glance down to his hand and you saw the small brown package. 

“For you.” A wicked smile spread on his grey bearded face.

You slowly reached your hand out to take the package away from him. The small bundle of brown paper rested in your hands. The man turned his back to you waling off to his motorcycle. 

You stared at the package, backing away from the door after closing it. A twist in your stomach and you knew this wasn’t good, not in the slightest. 

Lana walked over to you; questions written on her face. 

Your senses kicked in, only now realising that the package is warm. A warmth spreading over your hands, but a cold shiver running down your spine.

You set the package down on the counter of the small kitchen. A look over to Lana and you untied the bow with caution. The brown paper loosened itself and from it oozed a stench of blood. As the layers were pulled away from the mysterious item, the brown turned red. 

A gag from Lana and a shrill scream from you as the paper was pushed away. A heart revealed itself, bloody and fresh. 

Lana looked to you teary eyed, a hand covering her mouth. You swallowed stepping away from the heart. 

“You know what this means, right?” Lana whispered, barely audible enough to bounce off the walls. A shake from your head and Lana removed her hand from her face. “When one of- one of them sends you the heart of a deer- it uh- it’s kind of like a claim of the woman’s heart.” 

If you weren’t so disgusted by the sight of the object and the stench of blood filling up the kitchen, you would have laughed at the ridiculousness. You lifted the corners of the paper, heart pounding, hoping to find the name. 

Bucky Barnes.

There it stood in tar black ink. You didn’t know what you expected, but you hoped it would be any other name. But the gift is his’, a claim on your heart and your name. 

-

[ part two ]