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americaswritings · 5 months

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Voices of Roses and Ruin | Part III

Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of killing, mentions of torture, Coriolanus being himself

Summary: Coriolanus realizes he's still a part of the Capitol's games and that your life is the prize.

Words: around 3k

Pairing: Young Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: I never expected this to turn into a story, but here we are! I really hope you enjoy it!! Also I'm halfway through the book now and planning to watch the movie (in English then) again afterwards! I'm so excited!! :)

If you have ideas for Coriolanus oneshots I would love to hear from you (or if you just feel like ranting about the movie, the world of Panem, the characters, Tom Blyth...lol)

Can be read as Lucy Gray x Coriolanus Snow here

Part I | Part II | Masterlist

All Coriolanus had wanted was to follow you that night.

Seeing you in the arena had been painful. Watching them use his voice to torment you had been worse. And thinking he would never see you again had topped it all.

But watching you walk away from him? That was a new kind of pain.

Everyone left Coriolanus life. First his mother and his little sister. Then his father had followed. All he had left were the Grandma'am and Tigris, but it didn't feel that way with them so far away.

But here he could have you, if he allowed himself it. And God how he wanted to. His days as a peacekeeper were dull and lifeless, but you had brought colour and a flicker of hope into his life.

There had never been the choice between you and the scholarship, but suddenly there was and he didn't know how he could decide between the path he had always firmly believed was his and the girl he had never seen coming.

But there too many reasons holding him back. You belonged to different worlds. That would never change.

It was a cruel kind of knowledge.

Every time he tried to forget about you he awoke sweating. You haunted his dreams.

The look of betrayal on your face as you had realized he would return to the capitol. That even after he had admitted they had used his own voice to manipulate you, he would still go back and pretend it hadn't happened. That he was still the same boy.

He dreamed about your body. About sacred moments of peace and quiet the two of you, the outside world forgotten. About your laugh and the spark in your eyes and that you would fall asleep and wake up in his arms.

He dreamed about every scenario involving your death his brain seemed to come up with. Death in the arena. Death because he had manipulated your chances. Death because he had let you go.

When he heard Tigris voice for the first time since he had been sent to the districts over the phone the relief almost made him cry. He wished he could tell her about his conflicted emotions, but he couldn't risk anyone overhearing him.

Besides, he didn't know if he could ever admit to her the true extent of his feelings. It was embarrassing that of all people he had fallen for a weak girl from the district.

But you were so much more than that to him. It was why it had been so painful to watch you go. Because until that moment some part of him seemed to have hold onto the improbable hope that you would start a life in the capitol together.

As the winner of the games he had assumed it could be possible. That people respected you enough that he could be seen with you and that you wouldn't be forced to return to your life of shreds and dirt.

But you had shown him that this was no future you could ever imagine. And just as you weren’t willing to change for him, he couldn’t do it for you either. Even though you loved each other your love was not enough.

But then why did it hurt so much?

"Everything okay?", he asked Tigris to distract himself from his thoughts. It was another worry that made his heart heavy, the one for his family. Their money was still as tight and with him gone there was not much he could do for them now.

He earned too little, could barely pay for his own foot and housing. Was this how the people in the districts felt? Stuck in a constant loop of worry, fear and work that would never pay off? Unlike them he would never accept such a fate. Unlike them he didn’t belong here.

"We're okay." He heard an edge to Tigris voice, "but there's something you should know about."

His posture stiffened and he gazed around, making sure no one was there. "What is it?"

"Everyone's talking about you and the girl in the capitol." His fingers clenched around the steel. "What are they saying?"

"Never in the history of the games did the gamemakers ever do what they did there with your voice." "He was aware of it, so he waited for her to elaborate. "But why use your voice? The voice of her mentor. Why not someone from her family, someone she cares about?"

To hear Tigris say that you didn't care about him, that he was nothing more than your mentor hurt, but he pushed the anger away. "She doesn't really have family left. And she trusts me. So it makes sense."

"Then why did they only use it on her? Why didn't they try to manipulate anyone else?"

He let out an impatient sigh. "I don't know. They didn't tell me they would do it. But it was our task to make our tributes trust us and I was the only one who succeeded."

"But they didn't, Coryo."

Momentarily he forgot what he was about to say and took in a breath. What was Tigris implying? "It was your task to be a good mentor. Get the people's attention and make them root for her. But making her trust you was your decision."

"Didn't you tell me I should do it?" He sounded tired and accusing and he knew his cousin heard it in his voice. "Yeah, but I didn't expect-", she trailed of and he waited for her to continue, frustrated when he realized she wouldn't.

"She really trusts you, you know that, right?" He was growing more irritated with this conversation by the second. "I think I did a good job, if that's what you're asking."

"My God Coryo, that's not what I mean!" She exhaled loudly at the other side. "We all saw how scared she was for you. For her mentor. For someone from the capitol."

Her words were another reminder how different the two of you were. He hated it.

"We all saw that you care about her too. You kept visiting her. You two talked so much even when the cameras weren't near and everyone who was in the same room saw how terrified you were for her in the arena. And then, against all odds, she wins and you disappear without another word."

She was speaking softer now, probably expecting the defensiveness he felt rising in him. She knew him well. "They gave me a task. I did what I had to. That's all."

Tigris was silent for a moment. "Even if it were true, you did your job a little too well. The people are obsessed with it! With you and her, the idea of a love story between a mentor and their tribute. A Snow and the girl from ashes."

Tigris was speaking slowly, like she was afraid she was overwhelming him with the news and her tone was grave and serious. It was the polar opposite to the hope he felt.

It wasn't the narrative he would have chosen, but a story meant attention and attention meant relevance. If it was true and Tigris was right, they couldn't keep him hidden in the districts much longer.

People wouldn't just accept the two of you together, they would demand it.

His lips curled into a smile. He could have never imaged a better way to get out of here and to convince you to come with him. What reason did you have to say no now?

"Then why do you sound so fearful?"

Tigris took in a deep breath.

"It's the people that love it. You know how they are, always looking for gossip and a good story to keep them entertained enough to forget about their own miserable lives. But-", she paused, "the people are not the capitol. Everyone who's got something to say in Panem hates it. It sends the wrong message, Coryo. That the people from the capitol and the people from the district could be equals. The whole point of the hunger games is to demonstrate supremacy and power. They don't want a girl from a district turning into a star and having a sweet little romance with one of their own."

His smile faded. He felt his heart pounding in his chest and suddenly the room was too small, the walls to high. With each second it was getting harder to breathe. The uniform- he needed to get out of this damn uniform!

"Coryo?"

Tigris voice sounded far away as he struggled between losing himself to his fears and keeping a composed and prideful image.

He had realized the situation he was in was far from ideal before, but having the capitol, the very people he needed to impress as his enemy could- no would destroy his whole life!

And yours too.

The future he had just seen before his eyes ruined by words of love.

"What do you think they'll-", he still couldn't catch his breath. He needed these peoples on his side, not against him. How had he ended up here, so useless and powerless?

No! He needed to keep it together! He would get through this, like he always did. He would find a way to make this work for him or if there was none, he would come up with something else...

He was smart and his name still meant something. Snow always lands on top.

"I don't know what they’ll do." Tigris answered his question without him having to finish it. The worry in her voice did nothing to quieten his own. "But it's only a matter of time until they will have to act. I just- I wanted to warn you, Coryo."

He nodded, more to himself than her. "I will be fine." He had regained his composure and his voice was perfectly emotionless.

"I am worried for you. I think they might try to-"

He would never find out, if Tigris suspicions had been right, because before she could finish her sentence the call cut off.

Had they listened again?

Was he even safe here anymore?

Two more days passed before they came for him.

Two days he had spent pondering his choices yet felt no confidence as he stepped in front of the commander. His posture was as straight and effortless as always, so one would have guessed he was secretly far from calm.

He had expected to meet his superior in an official building, something elegant, if that even existed in the districts, but instead he was led to a distant part of a warehouse, where the lights flickered and spider webs hung heavy.

Coriolanus saluted in front of the man, then waited patiently for him to speak. He hoped no one could see past his guard, noticed how fast his heart was beating.

"I was informed about certain rumours circling the streets of the capitol these days. I take it you have heard about them too?"

He gave a short nod, forcing his face to remain blank. The man, who he assumed to be in his late fifties took a step closer. His hair was completely grey, except for one white strand. It gave him an upper look that didn't suit the scenery of the district.

Was he from the capitol? He wasn't dressed like it though; he was wearing the peacekeeper uniform, but something told Coriolanus it was a disguise of his real power. The capitol liked their games.

"So what do you think?"

"I think-", he began, but his voice got interrupted by a painfilled scream. His eyes flickered to the door, but it was locked, either side guarded by a peacekeeper. None of them moved and when he turned back to the commander he simply weaved his hand, urging him to continue.

Coriolanus swallowed, taken off-guard by the noise but pulling himself together. "I think it's just that- rumours. Eventually the public will take an interest in different news."

"Ahh, so you don‘t think such a narrative could have an impact on the political climate both in the districts and the caption? That it could send the wrong image?“

Coriolanus pressed his lips together. “I believe-“, but again a cry disrupted his attempt at an answer. It could not be a coincidence that they had chosen this place to talk to him. It had probably been arranged to shaken his composure and unsettle him. He hated to admit that it worked.

It was probably just a thief, paying for her sins. No one that deserved his attention. Yet it was unnerving, a subtle reminder just how quickly he could manoeuver himself into the same position.

“Oh don‘t tell me that’s bothering you?” The man in front of him raised his brows. “You should be familiar with the sound of traitors. So what is it you wanted to say?“

Coriolanus straightened his shoulders, but this time the sound was louder, clearer. It was a scream that cut through the air and it was one he knew too well.

No.

“Mr. Snow, what was it you were saying?“

He blinked in irritation and straightened his shoulders when he realized his loss of posture.

“I was saying that the capitol could own it. Make it their own narrative. A tribute developing…an infatuation“, he felt sick, “with her mentor could be-“ Another scream. He felt his composure crumble. The man tilted his head. He was silently laughing about him, Coriolanus was certain about it. “…helpful“, he finished, clearly distracted by the background noises.

They sounded too familiar, had been the sound of his many nightmares and a silent fear crept up his spine.

What if this was real? What if it wasn‘t his mind playing tricks on him, making everything about you? Seeing, hearing you everywhere..

“So you affirm that this- infatuation as you call it is one-sided and you hold no feelings for you tribute?“

Coriolanus lifted his chin. “I merely did my job. I earned the public’s attention and got them interested in the games again. I turned a tribute with no chances into a winner.“

“So you‘re saying the girl doesn‘t mean anything to you?“

He put on a smile that didn‘t reach his eyes. “I assure you and everyone in the capitol that I do not have any connection to the girl beyond the mentorship and that I have no interest or care for her fate now that I completed my task.“

He had always tried to mask the truth or bend it when he felt he needed to, but lying was a different kind of game. One he felt he was losing.

He could tell himself he did this to protect you. But the reality was that he didn’t know if he did.

No, he had to think of his own life now. It was better this way. He had helped save your life once. Now it was time for you to walk your own path.

“Coriolanus!“ He flinched. It was too late to pretend he hadn‘t, everyone had seen it, but he couldn‘t not react when he heard your desperate voice calling his name.

This whole time his instinct had told him that he was right. That the sounds belonged to you and this was more than just a set-up to unnerve him.

It was a trap.

“What is this?“ His voice came out too sharp and he willed himself to remain calm, but it was impossible, if you were here and you were hurt.

“Oh, it should not be of concern for you as you just told us you do not have any interest in the girl‘s fate.“

Had he just said that? In his head it had sounded much more- convincing. But hearing his own words reflected back to him just made him realise how pathetic they sounded.

They could not be farer from the truth.

“As her mentor I would like to know what you are accusing her of“, he tried a different approach, but it was senseless.

“Oh but Mr. Snow, she is not your tribute anymore. Like you said there is no connection between you and the girl.“

His commander took a step towards him. “Now tell me, which one is the lie?“

Coriolanus swallowed. It took all of him to stand still and keep himself from running after your voice. His body was trembling from the effort. Too long he had been trapped behind a screen, unable to do anything to help you.

But here he could.

Another scream broke the silence. Despite his will he flinched again and closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to stay strong, remain unaffected. But with each sound he felt himself losing control and a hatred took over his instinct.

“I personally believe you have been lying to us for a long time now, Coriolanus. I can see it on your face. But I would like to hear it out of your own mouth.“

Another step closer. Another cry.

“Say it.“

Coriolanus clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists.

“SAY IT!“

His fist connected with the man’s jaw before he could even think about what he was doing. He saw the other two peacekeepers at the door reaching for their weapons, but he was faster and had shot them with his own in an instant.

Without another look at them he ran for the door, following your pleas. His heart was racing as he raced through the corridors and tried to locate where it was coming from.

Hopefully he wasn‘t too late. No, he couldn‘t think like that! Yet the thought of what he might get to see tore at him. He should have acted sooner, he should have- killed these men before they even got the chance to open their mouths. It had been a lost game from the beginning and he was done being their paying piece.

“Coriolanus!“

He had almost made it. Just another room…

Coriolanus pushed it open with so much force that the door crashed against the wall and broke out of its hinges.

Breathing heavily and sweating he came to an abrupt stop and took in the room. It was small, dimly lit, empty. He took a step forward, his eyes fixed on the only thing in the room. It was a table and on it-

A cage with a bird.

Part IV

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allandoflimbo · 3 years

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Ashens (Part 18)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian. Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 17,000 (I’M SO SORRY) the first half of this story is flashback. The second half is the present.

Chapter Warning: Sex, twice. Sad Sex. Filthy sex. SMUT. VERY strong Language. Bucky and Reader will be very toxic in this chapter. It might be triggering if you’ve ever been in an emotionally abusive relationship.

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

Full Masterpage |

There’s an imminent smell of old wood garnish and pumpkin spice escaping a bright orange glow that flickered in the background.

The odor was extremely strong, trickling through the thick and heavy air of the twelve by twelve room. There was a draft coming in through the window and it continued to help push the flame directly towards the center of the room- the scent marking anything in its direct path with a faint reminder of the close arrival of winter.

Though the glow of a candle was soothing, to many it was anything but pleasant; scented candles were a new thing and it was said to be something for the upcoming future generation.

The idea behind it was that it carried an artificial smell that held a memory you could carry along with you wherever you went. Its point was to remind you of where you were or what you wanted to be feeling, come the fitting setting. This specific pumpkin candle was to remind us all that it was a season of festivity and gathering, and much-needed warmth. The other obvious reason being that pumpkin was delicious.

If you weren’t eating it, you might as well be smelling it.

To most people, it made no sense. Why would you want to smell something so delicious and not be able to physically consume it? It was a pleasant odor coming from an artificial chemical, completely contrary to what is expected. Put simply, it was an empty promise.

One more strong whiff of pumpkin, mixed together with the cozy sound of a crackle of fire, he blinks and Bucky is brought out of his daze. He’s now entirely environmentally aware of his surroundings and sounds coming from additional places come into his perspective.

Within a moment’s relapse, he chooses again to regain focus on the other specific sounds aside from the antagonizing fake fire, gazing his eyes over the pleasant words in front of him.

To his dismay, they don’t sink in. He is distracted by the harsh rain pellets and the distant undeviating sound of a honking Durant. Unlike the candle, those sounds didn’t stand out to him as empty promises, but instead as a reminder of the harsh reality of the outside world.

His strong and confident fingers appeared to skim the yellow worn-out pages of his book on their own accord; his eyes still looking, but not necessarily seeing. Looking closer, with shoulders painfully slumped, he squinted his blue eyes. The words blurred into one and he began blinking desperately and shifting in his seat. He tried to regain his proper vision, not enjoying the sensation of not knowing or seeing what he was trying oh so hard to understand.

His right thumb gave a slight unconfident tremble as he tried to pick up the next page. After a couple of failed attempts, the paper not obeying (most likely due to his careless attempt- it’s not like he was actually reading it), he sighs in aggravation.

He closes his copy of This Side of Paradise harshly between his hands, bringing it to his face. He bounces his right leg uncontrollably up and down as he tapped his pointer finger on the cover of the worn-out novel, resting one elbow on each knee.

It was a nervous tick he picked up somewhere along the way.

The walls of the study room seemed to want to envelope him warmly, as if trying too hard to show comfort and security. There was an eeriness that made him constantly tremble and not feel comfortable at all. Maybe it was the hideous wallpaper, or maybe it was that disgusting odor of varnish from the freshly repainted wooden chair that he smelled when he first came in and could not stop thinking about.

There was no longer a sound of a honking Durant, and the rain seemed to dim down drastically as he continued to look into the distance. He wondered if it was the December air leaking through the slightly ajar window that made the tightness in his chest grow cold and frigid.

Aggravated, he placed the book down next to him on the side table, avoiding the waiting and apprehensive eyes staring at him. They had been staring at him for what felt like hours but had been only mere minutes.

He knew he was a strong young man, he'd always tried to be because that's how he was raised back in his little home town of Shelbyville, Indiana. And if asked about it, he would speak of it with great confidence.

When his mother passed away, his father had been the one to make sure to teach him that nothing like her death would be strong enough to tear him down. That instead, it would, and should, be a motivation for him to be a better person each and every time. He would need to transfer that hurt and despair into physical action.

But clearly, it had to come with a price and tremendous hard work. Things like that, non material things like emotional determination, could not be bought. If you wanted to be great, you had to work to be great. If you wanted to be strong, you'd have to work for it. He’d have to push through all the heartache and pain to reach that level of excellence that he knew his father wanted to see in him.

That is that natural characteristic they’re born with: soldiers.

It was well known, Bucky Barnes was a military brat. His father was always well respected at Camp Lehigh. They'd say back at camp that he was much like his father: loyal, headstrong, patriotic, and obtained strong morals. It was practically in his blood to be a fighter. A fighter for the good in people, the kind, and the innocent. It was his duty, and when he'd grow up to put his own two feet in combat boots himself, he would be prepared to take on any mission he was told. He would be more than capable of doing so.

They all promised him this and he himself grew up believing it.

But this, this of all things, was not something he was prepared for.

Because he's realized -at this exact moment- that his entire life he has lost almost everything and gained absolutely nothing in return. He'd put himself out there so many times to try and do the better good, from giving his last twenty five cents (that he initially wanted to use to buy flowers for the new pretty girl he met) to the little boy he saw walking down Broadway with no shoes.

He excelled in every class he'd ever taken because he knew it was good for him because it would make his father proud.

The shadow that belonged to the eyes and voice from earlier sat down in front of him behind a large desk that had a plaque.

It read ‘Director' in golden ink that had begun to fade from years of scratching and unkindly picking by kids that faced much less traumatic sentences than this.

Bucky's eyes lifted for the first time in what felt like a long time. He could feel the strain on his heavy eyelids as he did so. He regretted it the moment he looked up, because that's when reality seemed to have punched him directly in the gut. His eyes swelled and he blinked away quickly, not letting emotion get the best of his masculinity.

He'd refused to let a tear out.

But the look of pity on the man's face is what did it for him, it made him want to completely fall apart. He didn't like being looked at that way. He didn't like being the victim, the way it felt. He hated it with a passion. He wanted to run out of there and hide himself away for at least one small moment and cry.

"I'm so sorry."

That was the response he exactly did not want to hear. Bucky let out a shaky breath and ran a hand through his short hair as the words rang in his ears like ticking bombs. Again, he didn't like the pity.

He tried to deny it and shake his head back and forth to himself but all that did was drive tears to trickle out of his blue eyes.

He knew this would pass with time, but being weak was not the reaction he needed to put on display. He was a soldier for heaven’s sake. No matter how destroyed his life seemed to be getting, he couldn't let it show.

Bucky cleared his throat, making sure his voice would sound strong before he would begin to speak.

And it was.

"It's not your fault.”

Twenty-one. That's how old Bucky Barnes was when his father passed away.

+ + +

They were both laughing so hard that she started getting tears, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the laughter or the bitter cold. They were both so caught up in the events of the night neither noticed how cold it really was.

Once their laughter dwelled down, she continued to stare at him in total admiration. He was something else for sure. She wanted to feel his arm around her again. She looked down at his freezing hand and took it into her cold one.

“Tell me about you, James.”

He smiled when she looked back up and he gave her a tight squeeze.

“First, tell me what a fine dame like you is doin here in Brooklyn.” A playful smile plays on her lips, but it’s a rhetorical questions so he continues, “What do you wanna know?"

She smiles even wider and this time it reaches her eyes, “Everything. I want to know everything about you by tomorrow mornin’.”

The fact that she suggested spending the night with him made him gulp.

He looks down at her lips and nods slowly.

He followed up by telling her that the apartment he had rented out for the next few weeks was just a couple of blocks away. On the walk there she had questioned what he meant by rent for a couple of weeks to which he responded with that he would explain there, but that they should get warm first.

When they arrived, his door ended up being three floors up. His dingy beat-up door made her smile inside. He gave off a classy, rich, stuck up vibe, but really he was simple and not much for being out there. She liked that he seemed so original.

He inserted the key into the normal door lock and bolt lock and opened the door for her to let her in first. She stepped into the “foyer”, if it could even be called that, and took a look around. It was more like a two by two feet space. She walked in the rest of the way and took a look around. It was basically a small studio, but a lot smaller. It was one room, inside there was a tiny kitchen on the left corner, a window that looked out to another brick wall, and to the right a metal bed with a white blanket.

But it was made, military style.

He walks over to his record player and places the needle gently down on the vinyl. If You Only Knew starts playing quietly.

He looks over his shoulder at her and notices her facial expression.

“Yeah, sorry” he chuckled dropping his keys by his iron stove, “I know it’s not much, but it’s temporary. You should’ve seen my old place before I left for training.”

He catches himself when he says it but it’s too late. Her head snaps to his direction and her face holds an emotion that he can’t really pin point. He can’t tell if it’s fear or surprise. He swallows hard and tries to direct the conversation to a different direction.

He curses himself in his head for his stupid slip up. He goes to the far kitchen and opens the cupboard, “I got some cookies, uhm,” he doesn’t know what to say with her staring at him like that. He closes the cupboard and runs a hand through his brown hair. It’s silent.

It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. A car honks outside after it runs through a puddle and Ella’s voice is haunting.

“You’re in the army.”

He’s caught off guard and his eyebrow raises at her voice. He looks at her. It wasn’t fear or surprise that she had felt when he said that, it was sadness. It was the one feeling he was afraid she’d feel, it was the reason why he didn’t want to tell her just yet. But it was too late, she knows now.

He nods.

He sees visible tears build up in her eyes. He doesn’t want this, he wanted this to be happy. Just a half hour ago they were laughing and now she’s in his apartment, shattered. She nods quickly and crosses her arms across her chest.

She was different and he knew it the moment he saw her. Any normal girl would love to be with a soldier, but not in this case. Not when it was something like this.

She looks at his bed and his window and shakes her head. This was a damn pit stop.

The made bed revealed just how loyal he was to what he had signed up for and she knew there was no backing out. But he was perfect, she couldn’t lose him. She had to at least stay for the long hall, she thought. It wouldn’t last forever anyway.

Her eyes meet his again. The tears had been blinked away and evaporated and her strong satire was back.

He takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over the sink, sighing. He had been waiting patiently for her response. Whatever she said would ever make or break this, and for God’s sakes if there’s anything he didn’t want to do it was break this.

“How long?” Her tone was strong.

“How long till I leave?” He was a bit confused by the question.

She nodded.

Bucky felt his heart sink. It wasn’t long. She would not like the answer. It was not good. She concluded this herself by his delayed answer and his stare at the floor beneath him.

She let out an exhausted sigh and a click of her tongue as she turned away from him. Now she was angry.

“Five days.”

They’re silent, standing there letting reality sink in. Minutes pass by. She takes a seat on his bed and takes off her coat. He watches her every move intently, wondering if she would decided to stay for the long haul or run out of his cheap room he dared call an apartment.

“Like I said. I want to know you.”

He heart soars and he smiles. He re opens the cupboard and takes out a box of cookies. He fills up two jars with milk and hands one of them to her as he practically dances over to her. He sits criss crossed on the bed. She chuckles at how innocent he looks just sitting there like that in his dress shirt and suspenders, like a kid.

It’s awkward at first, trying to sit cross cross with a long dress on, but eventually she manages by pulling her dress up around her thighs. Bucky blushes at this. She brings him out of the moment.

“So what are you doing in Brooklyn?"

He smirks, “I live here, Doll.” She gives him a confused look. He takes a deep breath and decides to start from the beginning, “I moved here when I was a teen. My father was in the army since we used to live back in Indiana. I used to go with him to camp, I loved everything about it. The respect those men held, the strong mentality they had, there’s was so much about what they were doing that made me see there was something greater to live for. To make this country better for us, so we can live and be peaceful and happy. There are way too many nasty people out there who don’t deserve to breathe our air. We are good people and I want to save the good people. It’s something serious, putting your life like that on the line. Unfortunately not all are willing.”

Daisy smiles at him talking about his love for the military. She remembers her mother’s words at that moment.

It really was in his heart, his love for humanity, “it’s in my blood, just like dad. I did training in New Jersey where he was stationed.” Mentions of his father makes him trail off for a second and Daisy notices. She places her hand on his, “and then they sent me back here for some additional work just until our physical forms go through to see who gets accepted. Who does leave in five days.”

Daisy perks at this, “So you’re not actually certain if you will leave?”

Bucky chuckles to himself and looks down. He reaches for another cookie, “Doll, my dad was well respected on the forces. They raised me to do the same. They practically have my name already there ready for me. I know I’m not staying.”

Daisy stays silent again. Bucky tosses the cookie back down and reaches for her cheek. She gasps and looks up at him, her blue eyes soft, “I’m not saying this to make this harder. I’m being honest with ourselves, because,” he looks at her eyes and then her lips. She swallows hard when she sees him looking there. Her heart starts to race in his chest as he moves in closer, “because I know all we have is five days and I want to make the most of it. I’ve only known you for a few hours but what I feel with you is something I know will last forever.”

The moment he says this he feels like he’s just put his heart own on his sleeve. Something he has never done. There was no taking it back now. He’s never had a relationship like this before, he prays to God he didn’t just mess it up. He starts getting afraid when she doesn’t respond, she just stares up at him. His eyes swell up slightly and he wants to add that it’s okay if she didn’t feel the same.

But No. he didn’t not want to lose this. So he slides his hand from her cheek even higher up the side of her head through her hair and watching her, “Please tell me you feel the same.” His voice is low and full of emotion. Hopeful.

She’s never felt this. This had to be the boy of her dreams, and now she felt like the one that was dreaming all over again. Just three hours ago she never even knew this man existed, but all of a sudden she felt like she’s known him all her life.

She moves in closer and watches his Adam’s apple bobble up. The proximity was too much to bear. He was too much, and yet she wanted more. She wanted him.

And she only had five days. They had five days.

And they were going to make the most of it.

The moment her lips crashed onto his was a moment he wouldn’t forget. The fire that exploded inside of him was a bright red flame and it burned through his heart. Instinctively, he brings his other hand up as well and slides it to the other side of her face. She slides her left hand up his thigh and he growls against her mouth, their tongues meeting for the first time. It was fast, hard, and needy.

He raises himself up onto his knees so he’s towering above her still criss-cross body. Her hand raises up higher up his thigh and he feels her delicate fingers reaching in his waist band. He growls against her mouth once more.

She uses his belt loop to bring his body downwards as she uncrosses her legs and lays herself down onto his bed. Bucky’s right leg drops down the side of the bed and accidentally kicks the glass over. They’re lips still stay connected and he’s bringing his right hand to the strap of her dress, and now Ella’s voice sounds like a goddamn melody.

He’s about to pull her strap further down but he stops himself.

He pulls away and they’re both breathing heavily, Daisy whimpers at the distance he puts between their lips. The sound makes him want to go back to what he was doing, but he stops himself.

She’s about to question him when he places her strap back against her clavicle. He pats it down gently and the act makes her laugh. His lips are swollen and she kisses them one more time. He moans into her mouth. She pulls away and lets him speak.

“I want to know you, too.” He says.

“We will. We have five days.”

+ + +

Her legs had curled up against her chest as she laid on her side, a single finger making soft patterns against his chest. It moved up and down sharply as his breathing became affected by what her touch was doing to him. He had stared down at her finger and then grabbed it diligently. She watched silently as he used his right hand to unfold her twirling fingers and fold it with his, holding it against his body.

She looked up at him incomplete awe, her eyes drifting down to his approaching lips. He dipped his head just slightly as he brushed his lips against hers.

They had stayed up all night talking about their goals, and what they loved to do. Daisy was a simple, innocent,, young girl. She loved dancing and flowers and she also admired the simplicity of innocence. She grew up in a Christian household and her morals were up there. They both laughed together when she brought up the fact that she never would’ve had thought she’d be cuddled in bed with a man she met only hours before.

They commented about their families, how Bucky’s little sister had been taken away from him not too far back, about his mother’s death.

“What about your father?” She had asked.

Bucky remained quiet as he stared up at her. She noticed his change in demeanor and her eyes squinted. Bucky let go of her hand and switched his position from on his side to on his back. He brought his leg up and folded his hands on his chest.

He felt her shift and lean against him. He looked over and saw her resting on her elbow, her left hand drifting up his neck and into his hair. She pulled on it slightly making him close his eyes.

“James.” She whispered, pleadingly. He opened his eyes and looking into hers.

“He passed away,” he could tell she was going to start saying condolences as her mouth opened but he beat her to it, “this morning.”

He thought she was going to start giving him sympathy, he expected it. But instead he felt her rest her head on his sturdy chest. He was taken aback at first, but then smiled softly and took in a deep breath. He allowed his hand to snake in through her soft blonde hair.

“You’ll get through this. You’re strong.” He swallowed as he felt her hand skim against his chest, feeling him. He didn’t want to push her into anything and was thankful that her hand just went to his waist, pulling his body closer to hers, “I can tell.”

“I want to be with you. And when I get back from war, I want to be with you again.”

+ +

She knew she was taking a risk by inviting him over to her house, but she had wanted him to meet her family. Sure this was fast, but how long did they truly have together? She obviously remembered the stories her mother told her.

Underneath the anxiety, love, and happiness she felt as he helped her mom cut the carrots, she genuinely hoped her parents would love him, too.

“How long have you known this boy, Daisy?” Her mom had asked over her shoulder as she washed some lettuce and tomatoes in some cold water in a bowl under the sink. Daisy bit her lip. Her mom noticed her hesitate, “ Daisy .”

Her tone was judging and all too motherly. Daisy looked up and saw her mom giving her a glare that quickly told her that she didn’t like where this was going. Daisy felt defensive.

“Momma, before you judge me, he’s an amazing gentleman and I fully trust him with everything,” she saw her mom shaking her head to herself and murmur something but the sound of the sink water drowned it out. Daisy got up exasperated and walked over to her mom, “Think about it, when was the last time I brought a boy home? You know I don’t bring just anyone. You are going to love him.”

Her mom smiled and looked over at her, shutting off the water.

“You are lucky I’m me and not your dang fatha’, Daisy.” She washed two more tomatoes, “Do you?”

Daisy gaped at her, not really know how to respond to that. To be fully honest she didn’t really think about it. When it came out while she was cuddly with Bucky earlier that day, it was natural and she hadn’t thought twice about it. But it seemed to soon to tell, but yet not fully impossible. She’d never felt the way she felt that when she was with Bucky. She felt heat creep up into her cheeks and her mom started to smile. The moment was interrupted by a strong voice.

“Love who?”

Both Daisy and her mother’s face fell at the heavy tone that washed over them like pure ice. Daisy’s eyes drifted up to her dad who was standing in the door way. He held a cigar in his right hand, his leather covered foot tapping away. He eyed them both, clearly he was eavesdropping and was not liking where this conversation seemed to have been going.

Daisy gulped. She looked down and fidgeted with her fingers.

“A boy, daddy.”

“Daisy invited him for dinner.” Her mom added casually, draining the water out of the bowl with her hands. The silence was deafening. Her dad could tell she was avoiding his gaze.

He chuckled maniacally as he tapped his cigar with his pointer fingers, some ashes tickling towards the freshly mopped floor. Daisy watched as if it were poison. Suddenly, she was very fearful.

“Is that so?”

Daisy nodded, finally looking up. Her dad looked serious, territorial even.

“Charles, quit scarin’ her. I hear he could be the one.” Her mom winked at her.

Her dad squinted angrily, “The one? And I’m just now hearing about this kid?” He walked over to his wife and rubbed her back soothingly, still giving Daisy a disapproving look, “and did I just hear love?”

Daisy groaned in aggravation, running her hands through her curls, “Mom, stop that.” Daisy sighed as she wiped her hands on her little dress and walked back over to the stool that sat on the far side of the large kitchen, “he’s a great guy. Daddy, I know that, it’s why I invited him today.”

“I just don’t get why I’m not meeting this damn boy.”

Daisy flinched at his tone, “Daddy, please.”

“Then explain it to me!”

Daisy dropped her face into her hands, “I was just worried about you meeting him because he’s not the typical guy you go for. But I do care about him, please, just give him a chance. He’s very sweet.”

Daisy practically felt her father roll his eyes. She looked up and saw a snarl on his face.

A soft knock on the door and Daisy immediately flew out of her seat to open it. Her dad made a comment to Daisy’s mother about agreeing to this in the background, but Daisy was now momentarily too excited to care. She took a deep breath as her hand wrapped around the doorknob.

She opened it and the moment her eyes landed on him, her heart went soaring and she literally felt herself smile. All the anger and fear she felt before dissipated. His reaction was mirrored to hers, his pearly whites making her blush hard. His gorgeous eyes wrinkled at the sides as he smiled. He looked perfect in a soft black suit, underneath it is a white dress shirt, but the top button undone. His hair was in a small quiff and shiny from his pomade.

She extended her hand out to take his in hers and pulled him inside playfully hard. They both giggled together, Bucky’s face leaning down to kiss the top of her cheek. She hadn’t realized how hard she really pulled him until he stood right in front of her, their fronts touching. She was blushing as he stared down at her face and then her lips.

He tilted his head slightly and started to lean down, and her eyes drifted shut, when the moment was interrupted but a cough.

“So you must be the boy Daisy won’t stop going on about.”

Bucky pulled back, red tainting his cheeks. At that moment he realized he had just been caught almost wanting to devour this woman’s daughter’s mouth right in front of her. He stepped back bit and straightened out his back and cleared his throat.

He brought his one hand across his chest and with the other he extended it out for a handshake. No longer lust in his eyes, he was now completely serious, his mission being to impress a high class family. Her mom smiled at how charming he was.

“Mrs Davis.” Bucky greeted with a firm shake and smile.

She could tell by his strong handshake that he had been raised well. She exchanged looks with Daisy, who clearly looked terrified and expectant of what her reaction to him would be. She looks back at Bucky.

“Daisy never mentioned your name.”

“James, mamn.”

“That’s a strong name.”

Everyone looked up to follow the voice. Charles stood there tall and brooding, another cigar in hand. Bucky stretched out his arm once more, too eagerly this time, “Please to meet you, Mr. Davis.”

Bucky waited as Charles stared down at Bucky’s hand, not taking it and clearly not wanting to anytime soon. Bucky stood there awkwardly, fear and rejection creeping into his guts. He slowly lowered his arm, Charle’s gaze not leaving his face.

“You live on the upper east side, too? What’s your Street? You’re dressed like a damn paper boy.”

Bucky’s face fell immediately and Daisy inwardly groaned.

Bucky licked his lips nervously and then fixed his back to stand taller as if to appear powerful. There was no way he was going to let this man tear him down.

“No, sir,” He hates that his voice is shaky. He gives Daisy a nervous side glance and then back to her dad, “I live in Brooklyn, sir.”

Her dad frowned and both Daisy and her mother knew this was going to go down fast.

“Brooklyn,” his tone was disapproving, “What do you do for a living, boy?”

Daisy took a step next to Bucky, “Dad, that’s enough.”

Bucky frowned and realized Daisy hadn’t really told them close to anything about him. While he understood, he was now dreading the whole entire conversation that would go down. Him and Daisy shared a look before Barnes looked back up at Charles.

“I’m in the military, sir.”

Her dad raised an eyebrow as soon as the words left his lips, then a scoff. Daisy looked up to his her mother’s face fallen and sad.

Bucky’s eyes darted between Daisy and her father, suddenly realizing that something that he said was not good.

“Sir, was something I said -“

“Daisy, tell me hows a boy who doesn’t have a real job suppose to be with my daughter? A goddamn soldier? Jesus.”

“For heaven’s sake, Daddy!”

“Charles, stop that!”

Daisy’s mother’s angry voice made everyone go silent at once. Bucky felt small, wanting to fade away into the ground below him.

Charle’s scoffed, tossing his cigar at Bucky’s beat up dress shoes. It was the best pair he owned and even those were not his best. He swallowed hard, trying to not feel small and sad.

“I’m gonna get Jimmy and then we can eat.”

Bucky stared down at the cigar at his feet, his heart feeling heavy. “A goddamn soldier”.

It replayed over and over in his head.

Suddenly, he felt a comforting hand on his back. He looked up and saw Daisy staring down at him, sad.

“Just a goddamn soldier, Daisy?” He motioned upwards with his hand. “What is this?”

Daisy looked down, “James, that’s my father, okay? If anything, let’s just be glad he didn’t kill you. He’s like that with everyone.” That actually did help Bucky feel slightly better as he stood up taller. Daisy’s hand reached up as she cupped his cheek, “And the soldier thing, he’s weird about that. I’m not sure why.”

Bucky stared at her for half a second, doubting every word, before he simply complied and nodded. He smiled slightly.

+ +

The dinner was quiet and tense, and over much too slowly. Bucky had quickly pulled Daisy out into the hallway to say goodbye before he left, groaning into her mouth how he was never going back in there ever again. They both laughed and kissed.

And now here they were at the bar, the night before he had to leave. Bucky didn’t want to leave, because he had a feeling that this would be one of the last few days he would have any peace and serenity. His gut was twisting and turning as he played with the strand of her hair between his thumb and pointer finger. As his gaze drifted from her lips to her blue eyes he just knew deep inside that this is exactly the kind of feeling he wanted to be feeling for all of eternity.

He felt it when he touched her, when he looked at her, and when he held her in his arms.

It was like a wave of fresh air that reminded him of home - Daisy was his new home. He knew it happened fast, they all did, but sometimes true love doesn’t have to be complicated. When its meant to happen, it just simply happens. It’s simple as that - as simple as him tucking her hair behind her ear and giving her that pearly white smile that made the cheeks on her face turn a crimson red.

She leaned her forehead onto his as he held her close by her waist, the piano in the background that was once haunting, now insanely beautiful exactly like the woman in front of him.

When Bucky had told Steve he might ask her to marry him one day.

Those words Steve said kept ringing in Bucky’s head, even as he now held Daisy in his arms, but they meant absolutely nothing to him. She was his sanctuary, his now, and he would take it by the hand.

He would take advantage of these last few hours he had with her and he would pretend all is good in the world and it would stay that way. It had to.

He kept telling himself that so he, himself, could believe it. The truth was it was all going to go downhill, he could tell.

He knew that once he left for New Jersey tomorrow that he wasn’t going to automatically be drafted into war, there wasn’t a necessary need just yet. But his father had told him the speculations of how the US wanted to go after the Nazis, and he knew there was something else his father wasn’t telling him, and it would not be long before hell broke loose.

That’s when Steve and all the others would eventually be even more so analyzed and drafted, and so would Bucky - without a doubt.

Sure, he was courageous. It wasn’t that he was scared to go, but he needed to be certain that Daisy would always be safe. He would surely miss the moments of having her in his arms, safe and happy.

Softly, he took her left cheek in his hand and rubbed his thumb across the top of her cheek bone,. He needed to take advantage of this moment that was staring them dead in the eye. He needed to. It didn’t matter how fast it was, how much he wanted to treat her preciously, and how much he respected her faith. He needed her.

“Come to my apartment with me,” he noticed her gulp and her mouth opened slightly. Daisy’s mouth went dry and she watched his usual blue eyes turn a heavy grey. Bucky smiled slightly, “I don’t want to seem like I’m making you do something you don’t want to, but I just…” his voice drifted off as his gazed dropped slightly. His eyes became clouded with disastrous visions of the future. He blinked it quickly away, wanting to just see the image of Daisy underneath him. Just her and her pearly white skin and those gorgeous lips kissing him.

At that moment Daisy knew exactly what he was asking.

She was a virgin and she had mentioned that to him when they started talking about the topic of her faith. She technically wasn’t supposed to be engaging in anything that was sexual before marriage to which Bucky simply nodded. At that moment, he decided he wouldn’t be too strong on her nor mention anything of his past sex life which would surely leave her blushing. He loved fucking.

But as she stared at him right then and there, realizing this could be the last moment where they’re both happy together and not having to worry about anything, she wanted just exactly the same thing he did. She closed her eyes tightly together and leaned her face closer to his, giving him a deep and sexy kiss on his top lip, biting it as she pulled away.

Bucky practically growled at her action, never seeing this side of her. Daisy was innocent, a classy lady, one that should always be treated as such. Sure, he knew of her passions for burlesque and lingerie (when she told him he had practically tried not to cum right then and there in his bed), but that was a dirty little secret that he concluded shouldn’t be mentioned out loud. She was always that beautiful, young, and morally behaved girl that stole his heart.

When she let go of his top lip, which was definitely throbbing now, he narrowed his lusty eyes at her and took it as a sign of acceptance.

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t slightly shaking the whole time he walked her to his dungy little Brooklyn apartment. He looked straight adorable in his little Italian flat hat and suspenders, his coat draped across one of his arms, the other holding her hand as he slid his key into all three locks of the door.

She swore she could see him shake a little too when they had gotten inside and he put his coat on the tiny kitchen table and he turned to her.

The room suddenly felt even smaller, the air between them hot and utterly thick.

He eyed her up and down and swallowed hard. She wore a beautiful black dress that covered every single part of her that he now wanted to see exposed to him.

Her lips were slightly red from the many kisses they shared on the way to the apartment, and her pinup eyeliner was so damn pretty as it shaped her eyes to perfection. She was damn gorgeous and she knew it.

He slid off his dress shoes and then walked over to where she was standing. Her heart hammered away in her chest as his stunning blue eyes traced her body. The moment he finally stood before her, he realized he didn’t want to do with her what he did with every other girl.

He lifted his left arm to the side of her neck and watched her chest fall rapidly up and down. He grabbed her there lightly, and then slid it down the side of her body, eyeing the beauty that was simply her.

“James.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

He grabbed her right hand and pulled her along over to his bed. She looked down at him as he stared up at her, in awe and in love. She brought her hands to his face and touched his perfectly combed hair, smiling.

She stopped when he laid his hands over hers and brought it down between them. His face was now serious as he whispered, “Lay with me.”

He wanted to make love to her tonight.

Did they and it was slow and tender.

+ +

Bucky had told Steve he’d be back soon. It wouldn’t be too long - maybe a month, maybe even a few weeks. Bucky stepped onto the steam train and Steve and Daisy had stood next to each other as they waved him goodbye. The moment he sat down in his seat and the vision of the love of his life and his best friend became nothing but silhouettes, he threw his head back against his cold seat, taking a deep breath. He made a vow to himself that now was the time to make himself, his father, and his country proud.

The only thing he wanted more than his girl was to save the lives of every person he possibly could.

He took an additional deep breath, running a damp hand over his face. He stared up at the iron ceiling as the train swayed side to side and up and down over the slightly uneven tracks, making its way south.

He fidgeted uncomfortably as each horrible made up scenario of what could happen when he arrived went through his mind. He wondered if the chief and sergeant would agree that he’d be as fitting as his father in taking his place and if he’d make the best soldier he always wanted to be.

He took a deep breath and simply leaned his head against the glass.

His blue eyes watched as the scenery of green and trees became the last of peace that he had a feeling he would feel for a very long time.

+ +

Wheaton, New Jersey

The train ride wasn’t long; a little over an hour which was just enough time for Bucky to take his well-needed nap. When he had arrived at the station, he had noted the Jeep he was told that would pick him up along with two others who were on board. He didn’t even bother to meet up with them while onboard the train, wanting to take as much time to himself as he could, knowing it was probably his last opportunity.

The Jeep zoomed down a dirt road and through an intimidating metal gate. Bucky watched as young men ran around the perimeters, training intensely. Others were talking amongst each other as they took their break, sweaty bangs dangling onto their foreheads.

They looked at him in curiosity as his car sped towards its destination, probably wondering what was so special about this guy that he had to get to where he was going so quickly.

Suddenly, the car came to a heavy jolt and a hand slammed down beside him on his seat announcing their arrival. He jumped slightly at the intrusion but took a deep breath and opened the dingy door.

As Bucky stepped off the jeep and into the dirty mud of his new camp, he knew he needed to find his uniform and combat boots as fast as he could.

He stared down in a slight grimace at his freshly destroyed dressed shoes - he had just gotten them shined. He scoffed to himself and dragged it’s front against a random dry patch of grass trying to get off as much as he could. A young man jogged by, kicking some mud up onto Bucky’s new pants. Bucky looked on at the man as he ran, a look of anger written all over his face.

From a distance (from beneath a random tent that provided cover for a rest area, Colonel Douglas Smith watched in amusement the entire scene unfolding.

“This is Barnes’ son? The sniper?” He snarled under a grimace. He turned his head and gave Williams a disappointed look.

Another man -Williams- which sat to his left, looked towards Bucky’s direction over his daily newspaper. He watched on along with Douglas and smirked as Bucky looked around, lost.

His eyes drifted to Smith and then back down at his paper, giving it a slight smack, “Yes, sir.” humor tinted his voice heavily.

Smith shook his head in wonder as Bucky dusted off a piece of lint that was on his coat’s collar, “He better be right about this, or I swear to God.”

Bucky’s eyes scanned his vicinity, eyes narrowing diligently. His eyes finally landed on someone who seemed to be who he should be looking for, judging by their attire and posture of authority. Also, the fact that they had been looking at him first.

“He seems too pretty to be as good as they say.”

“His father says he is the best.”

Colonel Smith eyes Bucky up and down as he made his way over, sporting his new suit and fresh suspenders. As soon as he reached the two men, Bucky nodded at each one and took off his Italian flat hat, tucking it into his armpit revealing a perfectly groomed gorgeous head of hair drenched in pomade.

He reached out with his right arm for the Colonel to shake with a bright smile on his face, “James Barnes.”

“Colonel Douglas Smith,” he nods over to the man sitting down who seems very busy jotting something down, “This is Sergeant William of the one-oh-third.”

“Colonel. Serg.” Bucky confirms with a nod to each.

“Sit, boy.” Colonel demands with a motion of his hand in front of him. Bucky politely abides as he pulls out a chair to sit himself down. Bucky places his hat down in front of him and takes a deep breath, “First, I’d like to give you my condolences.”

Bucky momentarily stalls as his eyes drift back and forth between both men, but then clears his throat nodding, “Thank you, Sir.”

“Your father was a great man. Quite a fighter used to say he raised you from young to be the same way.” Colonel eyes Bucky up and down. Bucky gulps, finally feeling the pressure he had been slightly dreading from the beginning. He knew they were expectant of him, and now he was here to prove it and he wasn’t sure he had the balls of steels he had one day ago, “That true?”

Bucky clears his throat, “Yes, sir.” He leans down to reach into his briefcase and pulls out a beige file. He puts it onto the table and slides it across to Colonel. Smith is impressed by his promptness and professionalism and sees William smile from his peripheral.

“What’s this?”

Bucky clears his throat once again, “Dad trained me for many things,” he took a brief glance around the base, “I experienced boot camp at the age of fifteen. I’ve done long races, obstacle races, everything that tested my endurance, boxing, running- both in the rain and scorching heat. I’ve bled, I’ve learned not to cry and hold my own. I know tactics, I know what it takes to be a soldier, sir,” Bucky notes their faces still hold no expression of amazement he was looking for and he feels his palms sweating harshly, “My father did it so I knew how to be strong and prepared for when the time was right.”

Colonel Smith crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, not yet touching the paper in front of him. Bucky looked on in simple embarrassment from Smith to his folder, wondering if it was pointless to show as much pride as he did.

Smith’s strong voice makes Bucky jump when he starts talking, “You think that because you’ve trained since you were a young boy, but clearly have no experience being on the front line, that you are an American Soldier?”

Bucky automatically becomes defensive and his posture becomes confident. He didn’t like the nagging, the accusation of something he was not. That’s when he realized, he needed to prove himself. He was good, and they wanted to see it.

He leans closer to the table and crosses his hands out in front of him, “No, sir, of course not. Not yet,” His voice was strong and clear. The colonel sat there waiting for what Barnes had to add, “I have no experience yet with being in a war, not yet. But I have other experiences, first-hand experience.”

“And what is that exactly?”

“Guns.” Both Smith and William now give Bucky their full attention, looking straight at him in total interest. Smith even moves up closer to Bucky.

Bucky is almost one hundred percent more confident now than he was ten minutes ago because now he’s finally talking about something he knows he can own up to well. This he enjoyed immensely.

“Sure. Your file we have here does show you are good with targets, that you know what weapon is best for what, that you helped your father when it came to assembling and reassembling them for the troops, and that you are great at knowing the anatomy of a gun but many here can do that with intense training. What do you have that the others here don’t, James?”

The colonel was pressing now, and Bucky at that moment realized that what he was doing was not because he didn’t see a reason to not trust Bucky, but more so so he could prove himself, and this was his chance.

Bucky looked Colonel Smith straight in the eye with a snarl. He slammed one finger down on the table in front of them, “I’m not just good with targets. I hit them all.”

“I do not miss. This file,” Bucky again slams his finger down on the folder in front of them, “There are diagrams, spreadsheets, rough drafts, charts, and all my grades for every algebra, geometry, physics, and trigonometry class I’ve ever taken. All As. It also includes my use of Pythagorean theorems.” Colonel raises an impressed brown and opens the file. His mouth is slightly agape as he reads on what is pages and pages of mathematical equations, transcriptions, and each a different weapon usage.

For a cocky good looking guy, Bucky was clearly very very intelligent - a closet nerd.

“I might no be a soldier yet, but I’m already a good fucking sniper.”

William and Smith are smiling now as they see Bucky in the way they wanted to, “Look, I’ll go out there tomorrow if you need me to. Sure, I’m a kid, but that just means I have the time to learn more. I’m ready to fight.”

Colonel stares at Bucky for a beat. He nods, takes the folder in his hands, and stands up. Bucky looks up at him, “You will be here to assist Serg. William and I. And then we’ll see where we take you from there. We want a hard-headed kid here to help get these other guys in order.” His voice was softer now as he spoke on, “Soon, we’ll be out there in the real world and I feel you’ll do fine, kid. Your health record looks great, I saw your previous training records here at the base and they are impeccable,”

“Thank you, sir-“

“but,” Bucky swallows hard. Smith hands the file over to William, “We want you to focus on shooting. And train these damn ass kids that this isn’t just a game. William will escort you to your temporary quarter.”

Bucky nods and stands up, a wide grin on his face as Smith initiates the handshake this time, “Good luck, Kid.”

+ +

Letters.

That's how he spoke to her for two years. He missed her, he missed Steve, and he missed school. He missed Brooklyn, but he missed her most of all. She was everything he had ever wanted and more.

They refused to lose touch, but it seemed to have gotten harder the longer he spent time away from her. He almost started forgetting what it was she looked like and he did not like that at all.

He hoped more than anything that she didn’t forget what he felt like, what his cock felt like the inside of her pretty self. God, he missed her so much.

He’d be laying down in the bunker after one of her letters where she’d admitted that she missed all of his body, and suddenly he’d find himself a panting mess, a hand wrapped around himself. No other women in his life made him cum as much as she did. She was perfect.

Dad has been gone for four weeks and I don’t know why. Jimmy has gone with him- it’s just me and mother. I overheard her saying something about Germany but I’m not quite sure.. Or maybe it was something else. Though none of that matters to me, James- I want you. Please come home to me.

He would pick up his pen and start writing.

Daisy,

I’ll be home soon, my love. I want and miss you, too.

For some reason, a chill ran down his back as he reread the words “something about Germany”.

Like an awful memory that has never happened, he sees a child in front of him. It was a little girl and she screamed in agony for mercy. She was getting strangled to death by his own hand, a silver glint caught his eye-

“James!”

Bucky jumped up looked upfront his lap from where he was writing to see Williams looking at him in curiosity, waiting.

“Be right there, Sergeant.”

Take care of Stevie for me, Daisy. Be careful, both of ya.

Much love,

Bucky

+ +

He’s standing in front of the men, showing them how to correctly calculate the wind and kickback of a PPSh-41. Ten iron cans laid on the grass as Bucky allowed his gun to swing back towards him. He smirks and slides it back into place in the holster around his waist.

“Johnny, you’re up.” Bucky would announce each boy’s turn until they’ve all managed to hit all targets. Some of them taking more thirty tries each to succeed.

As much as he’d try and teach them how to properly shoot each and every gun they had on hand, it was evident that they’d never be as good as him.

But there were good in other aspects, some of which actually reminded him of Steve back at home.

“Faster.” Bucky would demand as he walked in front of them as they did fifty push-ups each. He knew they could handle it.

Williams and Smith watched from afar as Bucky’s men eventually became some of the strongest and most courageous they’ve seen in a long time.

They shared a knowing look and Smith gave a small nod.

Bucky’s gaze drops from the men he’d grown to love down to his feet. He didn’t expect to be there for two years. He didn’t think he would go that long without seeing Daisy, but they ended up loving having him there.

Within weeks he had the entire infantry under his finger. At first, he wasn’t too keen on yelling at them at what to do and how to do it, but with time he realized it was for their best and they realized that too. He was actually not a complete asshole when it came to bossing everyone around, but to be fair it mostly had to do with the fact that they were all not too much younger than him either, some even older.

+ +

It had been Friday night when Bucky had everyone in their bed by 8 o clock, without a complaint or disobedience.

Bucky sat in his little office under the vintage desk light as he was reading one of Daisy’s latest letters, where she spoke about how her father had come home briefly but was quickly leaving for Siberia within a few weeks and how much she was dying to hold Bucky back in her arms again.

She kept begging and begging him non stop.

Bucky’s face was crestfallen as he wrote back that he promised he would be back, and that he had to talk to her about something special when he saw her again for the first time.

Truth was, he was going to ask her to marry him. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her even if it was from such far away. Bucky was tucking the letter into the envelope when someone cleared their throat from his left.

His head snapped and he smiled when he saw it was colonel Smith.

“Bucky, mind if we speak for a second.” Bucky nodded his head and tucked the letter in his back pocket. The colonel noted this with a nod, “That for the lady?”

Bucky smiled slightly, although it was also sad, “Yeah. Miss her,”

Colonel patted a hand on his shoulder, “I know, kiddo.”

They were about to go into Colonel’s office when Smith turned around. Bucky practically walked into him, not expecting him to stop so suddenly in his path. Bucky’s face was serious and he felt worried at the tension that quickly grew, “What is it, Colonel?”

Contemplating before speaking, he looked over Bucky’s shoulder, “The men love you,”

He looked back at Bucky, “You’re good. Really good.”

Bucky should’ve been proud of his words (he was slight) but he could tell something was going on. Smith’s tone and his eyes were off, something was clearly up.

“What’s going on?”

The colonel looked down. It looked like for a second that he was going to back out on telling Bucky. But clearly this wasn’t something anyone could control anymore, “They want them in.”

World War II had merely started about a little over a year ago. Nazi Germany was at its peak and troops were being sent out constantly. Bucky knew there were several infantries being sent in, along with the heavy draft. Bucky had spoken to Steve back at home and Steve kept mentioning about the guys all being deployed out, but not all. They were still trying to recruit more as time came, seeing who was eligible and who wasn’t. Bucky tried to convince Steve as much as possible to quit trying to join the army, to stop lying on his forms to get accepted.

At their base, they were training until they were to be pulled out.

And now was the time.

“But that’s not what I want to talk to you about.”

Bucky’s heart plummeted for a fraction of a second. He wondered what else he possibly had to say.

Colonel turned into his office and allowed Bucky to follow behind. Bucky closed the door behind him, reluctantly and with a hard swallow.

“There’s a group being deployed in two days. To England, the one-oh-seventh.”

Bucky’s heart jumped into his throat. Pride filled deep within his gut and he tried to contain as much excitement as he could.

Smith went around his desk, “We agreed that you’re more than suitable to be deployed as well. So you’ll be with them.”

Bucky smiled. It was finally his time. It wasn’t just his men, but him as well.

“When?”

“A couple of weeks. The week before you’ll be allowed one week at home to see your friends,” Colonel looked at the letter that was peaking out behind him, “and your girl.” Bucky felt like he was going to cry from excitement at this point. Colonel’s face was still serious, “we want to assign you as an official Sergeant.”

The earth seemed two have shifted for a moment while Bucky processed the words. He couldn’t believe they would want him to serve at that level. Bucky’s brows raised in surprise as he stood motionless.

A soldier he always knew he would become one day, it was practically in his blood, but “Sergeant?”

“Yes, sir.” Smith crossed his hands out in front of him and stared up at Bucky, hopeful, “I knew the moment you started talking that you were different. You’re good, you’re loyal, you’re a true born soldier just like your father always said you were. You wouldn’t dare lay a hand on something unless they were worth it. You know how to take charge and you’re willing to be on the front line.”

That same image of a tormented child being strangled to death by a hand flicker’s through his mind's eye, except now the kid is thrown against a brick wall, completely deceased.

Bucky swallows hard, “My men, they will be with me?” He knew the answer because he was already told upfront but Smith but he needed to be sure. He needed to know all of them would be there by his side when he killed Schmidt.

“Yes. Drafting starts soon, son. You’ll be home for a little bit to say goodbye.” Smith smiled, “Go get your girl.”

+ +

He’d made sure all their beds were made before they all left to say goodbye to their loved ones one last time, and he made his as well. What good Sergeant would he be if he weren’t the best example if he were a hypocrite?

He hadn’t told Steve nor Daisy that he was coming home- wanting it to be a surprise. He stepped off the train, a tailored uniform, his new Sergeant cap on his head, and a pin on his left chest. He was ready.

A sharp wind blew in from the west, making him frown slightly in pain. The January air burned him like fire but yet gave life at the same exact time. This was reality and it was like a slap to the face. He was here to say goodbye.

Bucky had grabbed a paper from the boy at the train station and saw something about Howard Stark’s Expo and he felt like a little boy all over again. He loved Howard Stark, to be frankly honest he was quite a nerd for it. Not only did he make the best weapons that Bucky would love to have his hands on one day, but he also loved how smart and genius he was. How he was never afraid to reach the unreachable and to do what no one else had the guts to. He would kill to meet him one day and just tell him how amazing he was.

So he had to go to his expo before he left. He was ready to see his best friend and his girlfriend and that’s exactly who he was going to go with.

Bucky had been walking excitedly from the train station to Steve’s house, but he was not expecting to see him getting beaten up by a gentleman in an alley outside a theatre.

Anger blew up inside of Bucky as he ran towards the scene, “Hey!” He called out, grabbing both of their attention.

When Steve saw Bucky his eyes lit up.

Bucky grabbed the bully by his collar and kicked his ass while Steve watched from the corner of the dirty alley.

“I think you like getting punched.”

Bucky said as he helped Steve off the floor.

“I had him on the ropes.”

Bucky decided not to comment any more on how Steve needed to lay off and instead wanted to spend the last few hours he had with his best friend and his girl. He told Steve about how he was sergeant now for the 107th and that he was leaving for England in the morning the next day.

But he was also excited to share with Steve the one thing that Steve knew Bucky loved the most - Stark. When Bucky pulled out the newspaper that showed the expo that was happening that night, Steve notices the fanboy smile written all over his face. He couldn’t wait to pick up Daisy so they could all go.

When Bucky and Daisy saw each other for the first time, he had spun her around so hard her dress spun with her. Bucky kissed her so hard and she cried as she told him how much she missed him.

Steve just stared back in boredom.

“Are we going, or…?”

They both giggled and Bucky punched him playfully on the shoulder, “Come on, punk.”

The three of them walked into the expo. Steve was looking around in awe while Bucky had the biggest grin on his face as he held Daisy’s hand. She wore a beautiful dark drey below-knee dress and brown leather oxford heels and her lips were coated in the most beautiful shades of red.

It was everything Bucky had ever dreamed of. Stark literally blew his mind, especially when he brought out the beautiful to die for women and then make a car fucking fly. Even if it was for just a second.

Bucky’s heart soared.

Daisy looked up at him wonder and she watched his face light up in pure happiness. She didn’t know someone could be so beautiful and that she could love someone so much. She raised her right hand up to his face as a firework went off behind his head in the sky. It was blue - the same shade of his eyes.

He wasn’t expecting that gesture from her at that moment, so when he felt her soft little fingers on the side of his face, he snapped his head down to look at her. Her smile faded as he gave her a look of pure want.

She traces his lips with her thumb and leaned her head down on his chest. Her heart soared even more as he brought her to him in a tight embrace. He kissed the top of her head and then told Steve that they should call it a night.

Steve gave Bucky a tight hug and told him to be safe.

“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back,” Bucky warned him with a smile.

When Steve split ways with the couple at his door, he knew exactly what they were up to. He was happy for his best friend, he just hoped they weren’t too emotionally involved more than anything. He didn’t want to see Bucky get hurt.

He looked at his best friend with a weird sorrow. He wasn’t sure why something in his gut was telling him that this happiness, this simpleness, was going to be very short-lived.

+ +

When they had gotten back to his apartment, he had her against his door and his lips were on hers.

This was it.

Snippets of that flash of that dead child kept hitting Bucky over and over as he kissed Daisy up against his door.

He tried to get rid of those images as much as possible as he grabbed her gorgeous legs, pulling them around his waist.

That seemed to have done the job perfectly because he felt himself growing hard for her.

“Please.” She pleaded desperately over his lips. He pulled away from her for a second and just stared at her beautiful face trying to take it all in. Reality hit them like a truck as he caressed her cheek with his thumb. This was goodbye, for a while.

He leaned in slowly, and this kiss was different. It was love and care, and so much need. A need for forever. He felt tears building behind his lids as the thought of never getting the chance of holding her like this ever again tried to take over his brain. She tightened her legs around him, her hands going to the straps of his belt.

“God, I missed you, Daisy,” He moaned against her mouth. He brought his right hand between her legs, pushing her panties to the side. He slid one finger from her clit down her slick slit and her head fell back with a thud against his door. She groaned out loud at the sensation that wracked through her body, “Missed the sounds you make. I love you so much.” He growled against her.

She ran her hands through his hair and pulled his face away from her neck to kiss him deeply again. She nodded against him as her hips met the rhythm of his hand, confirming that she felt the same way.

“Please take me, James.”

He walked them over to his bed and gently laid her down. She stared up at his lustful eyes, her lips swollen from his kiss, and her dress bundled up at her waist.

Bucky didn’t waste two seconds to pull it off her. Next, she helped him pull off his uniform jacket and shirt, revealing his gorgeous abs that she wanted to lick over with her tongue.

Next, she removed his pants.

She slowly tucked her fingers into the underside of his underwear as she bit her lip. It was obvious that she was teasing him.

“Just take it off.” He ordered.

She did as told and practically whimpered as his hard cock was revealed to her. She sat up and reached behind herself to unclasp her bra.

When he saw her perky breasts, he leaned down and kissed her once more. The first time they had sex it was different. It was innocent and timid, but now that he knew her body and she wasn’t so shy anymore, it was more carnal. The first time was about opportunities and their future.

But this, this felt like goodbye.

“I can’t wait, Daisy. I need you.” He confessed as he laid her down all the way. She nodded against his understanding.

He stretched out his left hand to hold onto the headboard while the other grabbed his pulsing shaft. She spread her legs and he slid into her with a long moan.

He looked down at her and watched as she arched her neck back in pleasure, the nails of her left hand digging into his sides.

“Faster.” She moaned.

The other thing that was different about this time was how fast it was. The first time it lasted for almost an hour, they had made love in the most sensual way that left his skin crawling. This time they were both so close so fast, they just needed that release due to being away from each other for so long.

She was practically screaming as he fucked her fast and oh so deliciously into the bed below her. It was so good that after only a few minutes she was looking down at the spot where they both met, her lips formed into a perfect o.

She started nodding quickly. She cried. Bucky groaned as he twitched inside of her, his pleasure growing just as strong as hers. He was right behind her. He put his other arm up on the headboard too, letting his restless hips do all the work.

All that was heard in the room was the sound of skin slapping on skin and their moaning.

He picked up his pace as he stared deeply into the blue orbs. When she shut her eyes she let out a silent scream, and he felt her clench around his cock.

That did it for him. He whimpered.

He increased his speed until he felt his own end approaching, and it was going to be strong. When it did, he groaned, tightening his grips on the headboard, making it bang against the wall behind them. He continuously slammed his hips harsh against her.

“Fuck.” He groaned slipping out of her. She watched in awe and as he stroked himself so fast his hand became a blur - little spurts of white falling over her pretty tummy.

His eye drifted back to her face and he watched as a smile played on her lips. Her face was extremely flushed as she bit her bottom lip in a way that made him want to take her again. He chuckled lightly. It made his heart heavy, and he knew that now was the perfect time to ask her what he had been wanting for the last two years.

He let go of the bed and laid himself next to her. He placed his left hand above her hand and the other on the side of her face. They watched each other in complete love before he kissed her long and hard.

When he pulled away, she felt him slightly shaking and noticed the look of nervousness in his eyes. She swallowed hard.

“Daisy,” he whispered. He traced her features with his hand, and just like that the fear escaped his eyes, and instead of scared he was now feeling complete love and he was ready because knew this is what he wanted forever.

+ +

Diamond ring on her hand, big heart in his chest, Bucky Barnes had been ready to devote his life her and to love.

Life had other plans for him.

Why be a husband when he could be brainwashed into becoming the Head of Hydra?

Why love with his heart and soul when he could kill and become the world’s greatest assassin?

They’re at the New York Library. Steve stands behind him, hands in pocket and eyebrows furrowed together.

70 years later, Bucky detests himself for who he has become. He hates it all. He hates that he woke up.

His hand trembles as he reads the article. It’s worn out, ink faded.

YOUNG WOMAN, FOUND IN HALLWAY, SHOT

Reason unknown, ongoing investigation

The blonde 21 year old was found shot through the skull in the five story building but an other woman after a shot was heard.

The woman states: “There was blood everywhere. It reeked of disaster. The poor girl was always so quiet and sweet.”

Her family has been under investigation after her father’s disappearance —

Bucky’s heart shattered, but those beautiful memories still stayed fresh in his mind.

Present

You watched him from underneath your lashes as his chest slowly moved up and down. He looked deep in thought, as if his mind had been somewhere else, even though he was physically there.

As his eyes examined you across the bed, you wondered what was going through his head.

You were shocked when he stretched out his arm and you felt his hand run through your hair, letting his thumb linger over the back of your neck.

“What does it mean?” He asks. His voice is deep and filled with emotion.

He’s asking about your tattoo.

“Nothing.” You say breathlessly.

His eyes were enthralling.

“There’s no meaning?”

“No.” You eyes leave his and you look out towards the direction of the dining area.

“Why did you get it?” He asks.

“It was in the moment. It felt like it would be thrilling; fun. The thought of forever made it even more so.” You say without a thought, letting your eyes close.

His hands don’t leave the back of your neck, and his touch remains gentle.

“You’re absolutely insane.” His tone has a chirp to it that you’ve never heard before and a near chuckle escapes your chest. He rubs his thumb there again it sends a jolt into your stomach. You open your eyes again to take a peak at him and the looks he’s giving you must’ve triggered something in your own appearance because his eyes furrow together, “What?”

“You reminded me of someone.”

He swallows thickly.

“Yeah?”

“Will.” You feel your throat grow tight at the mention of his name. Bucky senses a change in your tone and he knows that whoever this Will is, he had an impact on your life, “He died just a few days before Fury found me. He was my best friend. He was sweet, humble, funny, sarcastic, optimistic,” there’s a crack in your voice and Bucky’s breath hitches, “I loved Will. He was supposed to be here with me. We were coming to the Capitol together.” Bucky watches you intently as you speak so fondly of your dear friend. Emotions consume him and he’s in a warped daze, right hand that had been on your tattoo running up the side of your face and into your hair, “he was the only friend I ever had.”

Your eyes meet his and he sees in the tears in your eyes. He looks at you confused, fingers tightening in your hair.

“And then after I laid him to rest, I walked into the woods. I was crying and I was angry at him for leaving me. I fell down at slope, hurt my hand and my leg —” Bucky says your name quietly but you ignore him, “it was dark. I was afraid. But I wanted to continue on. Deep down I know I did. I needed to do it for Will. Then this man came and he was going to ruin everything, so I killed him. I had to,” it’s the first time you’re addresses your killing so verbally and so emotionally and it affects you more than you thought, “I had to kill him.” Bucky watches with concern as your fingers tremble against the sheets, “And then Fury found me and took me to your camp. I met Steve, and then I met you.”

Bucky pulls his hand away moments later.

You both lay there in silence. It’s the most you’ve spoken to each other since the night he first fucked you.

After you had sex in the kitchen, you both had separated quietly, going your separate ways until night time. You both slept on opposite sides of the bed and a couple feet apart.

It wasn’t even that it was awkward. There’s was just too much unsaid and still too much tension. You kept falling harder and harder, and you were getting weaker.

The next day you had gone to work and Bucky had found a plan to get into Ashen’s tower.

A day later, you finally spoke again.

At nights it was the hardest. You hated his sudden silence.

You hated that you had no idea what the hell was going on anymore.

Your eyes met in an intense gaze.

Bucky watched curiously as your left hand grazed over the sheets and up over his waist. You watched as his breath hitched, his breathing picking up.

“What the hell are we doing, Bucky?” You asked sincerely.

Part of you genuinely wondered if he was only doing this with you because you were the only girl available.

“Fucking.” He spats out too quickly. He continues to watch you as tug your fingers into the band of his dark grey sweats, “we’re fucking.”

You feel a surge of energy build its way up your body. You don’t know if it’s lust or anger, and it scares you that you can’t distinguish it. You begin to wonder if possibly it’s both.

You move closer into him dragging his sweats down as best as you could. Bucky had to help you by lifting his hips off the bed for a second. He lets out a long breath as his length escapes the confinements of his pants.

Your heart hurts as you take in his glorious body and his face. The face of a boy that you wished could give you more than this, the face of a boy that changed your life.

Because even though he was pure man, you knew deep down inside he still felt young. He felt robbed. You hated that you wanted to take him in any way you could. You hated that you loved making him cum and that he let you.

Eyes darting down to his half soft cock, you lick your bottom lip. You take him into your hand, thumb sliding over his tip. Bucky lets out a tight moan. It comes out heavy and needy.

His reaction gives you a boost and you give him a few languid strokes.

“Over the head, and under it.” He tells you with a gruff. You do as told, watching as pre cum oozes out of his hole. Bucky groans, stretching his right leg out. He mumbles something you can’t make out. Your look up to see him quickly lick his hand and the replace yours with his own over his growing dick, “Like this.” He curved it up towards his body and he teaches you how to stroke. You watch amazed as his flesh hand moves over his cock, noting how where his thumb and pointer finger meet focuses on the edge of the mushroom tip.

You put your hands over his and he lets himself go, letting you take charge again.

The feel of his saliva on your palm over his cock is filthy. Dirty. Fucking sexual.

You mimic his actions from earlier for about a minute until you decide to lick a strip up the underside of his shaft.

You hear him gasp underneath you and a heavy hand meets the back of your head. You look up at him timidly and he’s looking down at you. He looks as sinful as ever. His cheeks are flushed and his mouth is agape. You can’t tell if it’s the pleasure you’re giving him or if he’s shocked.

It kills him how innocent you look with your head between his legs. Your lashes are so long and pretty and, oh, your lips look small plush too. You keep eye contact as you flick the tip of your tongue over his tip and a whine escapes his throat. You do it again, and again.

“Oh my god.” He moans. You take him into your mouth little by little, careful to not let your teeth scrape him.

You bob your head up and down, your right hand stroking what you can’t take down your throat.

You feel his hands pulling your hair into a makeshift pony tail and you groan around him.

“Fuck.” He gasps at the vibrations. One of his hands leave your head but the other stays there, helping you; guiding you.

You sit up up until your butt is in the air, with him still in your mouth, and your place your hands on his thighs. You take a deep breath, and he watches as you lower your head down his cock, as deep as it could go.

The chocking sounds are erotic to both your ears.

Bucky is breathing harder now and he takes your head in both of his hands, running his fingers gently down the sides as he slides you up and off his cock.

When your eyes meet, his looks lust blown. His gaze is briefly on your now swollen lips, and then he composes himself, hands going down to the hem of your white camisole dress.

He helps you pull it off in one go followed by your underwear. As soon as it’s off your feet you go to sit up when he stops you.

He grabs your pillow and places it behind you. You sit back. Bucky gives your body a hungry look as he grabs each of your knees, bending your legs up. He gives them a shove away from each other.

You feel exposed and naked and you know he can see just how soaked you are. You whimper as he slides to fingers up your bare and freshly shaved folds. He lets out his own moan as he gathers your juices onto the tips of his fingers, smearing them over your clit.

Shocked, you watch as he leans down until his front is almost perpendicular to the bed. He kisses the inside of your thigh, nibbling it as he makes his way to your center.

You feel his hot breath against your cunt as he tells you to put you to grab his head.

In a euphoric daze, you do as you’re told. A jolt of pleasure shoots through you as he licks your clit. You feel two of his fingers spread your lips and then he’s licking at you, feeding on you like you’re his favorite meal.

You groan, shoving his head closer to your pussy.

“Oh, shit.” You moan when he enters two flesh fingers into your as he sucks on your bundle of nerves.

Your left leg kicks out as he sucks and sucks. You’re breathless as you look down, the sigh of his head between your thighs being the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Oh, god.” You say.

He looks up at you and you’re gasping. His eyes don’t leave yours as he continues to fuck you with two fingers, the tip of his tongue now flicking at you like mad.

You let out a heavy groan, your head tossing backwards in pleasure.

You feel him pull away and you whimper at the loss of feeling. You feel him grab the side of your waist and he’s pulling you against him until he’s back into the same position he was before.

Bucky leans over the side of the bed and goes into his night stand. You don’t know how to feel when you see him grab a box of condoms.

Did he buy that? Did he know he didn’t want it to be just a one time thing? He didn’t want it to be a one time thing?

You rips box and tosses almost angrily, and when he’s got the foil in his hand, he tears the edge with his teeth.

He slides the condom over his dick and then gently grabs your arms.

“I’ve never…” you stutter as you sit on his lap.

“I know you haven’t, i’ll teach you.” He slides you up and down over his cock, coating it with your slick. You’re leaned over him gasping and he’s grinning his teeth, “You can ride my cock, can’t you?” He purrs up at you so deliciously you have to bite your bottom lip to keep from whimpering, “I want to make you feel good. I want to make you cum. I want us to cum together.”

Your movements quicken as his words turn you on. He takes himself in his hand and rubs his tip up and down over your slit before finally pushing into your heat.

You both groan simultaneously. The pleasure is mutual and you both feel full and satisfied, for the first time. He’s gasping, both hands taking a hold of each side of your face.

He hates what this has become. He hates that his emotions are at an all time high right now.

His eyes look into yours as you move up and down and he remembers why he was so afraid of loving again.

As you move over him, he knows he wouldn’t be able to handle it if something bad were to happen to you. As you fuck yourself on his cock, he knows he can’t fall down that rabbit hole again. He tried so hard to make you hate him and yet here you were, letting him fuck you.

You couldn’t like him. Not emotionally and not physically. It was for your own good. He was bad news, he knew he was.

Everything he touched always got destroyed. It always died.

He was cursed.

Your cunt gives him a perfect squeeze and he shouts.

“God, Y/N.” He cries, grabbing your hips and driving you down faster and harder.

He bends his legs and the sound of your skins hitting echoes around the loft.

Dirty.

Your hand goes to your pussy and you rub yourself furiously.

“Oh yeah.” You moan. He moans back in response, his own hips lifting off the bed to fuck into you.

He tells you to rest your hands on the pillow next to his head and you do so.

He grabs your hips and starts ramming up into you.

Looking down, his face is only a few inches from yours and you wished you could kiss him. You wonder if he can see past your lie of just wanting him for sex. You wanted so much more than an orgasm.

He was killing you.

With one of his ruthless trusts, he hits that spot inside of you that makes you see sparks and you feel your end approaching.

You’re breaths come out of your nose in sharp huffs, fingers curling into the pillow case.

You scream when he leans himself up, taking the side of one of your breasts into his mouth. His nibbles you with a growl.

You know he’s getting close too because his eyebrows are tight together and there’s a thin sheet of sweat over his body.

You cum beautifully over his dick. You know you’re probably shouting but you don’t care because there is absolutely nothing that could ever feel better than this. He helps you drag it out and he rams into you and you look down to see his eyes tightly closed.

You rub a thumb over the tops of his left cheek.

“Cum for me.” You whisper.

His mouth gapes open and he gives you a few more strong thrust before they start to falter. He lets out a loud and animalism grunt, followed by a slap to your right ass cheek.

You’re both panting as you collapse on top of him.

+ +

The building’s security infrastructure was a lot less advanced than Bucky had planned for, which was a great thing. He half expected to have to divert more cameras and more security. Especially for a Hydra centre.

Or maybe he was just that stealthy.

He had commenced his part of the mission earlier in the afternoon than he usually did, but that was because he wanted to see if he could catch Ashen this time.

Just as planned, at three forty five sharp, Ashen and three other man came in through the main entrance.

Bucky, having come in through a weak and dingy window across the building, watched from afar as they took the elevator. On cue, Bucky took the door to the stairwell.

He made it quickly to the seventieth floor until he hear the familiar voice. Waiting until it was far enough and he could no longer hear anything, Bucky stepped out into the hallway.

He makes sure to avoid directly sight of any cameras he sees along the way. So many years as the world’s most dangerous assassin gave him the stealth and experience needed to do it successfully. He would go undetected.

The building was modern and gorgeous. There were glass panels and long hallways. Bucky followed the men from a safe distance until they finally walked into a room, closing the door behind them. Bucky tried to maneuver as best as he could without being seen.

When he turned he saw something that left him stunned.

It was a medical bay, expect that there was just one bed.

He could see Ashen and those few men, who were now adorning lab coats.

What caught Bucky off guard was the little boy laying in the bed, unconscious. There were several tubs and IVs coming in and out of his little body. He was a strange color, almost light green. Ashen sat next to the boy, sad.

Bucky watched carefully as Ashen took the little boy’s hand in his.

“Hey, kiddo. Daddy got you a gift this time. It’s not the usual one you like, but I figured you’d still love it.” Bucky watched as Ashen pulled something out of his suit pocket. It was a Hershey kisses. Ashen placed it on the bed, “You need to wake up, buddy. It’s the only thing left before we can figure this out. Please, Ashens.”

Bucky’s heart sunk as the kid’s father’s head dropped down onto the bed. His hand ran over his head, the other continued to hold onto Ashens’ hand.

“Sir?” One of the men in the lab coats speaks.

“Yes?” Ashen responds.

“We can hold him on the machines for a few more months, but if things don’t start to look up —-”

“I don’t want to hear it. He will wake up. He will stay on the machines until I say otherwise.” He snaps, “We already have Stark technology being detected within the walls, we can’t afford to lose guard now. We are getting closer!”

“Sir—”

“He’s my son!” He shouts.

Bucky starts to back away when he hears someone about to turn the corner. He hides behind one of the walls that lead into a room until the close is clear. He finds his way back the way he came.

He needed to find you.

+ + +

“Pour me a Knob Creek on the rocks, sweetheart.” The man slurs, giving you a nod towards drinks behind you.

You tried not to groan as you gave him a fake smile. You quickly poured him the drink and slid it across the bar to the douchebag who wouldn’t stop eyeing you like a piece of meat.

“I’ll have the same.”

A voice says on the opposite side. You look over and you feel fear creep up in your bones.

Silas.

You nod, hands shaking as pour his drink.

He watches you closely.

“You nervous about something?” He asks.

You let out a shaky chuckle.

“No.” You say bluntly.

You slide him the drink and he takes it, but his eyes don’t leave yours.

“I won’t bite.” He says.

You look away. Shit did he remember you?

“Didn’t think you would.”

You go to turn around when he grabs your wrist. Your blood runs ice cold and your freeze on the spot. You can feel your heart beating away inside of your chest.

His eyes are intense as they stay on you.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” He asks.

You let out another chuckle.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“You’re not a whore?”

His blunt question insults you. You know he means one of the call girls down stairs, but it still bothers you.

“I’m a bartender.” You insist.

“Bartender?” His grip tightens slightly.

He stares into your eyes and you feel threatened.

Did he remember?

“Hey, everything alright out here?” You turn around, relieved to see Pietro behind you.

Silas quickly lets go of you and returns to his drink.

Pietro looks up from your wrist to Silas with a raised brow.

Your heart only calms down a bit before you clear your throat.

“You okay, Marina?” He asks you in the corner where Silas won’t hear.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Pietro doesn’t believe you and you can tell by the way he looks at you.

“If you ever have any issues with anyone here, please let me know.” You nod, “Good. Have a good night, you did good today.”

You give him another short nod, still unable to breathe properly.

+ +

Bucky was standing out on the balcony when you came home. He looked to be deep in thought about something so you gave him the space he needed. You avoided the bedroom and instead hung out for a bit on the couch, trying to process what happened tonight and how you would tell Bucky. You knew for certain he was going to flip out. Or maybe it was just your paranoia and he would tell you to relax and that you were overreacting.

You weren’t sure what would happen.

Bucky doesn’t decided to come inside until you’re in the kitchen grabbing some left over take out from yesterday. He stands in the entrance for a few seconds before sitting down at the table behind you.

“We need to talk.” He says.

You wait a few seconds before sitting in front of him. He’s looking down at his hand on his leg instead of at you.

He bites his lip and scoffs, disappointedly.

What was going on?

He stands up, runs his hands through his hair and begins to pace around.

“We shouldn’t have done this. Any of this. It was a mistake. I knew it would’ve been bad. A distraction. We shouldn’t have done this.” His mumbling under his breath and not making any sense to you.

“Bucky, what’s going on?” You ask quietly and concerned.

He walks over to the counter and slams his flesh fist on it.

“What the fuck are we doing?” He shouts, “We’re supposed to be working, focusing on this mission, and instead,” he spins around pointing out the kitchen, “instead we’re out there fucking, Y/N. We’re acting like a bunch of fucking animals, humping each other’s brains out!”

“Bucky —”

“I knew, I knew this would’ve been a bad decision. I fucking knew I shouldn’t have let this happen.”

“You need two people to have sex, Bucky.”

“You should have never told me you wanted to fuck me.”

“I never told you to fuck me. I was only telling you how I feel. That’s all I’ve been doing this entire time.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have.”

“You’re the one who told me you wanted to fuck me, Bucky! You’re the one that bought a fucking damn box of condoms while I was taking a damn shower!” You’re angry now as you stand up from the chair, “Don’t you dare tell me this was all me or all you, this was both of us.” You jammed a finger into his chest, “You bought me fucking plan B just so I couldn’t get pregnant with your damn child and then you fucked me again not even an hour later. Don’t you fucking dare.” You can feel the tears in your eyes.

He grabs your fingers and walks you back until your back is against the wall. He snarls down at you.

“Then fuck it. We like to fuck. Either it’s me or you or both us, fine. But we shouldn’t have done it.”

You want to push him away from you as you feel repulsed by him.

“Yeah? Was that what was going through your mind as you were shoving my head down your cock, Barnes? Making me choke on it? Or when you fucked me up against our window so our neighbors could see? I don’t have to fuck you ever again.”

“Good —!”

“—I literally told you I loved you and you attacked me for it—”

“—because it’s obviously only making everything worst—”

“—I then sleep with you, I gave you my virginity, and you have the audacity to stand here and say I seduced you when I gave you my innocence!” You shoved him away and he stumbled back. Your face felt red and you feel furious. You were shocked you weren’t crying, even though you felt like it, “Huh?” You give me another shove, “How fucking evil are you? You gaslighting piece of shit.”

He looked at you after that and your breathing was the only thing that could be heard. His face was stern and turned into a scowl as he looked down at you.

“I’m evil?” You took deep breaths through your nose to control yourself, “No, yeah you’re right, I am. I know I’m a piece of shit. I’m abnormal.” He spat the same words out you had used against him the other day, “I’m so damn evil, Y/N, that I’d rather try and focus on this damn mission than worry about getting laid.” You’re both breathing hard now. He takes a deep breath before continuing, “Yeah, maybe before I was thinking with my cock instead of my head, but it needs to stop now. Last night was the last time.”

You could feel your heart thundering away inside of you. You squinted your eyes at him, seeing the underlying discomfort in his eyes.

“What happened today?” You ask slowly, carefully. He doesn’t answer you and you start to get angry again, “I come home, I found you outside looking all depressed and now you’re in here snapping at me about focusing on the mission. What. Happened. Today?” You emphasize through clenched teeth. He takes a deep breath again, looking away from you he runs a hand through his hair and turns away from you.

“They know we’re here. We weren’t careful enough.” He says.

Your heart falls into the pit of your stomach along with your worst fears.

“What?”

“They know we’re here! I fucking followed them and I overheard them. We either weren’t careful enough or —- I don’t know!” He’s pacing again, “Your parent’s must’ve put in some kind of tracker to make the capitol aware or something of stark technology or maybe Hydra pre installed something. Whatever it is, they know we are here, and for all I know they could be watch us right now. We fucked up.”

You watch him as he stresses over this. He grabs at his hair.

“They don’t know it’s us, Bucky. If they did they’ve would’ve caught us by now.” You tick your jaw as you watch the muscles in his back flex, “Something happened at work today, too. I think Silas remembered me.”

Bucky scoffs, turning around again to face you.

“There’s no way he remembers you. We wiped him.”

“Maybe you’re right, but he was acting off. He came to order a drink and he grabbed me —”

“He grabbed you?”

“Just my hand. I was fine. Pietro showed up, sensed the tension, and Silas backed off.”

“Fuck.”

You take a deep breath, stepping away from Bucky.

“You’re right,” you eye him up and down, “We can’t let it happen again. We need to focus on this and I’m already exhausted from you.”

“Exhausted from me?” His voice is a low timber now, the anger from before having died over.

“You don’t even know the amount of emotional turmoil you put me through, do you?” He continues to stare at you quietly and you take another step towards him, “You took something I can never get back.” You say quietly, “And it’s up for you to decide what that something is.”

+ + +

@snakeeatery17 @utterlyhopeful-fics , @marvelfan1017, @iheartsebastianstan , @annathesillyfriend , @redhairedfeistynerd, @perksofbeingabookworm, @amyrose051, @meegggoooo, @morganclaire4 , @captainchrisstan, @bxndys , @shoesonpointe , @writerwrites, @rainbowkisses31, @lindatreb , @littlemissner98 , @dezzylou24, @ayeitslelee , @hardygal69 , @emmabarnes , @redbarn1995@thequeenreaders@ilovemysupersoldiers@maximumplaidzonknerd@ceapa-mica @s-trawberryv-eins@buckysknifecollections@sobangie @lindatreb@theseuscmander @nervous-plant @wildmoonflower @aya-fay@appreciating-fanfics @kaitlynisinfinite @justreadingfics@kaitieskidmore1 @mrsdancing

#bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes smut #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes series #Bucky Barnes x you #Bucky Barnes x y/n #captain American fanfic #the falcon and the winter soldier fanfic #tfatws fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut

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pillar--of--salt · 3 years

Text

This is for @soreidy27 who asked for this prompt: “Mike gets injured or attacked and Nadine has to come to terms with her feelings for him”. I have no idea if this fulfills that—I suspect it might, but only if you squint. In any case, I hope you like it!

She never dates men who are any good for her, and this doesn’t seem to be a habit Nadine will break any time soon.

This has been the case since she was fourteen and letting older boys drive her around in their car, getting them to buy her beer, asking them if she can smoke their pot. Now, Nadine is fifty-five and though she doesn’t smoke marijuana anymore, she’s still no closer to giving up the men she knows she has no business dating.

If she ever had time for therapy, maybe she could work her way through why this is.

This thing she’s doing with Mike wasn’t supposed to be anything, really. On again, off again—just a way to work some stress relief into her schedule whenever she thinks a little stress relief might do her some good. It isn’t about their work or his political capital or her career moves. Maybe she could use him for all of those things, but she doesn’t because she doesn’t have to. From a professional standpoint, there’s nothing he can provide her that she can’t already get for herself.

At the end of the day he isn’t the worst choice she’s ever made. (That honor almost certainly goes to Vincent Marsh, with no threat of it being toppled by any other person Nadine could possibly try next.)

The fact that they work together makes it a little tricky but it also makes it convenient, and she thinks that’s an acceptable trade off. He’s a colleague, but he’s outside of her reporting hierarchy, so that’s fine. He’s an asshole, but not to her, so that’s okay too. He’s always around when she wants; and when she wants, he’s always willing.

The problem however, one she has only recently begun to see, is that he seems to be on a completely different page than her about what they are doing here.

She doesn’t realize this until Daisy points it out to her.

“He’s falling in love with you, you know.”

Nadine looks up from her computer blankly. Daisy stares right back. Her face is impassive. “What?” Nadine says finally.

“Mike B. He’s falling in love with you, and you’re just letting it happen.”

Nadine rolls her eyes. “He is not.”

“He is, and if you were paying any attention to him, you’d have seen this coming a mile away,” Daisy says. “But you’re not paying attention because you think it’s just about sex, or… whatever you think it’s about. Like he couldn’t possibly have any feelings or anything.”

“Watch your voice,” Nadine warns, her eyes darting to her open door. “And you don’t get to speak to me like that when you’re sitting in my office, unless you’d like to be sitting there while I fire you.” It’s an empty threat and they both know it.

Daisy is the only one who knows about them, and isn’t that just a mistake Nadine should have done a better job avoiding. Privately, Nadine thinks that the younger woman is so desperate for a love story that she could practically fabricate one out of thin air; find subtext where there isn’t any, produce romance where there’s none to be had.

“You’re using him,” Daisy insists. “And I just… I think that’s kind of shitty of you, if you’re doing it on purpose. He really likes you, Nadine, and if you don’t feel the same way, you need to cut him loose before one of you gets hurt.” Before he gets hurt, she means.

“Daisy…” Nadine sighs and rubs her brow, feeling the beginnings of a headache settling behind her eyes. “Get out,” she says evenly.

Daisy doesn’t even flinch, just gets up to leave. At the door, she says, “You know I’m right. Just think about it.”

Nadine tries to re-focus on the report in front of her.

She isn’t… she isn’t using him. She isn’t using him and if she is, it isn’t on purpose. Nadine just doesn’t always know what she’s doing when it comes to men, and this is no different. She wonders what it is she lacks that makes it so difficult for her to know what she wants and doesn’t want, what quality she’s missing that she has so much trouble differentiating between the two. Because this isn’t her first time on this particular ride. She wonders what has to change, and if she’s even capable of changing.

She does like Mike, she’s pretty sure. But more than that she likes what they have and she doesn’t want that to change if it doesn’t have to.

But maybe Daisy has a point.

Nadine considers it for a moment, drumming her fingers on her desk. Finally, she pulls up Mike’s contact on her phone.

As the line begins to ring through, Nadine sees a sudden flurry of activity down the hall. She frowns, getting up to follow. On this floor, people rushing en masse is never a good sign. As she walks down the hall, she sees the tail of Jay’s suit disappear into the smaller conference room, so she heads in that direction.

At her ear, Mike’s phone puts her through to voicemail. She leaves a distracted message as she walks. “Um, hi Mike. It’s Nadine. Call me when you get this, I think… I think we need to talk—”

“Nadine,” Daisy calls when she sees her walking up. Daisy is standing inside the conference room with the TV remote in her hand, and the sharp urgency in her voice pulls Nadine’s attention immediately.

Nadine pulls the phone away from her ear without remembering to hang up. She steps into the conference room next to Jay, who looks stunned, and Matt, who is speechless. All three of them have their eyes fixed grimly on the news report playing out on the television.

“—have breached the US Capitol. Police state that several shots have been fired into the chamber, resulting in several wounded and report of at least three people who have sustained critical injuries. It is unclear at this stage if—”

Daisy looks at her. “Wasn’t Mike supposed to speak in front of Congress today?” The question is unnecessary. He was; they all know he was.

Nadine’s phone slips out of her hand. And she feels her heart plummet like a stone.

#madam secretary #nadine tolliver #mike b #Nadine and Mike #fanfic #drabbles

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steppedoffaflight · 3 years

Text

Summer’s a Knife - Epilogue

Catch up on Chapter 16 here

But everything feels different. Falling in love has changed everything. It sounds ridiculous, even to you, because in reality you and Van have only been together just shy of three months. But something about returning to the city where you first met him in that crowded bar has your heart feeling raw. This past year has been the craziest- but no doubt best- one of your life. Tomorrow it’ll be one full year since you swallowed your inhibitions down, letting Van lead you back to his hotel room. When you recall it you can still feel the adrenaline rush that had poured through you at his proposition, your pounding heart echoing the memory.

Word count: ~3.5k

Epilogue

January 2020

“Are you ready?” You yell up the staircase, before sighing to yourself in exasperation, turning to your own things. Your luggage is opened up all over the floor by the front door, and you’re meticulously double-checking that you’ve got everything packed.

You’re scouring over one of your bags when you hear Van’s heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. He’s got a duffle bag slung over one shoulder, his MacBook open and glowing in one of his hands. It wobbles with each step down, and you practically feel nauseous from Van’s carelessness.

“How can you hold that in one hand?” You ask, shaking your head. “What if you tripped?”

Van rolls his eyes playfully, but doesn’t bother with a response. He lets his duffle come to rest by the base of the stairs, proceeding towards the sectional so that he can flop down with his computer.

“I literally just bought a new mascara,” You complain. No matter how many times you’ve searched your things, it hasn’t magically appeared. “Have you seen it?”

Van is engrossed in his screen, not hearing a word you said.

“Babe?” You ask a bit louder, snapping him to attention.

“What?”

“Have you seen my mascara? I just bought it yesterday and I thought I left the bag on the coffee table.”

“Oh, yeah,” Van gestures absently toward the hall. “I put it in the bathroom.”

“The one down here?” You ask incredulously, rising from where you’re kneeling on the floor. Sure as shit, your brand new tube of mascara is still in its cardboard packaging on the sink in the bathroom down the hall.

“I don’t know why you’d put it in there,” You scold him, annoyed. “You know I don’t keep anything down here!”

Van sighs. “I obviously didn’t know that,” He replies, terse. “I thought I was putting it away. You know I’m still trying to figure everything out.”

You let out your own tense exhale, but drop the argument. Learning to live together these past two months hasn’t exactly been a dream, but Van was right. He was trying. You were both trying. Trying to learn each other’s daily routines, trying to divide household duties equally, trying to work with each other’s quirks. Still, you wouldn’t trade getting to wake up next to Van every morning for anything.

And by every morning, that meant every morning. Because the band’s touring schedule is no joke, and once you and Van were established you realized that the trajectory of your career was going to have to make some adjustments. That’s how a few discussions with Denise lead to you finally being promoted, and to a position that allowed you to work from home well over a majority of the time. Any obligations you needed to be in the office for were going to be planned in advance, so by the summer you’d be done being mentored and you’d be free to travel with Van.

“Wanna see the mockups?” Van interrupts your thoughts.

“You got the mockups?” You ask excitedly, tossing the mascara into your suitcase before heading for the couch. “Yes I wanna see!”

You plop down next to him, snuggling into his side. He’s looking at a file Capitol has just sent him with full mockups of a few different options for the CD sleeves.

THE SUMMER, the spines of the CD sleeves read in each of the files. It looks so official, seeing the album title next to the Capitol Records logo. It feels like only yesterday when Van tried to be nonchalant when he mentioned to you that he’d been pitching that as the album name to the boys. It had completely stunned you then, and it still feels surreal now.

Because the album’s about you, you’ve learned. Almost all of the eleven tracks are dedicated to Van telling the story of your relationship, from that magical night in San Diego, to him drinking away the pain of missing you on the night of his birthday. There’s a song about the steamy encounter you two had in the car during your road trip to Phoenix, and the last track on the album details that night things almost ended, but instead became the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

“Gone is still the best,” You tell him, spotting where they’d decided to put it on the tracklist. It’s two up from the bottom, which feels appropriate. It was a ballad, Van wailing soulfully about the guilt that hangs over him from leaving his parents high and dry in order to make his music career work. His parents haven’t heard it yet, but you were in tears when Van played it for you. It’s just his voice and the piano, and you’re sure the fans will love it like you do. He’s nestled it between two upbeat tracks, always careful to keep things on a positive note.

Van snorts, no doubt remembering your messy tears while you sat next to him on the piano bench in the studio that one afternoon. “Which cover do you like best?” He asks, flashing you the different options.

The cover for this album was a lobster, symbolic of the lobster dinner Van got the night he took you to dinner. Tim had done one illustration that looked more like the alligator from The Ride, and one that was more of an outline like The Balance, and a few variations of each. You chew the inside of your cheek as you examine them carefully.

“That one,” You say quickly when Van scrolls past the sleeve with the Ride-esque realistic sketch. “If the lobster was doing something, like how the toucan’s sipping that drink, I’d say that. But I like this one.”

Van takes in your opinion, nodding very seriously. “I’ll have to ask the lads, we can all take a vote.”

There’s a moment of quiet contemplation as Van looks over the tracklist for what was probably the millionth time.

You’re still taking in the details of the cover, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that Van has immortalized so many details of your life in an actual, physical thing that people would soon be hearing, when your phone vibrates loudly against the mantle. You leap up, knowing it’s Mary before you even see the screen.

“Are you ready?” Mary asks on speakerphone, her voice bringing Van’s focus back to the task at hand.

“I’m ready,” You tell her, relieved to be free of any blame. “Are you ready, Van?”

“I only need a second!” He shouts loud enough so that Mary can hear him. “Lemme send this email!”

“Hurry up!” Her voice cuts through the living room. “You and Theo are the worst!”

“Oi!” Van shouts in indignation, but then there’s the beep of Mary disconnecting, clearly not entertaining any of Van’s excuses.

“I’ll take my stuff to the car,” You say as Van taps away at his keyboard. “Where’s the keys?”

“Kitchen,” Van murmurs, distracted, and you head around the corner to grab them from the kitchen island.

You zip your bags closed and sling your purse over your shoulder, hauling them out of the front door and onto the driveway. There are some birds chirping in the privacy bamboo, and a few scatter from their hiding spots as they’re startled by you opening up the back hatch of the Range Rover.

The sun is beaming down from it’s glowing spot in the bright blue morning sky, a stark contrast to the climate you’ve spent your January birthday in when you lived in your hometown. You’re used to giant snowdrifts, freezing temperatures, a snow day off of school if you were lucky. You should be used to this by now; balmy birthday weekends that commence with packing up for the traditional San Diego trip.

“I’m ready, I’m ready!” The screen door clatters behind Van, snapping you away from memory lane. He sets his duffel bag down by your feet before heading back to the front door. He reaches under the welcome mat for the spare key before locking the door securely and tucking it back.

“Put it in the rock!” You call, slamming the trunk shut after you’ve loaded Van’s bag in with yours. But Van is already sliding into the driver’s seat, so that means you have to stomp up to the welcome mat, taking the key and reaching into the mulch by the front door for the hide-a-key rock you’d purchased for this purpose.

Van is probably rolling his eyes at you, but you can’t see through his sunglasses as you hop into the passenger seat. The car is sweltering, and Van immediately gets the air conditioning going while you get settled for the long ride ahead of you.

Leaving now, you shoot a text to Mary.

Theodore is literally showering, Mary responds with three eye-rolling emojis. But we’ll be out of here soon.

You send a laughing emoji in response as you two pull out of the gate.

Van makes a pit stop at a nearby gas station right before you two hit the highway so he can fill the gas tank while you go inside to collect the largest bottle of water they sell, two packs of cigarettes, a soft drink, and various snacks to hold you two over.

Traffic is light when you two finally get going, Van easily zooming towards San Diego as the early-afternoon sun blazes down on the cement, guiding your way.

“It’s gonna be so weird to be back,” You grin, Van turning the radio down so he can hear what you’re saying.

“Christ, I know,” Van’s beaming too, his hand straying from the steering wheel to intertwine his fingers with yours. You give them an excited squeeze.

“What were you doing alone at that bar, anyway?” You decide to ask while you’re lost in nostalgia.

“I wasn’t alone!” Van chuckles. “I was having drinks with Bond, but he decided to call it a night and I wanted to finish my drink.”

“Wait, you were with Bondy?” You grin, shifting in your seat to give him your full attention, eager for more details. “Was Bondy with you when we sat down?”

“We came in after you,” Van tells you. “We weren’t getting anything to eat so they seated us straight at the bar.”

“And then he left?”

“Yeah. We had a couple’a drinks and then he left, and I was finishing my beer.”

It’s so strange to think of the way every single person around you is running on their own timeline. Every single person at that bar had their own reasons for going, their own company (or lack thereof). It’s strange that so many people can coincidentally gather in the same place, whether it’s for a burger after a long drive or a beer after putting on a show at the House of Blues.

“But when Mary said you were looking at… us, she said you were alone,” You point out, hesitating over the word us. You really had no idea if it was you that Van had been staring at. Secretly you had a suspicion sometimes that he was actually staring at Mary.

“Well, yeah. Bond was gone, I was sort of just looking around.”

“But we stayed for, like, two hours after our food was gone. So you finished one beer for two hours?”

At this Van snorts. “No, I wasn’t drinking one beer for two fucking hours.”

“Gimme these,” You murmur, leaning forward to steal his sunglasses off of his face, annoyed that he was able to hide his expression behind them. You use them to push the hair out of your face.

“What’d you do that for?” He pouts, gesturing to the road. “It’s so fucking bright out!”

“The sun’s not even in your face!” You argue. “And anyway, what were you doing if you weren’t finishing one beer for two hours?”

Van sighs in exasperation. “Well, I was finishing my beer, and we caught each other’s eye, didn’t we? So I couldn’t exactly leave, could I?”

“When did we catch each other’s eye?” You cry incredulously. “Mary said you were staring at me!”

“I thought you had looked over at me! I kept seeing you grab drinks at the bar and I felt like we were noticing each other, I dunno. And then I saw you whispering with Mary, and she was staring at me dead-on, so I knew you were talking about me. So at that point I thought eh, I’ll stick around for a sec.”

You chew the inside of your cheek, trying to hide your pleased smile. “And then what?”

“You walked to the bathroom.” Van’s voice has an edge of hesitation in it, like he’s reluctant to reveal his side of the events. “And got about three inches away from me, and we made eye contact again, so, I dunno. I thought we were on the same page.”

“And then you stalked me back to the hotel?” You ask, your eyes widening. Your theory had been right all along!

“No!” Van cries, looking over at you with his brows furrowed. “No, I didn’t stalk you! What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You stayed until the bar closed! And then we walked back to the same hotel!”

“When you sat down again you walked the most roundabout way around me! So I accepted we weren’t on the same wavelength, and ordered my last drink and then I was ready to call it a night. But then it was last call.” He glares at you from the driver’s seat. “Everyone had to leave. It had nothing to do with you!”

“Yeah, okay,” You groan in surrender, your stalking theory finally laid to rest.

“And that’s it.” Van shrugs one shoulder. “I saw you guys head inside the hotel, I went around to have a smoke before I headed up to bed. Then Theo suddenly comes around, and the rest is history, I guess.”

You think over his version of events, still worrying the inside of your cheek. “Huh,” You say finally. “I sort of thought you were staring at Mary and just settled for me.”

“What?” Van shakes his head. “First of all, it’s very clear wherever they go that Mary and Theo are with each other. Second of all, I thought you were proper fit from the get-go.”

“Proper fit,” You mock him, reaching down by your feet for your pack of cigarettes. “As if. I’m ugly,” You say as you crack your window and light a cigarette.

Van rolls his eyes. “So fit I couldn’t even keep it in my pants.”

“You really couldn’t,” You agree. Knowing Van’s sexual history now, a spur-of-the-moment one night stand had actually been very out of character for him. “But I guess I decided to be some sort of impulsive, sexually empowered alter ego that night, so who am I to talk.”

Van tips his head back briefly to let out a loud laugh. “I really can’t believe you’d never had a one night stand. I would’ve never guessed.”

“My first and only,” You say in exaggerated sweetness, reaching over with the hand not holding your cigarette to pinch him lightly where his dimple is poking through on his cheek.

Van shrugs your arm away with a laugh, switching lanes to rush past someone who was actually going to speed limit.

You’re still gazing at his face, your whole body warm with love. “I love you,” You tell him. Just because you can. Just because it’s not a secret anymore.

“I love you,” Van responds instinctually, like it’s the easiest thing in the world for him to put into words. His words still send the butterflies in your stomach into a tiff. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to hearing them.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Van breaks your dreamy trance, peeking over at you quickly. “In the email they said they wanted to push Arizona as the first single.”

“No way,” You grin, trying to imagine how the song might fit with the current music Van’s alternative radio stations are always spinning. You still avoid listening to them, much more inclined to switch on the Taylor Swift album you keep stashed in the CD player when you drive. But then again, Catfish has never bothered with radio trends, so you suppose it didn’t matter.

“What do you think?” You press when he doesn’t respond.

Van shrugs. “I think it’s a great single. Me and Benj really rooted for it. Just wondering how you feel about it.”

There’s an edge of unease in his voice, and you suspect it’s because of all of the personal details in the song. While Van clearly didn’t mind airing out his every thought and emotion to the public, he’s known you long enough now to know that’s not the case for you.

You stay quiet, mentally running through the song in your mind. You peer out the window, watching the highway rush past in a blur, remembering that ride to Phoenix. Van had encapsulated it in stunning detail, from the conversation where you two exposed your deepest regrets to the strange sight of rain in the desert, the chill in the air from the pounding rain and the way you two had intimately warmed up.

“I think it sums up the album perfectly,” You tell him finally, giving him a bright smile. Van’s raw, blistering storytelling mixed with the upbeat, summery melody seemed like the perfect synopsis of what listeners should expect of The Summer.

And if a few details about your deepest secrets and sex life were broadcast around the world? Well, you suppose you’ll have to get used to it, because if this thing with Van plays out the way you’re hoping then he’ll be writing about you for a long, long time.

“I think so too,” Van nods, the tension dropping out of his shoulders. He turns the radio back up, settling back into his seat to focus on driving again.

You go back to looking out of the window, watching the buildings bordering the highway melt into each other, the other cars on the road radiating heatwaves. You’re still stuck on memories of the Phoenix trip, remembering that moment of realization that you were in love with Van. With the conversation you two had had on the way, and seeing Van be so sweet to Charlie, in hindsight you realize you never stood a chance.

Are you happy? You distinctly remember Van asking, and how you’d scrambled for an answer, realizing too late that you weren’t sure.

But now there was no question. Only the steady, content happiness that felt like it was always glowing around you. Of course shit in your life still went wrong, but now at the end of the day you got to cry about a work blunder in the arms of the person you loved the most. You’d be working remotely soon, free to visit your family whenever your heart desired, and you’d also be getting to travel. Not to mention the pay raise, and the fact you could devote a lot more of your income to your savings and paying off your student loans now that you lived with Van. Even your friend circle had expanded; you were closer than ever with the girls at work, and along with Van your circle had expanded to include the rest of the boys. The band also had a Newcastle tour date scheduled in the summer, and Bondy hasn’t been able to stop talking about the night out you were all going to have with Sam and his band.

“I love you,” You blurt out again, fluttery with that feeling that everything in your life was going oh so right.

“Christ, I love you too,” Van snorts, poking your thigh playfully.

“How fast are you going?” You ask as you realize he’s passing every car around you two at lightning speed.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m trying to get to the hotel before everyone else so I can get some time alone with you,” He grins, stealing his sunglasses out of your hair so he can pull them over his eyes again.

You accept his excuse. “Okay, well in that case I’m gonna take a nap.” You finish up your cigarette, rolling your window up before you reach for Van’s sweatshirt that he’d tossed in the back seat, pulling it on before you slump down in your seat, trying to get comfortable. “Don’t crash,” You warn him, closing your eyes. The sun coming through the car windows makes the inside of your eyelids a bright orange.

“I’ll try not to.”

A/N: I am so incredibly grateful for these last 17 weeks on tumblr sharing this story with you all. My biggest hope is that this was able to bring a little bit of positivity or happiness to you in any way possible. I have endless gratitude for fenderswift, my absolute best friend in the world, for all of her support through this entire process. This fic would not be here out on the internet without her convincing, and being able to share this story with you all has been one of the best things to happen to me this year so I can’t say THANK YOU enough. THANK YOU to everyone who has read, to everyone who has sent me an ask, who has joined me and fenderswift in our love for this universe. The kind words you’ve sent me stick with me, and I’m so excited to keep living in this universe. This is definitely not the end for these two. There is much more to come!

#summer's a knife #catfish and the bottlemen #catfish and the bottlemen fic #catb #catb fic #van mccann #van mccann fic #van mccann fanfiction #vanfic #thank you thank you thank you!!!!!

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concealeddarkness13 · 3 years

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WHG 15 Post-Games Brains and Brawn Part 4

This is a day or two after part 3! Tagging: @sparkles-and-hens, @knmartinshouldbewriting, @maple-writes (also thanks for Skyler!), @pen-of-roses, @thoughts-of-nora, and @ratracechronicler!

Churi was looming over me as Triel’s crew was being tortured behind me. I jumped up, trying to get around him, but he just pushed me back down and grabbed my hair. He pulled me up by my hair and laughed. “You think you could escape again? You fool girl. You’re my property. I won’t ever let you go, and anyone who tries to protect you will be destroyed.”

I scratched at him, tried to loosen his grip, but he just kept laughing and laughing…

I woke up with a gasp and sat up. Shit. It had just been a nightmare, but I still sat there, hunched over, shaking. Churi would never leave me alone. I would never be free of him. Sobs escaped my lips, and I curled up on myself tighter. Was I just endangering everyone more by being here? I was a liability. I couldn’t even fight to defend anyone. I was useless.

The door cracked open, and I grabbed my knife that was under my pillow. Until I noticed that it was just Skyler. But why did he open the door? Was there trouble? I lowered my knife and quickly wiped my eyes to get rid of any traces of tears. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

He stared at me. “Uh, you tell me.”

Oh shit. He had heard me. I frowned. “What? I’m fine.”

“You think I’m an idiot?” Double shit.

Time to distract. I set my jaw. “What are you doing up anyway?”

He leaned against the doorframe. “I…I couldn’t sleep.” Sounded like he had bad dreams too.

I nodded. “Me neither…But just because I had too much caffeine. Do you want to walk it out?” I needed to get my mind off the nightmare anyway.

He nodded back. “I know somewhere nice.”

Oh boy! I jumped up. This would be awesome! A nice distraction.

He led me out of the building and down a few blocks to an actual airship! I had been on Triel’s, but seeing another one would be awesome! I smiled and just stared at it.

“This is ours.” He opened the door and hopped in, turning around to help me get in. Which was probably good, since I wouldn’t be able to do that on my own with my leg injuries.

Once we were inside, I grinned and ran my hands along the walls. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thanks.” He closed the door behind me. “Volt says she stole it years ago.”

“That’s awesome!” Wait. I paused and frowned a little. “Wait, how do you steal an airship? Isn’t it kind of hard to hide it well?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. She and Rick won’t talk about it very much.” He led the way into the cockpit where he sat down and checked some of the gauges. “Paint? I never asked.”

Paint was probably correct. I watched him for a little bit and cocked my head. I didn’t know anything about airships. “What are you checking for?”

“There was something wrong with the ventilation system a while ago, but it seems to be holding up now.” He got up and stretched. “I can show you around.”

Awesome! I grinned. “Thanks! I love airships! I just don’t know much about them, so I might ask dumb questions.”

He smiled. “It’s not that big so it won’t take long.” He brought me to a room that had a table and some couches. It looked so cozy! “This is the living room, and there’s a little kitchen off over that way.” He pointed to a doorway off to the side.

Damn. I hadn’t realized it, but I was hungry. “Ooh! Is there popcorn? I tried it earlier, and it’s now my favorite food.”

“Maybe?” He ducked into the kitchen and came back with a bag of the awesome stuff, and he handed it to me. “Don’t know how long it’s been here.”

“Holy shit,” I whispered. I stuffed some in my mouth and smiled. It was sweet! I hadn’t eaten sweet popcorn before. I offered some to him. He had to try it.

He took some, but he made a face after he ate it. How could he do that about such an awesome food? “This must have been Rick’s. He likes sweet things more than I do.” Oh. Understandable. He waved me on, and we kept walking.

We walked through a narrow hallway with doors on either side. Skyler pointed out the rooms as we walked. “This is Volt’s room, and this is Rick’s, and this one is storage…” He paused in front of a room at the end of the hallway. “And this one’s mine.” He opened the door to a small, cozy room. “I think it used to be more storage or some kind of prep area since the hatch to the cargo hold and engine rooms are in the corner here.” He nodded at a hatch in the floor in the far corner.

The engines! That was so cool! I grinned. “This is awesome! It’s so small and safe.” I walked over to inspect the hatch. “I’ve never seen the engines of an airship before. Shine doesn’t let me down there.” I glanced over at him, trying to plead with my eyes.

It must have worked. “Just don’t fuck with anything.” He opened up the hatch and led the way down the ladder. We passed through a mostly empty cargo hold before we made it into a room with tons of machines.

I grinned. “This is awesome!” I yelled the last word to hear it reverberate against the machines. “I can’t believe this is all it needs to fly! I’d never want to come down.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. “Have you uh, ever flown in one?”

“A little in Triel’s, but I’ve only been with her for a month. I hadn’t thought it would last that long with how much the Shades were hunting me. But Triel had covered her tracks well.” I paused as I rubbed at the scars from my time with the Shades. Why was I even saying this? But I still continued. “I didn’t think I’d ever escape them again this last time.”

“We can take a short flight, if you want. It’s probably best to get it running since it’s been a while.”

I grinned, pushing the other thoughts away. “That would be amazing! I love flying! Thanks!”

He led me back to the cockpit and pointed at another seat, while he sat in the seat he had been in before. “Don’t touch anything.” I sat down as he mumbled something to himself while he started up the airship. I just stared as the airship lifted up, high above the Capitol. It was amazing! The Capitol just looked like a group of glittering lights in the darkness.

He glanced over at me. “What do you think?”

I couldn’t stop staring at the Capitol. “It’s beautiful. I never thought the Capitol could look beautiful. But it does from above.”

“It’s nicer from here.” The airship started to gently move forward, and I grinned wider. This was just so amazing! I couldn’t stop staring at the world below.

At least until he spoke again. “What happened with the shades?”

Shit. I froze for a bit before I smiled over at him. “What do you mean? I’m not scared of shade.”

He frowned, his eyes flitting to where my scars were. Double shit. “You know what I meant.”

Well, I had to explain now. I opened my mouth to do so a few times, but I couldn’t find my voice for a bit. “They—they took me when I was a child and gave me this stupid magic. And then tortured me when I ‘had the gall’ to fight back against their control. I only just escaped a few months ago. And then I had to go back as a victor, and they took me back.” My voice was getting faster and faster as I spoke. “And I fucked everything up because if I could have just not let the crew know what was going on, they would have forgotten about me and helped rescue everyone else instead.” I stopped myself and tensed. I had said way the hell too much. He hadn’t asked me for my life story. “I’m sorry. You don’t really care.” I looked away from him, back out at the Capitol.

It took him a bit to say anything. “I…I do. Care, I mean,” he mumbled. “That’s…A lot.”

I swallowed hard. Why the hell would he care? “Well…thanks for caring. And…I had a nightmare about them. That’s why I was up. Not because of caffeine.”

He nodded out of the corner of my eye, pausing again before he spoke. “Yeah. Me too.”

Sometimes, it felt good to talk about things. And I could not confirm nor deny if that was the case for me this time. But I wanted to offer the opportunity to him. I glanced over at him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He stiffened and hesitated, and when he spoke, it was even quieter than before. “My mother handed me over to Indigo one day and I thought she was just taking me for a few days but then she told me what was going on and her people came and took me and kept me in a little room and I didn’t know what was going to happen.” He took a long, shaky breath. Shit. I couldn’t imagine that. “I don’t remember a lot. I figured out they put something in my food to keep me easier to handle but they were still rough, and mean and scary.”

What could I say to that? Comfort wouldn’t be any help. And I sucked at comfort anyway. I sucked in a breath. “I couldn’t imagine that,” I whispered. Churi had always been honest about what he was going to do. That was the one thing I could say about him that was positive in a twisted way. “I really will punch her in the face if I see her again.”

“Most of the time they would talk about me but not really to me like I was more of a thing, or maybe a pet.” He glanced at me. “They didn’t cut me up like you though so I don’t know. There’s that.”

Comparing pain? Nah. I wasn’t going to let that happen. “At least they had always been pretty honest in what they were going to do to me. So, there’s that.” I stared at the Capitol and crossed my arms. It didn’t look so pretty anymore. “But I understand being treated as not human. Churi would always call me his property.”

He cringed at my last sentence. “I think the only reason they didn’t hurt more than they did was so they didn’t leave marks.” He started mumbling. “A few of them would say things like I’d be worth a lot more than others because I was pretty, handsome when I grew up.”

That reminded me of Meras picking out one kid who had grown up to be pretty by her standards. The Shades had just been calling him monster and boy before that, but she chose to name him Kallias only after he was pretty to her. I curled my lips in a snarl. “Sounds like Meras. Pieces of shit.”

He nodded as he had the airship turn gently. “Yeah, they were.”

We stayed silent, both staring out at the Capitol. But when I looked over at Skyler, he looked so upset. Was there a way to distract him from the bad thoughts? I ate some popcorn, trying to think, but then I glanced down at the popcorn and smiled a little. It was a good projectile. I aimed a piece at his head and threw it, hitting right on his forehead.

He looked over at me with a frown, and I shrugged. “I just thought you should have some more popcorn.” He just kept staring at me, but then he held out a hand for some popcorn.

I gave him some. But then I hit him again in the face with another popcorn.

He grinned mischievously back at me and yanked the controls, so that the airship took a sharp turn instead. I yelped and spilled some of the popcorn.

He laughed a little. “Don’t tell Volt I did that.”

I laughed back as I tried to clean up the popcorn. “I won’t. I deserved it anyway.”

He smiled as he leveled the airship again. “Actually, maybe don’t tell her we did this at all. I’m not really supposed to fly without her or Rick on board.”

I grinned back. “But you have me. Surely, I’m a responsible adult. Anyway, I think you’re doing awesome.”

He snorted. “Somehow I don’t think you qualify.”

I clutched my chest, as if he had hurt me. “Rude.” I paused and turned back to the Capitol. It was still pretty, just not as much as it had been. “But thanks. This is amazing.”

“Thanks for coming with me.” The hovercraft started slowing down as it got back to the place where it was. “And listening.”

“Same to you.” I held out a fist for him to fistbump. “Friends?”

He looked over at me with surprise, but then he smiled and fistbumped. “Yeah. Now be quiet while I land this thing.”

We got back down safely, and we walked back without saying anything. Sometimes, silence was fine without having to fill it.

#writeblr hunger games #writeblr #Nesri does not know the difference between airship and hovercraft #she just thinks everything is an airship

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years

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Would love to request something with innocent-looking Prince! Izuku obsessing over a commoner reader and being a creep/perv beneath the “naive prince izuku uwu” mask.

If anyone’s going to take advantage of one of their people, it’s going to be a boy who won’t realize he’s doing it. Not to say he’s very subtle.

TW: Alcohol, Violence, Emotional Manipulation and Isolation.

‘It’ll help the family,’ Your parents had said.

‘He’s a Prince, you don’t need to know him,’ Your friends had reassured.

‘Izuku is kind, you can trust him,’ You’d told yourself. Up until the very end, in fact.

It took weeks to build the confidence to consider the choice, and another month to gain the courage to leave your family. You’d lived in the Capitol all your life, but you’d only run into Prince Midoriya once, even if he had insisted that you use his given name barely an hour into your companionship. The first letter has come days later, written in ink more expensive than most of your possessions and sealed with the royal family’s crest. The position itself wasn’t glamorous, framing you as more of an attendant than anything, but the pay was good, and if you were being honest, you were eager to see what life in a more... affluent setting would be like.

It was exciting, and it was new.

It was the reason you’d ‘accidentally’ collided with the poorly-disguised Prince in the first place, even if you did take a bit of time to consider the consequences.

You’d always remember what it was like when you first arrived at Izuku’s estate. It was further away from the castle than your own home, isolated and beautifully secluded, despite being grand in its own right. He’d said he didn’t want you to be too wonderstruck, an excuse made more convincing by his own tales of embarrassment after Inko and Toshinori had first married. If you think back to it, you could still feel his servants staring at you, the hidden glances of his guards as they hesitated to open the gates. Izuku’d welcomed you with open arms, of course, his hugs edging on too friendly and too tight, but… his staff didn’t seem to share his excitement.

‘Commoners are security risks,’ The soldiers explained.

‘He’ll be distracted,’ His advisors cautioned.

“There are more qualified candidates, especially for such a personal role,” His maids and butlers had whispered, and only growing louder when you pretended not to hear them.

In the moment, you’d clenched your fists and bit your tongue, but you knew you didn’t have to worry about Izuku’s opinion on you. His eyes brightened as he dissuaded their concerns, his smile wide and the arm around your shoulders comfortingly snug, his word serving as law among his servants. It was law for you too, really. Through your letters and your conversations and his fixation on bringing you closer, he’d become your friend, but he was still your Prince, your sovereign, your lord, whether or not you spoke to him more casually than most. He was your sponsor, as well, now.

That night was the first time he touched you. The day had passed quickly, Izuku touring you around the mansion like a hyper-child who’d just made a new friend, and the night came with food and wine and fun. Your chambers were quaint, with just enough room for Izuku to watch as you changed into the new, hand-sewn uniforms he’d commissioned, clapping as you spun and laughing whenever you began to giggle. You can’t really recall much of it, but you knew he called you to his side and told you to sit still, if only so he could get a better look. You knew he was smiling, and you knew you liked his smile, but you didn’t think you really cared for the way he stared, the way he grabbed at you, how his hands always seeming to linger far too long.

But, you didn’t dare speak a word, not if it would’ve come out negatively.

Izuku was such a gentle soul, you were sure he couldn’t have had anything but the best intentions.

You fell into your new occupation quickly, after that. Izuku didn’t appear to need much help, having been raised outside of the castle before ‘All Might’ chose the young boy as his heir, and later on, Izuku’s mother as his wife. You would draw his baths and organize his schedule, delivering his meals and reading out his letters, but Izuku appeared to want company more than anything. You’d take his tea with him more often than not, sleeping less in your own room than in his. You noticed that he didn’t have the chance to meet many people, although he received many, many visits from all the mages and warriors and creatures he’d befriended. He asked you to stay out of sight, during those hours, but you didn’t pay that detail much thought. The noise they made alone would’ve been enough to drive you away.

The other members of his staff dwindled slowly, but noticeably all the same. Upon your concern, he assured you that the chefs and servants and footmen were only being sent to other manors and estates, that he’d always been expected to take care of himself. It’s was a bit more taxing, you’d admit, but Izuku was more than capable. Often times, you’d be the one waiting and watching as he cooked or filed unnecessary paperwork. Occasionally, he’d even be awake before you. Those days were the easiest, Izuku insisting that you stay in bed for another hour, that you let him show you the new outfit he had delivered or try the sweet he’d imported or simply lay back and listen to stories of his quests, his training, of his plans for the future.

Gifts were frequent, work was sparse, and you rarely accompanied him on the rare outings he did take. By the time half a year had passed, days where you did nothing were far more common than days where you did anything.

The boredom was frustrating, stifling. You got impatient, once, asking him when he would return to the castle or travel to another kingdom or do something that would let you leave the estate. You tried to be playful, to exchange some of the rumors you’d heard about his family and his lifestyle for Izuku’s flustered corrections, but he hadn’t seemed entertained.

“Are you tired of me already?” He’d snapped.

“I bet you just can’t wait to get rid of me,” Izuku accused, suddenly glaring.

“We don’t need to go to the castle, and you shouldn’t want to leave. Am I not enough for you, anymore? Do you not love me?” He yelled, standing only to corner you, to trap you.

He touched you again, that night, rougher than he had the first time. The clothes he loved so much were torn in his fist, buttons ripped off and lace ruined beyond repair, your skin not going unharmed in the process. When you tried to fall to your knees, to beg for his forgiveness or pull yourself together, he only took your wrist, forcing you to your feet and taking you back to his room, not your own. Again, there’d been wine, forced down your throat and so much more bitter than it had tasted before, and Izuku was still laughing, calming enough to chuckle when you began to cry.

You didn’t sit next to him, he wouldn’t allow it. You were forced into his lap until the sun rose, Izuku petting your hair and hushing you and never bothering to pull away, never giving you space to breathe. He held you, his hands leaving bruises on your hips and your neck, but he didn’t let go, clinging on to you as sleep took the young Prince. There were kisses and apologies and promises when he awoke, but you didn’t speak a word.

Not that you were scared of hurting his feelings, anymore.

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judecopeart · 4 years

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MIXTALE, the Undertale AU where everything is, well, mixed up ! Info under the cut because it’s long

Ark, the great -nibling of Era, who fell down the hole in Mt. Ebott 50 years ago, follows in their grankle’s footsteps (quite literally) and takes a tumble of their own. There, they meet Undyne, a former soldier who has retired to a quiet life in the ruins, under the orders to bring any fallen humans to the capitol. But over the week or so that Ark stays with her, she can’t bring herself to send them off to have their soul reaped, and instead hands them a small spear and offers a small protection charm. With those in hand, Ark is told to find a way home, by any means necessary. They travel to Snowdin, meeting a pair of ghosts along the snowy paths - an excited pink one named Mettablook (though he insists on just being called Mett), and a chill blue one named Napstablook. Mett is a human fanatic, and continuously tries to get Ark to tell him about human culture while they travel towards town. If he’s not talking about the stuff he finds at the dump, he’s going on and on about his favorite tv personality. Napstablook manages to tell Ark that they make lofi hip hop remixes in their spare time. Once they get to town, they bump into Asgore, a friendly, kind shopkeeper, with a gaggle of kids behind him. The shopkeep and human head towards Muffet’s Bar and Grill, and Asgore tells Ark about monster history, and how they’ll have to have a monster’s soul by the end of their journey if they want to get past the barrier. Ark is adamant they’ll be fine, and they’ll find another way through. After leaving Snowdin with Mett in tow, Ark gets their first encounter with Grillby in Waterfall - Grillby’s a hardened soldier with a bullheadedness and a DETERMINATION to stop the human. During a chase, a young goat child named Asriel distracts Grillby long enough for Ark and Mett to hide out on a snail farm, where they meet the owner, Toriel. She takes in the two for the night, and they have a big dinner with Tori, her son, and her wife, Muffet. Moving through Waterfall, the duo narrowly misses more attacks from Grillby, and only manage to escape when his enchanted armor’s power starts to dwindle from having no cool down time, causing him to become more vulnerable to the moisture in the air. Ark and Mett, in an act of compassion, drag him through to Hotland where he can dry back out and let his armor’s magic recharge. Now in Hotland, the pair enter a science lab, and get immediately accosted by a tall, boisterous....skeleton ? by the name of Gaster. They’re not all there, and they’re a little drippy, but they’ve heard all kinds of things about the human and they’re begging for the chance to study a human SOUL. Before they get the chance to start inspecting, a shorter skeleton named Sans pushes them out of the way and insists that the human meets his brother Papyrus and do a segment on his talk show to clear up some rumors. Ark and Mett are confused, but don’t have much time to ask questions as Papyrus himself appears and drags them to another room that’s set up with a desk and some armchairs. Once cameras start to roll, it’s revealed to Ark that many of the monsters they’ve met have been mistaking them for a human from 20 years ago - one named Era. All kinds of crazy theories that Ark was Era’s spirit come to avenge the monsters or whatever have been all over the monster internet, and Papyrus wants them to be able to clear things up. A picture of Era flashes on a screen behind them, and Ark recognizes them - it’s their great-Ankle who went missing when their grampy was still young. The monsters at home are shocked ! What are the odds 2 humans from the same family would fall down here ? It’s then that the story of the dearly missed Prince Monster Kid and the fallen human Era are told. Much like in canon, Era was taken in by the royal family, this time consisting of Alphys, her cousin Monster Kid, and her right hand guard Undyne. After Era fell gravely ill with a sickness their body couldn’t fight, Monster Kid and Era fused their souls and emerged into the above ground in order to look for a cure, or at least take Era back to their home town to see their loved ones one last time. Unfortunately, the humans there thought Monster Kid had attacked Era and hurt them, and began to attack Monster Kid in turn. Injured fatally, Monster Kid picked up their siblings body and returned home, barely making it back to Alphys before they turned to dust. Alphys, with both the kids she loved now dead, woefully vowed to avenge their deaths and free monsters from the underground and the plight of humanity. She sent Undyne to the ruins to watch and wait, and so over the decades they have reaped 5 human SOULS. Determined to make amends to Alphys, the whole of monster kind, and their own family’s lost history, Ark heads towards the castle with Mett, and now Papyrus. Along the way, the other monsters they meet offer help, charms, spells, and anything they can give, heartbroken to know that neither of Era’s families had gotten closure until now about their disappearance. At the castle, the trio encounters Alphys, sitting and weeping in a flower bed of golden petals. She spoke lowly to someone they couldn’t see, and when she turned to greet them, there was nobody there. She wiped her eyes and gently hugged Ark, voice hoarse as she apologized, but she had a duty to her people. They enter the next room, and it’s revealed... that Alphys won’t be the one being fought. It’ll, instead, be a teched out Flowey, the lost soul of Monster Kid, who’s powered by the other human souls. Once they claim Ark’s, they plan to blast the barrier to bits and lead the charge against the humans that caused so much damage. During the fight, Ark keeps getting flashes of the past from the dead human’s memories - a ballet dance here, a cooking lesson there - and finally, memory upon memory that could only belong to the family member they never knew. They appealed to the child inside Flowey, the one who just missed their sibling and wished things could have changed. Ark’s soul glows bright, resonating with the ones surrounding Flowey... and when the flash clears, Monster Kid is standing there, instead. They’re sniffling, ashamed and depressed, and with the last of their power they decimate the barrier. It won’t be long until they become a flower again, and they’re enveloped in a hug by Ark, Alphys and Papyrus joining not long after. As the Monster Kid leaves, other monsters swarm the entrance to the room, eager to step out into sunlight for the first time in centuries. Alphys stays behind, hoping to help Monster Kid, and a few others stay to assist, but mostly monsters run out with glee. The main group linger, not wanting to leave their newfound friends behind until they were all ready to go. Ark heads in the direction Monster Kid went, and when they catch up, they promise that Monster Kid will never be alone and sad ever again. The human stays until Monster Kid becomes Flowey once again, before gently digging them up and carrying them all the way back to the castle, and soon, out to the above ground.

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ears-awake-eyes-opened · 4 years

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(Hayffie and Everlark 💕. Effie’s first post-revolution visit to District 12. Haymitch and Effie have an agreement to keep their relationship secret, but Katniss and Peeta are observant. This fic began as a set up to a *little piece of a scene* I wanted to write. But I became intrigued by what I imagine of the inner world of each of the characters, and the story became dear to me. Then the I-love-writing-Effie-all-soft-and-gorgeous-and-amazing factor came into play, and the story grew long — 9 mini chapters. So if you make it all the way through this, then wow. Thanks for caring about the characters to go the distance with me, and let me know if you have a guess about the *little piece of a scene* that inspired the full story.)

“Let’s keep this casual,” had been one of their agreements. “This is nobody’s business but ours,” had been another.

In the middle of the revolution, nobody noticed *them* anyway. No one paid attention when they’d ducked out in the middle of Finnick and Annie’s wedding reception, or when they’d eaten meals in the dining hall with their legs touching beneath the table. During their final days in 13, nobody thought anything of Haymitch returning to his quarters long after curfew nor wondered where he’d been.

The sex had been a welcomed distraction. Covertness and privacy effected an intimacy between them which was unexpected and surprisingly not terrifying.

When the revolution ended, secrecy became more complicated.

“Can you feed the geese this weekend?” Haymitch asked Peeta at least once a month, twice if he wanted to push it, which he usually did.

“Sure. Where are you going?” The question was getting harder to answer.

“Buying liquor. That white shit gets dull when there are other drinks in other places and no borders keeping me from them.” That standard response, though not untrue, was becoming less believable as the months passed and more people, supplies, and goods made their way to 12.

Eventually Peeta stopped asking Haymitch where he was going, though occasionally the boy mentioned having seen bourbon or some other whiskey at the reconstructed Hob. Among Peeta’s many qualities were his helpfulness and his unassuming capacity to mind his own business, even while observant.

Katniss, on the other hand, was resuming her former tendency to express opinions about whatever she observed. Haymitch never asked HER to feed the geese when he took the train to the Capitol.

He was attempting to mend a wire fence on the day Katniss approached him with an announcement. “We’ve invited Effie to visit this weekend.”

Haymitch narrowly missed hitting his thumb with the hammer. He covered his affectedness with sarcasm. “Sweetheart, it’s not wise to sneak up on me when I’m holding a weapon.”

“I can see how lethal you are to that fence. I don’t think the odds are in its favor.” Trauma had left Katniss with dark humor always ready on her tongue. She and Haymitch were similar in this regard. Their banter was biting, but their hearts had grown in mutual understanding, shared survival, and compassion for one another.

A goose approached Katniss, looking for a handout. “I’ve got nothing for you.”

“This fence will keep the odds in YOUR favor, otherwise you might lose a finger to these gals. They don’t like it when the neighbors show up without snacks.”

“Maybe that’s because you ask *the neighbors* to feed them so often.”

“Peeta doesn’t seem to mind, especially in exchange for eggs for those cakes he bakes.”

Katniss couldn’t argue with that. “He’s making one Saturday. Would you like to join us for supper?”

“Your guest will be there...” He sought confirmation without asking the question. He tried to sound light, as if he was talking about the walls or their sofas, not the person he’d been having sex with for months.

“She’ll be there.”

Haymitch tried to keep a straight face. Failing at that he returned his attention to the fence. “I do enjoy a moist cake.”

“I figured.” Katniss smirked. “...And bring a bottle, not a flask. As much as I care about Effie, her company is easier to enjoy with my brain slightly altered.”

I enjoy her more when I’m sober, he didn’t say. There’s no way in hell he’d admit that. But what’s a dinner party without liquor? It’s basically just walls and sofas. “A bottle,” he agreed.

“A FULL bottle — of something good.”

“So demanding,” he chuckled. It was comforting to see Katniss wanting to engage with life beyond Peeta and the woods.

“It’s a fair trade,” she said, “For the pleasure of the company.”

Since clearly she suspected too much, Haymitch changed the subject, “If you want to gab all afternoon, then how about you help me fix this fence.”

“You and your ‘weapon’ are on your own with that. I’ll see you Saturday.” The goose waddled after her, “And no freeloaders, or I’ll turn you into in a soup.”

“I don’t taste very good.” Haymitch joked.

“Certain people might disagree with that.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” He hollered after her. Damn, those kids were too sharp to keep secrets from anymore.

His thoughts turned to Effie, and he tried to focus on the fence enough to avoid murdering his thumb.

***

Effie was on edge about returning to 12. Her last trip there had been before the third Quarter Quell, well over a year ago — a lifetime. She’d thrown up on the train that Reaping Day, unable to keep down her rising terror and disgust. It took every ounce of false positivity she’d cultivated throughout her life to do her job that day and pull her victors names from those glass balls. Katniss and Peeta had offered her more than validation of her own existence. They’d shown her the raw beauty that could come from unscripted humanity. They’d lifted the corner of a veil she couldn’t pull back over her eyes, no matter how hard she tried. It was almost like marrying death.

She’d worn butterflies to that reaping. Monarchs. Such a regal name for a creature transformed from a grub in a prison of its own making. She remembered the fleeting moment of relief she felt in pulling Haymitch’s name — relief that the slip of paper didn’t say ‘Peeta.’

What about now? She wondered. How would she feel now to be the agent of fate and injustice who sentenced people’s loved ones to their deaths? There would be no glamor or honor in that. Looking back, there never had been. How would she feel now pulling Haymitch’s name? Acid bubbled up her throat, and she sipped it down with water. Terror and disgust lived within the memory, same as the feelings she’d vomited up the last time on her way to 12.

This thing with Haymitch wasn’t casual for her. She hadn’t meant to feel so much. She wouldn’t give a name to the feelings. That wasn’t part of the deal. This intensity hadn’t been one of their agreements. She was haunted by the memory of pulling his name and haunted by that fleeting moment of relief. In the haunting, her feelings for him kept growing. It was unveiled madness, and she walked the edge in high heeled shoes. She’d never known any other way to walk. She missed Katniss and Peeta fiercely, and they’d invited her to their home. So she’d face 12, without wearing a mask.

There would be no lavish makeup or wigs, no corset of armor, nothing resembling the veiled self who’d pulled names from the Reaping Ball. She wouldn’t face 12 that way. People’s memories deserved more from her than ostentatiousness. Nothing black of course; she wasn’t in mourning. She’d never really known the dead. Soft orange and green were the best choices, the children’s favorite colors. Most people couldn’t pull off a green and orange outfit without resembling an enormous tulip, but Effie wasn’t most people.

As she smoothed her dress, awareness dawned. She rubbed her fingertips together, feeling the fabric covering her hands. Soft cotton. Is that really what she wanted to touch today? The question came because the answer was ‘no.’ She wanted textures beyond herself, even things that may be uncomfortable to touch, like sorrow. She peeled off her gloves, folded them neatly, and slipped them into her bag. “So beautiful. For another day.”

***

Peeta had pushed Katniss a bit for Effie’s visit. His strongest memories of her were colorful and warm, in contrast with the memories of his mother. When Effie had hugged him goodbye last winter, she’d held on until he was ready to let go. Not many people in his life had ever offered him that opportunity to be the one to stop hugging first. That’s the truth he reminded Katniss about when she initially rejected the idea of inviting Effie for the weekend.

Katniss’ mother hadn’t had the capacity to give her those kinds of hugs in the years since her father’s death, but Prim had held on a thousand fold. The ache of her sister’s absence was sharp. She would prefer endless Tracker Jacker stings to the pain of grief. At least their venom would put her to sleep. Grief was a nightmare she still couldn’t sleep through or wake up from.

Peeta grieved his family too, and part of his grief was for the closeness he hadn’t experienced with them when they were alive. Katniss held him when she thought in those terms. She held him until he was ready to let go. It was a simple gift to offer a person.

Effie still had truths to learn beyond the Capitol propaganda which had shaped her, but long ago someone had taught her the value of holding on. The lesson came from either that person’s presence or their absence. Katniss didn’t know which it was or who had been the teacher. Effie hadn’t shared her personal stories. Katniss was curious about her and empathetic for Peeta, so she agreed it was time to invite Effie to visit.

“Let’s meet her at the station,” she suggested, “It’ll be better that way. Different. This isn’t the Victors’ Village anymore. It’s our home.”

Every visit Effie made previously to those houses had been under force. She was an agent of the Capitol then. She had to be there, and they had to invite her in. There was no choice or celebration, despite Effie’s excessive use of “wonderful” as an exclamation.

“She’ll like that. ...She cried for us before the Quarter Quell... Real or not real?”

“Real. She was proud. She wanted something better for us.”

Peeta reached for Katniss’ hand, threaded their fingers together, and held on. “Then let’s show her what we have.”

Peeta had lost memories, but he hadn’t lost his capacity to find words so perfect that even Caesar would be envious.

***

After the train arrived, Haymitch watched the kids’ doorstep through the window of the guest room upstairs. It was either that or from the yard. A few weeks had passed since he’d seen her, and he didn’t want to wait until supper. Katniss and Peeta had been the ones to invite Effie to 12, which is more than he had done. If he invited her, then that would be opening the can of worms they were trying to keep closed. Right? And if there was one thing Effie hated, it was worms crawling all over the place. Real or metaphorical. She preferred containment or at least control when something was uncontainable.

Watching from inside would delay dealing with the lid on the can. But if the kids already knew he spent those Saturdays with Effie, then what did it mattter? It was nobody’s business but his and hers, but if the kids already knew, then they just knew. And if so, he could go out in the yard and kiss her, then the geese could eat any spilled worms, and the jig would be up.

But even if the kids knew, then Effie didn’t know that they knew. And it would probably be better for her to hear it from them than from him because he had no interest in sitting through a dinner party with her pissed at him. Sex with her angry was great, but sitting on sofas in awkward conversation with her fuming at him for revealing their connection didn’t sound like a desirable evening.

So he watched through a rip in the sheet covering the window as the kids walked with her from the station. Effie’s arm was wrapped around Katniss, holding her loosely at the waist. Haymitch and Effie had talked before about burns and how the pain could linger a long time in new skin. Effie was gentle. He knew that better than anyone. Katniss held Effie’s waist too, so the kid must be feeling okay with the connection. Peeta and Effie chatted as he rolled her bag behind him. Haymitch might have thought to open the window to hear their conversation, but it was too late now. Besides, this was already more spying than he felt comfortable doing.

Mostly he just wanted to see her, and the bit of subterfuge was worth it. She was different. Her hair was soft, real, pulled back in some sort of twist. He’d never seen this dress before. The top was orange, but not bright like the fruit. It was like rainbow sherbet melted in a bowl: orange, pink, and white blended together. In the former days of the Capitol, melted ice cream would have gone to waste. But he would drink her up if he could. Her neck, her collarbones, her shoulders, everything her clothes didn’t touch. A dark green band circled her waist, and below it the fabric changed as it hugged from her hips to her knees. The green was covered in tiny flowers, mostly the color of the melted sherbet and also pink, gold, purple, and yellow-green scattered here and there. The flowers laid on top of the dress rather than being part of the fabric itself. He didn’t have the right words to describe it. Just gorgeous. She could have anyone. Anyone would have her if they could. And for at least the hundredth time he wondered what this goddess was doing with a drunk like him.

She turned her head toward his porch and smiled before stepping inside the kids’ house. Before joining them for supper, he needed a shower. A cold one would be best.

***

Effie shivered on the short walk from the station. She was dressed for late summer, but fall was already in the air in 12. The air was changed, permeated by fragrances of the adjacent forest instead of the coal mines. Not enough people had returned for that industry to resume. Reconstruction was slow, and the nation was relying on other sources for fuel. Effie breathed in deeply, surprised by the scents of life. Human bones, charred and weathered a year, had lost the smell of rotting flesh. They smelled like nothing, which was a relief and a strange sadness. She knew thousands of corpses were there, but she didn’t look. She knew her limits. Bearing witness to such death would have been too much.

She was grateful for the children’s hugs and for the warmth of their home. The place had looked cold when she’d seen it last, almost not lived in. But now it was alive, with scuffs on the furniture and food in the oven. Katniss brewed tea from mint leaves she gathered in the woods, and Peeta brought a plate of cookies to the coffee table. Effie’s stomach was not settled enough yet to eat, but she felt welcomed there. The three of them sat on the sofas for conversation.

Katniss curled up her knees, and Peeta leaned toward her with unconscious familiarity. This was their life now — her victors. Tears pooled in Effie’s eyes, and she let one spill over without wiping it away.

“Effie?” Peeta worried.

“I’m so relieved. So relieved to see you both looking well.”

Wellness is a relative concept. When she’d last seen them several months ago, Peeta had little between his skin and his bones. Most of Katniss’ skin was burned, and she’d grown thin from protracted stress. They were healing now as best as they could and filling out into their adult selves.

“We feed each other.” Katniss was straightforward. “That helps.”

Peeta brushed her palm with his fingertips. Satiation is a relative concept too. There were many hungers, unfolding with time.

“This peace helps,” he said, “It makes it easier to quiet the voices inside.”

Katniss curled her fingers around his. This was still their way — protecting each other. Back and forth, exchanging breath.

Effie finally wiped away the tear. Peace was something she felt far from in her inner life. “It’s quiet here, aside from the construction equipment down the road... and the geese next door.”

“The geese are decent neighbors.” Peeta had developed a fondness for them. “They only get riled up around feeding time.”

Katniss looked to her bow and quiver of arrows by the door. “If Haymitch had decided to raise chickens, I can assure you the roosters wouldn’t have lasted long.”

Effie snickered. “Haymitch probably would have had to buy back his dead roosters at the Hob.”

“Exactly.”

“His mother raised geese,” Effie added, “So the choice makes sense. There are different ways to find peace. He only talks about his family when he’s been drinking. It’s probably easier that way. They were close. 26 years is a long time, but some wounds are too deep for time to heal.”

Katniss and Peeta glanced at each other. Effie’s words were telling — full of intimacy and introspection.

“Oh, my darlings. I’m sorry. Here I am going on about grief when the two of you already understand better than I ever will.”

“There’s no need to apologize...” Peeta began.

“...Snow taught us all grief.” Katniss finished the thought.

Effie sighed. “I’m so proud of you both. I recognize I have no right to be, but still I am.”

“You’ve always been supportive of us. Anyone can see that. Without you and Haymitch securing sponsors, we wouldn’t have even survived the Games.”

“Dear boy, you are too kind.”

“He’s honest.” Katniss agreed simply.

The tea had cooled enough to drink, and Effie sipped hers, tasting a bit of their life here. The flavor was good.

***

Haymitch hadn’t asked when supper would be ready. That gave him the flexibility to show up whenever he wanted. He figured they’d spend at least an hour saying things he already knew about all of them. Waiting an hour should be good.

Unfortunately an hour gave him too much time to think about things he didn’t like to think about... What clothes to wear to look good, but not so good that it was obvious he’d thought about what clothes to wear to look good... Which liquor was tasty enough to share but not so tasty that he didn’t want to share it... What time the clock read.

He kicked himself for watching the clock, then he watched the clock again, then kicked himself again, and so on. All the while, he didn’t drink because he wanted to show up sober, and hold her waist sober, and kiss her sober when the kids were distracted. Then he wanted to drink with her and watch her cheeks turn pink and wait for her to touch him in some inconspicuous way that he would feel but nobody else would see.

It was a long hour.

***

“I invited Haymitch to supper,” Katniss said in response to the knock at the door.

“Wonderful!” Effie replied in a rehearsed way that masked however she actually felt about it.

As Peeta shifted to stand, she interrupted. “I’ll get it. I’ve been sitting all day.”

The kids watched her straighten her dress and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear before opening the door.

Haymitch greeted her at the doorstep with a basket in one hand, a bottle of liquor in the other, and a smile big enough to show the gap between his teeth, which she was eager to caress with her tongue.

“It’s good to see you, sweetheart.” he leaned in, kissed the soft patch below her ear, and whispered, “You look incredible.”

She pressed her hand to the tender spot below his sternum. Her touch was reflexive. Their knowing each other’s bodies was difficult to conceal. “I’m glad to see you too.” She loved this particular shirt, grey and form-fitting. She wanted to touch more than his stomach, but she’d already lingered too long, so she pulled away reluctantly. “Come in! Come in before the flies do!”

Haymitch moved toward the sofa before the kids had a chance to get up. “Presents...” He handed Peeta the basket of eggs, and Katniss got the brandy. He lowered his voice, “A full bottle... as requested.”

“Thanks, Haymitch.” and “Perfect.”

“Katniss, I’ll put these away,” Peeta suggested, “And let’s get some glasses.”

Katniss was more interested in what was going on between Haymitch and Effie.

“Hey.” Peeta cocked his head in the direction of the kitchen.

She acquiesced. “Make yourselves comfortable. We’ll be back.”

The moment the kids left the room, Haymitch wrapped his arms around Effie’s waist and kissed her without hesitation or slowness. She responded in kind with her tongue sliding along his teeth, then tasting more deeply. Her hands played over his chest to the hollow between his collarbones where she stroked just once, gently, so gently.

“Jesus, Effie,” he murmured, “You feel...”

No word was enough, so he kissed from her neck along her jaw. Her skin was smooth with so little makeup. He drank her in like melted rainbow sherbet.

“Haymitch...” She was almost too breathless to protest. “We should stop. The children are just in the kitchen.”

“They said to make ourselves comfortable.” He pulled her hips close.

“‘Make yourselves comfortable’ does not translate to ‘Fuck in our living room.’” Her whisper flooded him with desire for exactly that.

“It does in my house.”

“Then how about if I slip over there later for that translation.” She kissed him once more then ran her thumb across his lips to wipe away remnants of her lipstick.

“I’d love to *translate* the fuck out of you, honey.” He adjusted the neckline of her dress which had slipped sideways and was showing a sliver of her bra. “No corset today.”

She shook her head ‘no.’

“Thank god.”

He pulled her to the sofa and sat beside her, close but not too close. “Respectable?”

“We’ll see.” Beneath the coffee table she rested the toe of her stiletto against his boot. They fit together in a way that she could feel so strongly but didn’t yet understand.

***

“Are they done making out in there, or should I drink this brandy in the kitchen?”

“Shhh.” Peeta listened. “Give them a few minutes. What if we hadn’t seen each other in three weeks? Imagine how we’d be feeling.”

“Point taken.” Katniss was still barely able to let Peeta out of her sight. His presence was one of the things keeping her sane. “But this is ridiculous. Why don’t we just tell them that we know?”

“Maybe they don’t want to know that we know. We should let them tell us when they’re ready.”

“Shhh,” she said this time. “I think I hear them talking about Effie’s work.”

“Then lets bring in the drinks.”

“Quickly before they change topics and have sex on our couch.”

“Katniss, they wouldn’t...”

She rolled her eyes.

“Okay. They would. Let’s go.”

***

“...And Paylor’s on board?”

“The president is supportive.” Effie affirmed, “She’ll bring the proposal before Congress when they’re in session.”

“On board with what?” Katniss asked as she opened the bottle of brandy, and Peeta set the glasses on the coffee table.

“If all goes as planned there will be sites in each district designated as national memorials and a memorial museum in the Capitol.”

“Congress isn’t even in session. How did you secure an advocate?” Haymitch asked.

“Several Senators and Representatives are interested. Cressida and Pollux contributed footage of destruction in the districts and filmed the proposal. Since she refused payment, I made a donation to the film she’s producing. The Trinkets don’t have deep pockets, but we have enough. And considering everything Cressida has done for us. For all of us...” Effie’s eyes held tears like old glass — solid fluidity.

“Would you like a drink, sweetheart?”

“I still have my tea.”

Haymitch poured brandy for Katniss and himself. “Peeta?”

“Not yet, thanks.”

Haymitch took a cookie from the plate, dunked it in the brandy, and ate it in two bites.

“And of course they wouldn’t give the proposal coming from me a skerrick of attention if it weren’t for you...” She looked at Katniss and Peeta. ...My victors, she didn’t say the words, but they spilled onto her cheeks.

Haymitch slid his hand between the sofa and her back, drawing circles at the base of her spine, offering her this small comfort and pleasure.

“This work will mean so much to the country, Effie.” Peeta assured her.

“It’s wonderful that you’re involved with this. I had no idea...” Katniss glared then at Haymitch, “You tell me nothing. Still!”

“I told you if you want to gab, then help me fix my fence.”

“That’s extortion.” She grinned.

Effie reached for Haymitch’s glass and took a sip. She did it absentmindedly, as if sharing a glass was a common occurrence.

The kids noticed.

The next time Haymitch picked up the glass, he turned it and drank from the spot where Effie’s lipstick had left a mark. It was an act of unmistakable intimacy, almost communion.

Katniss bit her tongue. Whatever was going on between those two was serious. It occurred to her that maybe they weren’t talking about it because maybe they didn’t know yet what it was.

Her own awareness of love wasn’t unfolding all at once. It was like a primrose opening to the sun, each petal, bit by bit. So why expect someone else’s awareness to be any way other than that?

The brandy was delicious. Katniss drank in contentment rather than to dull an annoyance. Right now, there was no annoyance. Her family was here. Even the ones who weren’t here she felt as more than persistent echoes. She felt them in the flowers appliquéd on Effie’s dress.

“Primroses.” Katniss realized. “Are you wearing them for us?”

“Yes, my dear.”

Haymitch’s hand stilled on Effie’s back. She was remarkable. He had no idea how they were going to keep this casual, when it was already so much more. He had no idea how they were going to keep this private when their feelings were so close to the surface and already running so deep.

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