#will do everything in his power to get me to sleep early | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

minkieater · 4 months ago

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luck → jyh 🂡

“if you are unsure on who is going to win, always bet on yunho.”

p. jeong yunho x fem!reader g. borderline yandere!yunho, non idol au w. alcohol consumption, smut minors dni PLS, cheating, stalking, yunho's fucking crazy wc. 7.7k

♫ —vermillion, slipknot “my dahlia bathed in possession, she is home to me.”

his right hand completely enveloped two dainty, fragile wrists connected to two perfectly manicured hands, pinned above a very beautiful fucked out face. the french tips stared back at him as he lost himself fully, buried deep inside someone he most certainly should not of been. as he reaches the hilt of his pleasure, he lets it rush through him, consume him for that stolen moment of freedom before it drags him down all the same.

he retracts his hand as he pulls out, taking a breath, but no time to waste, he has someone waiting at home for him, after all.

the sweat is wiped off his forehead and his pants are zipped up before she could come down herself. it never really bothered him much, the cheating thing, but then again, he never really thought twice about it. he’s always done what he’s wanted, he’s never had any reason not to.

he knows if she found out it’d be the end of their picture perfect relationship, and as inconvenient that situation would be, it makes the doing all the much more exhilarating.

his heart is never fuller than when he’s with her, that pretty little thing. standing at a petite five foot something, her head reaches just the tip of his shoulder. it makes him feel powerful with his over six foot build, towering over her, having to bend at the hips to steal a quick kiss on her always glossed lips.

she was perfect to him, perfect for him, but yet he couldn’t let go of sinking himself into anyone that looked at him with a twinkle in their eye. she’s smart, funny, thoughtful, attentive, and overall just sweet. but he loved the attention, loved the adoration, he loved to feel loved. wanted, lusted, appreciated — sometimes one person’s captivation just isn’t enough. it was never enough for yunho.

he had the same routine whenever he did it, his little addiction: find his toy for the night, leave the bar, have a quick fuck, hurry back to the bar, cover his tracks, get home.

even the nights she was at the bar he’d sometimes make it work, the logistics of it are all his genius, but he’d do it and he’d do it well — she would never question a thing. no one got his number, no one got his full name if they didn’t already know it, and no one expected to see jeong yunho again after that one quick half an hour, if that, spent with him. somehow, all the odds were forever in his favor.

that was, of course, until he met you.

everything he thought he knew about his relationship, everything he thought he felt about his sweet little girlfriend, this perfect system that he’d created for himself, all of that went straight in the shitter the second you batted your eyelashes at him the first time.

she was at home, sleeping soundly, which he was sure of because she had a shift early the next morning, he was out with a few of his friends after a long night of studying. she never waited up for him, never questioned who he was out with, she had full and utter faith in him. which, essentially, was her downfall.

four beers and two shots deep, his waist was bent over the bar for yet another beer, no longer seated on the stool at the table with his friends. across the bar, he saw you, and the room went silent for a moment. beautiful face, perfect build, everything he looked for in a woman. he knew exactly who his target was tonight, and you knew it, too. but you didn’t find that out until later.

you were preoccupied, talking to one of his friends, actually. you had full intentions of trying to take that husky, tall, blonde haired man home with you that night, yunho could read it all over your face. that couldn’t happen, that won’t happen.

mingi would understand, right? he needed mingi to understand. he wanted you. he needed you.

he waited until he got his beer, he even took notice of the bottle in your grasp and bought you another, too. he made his way around the bar, a predator stalking his prey, strides fluid and smooth like a snake preparing to attack.

“you do know that you’re not supposed to take drinks from strangers, right?” you look to him with an eyebrow raised, and he knew then and there he was fucked. glossy lips, hair done to perfection, dress perfectly clinging to your curves — he wished he could cut straight to the point, snap his fingers and he could skip the build up and sheer work it took to get you where he wanted you.

“who said we were strangers?” the same eyebrow lifts on his own face, smirk taking a now permanent seat on his lips, clinking his beer with yours in cheers. fortunately for him, game was his forte, mingi had to know he was a goner already.

“i guess we don’t have to be,” you finished off your previous beer at the same time he did, trading it for the new one he brought, “this is the yunho you mentioned, huh, mingi?”

“yeah, yeah, this is yunho,” mingi nods and his cheeks flush, out of embarrassment or annoyance, yunho wasn’t sure. he wished he felt worse for completely dogging his friend’s play, but when it comes to this, came to you, yunho physically could not hold himself back.

“and who are you? since you know everything about me already,” that cocky smirk won't leave his face, and you’re not hiding that it’s driving you insane. good, just how he wants you. curious, interested, maybe even craving. easy.

you introduce yourself, shifting your weight from one heeled foot to the other, “dunno everything about you, but can’t say i wouldn’t like to find out more.”

check mate. mingi takes this as his cue to turn on his heel, bidding both of you goodnight. yunho would have to call him tomorrow, give him a proper apology.

an hour later he had you on your back at a nearby motel, barreling inside of you like it was the last thing he’d ever do. when he gets into these situations, he’s never one to play nice, never sticks around, a big hit it and quit it type of guy, but what can he say? he’s got a beautiful woman waiting for him at home.

but that night … that night he had the most intriguing woman he’d ever encountered beneath him. he even made you cum first, not something he usually tries to do, never a goal for each person on his list despite not a single one leaving his presence unsatisfied. seeing you across the bar was the prologue to the novel you were about to write together, sweat and spit the pen and paper.

he couldn’t leave you that night. he knew he should’ve went home to her, he knew he should’ve gotten your last name, he knew he should’ve at least used a condom. but he didn’t.

the first time he saw you, he knew he should’ve stayed the fuck away, knew he should’ve kept his routine consistent, he knew you’d be the one to send his head into a spiral. jeong yunho knew a lot of things, he’s a smart guy, but greed sits at the top of the list of his flaws, and you brought out the worst in him.

maybe he needed a little bit of humbling, a wake up call of sorts, but the last thing he expected was waking up to the bed empty, a ghost of your figure laying next to him, the sweet smell of your perfume and sweat lingering in the cheap cotton.

the worst of it all, he hasn’t seen you since.

which brings him to two weeks later, where he emptied himself in yet another woman who looks like she could be your distant cousin, maybe a good friend that ever so slightly resembles you. maybe he’s just been looking for you in every single cervix he’s touched since that night.

on the ride home, his brain is elsewhere, as it’s been after every single hook up he’s had since you. when he gets home and his pretty little girlfriend is waiting for him, he can’t bring himself to question why she’s awake, not when she’s pecking kisses all over his face, telling him how much she’s missed him. completely oblivious, a small part of him thinks she’s fucking ignorant for it.

he knows what’s to come. if he keeps going down this road it’s only a matter of time before his feelings toward her turn resentful, he gets meaner, she gets insecure, he gets aggravated. he can see it play out in his mind, yet he’s indifferent. with her, without her, he doesn’t care. all he wants is to see you again.

if he could, he’d have no need for the girlfriend that waits up for him after the bar. no requisite for her making his lunches, washing his hair, doing his laundry, unzipping his pants after a stressful day. yunho wishes he could love his girlfriend the way he always had, but the truth is, the first time you sunk your teeth into him ruined any future he had with her.

a month later, he saw your friend again. the one from that night who stood by, observing, looking through yunho like he was transparent, naked to the human eye. across that same bar, he couldn’t contain his surprise, couldn’t stop himself from widening his eyes or dropping his jaw. an invitation, an opportunity, an answer for his questions, first being where the hell have you been? when will he see you again? did you mention anything about him? did you at least admit he was a good fuck? he’s bursting at the seams with impatience, heart pounding so hard against his broad chest he could hear it.

she didn’t give him much, not that he went about it in an inconspicuous way. pestering her with questions, pushing for answers, trying his best to seem interested but not flat out creepy. it didn’t work very well. he couldn’t contain his excitement, his urgency, his yearning, she could see straight through him once again. he was off his game.

what she did give him was your last name, a common last name which was surprisingly a nickname for you used more often than not. she didn’t even notice the reveal of this key piece of information, not even when the wicked smile threatened to crack his best innocent facade.

he didn’t sleep with anyone that night, didn’t look for you in any women at that dingy bar. he did go home and sleep with his pretty little girlfriend, who once again overlooked the smell of infidelity and heineken oozing from his skin, as she always does. when her eyes closed and her breaths turned rhythmic and slow, he pulled out his phone, deciding to do his research in the dead of night.

there were plenty of people with your first and last name, but there was only one you. he found you with ease, and your page takes him by surprise. you post everything. it tells him so much, too much, and gives plenty of ammunition for his right hand that couldn’t resist the ache in his dick. by the point of post nut clarity, he’s cooking up an idea, which turns to an objective, a plan. he fell asleep with a smile on his face and a sense of urgency he couldn’t wait to fulfill.

he waits until the next weekend, and not patiently. he’s checking your instagram every day, watching your stories off of a burner account, he nearly starts a list in his notes of places you frequent, your orders from coffee shops, things you like. he’d have to tell you to stop making it so easy to know you, understand you, to find you.

it’s clear you’re a free spirit, not a thought in your brain that someone is watching you, examining you, waiting for you. but he wants you this way, oblivious, unsuspecting, surprised when he shows up to your place of work. maybe you’re used to the attention, yunho thinks, you’re beautiful and you definitely know it, too. as much as he has the urge to hide you, keep you from desiring eyes, he’s proud, in a way, that you can show yourself off so openly. you won’t hide yourself the way his girlfriend does, you didn’t shy off from him for a moment in those four hours he spent with you six weeks ago.

his friends are surprised that he wants to go anywhere besides his favorite dingy bar in the middle of manhattan, especially with the luxury of a VIP section and bottle service, but he doesn’t kiss and tell. he quickly blamed the hastily prepared outing on his friend’s internship acceptance when his friends questioned the occasion, he’d rather them be unaware. especially with his girlfriend present, much to his dismay. he let them think he’s just a good friend, despite his intentions being more than culpable. the less they know, the better, even though a couple of them definitely have an idea — he couldn’t hide it from everyone.

when they finally made it to the line outside of the nightclub, a smaller group of six, muffled pounds of the heavy bass from inside only increased the sweat on yunho’s palms. he knew you were inside, in a tight little bodysuit, sparkly tights and a pair of heels on your feet. he wished he could blame the adrenaline as his pants grew tighter, not on the fact that you were inside, not knowing he gathered a whole group of people and improvised an entire celebration just to see your face again.

he immediately skipped the line, telling the bouncer his last name, and got the group inside with ease. different hues of purples and greens and blues reflected the ceilings, the walls, the tables, the floor. if he wasn’t so one-track minded he’d be overstimulated. he was brought to the section with his friends following closely behind, he forced the adrenaline to leave his face, his body, his hands. his scheme was set in motion, he needed to lock in, let go of any emotion that might incriminate him, make him seem suspicious.

he ordered bottles, vodka, tequila and whiskey, three chances for you to make your way around to his section, maybe carrying a sign or carrying a bottle or simply clapping and cheering with your coworkers. when he met you, he didn’t expect you to be a bottle girl at a night club, but he supposed that explains why you haven’t been back to his favorite bar. he assumed you were a full time student, but if he had to guess, maybe a retail employee or a coffee shop barista, something simple, just to get the bills paid so you can live as freely as you want. he was thoroughly mistaken, yet he couldn’t complain.

especially not when you made your way over to the table, bucket of ice and mixers in your hands, a huge smile on your face. he knew exactly what you’d be wearing: a tiny little black bodysuit that left nothing to the imagination, sparkling tights that mirrored the strobe lights so perfectly, a pair of heels so high he wondered how you were walking so smoothly. that wicked smile appeared on his lips again, the pride of victory flowing through his veins, despite him willing away any emotion reflecting on his face. he should’ve known his body wouldn’t listen to him when it came to you, but his plan had worked, you’re here, bringing juices and sodas and not helping his dick that refuses to soften in his jeans.

he catches your eye and keeps it as you bent forward, setting down the bucket on the table, someone else putting down the bottles beside it. yunho couldn’t be bothered to notice anyone else, not when you keep eye contact as the little show you put on ends, definitely not when you stare over your shoulder as you and your crowd go back to wherever you came from.

as you get back behind the bar, a rush of adrenaline racks through you, you could feel the buzz all the way in your fingertips and toes. he’s here, he’s here, he’s here.

you immediately run to the bathroom, checking your makeup, adjusting yourself in your outfit. he was the last person you’d expect to see tonight, you’ve never seen him here before, haven’t seen him at all since that perfect night you spent together. the past six weeks you couldn’t get him out of your mind, couldn’t stop thinking about his long fingers, long legs, he’s long everywhere. you’d never had a better one night stand — you cursed yourself every day since leaving before he woke up, not leaving him with at least your phone number. but a saturday night spent in a hotel, blocks down from that dingy fucking bar, he definitely didn’t want anything more from you than a quick fuck, never to hear from you again. you could be okay with that, you needed to be okay with that.

“boo, could you grab me a bottle of casamigos from the back?” the main bartender for the night asks as you walk out of the employee bathroom, frantically looking for someone to help her out.

you pause for a moment, her question ripping you out of your daydream and you nod in response. you hurry to the back, grab a bottle, and make your way out to the bar.

the spotlight from the dance floor might as well of shone directly on him as he stood at the bar, taller than everyone else, a sore thumb despite his dark clothes. you took a breath, a smile on your face, excitement flooding you.

“hello there, stranger,” you say as you drop the bottle on the shelf then turn to him, “you guys went through three bottles that quick?”

he shakes his head, “i like to take my time, you know that.”

“i know that very well, spine breaker,” you plant your palms against the bar, shifting your weight to one foot. behind the bar was slightly staged, that in combination with the heels, yunho’s height didn’t seem as intimidating.

amusement laced his features, “then why’d you leave? i would’ve taken even longer in the morning,” he quirks a brow and your mouth forms a small ‘o’, that was the last thing that you expected out of his mouth.

you shrug casually, not believing the words out of his mouth, “that holiday inn wasn’t very… enticing. if you were trying to romance me you should’ve at least taken me to a marriott.”

this makes a chuckle escape his lips, “my bad, just wanted to get you under me as quickly as possible.”

an ah leaves your lips with a nod, “which you did, so why are you standing at my bar? can i get you something?” you couldn’t exactly place why your tone turned irritated, you might’ve been hoping for a little more than that.

“another night with you,” the corner of his lips pull up, a smirk appearing on his face, that same fucking smirk that pulled you under him in the first place.

a laugh barrels out of your mouth before you can stop it, “go back to your little friends and get away from my bar unless you’re buying me a shot, yunho.”

your words are leaving your mouth before you can think about them, your mouth moving faster than your brain. the last thing you want is for him to leave, walk away, forget about you. you wanted the same thing he did, even if you wanted more.

he leans in closer and you fight the urge to step back, his tight jaw and lowered eyes daring you. you don’t give in.

“oh? was that a no?” his expression doesn’t change despite his playful words, “what a shame. i’ll meet you after your shift is over.”

he turns to walk away and you can feel the heat in your cheeks. you call after him and he turns with a single eyebrow raised, “meet me where?”

“wherever the closest marriott is,” his playful smile returned to his lips, the same one you met him with. it excited you and made you nervous, you weren’t used to meeting hookups at hotels.

their apartments, whether they live alone or with roommates, yes, but never hotels. it made you feel like a hooker first, and that’s usually a red flag and means someone is married, or worse, still lives with their parents. living in such a huge, expensive city, a hotel for a night isn’t cheap at all whatsoever. you decide not to think about it too much, let yourself bask in the excitement of being with him, and look forward to an entire night dedicated to letting off some steam.

“who was that?” yunho’s girlfriend asks when he slides into the booth next to her, petting his bicep. her question is full of innocence, her eyes still bright, slightly glazed over with need, definitely from the one or two shots she took in his absence.

“mingi’s favorite fling at the moment,” he gives her a tight lipped smile and kisses her head, pulling her closer to his side. mingi was always the easiest out, she bought it every damn time.

the rest of the night he sat with his cute little girlfriend on the booth wrapped around the table, he didn’t see you again. he was fighting to keep his excitement to himself the longer he got away with it — not just his girlfriend seeing you, but you seeing his girlfriend, who wound up basically on his lap the more she drank. his friends drank and danced, the six of them together finished all three bottles, a few of them even moved out to the dance floor instead of their private section. as much as yunho hated places like this, he loved to be with his friends, see them happy, spend time with them in such a carefree environment.

when it came up on midnight, yunho decided it’d be best to head home, taking his girlfriend with him. she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, which she usually did after a good fuck. after some drinks in her, he knew she was out for the night, she’d sleep through a tornado. not that there would be one in new york city.

he even had time to shower before he headed out for the night, literally choosing your preferred hotel closest to the club. he got a room and headed over to the bar, having another drink or two before they shut it down for the night. he waited past two, three…

it was 3:45 and he started to lose hope. he realized you’d never even said yes — were you even going to show? did you forget in the craziness of your shift? what time did the club even close? when did you usually get home? these kinds of hours really mess with someone’s sleep schedule.

every few minutes he’d glance at the glass doors, hoping and praying you’d walk inside.

ten minutes past 4, you finally did walk through the revolving entrance, and relief rushed through him. ugg slippers, sweatpants, a hoodie and your hair tied up, all he could think is how excited he was to take it all off of you. his skin was burning with impatience, he almost leapt off his seat.

“i was starting to think you forgot about me,” he starts, a curated smile placed on his cheeks as he slips from the faux leather chair.

“a part of me didn’t think you were serious,” you respond in the same tone, coming to a still in the middle of the lobby.

he couldn’t place the emotion in your eyes, you looked unsure, nervous even, from across the lobby. he made it to you in two quick strides, towering over your small frame.

“yet you still showed up,” he wore the same face from earlier when he stared you down over the bar, eyes low, hungry. he could smell you, nearly taste you on his tongue. you still had your makeup on and he immediately knows there’s no way you had time to wash up, for some reason it made his pants tighter.

“here i am,” you shrug, picking at your sleeve. you looked so small, your cocky demeanor from earlier far gone, replaced by uneasiness, an emotion he hasn’t seen on you yet. it fed his own power trip, in combination with his figure that completely enveloped your own, he felt on top of the world. like he owned you already.

he huffed out a small let’s go and grabbed your dainty hand that peeked out of your sleeve, guiding you to the elevator, up to the room.

“this is nice,” you compliment the suite, blacks and grays and wood accents filling the space.

“everything you dreamed of?” he sits down on the bed, legs spread, hands behind him.

“i wouldn’t say that,” a small smile appears on your face as you tuck a stray hair behind your ear, standing awkwardly in front of him.

“no? after i got exactly what you asked for,” yunho slips a tsk out, tilting his head to the side and his chin up, staring you down from under his eyebrows.

your giggle is nervous, “that’s not what i meant. i’m just wondering why we’re at a hotel,” your curiosity got the best of you, you physically couldn’t hold the question back, unable to shake the feeling of something being off.

“do you want me to be honest, or lie?” he asks, his voice full of amusement. the question takes you by surprise and you have to think about it for a second, there’s layers to that ask. layers you don’t know if you want to peel, something about his tone makes you not want to know the truth.

“lie,” your voice is barely above a whisper, and a shiver crawls up your spine. that off feeling must’ve been your gut, fully awake now, talking to you, screaming at you, saying you shouldn’t be here.

“i live with three guys, don’t wanna keep them up all night,” he licks his lips, the lie so evidently fucking clear on his tongue, the lie you asked for. the lie you needed to go through with this despite your gut begging you otherwise.

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “that’s nice of you.”

he shrugs, pulling his hands into his lap, slouching forward ever so slightly, making himself smaller. his body language is intentional, he could read it all over you that you didn’t need to be intimidated, you need to be comforted. feel at ease, feel the want, feel that same primal fucking hunger that was beginning to consume him.

“i’m a nice guy,” his face contorts, an easygoing smile on his lips instead of that dangerous smirk, “come here, stranger.”

he uses the same word on you that you used earlier and it evokes a smile from you, a genuine smile, he’s grateful that’s all it takes to crack you open. he didn’t have it in him to try anymore.

as you take two steps forward he leans back, displaying his lap for you to sit. you wrap around him, your knees hugging his hips, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“there she is,” his voice is sweet and soft, laced with desire as he looks up to you, shifting himself under you, “been so long.”

you whimper out his name, immediately feeling him press up into you, your eyebrows furrowing. you wanted to be okay with this, wanted to press your gut feeling down, but you couldn’t.

he mumbled out a hm? as he pressed close mouthed kisses to your jaw, his brain already miles ahead of you. you wanted to say fuck your curiosity, fuck the truth, fuck whatever he’s hiding, but it’s eating at you. you can’t relax in his touch the way you’re desperate to.

“wan’ you to be honest now,” it was half a moan when it exited your lips, and yunho didn’t miss a beat.

“no you don’t,” he spits out too fast, the truth keeping itself hidden somewhere beneath his heavy chestnut bangs. his hands traveled up your back, beneath your hoodie, “i missed you, wanna taste you.”

as his tongue makes contact with the column of your neck you let out a hiss, his touch feeling like electricity, sending your brain elsewhere.

he could tell. he could read it all over you.

he could feel the stiffness, the discomfort that touched every bone in your body, he was over it. how did he get here? he just wanted to see you again. he shouldn’t of answered that question the way he did and he knows it, but he also is willing to bet his life on the fact that you’ll fold. he can’t find a single scenario where you leave him, all alone in this suite, spending the night by yourself elsewhere.

he thinks on it for a moment, an evil thought crossing his mind for a second, that one second easily spinning him into a spiral. did you have something else lined up? is that why you wanted to leave so bad? you were seeing someone else after him? an emotion he can’t explain is simmering inside him, something between rage and hurt and the urge to prove himself. he’ll show you why you missed him, why you needed him, why no one else will ever fuck you the way he can.

he attacks your neck instead, sucking harshly and groping your ass under your sweatpants, making you jolt forward into his chest with a muddled moan. he chuckles in a low tone before picking you up and putting you on your back in one quick motion. you yelp at that, no doubt taking you by surprise, he can’t help but keep laughing. the laughter is dry, it’s knowing, it’s a little menacing, too.

as he attached his lips onto yours, he can feel you physically melt into him. your body softens, that tension that once sat in your shoulders now gone, your fingers pulling into his hair.

finally, he thinks.

once again, jeong yunho’s winning streak continues, and he can’t help the prideful look as he looms over you.

you audibly said fuck it.

as long as his lips were on yours, his dick continued to press into your too layered core with experienced fingers touching every bit of your skin, you didn’t fucking care. you didn’t see a wedding ring and, shit, if he did still live with his parents, the hotel room was pretty nice. you could live with that.

your body felt hot — too fucking hot. you had too many layers on, too much weight on top of you, impatience was crawling up your throat.

“take this off,” you tugged at his shirt, mumbling between kisses, and he obliged. you took the moment of freedom to strip yourself of your hoodie, unclipping your bra with one hand.

he watches in amusement, lips glossed over with your spit and a still growing tent in his jeans. you’re thirsty, you’re hungry, you’re itching for him. and he can read it all over you.

“take it easy, we have all night, princess,” he comments, yet his pupils are blown and his hands immediately flocked to your chest, “such perfect fuckin’ tits.”

“take it easy, my ass,” you laugh before he shuts you up quick, attaching a slick mouth to one of your nipples, making an involuntary gasp leave your lips. you arch your back and your head digs into the pillow, sizzling hot pleasure coming from every nerve ending, a moan leaving your lips as two fingers wrap around the other and pinch.

“fuck,” you’re hissing out in pain and pleasure and he switches, soothing the sore one over with a soft tongue, rough fingertips tweaking the other. you buck your hips up and he chuckles into your chest, the vibrations against you only made you moan louder.

he finally pulls away, looking down at you with hooded eyes that matched your own, paired with a snicker from your reactions, “you gonna survive me this time?”

you smack his bicep with a laugh, “fuck you.”

“patience, baby,” is all he responds as he reaches for the waistband of your sweatpants, pulling them down in one swift go. you feel the cool air hit you and you can feel yourself steaming, body too hot for the chill of the room that you didn’t notice until now.

he peppers open mouthed kisses along your stomach, all wet and messy and hot. you whimpered, your hips bucking again at the stimulation, body craving more. muscle memory took the driver’s seat from the last time you slept with him, your body knew what was to come, and the anticipation was killing you.

he spreads your legs, a strip of black lace standing between yunho and what he would choose as his last meal. he uses the pad of his thumb to rub you through your underwear, making quick circles across the bundle of nerves. his pressure was too light to get any real friction and you buck and twitch against his thumb, but he catches you before you can get any satisfaction against him.

“yun, please,” you beg, chest growing hot. your knees are nearly touching the bed from your legs spread so wide, you didn’t have the energy to endure the teasing.

“please what?” the corner of his mouth lifts, brown hooded eyes full of amusement. you whine, frustration getting the best of you, not a care for what you look or sound like. you needed friction, relief.

“finger me, eat me out, i don’t care, please,” your words are rushed and breathy, audibly impatient. embarrassment is last on your list of worries right now.

“yes ma’am,” he nods and pushes your underwear to the side, not even taking the time to fully take them off of you. you mentally thank him for it.

he’s quick to spread your slick up your slit, letting out a pleased noise at how wet you are. you were wet the second he said the word marriott at the club, it’s been steadily accumulating since, you thought about him and what’s to come nonstop until you clocked out. he pushes a finger inside, hooking it upwards, pulling a guttural moan from inside you, ripping you out of your thoughts.

your head shoots back into the bed, back arching, hips bucking into his hand for more. his other hand goes to grip onto your hip as you steadily rock against his finger, he’s amazed at how hungry you are for it, how shameless you could be for what you needed. he’s watching with wide eyes, not even pushing back into you, letting you guide yourself to pleasure against him. letting you use him.

“almost forgot what a fucking slut you are,” his teeth are showing through his wide grin, eyes dark and glossed over. you’re a moaning mess, words already mushing together into something entirely unintelligible, grateful for some form of relief even though its nowhere near what you need from him.

“only f’you,” you mumble out in between moans, eyes opening to see his gaze strictly focused on your cunt that’s swallowing his finger so greedily, “more, please?”

“awh, you my nice girl tonight?” he finally meets your eyes, “whatever my girl wants.”

he leans down and accompanies his finger with his mouth, immediately wrapping his lips around your clit. you yelped out, hands reaching out to tug at his hair, pulling him closer to your throbbing clit. he flattened his tongue against your folds and you started weeping, moans and words combining into a string of noises.

he added another finger inside you and started at a brutal pace, tongue flicking at your clit at the same rhythm. his fingers curled with each thrust, looking for that sweet, spongy spot inside you. as your fingers tightened around his roots and a loud cry left your lips, he knew he found it.

“taste so fucking good,” he said into you, not even bothering to look up at you. he was lost in your pretty pussy, the pussy he’s been dreaming about for weeks. the same pussy he’s been wishing for during sex with every other woman since you. now he has you under him, naked and screaming for him once again. yunho was overflowing with satisfaction and pride.

satisfaction, pride and a lust so great, his cock began aching in his pants. he started grinding against the mattress mindlessly, in the same rhythm as he was using on your cunt, small moans and grunts leaving his lips just adding to your own pleasure. you could feel the familiar knot in your stomach tightening, building steadily.

the same as him, you’d also been looking for another life-changing fuck since that night you spent together. all the worries you felt earlier were long gone, like they never happened in the first place. all that mattered was yunho and the impending orgasm he was giving you, this is all that was important to begin with.

“close,” you moaned out, “i’m sofuckingclose yunho don’t stop!”

he let you have it, let it consume you. it nearly blinded you, your orgasm, your head dug so fucking deep into the mattress and your joints locked up so hard it had you seeing stars on the inside of your eyelids. he guided you through it, steadily pumped his fingers and kept his pattern on your clit until you were thrashing against him, hands pulling up on his hair to get him off of you.

he had half a mind to keep going, pleasure you through the overstimulation, he needed to see you cum again. with your eyes rolled into the back of your head, back arched up and lethal noises leaving your lips… he could watch it on repeat for days, months, years. it’s his new favorite movie. he let you come down, tore his lips off of you, slowing his fingers movements down to nothing.

he quickly crawled back up to kiss you, tongue sliding into your mouth, and you tasted yourself happily. your hands trailed up his arms that stood strong beside your head, then down his chest, down to his waistband. your fingers slipped underneath his boxers to grip his length, and the action almost made him cum in his pants, his patience is running too thin. he’s so fucking horny, so blue balled by the mattress he just fucked his hips into like a middle schooler, he needed release and he needed it fast, despite wanting this night to last a lifetime.

his hips bucked into your hand and you giggled, “i think you missed me.”

“you have no fucking idea,” is all he responds as he pulls away from you, slipping his sweats down to his ankles and then off of him entirely. you make quick work of getting your panties off, the black lace seeing enough action for one night. you needed to feel him against you, all of him, no barriers.

“enlighten me then,” you spit into your hand as he crawls above you once more, spreading it all over his already leaking cock. he grunts out, hips twitching, he needed you just as bad as you needed him.

“missed these fucking tits,” he said as he grabs your chest, squeezing them hard. you kept your pace on his cock, tugging upward, circling your hand around him.

“missed your pretty face,” he leaned down and planted a kiss on your lips then another on your jawline.

“missed eating that sweet pussy,” he leaned down, out of reach for you to keep stroking him, and spit on your already too slick cunt while holding your legs up.

“missed fucking you stupid,” he lined himself up, spreading his precum and spit all over your folds. you hissed out, hips bucking to meet him, hoping to push him inside you already.

“missed hearing you when you cum,” he matched your impatience and pushed inside, met with no resistance, sheathing himself inside you without hesitation. you screamed, screamed so fucking loud the entire hotel probably heard you, not expecting him to fill you so fast.

“missed that sound, too,” he smiled, bottoming out, and you couldn’t respond. couldn’t do anything but breathe, the sheer length of him overwhelming, stealing your senses. he filled you so good, so right, you couldn’t form thoughts let alone words. primal instinct took over, your body moved before your brain could process.

“need you to stop squeezing me so i can move, baby,” he grunts out, eyebrows furrowing, “missed this tight pussy too much, all i could think about for weeks.”

“ho- holy fuck yunho, y’split me fucking open,” you choke out, trying to relax your muscles, trying to get your breathing even.

“what’s that you called me earlier? spine breaker?” he asked, and his demeanor was too cool, too casual. like being inside of you wasn’t affecting him nearly as much as it was affecting you. you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you nodded, the only response you could muster.

he chuckled, chuckled, while being balls deep inside you, “that’s a new one.”

that’s all he said before he started moving. with no warning, if you weren’t sure before that he split you fucking open, you were definitely sure now. you were a screaming mess underneath him as he rutted into you, long fingers hooked under your knees, pressing them toward your head, you only got louder.

“fucking h-hell, yunho,” you cried out, eyes lolling back again as he fucked into you at a harsh pace.

“so fucking wet,” his knuckles were turning white at his grip on your legs, pistoling himself at a rhythm only he could keep up with, easily rearranging your insides.

“you can take it,” he says before you can say a word, he can see your eyebrows furrowed, your moans muzzled down to small sounds of despair leaving your lips. he knows he’s being rough, he knows he’s fucking you harshly, but you’ve taken it before, so you can do it again.

“yun, i don- i can’t—”

“yes you can,” he encourages, but it doesn’t feel much like encouragement as he only picks up the pace.

he gives you a second to breathe when he pulls out, but he only flips you over, pulling you up by your hips so you’re on all fours. you hiccup, already reduced to jelly, you don’t know if your legs can withstand the force of his thrusts.

“slutty little cunt has taken me before, she’ll do it again,” his words are just as harsh as his thrusts as he slips back in, pushing your back down into the mattress with a large hand when it inevitably rises to meet his thrusts.

your face meets the pillow, turning to the side so you can at least breathe, tears wetting the mattress at his relentless abuse at your cunt. he reaches around your hips and brings a finger to your clit, rubbing quick circles, and god you don't even know what sounds are coming out of you at this point.

tears and screams are leaving you, but your hips are fucking back on him, meeting his thrusts, and he’s smiling. wide, teeth showing, he’s so prideful. he knew you could do it, take him, take whatever he’s giving you, because you’re a slut. his slut. he won’t let you out of his hands again.

“f-fuck ‘m close, fuck,” he can hear the sobs through your words, he only wishes he could see the tears that are now soaking the mattress, no doubt ruining your makeup.

he could feel it in himself too, he was far too close to be fucking you like this. as much as he needed release, he wasn’t ready to cum just yet. he wanted to see you.

he flipped you back over, slipping back inside you with ease, and your arms immediately hooked around his neck to pull him into a kiss.

it was sweet, almost soft, the way you were kissing him when the way he fucked you was almost dehumanizing. like you didn’t matter, your pleasure was up to you, yet you both knew that was far from the truth. his thrusts kept up as he kissed you slow, nasty, tongues moving in tandem with another. you were whimpering in his mouth and he could feel you tightening around him, he knew you were close.

“there you go baby, cum on this cock,” he broke the kiss, keeping your foreheads together, plowing into you with fervor.

“gonna,” tears still streamed down your face, back arching so your chests met, skin touching skin. he needed you to cum now, he could feel his continence slipping.

you finally tightened around him, really tightened around him, a high pitched, languid moan leaving your lips. he only repeated yes, yes as you shook against him, creaming around his cock. he finally let his release take him over, burying himself inside you, filling you up.

you could feel every drop, the warmth spreading through you like wildfire, there was no other feeling like it. it was comforting, being so full, being so heavy with this huge man resting his weight on top of you.

he finally rolls off, laying beside you, catching his breath just as you were.

“it’s kinda crazy that you came to my club tonight,” you take your hair out of it’s entanglement on top of your head, letting it fall free on the bed, “i really thought i’d never see you again.”

“i’d never let that happen,” he shook his head, eyes closed as he laid beside you, chest still heaving.

“what do you mean?” you turned to look at him, “you knew i worked there?”

“nah, i’m just lucky.”

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morose-melodies · 5 months ago

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hello!

First,i have something to say to the fatuis in the pregnant reader fic...JOKES ON YOU İ HAVE A HİGH CHANCE OF MİSSCARRİAGE AND PROBABLY NEVER HAVE KİDS(we can act like this part doesnt exists)

anyway,onto the point.Can i request capitano,dottore,Childe and pantalone with a reader who acts really REALLY cold towards them and refuses to ask any favor from them?like- even if they are thirsty in the middle of the night,they would just sleep,wait until the morning and then ask one of the maids for a cup of water.if anything here makes you uncomfortable you are free to ignore it!

cold as snezhnaya | various! yandere! fatui harbinger x reader

a/n: I got a little bit lazy sorry!!

CAPITANO

capitano would bend over back for you, he'd do whatever you pleased... if only you'd ask.

initially, the captain hadn't noticed your cold demeanor, or... he simply didn't pay mind to it. perhaps you were having a bad day? well, he'd do everything in his power to make you feel better.

but, it never seemed to work.

no matter how many times he'd come home to you after a long grueling mission, you were still the same.

he had tried approaching you differently, giving you space, and even coming home with gifts. nothing worked.

perhaps you were afraid of him? he would remove his mask and armor before approaching you, and he would try to smile more for you - once again, nothing worked.

he wouldn't give up on you, ever. you were worth fighting for.

"(y/n)," he approached you one early morning, watching from a distance as you poured yourself, "how have you been? is there anything you'd like?"

he could hear you sigh once he started speaking.

"no."

he, too, sighed. you were complex - confusing but capitano wanted to figure you out. he wanted to suit you and be whatever pleased you.

but, he had tried everything. if he were being honest with himself, he was getting frustrated - not with you but himself.

he placed a hand on the counter, and watched you. he wanted to plead with you, to understand how you were feeling, to understand why.

"is there something upsetting you? you could tell me and we would-"

"no. no, I'm fine."

you took your tea and turned to leave.

the captain prided himself on his self-control. he would never lash out at you, so, why did he take a large step towards you and grab your arm?

if you weren't afraid of him before, surely you were now.

"(y/n), please. tell me what I could do for you, anything, ask anything of me. do you not understand how much I care for you?"

when you tried to pull away, a shocked look on your face, his grip tightened, "(y/n), answer me. do it or I swear to the archons-"

"let go-!" tugging once again, you tried to free your arm from his painful grip, "let me go! that's what i want."

he released you immediately.

if you asked, he'd never show his face to you again.

"(y/n), forgive me," he started, looking at you, at the way you looked at him and couldn't finish - he stood there, his heart pounding hard against his chest.

he was the worst, was he not?

he would spend the rest of his life working for your forgiveness, and wouldn't regret a second of it.

DOTTORE

dottore had been considering something immoral as of late.

you've been acting differently, rude even and that was him putting it nicely. sure, he had been selfish by taking you from your home to be with him.

but, he was a selfish man.

your behavior was looked down upon, oh, how dottore hated it. it was unreasonable and immature.

he wished you'd grow up and talk to him about it instead of sulking and dragging your feet around the manor.

after a few attempts, dottore had given up on tending to your needs; he stopped trying to make you feel at home.

it didn't exactly matter how you felt, did it? you were here to make him happy, no? so, why were you making him feel so frustrated?

the sound of shattering glass caught dottore's attention - looking down at his bloodied hand, he saw that he had squeezed the small vial just a bit too hard.

you were becoming a distraction, a very bad problem.

now, as for what he was considering. well, he wanted you to change, to be the lovable angel you once were, it seemed impossible, oh, but it wasn't. not for him anyway.

and, it only took him five months to perfect it. in the form of a small pill was a life-changing drug.

"go get (y/n) for me," dottore asked of an assistant, pocketing the pill with his bloodied hand, oops. dottore looked at his hand, grimacing, he'd need to patch it up sooner than later.

a few minutes had passed when the assistant came back, peeking into the officer nervously, "come in - don't just stand there," dottore shook his head at the man.

"she's asleep, sir."

oh yes, it was nearly four in the morning. dottore nodded and waved the man off, he pocketed the pill and bandaged his hand.

...

while you were idly staring out a window, dottore dropped the pillow into your tea as he passed you by.

he'd be lying if he said he wasn't feeling even a little bit excited.

soon enough, you'd be the same (y/n) he met years ago, he mused as he made his way to his bedroom. oh, he needed rest badly and his back was killing him.

you took the mug and sipped the drink.

you pressed your cheek against the cold glass once more, your warm breath fogging up the glass. in the next few hours, you would idly sip your drink until it was gone.

dottore slept soundly, having forgotten about everything he'd done in the past few months. he was exhausted.

so, when you opened his bedroom door, peeking in at him.

he was confused.

"dottore, could I sleep beside you?"

"... of course," nonetheless, he agreed, how could he deny you?

CHILDE

childe had randomly, at some point, anticipated that you might hate him and never return the love he feels for you.

it was a passing thought, though. he'd never sat down and thought of how he'd react, or how he'd convince you to love him.

but, now that he's in that exact situation, he's been thinking nonstop about it.

he didn't want you to hate him - he didn't want you to feel out of place in snezhnaya, he wanted you to be loved, and feel safe - he wanted you to feel at home.

seeing that you didn't enjoy being here or anywhere near him, his mind was fuzzy - he hadn't thought a straight thought in a while, especially when you were near. he wanted to hug you, or drop to his knees and beg you to love him back - if it would work, then he'd do it.

he was getting a bit desperate.

it was getting increasingly uncomfortable to sit in silence while eating by your side - shouldn't the two of you be talking to one another; enjoying each other's presence like normal couples?

clearing his throat, ajax asked, "how's the food, (y/n)? my... my mom used to make it all the time when i was little. huh, it's probably not giving her justice... her's had a distinct taste."

he was met with silence.

uncomfortable silence.

"... she would make it for my birthday... uh, it was my favorite."

you glanced at him, before looking back down at your food.

childe sighed, resting his chin into his palm as he looked at you. he was super frustrated "you're upsetting me, (y/n)... as much as i hate to admit it."

you lifted your head to look at him, your eyebrow raised, your fork hanging in your hand, "why's that?"

it was that! that exact attitude, that's why he was so upset! without much of a second thought, childe tugged you out of your chair, holding onto your arm tightly.

"gosh, (y/n), what's with you!? I love you, i love you so much! s-so why are you acting like this!? just tell me! tell me so i can make it better!"

squeezing your arms, his hands trembled. he was at his wits end with you; he just wanted your love, was that too much to ask for?

pulling you against his chest, he hugged you tightly, "(y/n), what did I do so wrong?" he pressed his lips to the top of your head, kissing you. "let me make it better, please let me fix this."

PANTALONE

pantalone only ever gave you his best.

in appearance and attitude. you'd never catch him being angry, or having his hair disheveled - that was below him.

so, he couldn't understand why you were appreciative of all the effort he put into you - he would buy you nice clothing, hire maids to do your hair, have large breakfasts made for you, and even allow you to roam the garden freely.

he does all of that and yet you won't even speak to him willingly - it was disheartening, least to say.

but, he was understanding. you were scared, that had to be it, right? this was a very sudden change for you, of course, you were afraid.

or so, he thought.

as time passed, and he gave you time and space, he realized you were just cold to him and now, he simply couldn't understand why.

he treated you very well; he gave you affection and nice things, and he even gave you space when it seemed you needed it.

but, no matter what he did, he had never gotten a single 'thank you' from you. you had no manners and that upset him more than anything.

admittedly, he had gotten too angry.

watching you roam the snowy garden without as much as a coat frustrated him, but it mattered not; he'd give you his coat, and you would thank him if that was the last thing you did.

"(y/n), are you enjoying the garden?"

"I am."

"are you not cold?" as he walked nearer to you, he noticed you shifted away from him. once again, it did not matter! he would form you into a respectable person.

"no."

"you and I both know that's not true, here," slipping off his coat, he placed it over your shoulders and manually slipped your arms through the sleeves, "there - I'm sure you feel much better now, no?"

you stared down at the flowers, your lips pressed into a thin line.

oh, so you were upset now? "it was very gentlemanly of me to offer you my coat, a thank you would be kind."

he was simply suggesting it, or that's what his tone suggested anyway.

"I didn't ask for your coat, here you can have it back," you sighed, attempting to remove the coat to give back to him, "I'll go back in soon. it doesn't matter."

"no, no," he shook his head, placing a hand on your shoulder to keep the coat on, "it wouldn't kill you to thank me. have some manners, (y/n)."

he could see it in your expression, you were agitated. well, too bad.

"... (y/n), you're kidding me," he was surprised you'd be so stubborn, "can you not thank me? when have i ever asked this of you? not once. so, humble you-"

"thank you, pantalone, for the coat," you cut him off, glaring as you walked past him to go back inside.

it was a start! pantalone would take it. so, smiling to himself, he looked down at the flowers before him.

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kjthenbee · 3 months ago

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The more I think about the Nandermo interview scene at the end of S6E3, the more I realize just how significant that entire scene is for Nandor as a character.

These first three episodes have told us multiple times that Nandor is not the person he used to be - he is no longer a purely violent, apathetic, selfish man (though he obviously retains some of those qualities). He's changed - he's softer. And Guillermo is the reason for this change.

We've seen how Nandor used to treat Guillermo early on in the series. I can imagine that when little 19yo Guillermo first came to him, Nandor was dismissive, thinking of him as nothing more than another familiar that he was going to string along for years - and, of course, bright-eyed young Guillermo, who was willing to do whatever it took to become a vampire, wouldn't have cared how he was treated.

But now, 15 some years later, everything is different. Guillermo isn't his familiar anymore. They aren't bound by the power imbalance of that relationship any longer. Guillermo has become someone important to Nandor, possibly more important than anyone has ever been before. No matter how much shit they've gone through, or how much Nandor has fucked things up, Guillermo has always stayed, and he has always cared. Even when he does leave, he never stays gone for long. Nandor has never experienced this type of a relationship with someone before - a relationship with someone who loves and cares for him unconditionally.

In the interview scene, Nandor totally could have messed with Guillermo, could have just... not taken him seriously. He could have done the interview in the main room with all the other vampires and had a laugh about the whole thing, but he didn't. He specifically took Guillermo to a private room to conduct the "interview". And the entire time, he treated it with the utmost sincerity- and you can see it in the way he looks at Guillermo with such attentiveness, such fondness. He lets him talk, and just listens. When Guillermo talks about not having many friends as a child, Nandor sympathizes and tells him that that must have been hard even if he himself does not know what this is like. He smiles with him, and laughs with him.

On top of all of this, Nandor very much could have left Guillermo hypnotized - he could have had his former meek, obedient familiar back by his side. The Nandor from just a couple of seasons ago might have done just that. But now, he's learned. He knows that he can't do that to Guillermo. He can't do that to someone he genuinely loves cares about deeply. The Guillermo that he knows now - confident, competent, and sure of himself - is the Guillermo he loves. Nandor does not want to take that away from him for his own selfish reasons. So, he just lets himself have one thing: Guillermo can sleep under the stairs one last time, then he'll unhypnotize him, and things will be back to the way they were - with them at a distance. But at least Guillermo will be himself.

Soooo yeah. I really hope that this is not just fanservice or whatever and that the writers are actually setting something up between them this time. I want so badly to believe that we might actually get some payoff to this 5 season long will-they-won't-they setup. I mean, seriously - what do the writers have to lose with this being the final season?

I'm trying not to keep my expectations too high just because of how many times we've been burned in the past, but this scene (along with the shed scene where Nandor was still talking like Nixon lmao) have gotten me hopeful again...

So here I am, back in Nandermo hell, one last time...

#nandermo #wwdits #wwdits meta #wwdits s6 #wwdits spoilers #nandor the relentless #guillermo de la cruz #nandor x guillermo #guillermo x nandor #what we do in the shadows

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d0youc0py · 11 months ago

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heyy - 🍄

Can you write something with 141 reacting to the reader going to sleep alone in another room? like just the reader wanting to be alone or they fought. the way you prefer

Hurt/comfort ♥️ your writing is my favorite

Hi! 🍄Thank you so much! I absolutely loved this prompt!

He thought you were being dramatic. Too sensitive. And he made sure to let you know.

“It was just a joke, sweetheart. Nothing more. I’m a light sleeper, you know that.” His voice was careful, yet firm.

Even though he had assured you he hadn’t meant anything by it, here you were, staring at the ceiling as pm turned into am. He had his arm snug around you, tucking you under his chin. Normally this position had you out like a light, but now you were just focusing on trying not to breath too hard.

Earlier that day the two of you were relaxing on the couch when you commented on his yawn.

“You’ve been yawning a lot, Si. Should put you to bed early.” You snickered.

“Your fault.” He yawned again. “Movin around every five second.” His tone was teasing. His fingers even brushed up and down your foot that was resting in his lap. Despite this, your heart dropped. Were you really that uncomfortable to share a bed with?

Laying in bed was growing increasingly uncomfortable. Your side ached from you spending too much time on it. Your nose hadn’t stopped itching and it took everything in your power not to scratch it every five seconds. Even your quieted breathing felt like it was shaking the bed. The guest room was sounding more and more inviting. You’d be able to flip over whenever you wanted. Scratch that nose of yours, all without having to worry about stirring the sleeping giant behind you.

You carefully gripped his arm and squirmed your way out from under it. He woke up halfway, holding his arm up for you.

“Sorry, Si.” You whispered, guilt already tugging at you.

“Don’t even think about it.” He assured in a groan. He watched with curious eyes as you disappeared down the hall, instead of going to the bathroom like he assumed you were. You must be getting water.

One minuted turned into three, then three turned into five. He huffed, rubbing a hand over his face, your side of the bed already growing uncomfortably cold. His socked feet sunk into the plush carpet as he made his way down the hall. The kitchen light wasn’t on, but the guest bedroom that was normally shut was wide open. Even in the darkness he could make out the lump of your body- already asleep.

The realization was instant. And it hurt.

“Sweetheart.” He knocked at the open door. He didn’t feel too bad about waking you up. He needed to. You gasped awake, your head springing up from the pillows. It seemed even your absence kept him awake. “What do I have to say for you to get out of that head of yours?” He hummed, plopping down next to you. He leaned over you, pressing a slow kiss against your forehead.

“I just feel bad knowing I’m constantly waking you up.” You murmured, rubbing at your eyes.

“Sweetheart, waking up to you isn’t something to feel bad about. It’s nice, being woken up just because someone wants to be closer to you. Now we are going to knock it off with all this ‘afraid to wake me up shit’ and go back to our bed, you hear me?”

You did hear him.

“John, enough! I’m tired of arguing with you, I’m ready to go to bed.” You growled. He followed closely behind you towards the bedroom, unbuttoning his white dress shirt.

“Yeah, let’s just go to bed and forget all of this happened.” He mumbled from behind you. You began tugging off your clothes, throwing a glare his way.

“Don’t do that.” You chided, throwing you clothes on top of his in the hamper.

“Do what?” He gruffed back.

“Mumble things under your breath.” You explained. He tsked and rolled his eyes at you. The action caused another flare to ignite in your stomach. He reached into his dresser and pulled out a nightshirt, tugging it over his head. He reached back in and grabbed one for you, holding it out to you expectantly. It was your favorite shirt of his to wear.

“I’m not wearing that.” You spat, turning away from him. You marched to your shared bed and grabbed your pillow, beginning to make your way down the hallway.

“Where are you going?” He stopped you. His large frame taking up the whole doorway.

“John”-

“Love.” His voice was calm and you hated it. He should be more upset. Upset that you were upset with him. “Don’t go”-

“Why should I liste”-

“You need to stay in bed with me. That’s where you belong.” He said it as though it was a fact. “I know you’re not too happy with me right now, but you aren’t sleepin away from me tonight, honey. Now let’s go brush our teeth.”

*this is so dramatic*

Johnny had fucked up. He admitted it too. Yet it seemed no matter how many apologies flowed from him- you were determined to put a rift between the two of you. At least that’s how he saw it.

You yawned next to him on the couch, your hand brushing some hair out of your eyes.

“Gettin sleepy?” He hummed. You smiled softly, nodding your head.

“Should probably head to bed.” You yawned, stretching as you stood.

“You remember where it is?” It was a snotty comment. Distasteful. You had been sleeping in the guest bedroom for the past week. He was able to choke down his hatred for it the first few days, but after you referred to it as “your room” all grace had been lost.

“You just can’t help yourself can you?” You growled, not bothering to wait for an answer.

“Just don’t understand why you’re so hell bent on punishing me.” He shouted after you. You stopped, turning on your heels.

“Punishing you?” You snarled. “The only one getting punished in this situation is me John. I know to you I’m being dramatic but I really don’t know how I can trust you after all those shitty things you said to me.”

His chest twisted and his hand scratched at his shirt.

“I don’t know what else to do, sweetheart.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft and it made you feel worse than you already did. “I’ve apologized in more ways than one and I’m still not getting through to you. I’m not saying I’m giving up, I just miss you. I know lashing out at you isn’t the answer.” He sighed rubbing at his face. He was exhausted- that was evident just by looking at him. You were his safe place- his favorite person in the whole world and he hurt you. “I made a mistake saying nasty shite to you, but I hope you remember everything before that. We’ve been together for years and I hoped I’ve showed you just how much I love you in that time.”

By the end of his speech tears were rolling down your cheeks.

“Dammit, Mac.” You huffed. You moved forward quickly, practically flinging yourself at him. He reciprocated immediately, wrapping his arms tight around you with no intention to let you go. He wouldn’t let go till you forgave him.

You woke up to two arms wrapping around you.

“Ky.” You grumbled sleepily.

“You took so much medicine, I didn’t think you’d wake up.” He whispered back. You were sick and the last thing you wanted to do was get Kyle sick. He rubbed his hands over your stomach, the action already lulling you back to sleep.

“I just don’t want to make you sick.” You murmured. He ‘tsked’ at you, pulling you even closer to his warm body. You wished it was easier to stay away from him. He was the perfect temperature for your chilled body and he smelled like vanilla and coffee.

“I’d wear it like a badge of honor.” He smiled against you. You rolled your eyes.

“You just always find a way to make everything romantic don’t you.”

“Well I had to get you to fall for me one way.”

“Are you going to be this cheeky when you get sick?” You hummed.

“I wasn’t planning on it, but challenge accepted.”

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dear-ao3 · 4 months ago

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hey wait im also new to f1 but i saw the other ask and i was curious abt what you meant when you said no one will ever do it like nico rosberg?? also retiring after your first championship win is insane lmao what a power move

nico rosberg is just. he’s insane. he’s cunty. he’s wonderful. he possesses sass and audacity unlike any other. we unfortunately do not have time to get into his whole story (my lunch break is only so long) but here’s some highlights:

-technically he’s a nepo baby. his dad, keke rosberg, won the world championship in 1982 and they remain one of the Few father son duos to both win a world championship (don’t ask me who the others are idk but i know they exist)

-he and lewis hamilton met when they were kids in the late 90s sometime and were gokarting teammates at some point in i think the early 2000s? (not fact checking i don’t have the time rn) and they were Besties. they’ve talked about this before, mostly in older interviews, but the gist is that both of them were outcasts from the other karting kid in opposite ways (nico was the son of a champion and rich and lewis was from nothing and pretty much the only poc most of the time) and that drew them together and they were Menaces according to legend. everything was a competition and they trashed hotel rooms and ate pizza and ice cream and kellogg frosties and went to greece and dreamed of being in f1 together

-nico signed with williams in 2006. his teammate was mark webber. and nico had long flowing blonde hair (this is important). he crashed at one race and mark webber said “britney’s in the wall” cementing the nickname britney, like britney spears. jenson button (another driver) said later on that they called nico britney because he was “very pretty” (do with that what you will)

-he was just. insane. cunty. constantly looked like a european bond villain. wore god awful shoes. whole bit. once he stayed in his car when it got craned off the track cause he didn’t want his hair to get wet. which is insane cause he’s wearing a helmet it would have gotten equally as not wet had he gotten out.

-anyway, lewis made it to f1 in 2007 and they had their first podium together i think that year (?) and it’s cute and fun and oh boy you’re not ready for what these two have coming

-lewis won the championship in 2008 (but he almost won in 2007, his rookie year) at mclaren.

-nico went to mercedes when they recentered the grid in 2010. his teammate was michael schumacher, who was fresh out of retirement. (yes the michael schumacher, 7x world champion). michael fucked with nico endlessly according to legend, including making him piss in a bucket pre race because he would hog the bathroom until the last possible second. nico still out preformed him most of the time, and the car was mid as hell.

-michael retired part 2 at the end of 2012. and who replaced him but lewis hamilton

-so the two of them were teammates again. the cards were absolute Stacked against them. because yes they were besties yes they’d known eachother forever but the first person you’re judged against is your teammate. and you’re trying to beat your teammate. and lewis already had a championship. nico wanted a championship.

-2013 was relatively chill. the car was kinda mid. they did well but not fantastic and did some fuck ass pr (highly reccomend looking those videos up)

-2014 they had a car that could win. and they started fighting eachother for wins. they played all kinds of mind games against eachother and withheld stats and nico ran illegal engine modes (supposedly) and lewis said they were no longer friends after nico supposedly wrecked his monaco qualifying one year but they claimed they still supported eachother and were friends off track. lewis won in 2014 and in 2015. but nico was right behind him and he wanted to win a championship, he didn’t want to be a number 2 driver

-so in 2016 nico did some insane shit. he stopped sleeping with his wife so that he could get better sleep or something, he did weird things to cut weight, he basically did everything and then some to win. and then he did. he won the championship and then at the prize giving ceremony announced he was retiring. he didn’t tell lewis this.

more after i get off work :)

#not a tag #from saph #nico rosberg

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dreamescapeswriting · 1 year ago

Text

Stray Kids Reaction - You Disappear While Pregnant [Mafia Edition]

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

TW: mentions of violence, blood and swearing

CHAN:

Things had been feeling weird all day to Chan, you hadn't replied to any of his messages when usually you were the text-back immediately type of person - with him at least. But he tried to put off the uneasy feeling he got when he thought about it all, the two of you were strong as a couple and him worrying you about not replying wasn't the type of man that he was.

"Changbin, make sure Yn has had something to eat today," Chan said as he came through the door of your shared home, expecting to see you curled up on the sofa doing something but you were nowhere to be seen. It was unlike you to not come and greet him so he figured maybe you were tired and had gone to sleep. Maybe even just popped into the garden and hadn't heard him arrive home.

"She's not here," Changbin called from upstairs, panic began to wash over Chan as he thought through his day. You hadn't said anything the night before about going out and you hadn't been responding to him. Within seconds Chan was making his way up the stairs and into your shared bedroom where he found some of your clothes missing and a suitcase was gone too.

"Fuck! Fuck!" Chan screamed making his way to the bathroom and finding a bunch of your overnight supplies were missing too. This wasn't like you, you weren't the type to run away and it wasn't as though the two of you had just had a fight. Everything was going great for you both, god, you were getting married in less than a year now and Chan thought everything was okay.

"I've started a search and Felix is watching the cameras to see where she went. We'll find her." Changbin said as he watched Chan in the bathroom, he was just sitting on the edge of the tub looking down at the floor trying to rack his brain for any reason you might have done this.

"Just find her, tell me when you do but don't make a move." He mumbles, standing up from the side of the tub and knocking over a bin failing to notice the positive pregnancy test that had fallen onto the floor.

It had been eight months since you walked out on Chan and they had been the worst eight months of your life, every day was a struggle and it didn't help that you were pregnant.

"Not now, please not now." You groaned as you held onto your bump, letting out a sharp breath as you tried your best to ignore the pain in your back. God, it felt as though someone was stabbing you repeatedly as you prayed for the train to hurry and arrive where you needed to be.

"Mummy, that woman peed herself." A little girl giggled before the train stopped and you hurried off of it and in the direction of some metal seats on the train station platform. It wasn't time, it was too early for the baby to be coming right this second and you were nowhere near a doctor and you weren't about to give birth to your baby on a train platform.

"Do you need me to call you an ambulance?" The mother of the little girl asked as she made her way over to you, you studied her face for a second before nodding your head. You'd grown a little paranoid since running away from Chan, you knew he was probably doing everything within his power to find you and it wasn't something you wanted to happen. You needed him to stay away from you,

"That won't be necessary." A voice said from the side, you stared over in the direction to see a very panicked-looking Chan making his way toward you. There was sweat dripping down his forehead and he was red in the face, clearly, he'd been running but you had no idea how he'd found you. You weren't in Seoul anymore, you left the second you had the chance to.

"She needs medical attention, she's in labour." The woman argued but you couldn't get words out to tell her to stop you were in far too much pain.

"I'll get her to the hospital," Chan said before Felix and Jeongin escorted the lady and her daughter away and you whimpered a little.

"Channie-" You whimpered out, tears streaming down your cheeks,

"It's nice to know you still like that nickname," His voice came out cold as a group of men began to make their way over to you and you stared at the one in the centre before trying to get up.

"Sit." He ordered gently placing his hand on your shoulder.

"I-I need to go, I can't be near you." You hissed trying to move but Chan was holding your hand, refusing to let you go.

"C-Channie please." You begged your eyes scanning the man at the other end of the platform.

"He said we can't...W-We can't be together." Just like that everything began to click into place for Chan. The only reason you'd left the way you did months ago was because of Hongjoong, he'd told you that it wasn't the right thing for Chan and threatened you to leave without saying anything.

"Who did?" He growled out, your eyes flicking behind him.

"Hongjoong...He said a baby will ruin things." Time suddenly moved slowly as you watched Chan stare over at his advisor and back down at you.

"That's why you ran?" You hated that you couldn't answer him with words and nodded at him.

“Fuck what they think, fuck what anyone thinks. It won't ruin anything, our little baby will only make things better." He promised you as you heard sirens coming.

He was right, of course, he was he always was, but your little girl had only made things better between you and Chan and even made some of his men more loyal to him. They protected you more than ever whenever you were out alone with just you and your little girl and Hongjoong had been demoted so he was no longer able to speak to you - something you'd begged Chan to do instead of killing the man

MINHO:

Everything was too much when you were with Minho and everything pushed you over the edge until there was no coming back from it. For a while, it seemed that all the two of you ever did was fight and scream at one another and you'd finally had enough and just left. No note, you'd choose a week where you knew he was going to be so busy with his own world that he wasn't going to notice you gone. A week gave you enough time to disappear into the world with a new identity and to create a whole new life for yourself.

Or so you'd thought.

It had been even harder to do this for yourself since you happened to be pregnant. Something you had no idea at the time of running away until it was too late. It wasn't until your third month when you found out and there was no way you were going back, even if you didn't think you could raise a baby alone you were still going to do everything within your power to try.

"Are you sure you're okay walking home alone? I can get Angel to walk with you." Your boss stated as he watched you heading for the door of the bar. Angel was one of the bouncers who worked there, someone who looked like he could scare the stripes off a tiger.

"Nah, I'm good. I'll catch the train so there's no point." You shrugged before heading out into the dark of the night and making your way through the alleyway.

For eight months your life had been good, you'd gotten away from Seoul and everyone who ever knew you, you had a new identity you went by and no one could connect you to Minho anymore. You worked your own job, had your own place - sure it wasn't the best but it was still home - and your boss was even letting you bring your kid to work since he knew how badly you needed the money.

"So this is where you've been hiding?" A voice sounded from behind you and you didn't need to see him to know it was Minho and it felt like your whole world was coming down around you.

"How did you find me?" Your voice shook but you didn't turn around to face him just yet, you didn't know if he knew about your pregnancy.

"It wasn't easy. I taught you well."

"I was a fast learner." You mumbled a little, you knew this was going to end with him seeing your bump but you couldn't bring yourself to face him.

"Why did you run off, little bird?" The nickname he had for you made your heart flutter and you hated that he still had that kind of effect on you after all this time. But then again, it didn't matter how much time passed you still found yourself hopelessly in love with him.

"I had my reasons." You pulled your coat tighter around yourself but it did little to hide the bump that you were sporting,

"Another man?" You scoffed a little at him you both knew that there was no way you'd ever do that to him.

"You know I'd never do that."

"True. So what was it?" You heard his steps getting closer to you until he was right behind you and you slowly turned to face him, letting your coat fall down to the sides.

"Pregnant," His voice came out in a whisper and he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"You need to come back." He stated plainly, his eyes not leaving the bump you had but you were shaking your head at him,

“I don't think I can come back. Too much has happened, too much…water has passed under the bridge. I can't do with the fights anymore Minho, I can't." You choked out before you felt a pain in your back and you bent over a little clutching onto your stomach.

"You're pregnant with my child, you're coming home."

"N-No...I need the hospital," You whimpered looking at Minho who was already on the phone to emergency services.

"I've had Felix and Changbin fix the office into a nursery," Minho told you as he walked into the room to see you feeding your little boy.

"Did you tell them about needing to get more diapers?"

"I've got Chan and Seungmin on that job," He smiled proudly walking over and kissing the top of your head. It was going to take a long time to repair your relationship but a family together was something you were going to build from.

CHANGBIN:

You'd walked out on him, you'd just packed up your shit and walked away from him. You'd seen no point in staying in a relationship with someone who was never even there for most of it, missing birthdays and anniversaries that the two of you were supposed to share. You'd just walked out and tried to never look back, but it was damn near impossible when you were pregnant with his kid. Something he was also never there for, he'd never shown any interest in your baby, never came to appointments or shopping with you.

"Do you think he knows we're here?" You asked your bump as you looked out of the window. You were six months pregnant and constantly on the run which wasn't good, your doctors told you it wasn't good but what were you meant to do when one of the most powerful men in the world was looking for you?

There were sirens outside and you slid back into bed, sighing a little as you tried your best not to focus on what was going on outside. You were in one of the sketchiest neighbourhoods you'd ever seen and you were praying the lock you had on the door would be enough to keep you safe tonight.

“I've already lost her once I'm not going to lose her again,” Your eyes flew open and you saw Changbin standing at the end of your bed but it wasn't the room you'd fallen asleep in. Instead, all of the walls around you were white and there was a loud beeping coming from the side of you

"What the fuck?!" You screamed as you stared at him and then at the other men trying to see if you knew any of them but none of them felt familiar to you.

"Leave," Changbin ordered making a bunch of men you'd never seen before leave the room and you stared at him confused as to how he'd gotten you to a hospital without you waking up once.

"Glad you finally woke up princess," He sat down beside your bed and you stared at him, studying his face before folding your arms over your chest.

"You've resorted to kidnapping now?"

"If it means you'll come home, yes." You roll your eyes at him, of course, he would expect you to just come home after he'd done nothing to fix what he did in the past.

"Why? So you can ignore me and the baby for the rest of our lives?" You hissed bitterly before Changbin's hand took yours and he shook his head at you.

"I would never-"

"You never came to any appointments, you always forgot our anniversaries and my birthday. I was going to put our son through that!" You cut him off angrily and his eyes softened,

"He's a boy?" Tears began to build up in his eyes as he stared at you and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

"Yes...Yes, he's a boy." You mumbled before looking at the screen beside your bed, your heart rate and your son's were both displayed on the screen.

"I'll have them fix the nursery then. I'd been painting it to be pink." He chuckled a little taking his phone out of your pocket and leaving you even more confused than before.

"What?"

"I hadn't been ignoring you...w-well I had but I'd been working on a surprise. I was convinced we were having a girl so I had the nursery made up pink." He admitted before you whimpered a little.

"You did all of that?" You quizzed wondering where this side of him had been the whole time you’d known him

"I did, I would never just ignore you." You sniffled a little as tears began to roll down your face.

"You still kidnapped me." You reminded him as if he could ever forget. He’d spent months tracking you down and it was the best plan he’d ever done.

"With good reason." He added with a sly smirk making you giggle a little at him

"Still a crime,"

"When has that ever bothered me?" He smirked before kissing you gently.

HYUNJIN: EXTRA TRIGGER WARNING! Reader is slapped by a third party!

You slowly lifted your head and looked around your surroundings, nothing had changed in god knows how long you'd been here and you don't know why you held out hope for it to chance in the first place. The men that had taken you told you that the only reason you weren't dead was because of the baby, something that they were going to use as leverage over your husband.

"Morning sunshine, want some food?" One of the men - Lucas as you found out - taunted as he waved around food in front of you before eating it and making lewd sounds about how good it tasted. All of them made you feel physically sick to your stomach, they would taunt you with food or drinks whenever they had it only to give you just enough table scraps to keep you healthy.

"Hyunjin is going to kill you when he finds me." You spat out, looking up at the ceiling and whimpering a little. You were about eight months pregnant which meant at any point any stress could send you into an early labour and you were doing everything within your power to make sure it didn't happen. You weren't going to let a group of men take your daughter away.

"If he finds you, any day now you're going to pop, give us what we want and we'll kill you." You swallowed the lump in your throat because you knew he was right. If Hyunjin hadn't found you by now then there was a slim chance that he wasn't going to find you before you gave birth and it worried you.

You'd always had faith and trust in your husband but you didn't know how many days or even weeks you'd been here, you'd lost count since the men would sedate you to move you from a bed and back to a chair where they left you tied up for hours.

"The doc is coming later to check on the baby," Croft said as he looked at Lucas who simply nodded at him and went back to eating his food in front of you.

The doctor who had come to see you was really nice, great even and you could have sworn you'd seen him before.

"The baby is healthy, both of them have a healthy heartbeat but there is one slight problem." Your heart broke at the idea of a problem with your child.

"Is she okay?!" You panicked earning a slap across the face from Lucas for speaking out when you weren't supposed to and you whimpered looking down at the floor.

"The child is fine, the problem is Lucas." Before Lucas could question what was happening shots rang out throughout the warehouse and multiple men were shot dead on the floor leaving just you, the doctor and Lucas alive with a gun pointed at his head.

"Cut her free," The doctor ordered as a metal shutter began to open, you squinted in the direction and saw Hyunjin making his way through with a giant smile on his face.

"I knew you'd come but what took so fucking long!?" You screamed as you were finally free from the chair and slowly stood up.

"The little rat is too good at covering his tracks," Hyunjin grumbled as he held your face in his hands turning it from side to side as if he were checking you over. Once he saw that you were fine he let you go and turned his focus on the man that had taken you.

"You know," You started as you stared around the warehouse where about 60 of Hyunjin's men were waiting with their guns trained on him,

“There’s an unspoken rule where if this many people are trying to kill you, then you should be dead already.” You grumbled before Hyunjin wrapped his arm around you and nodded at his men, giving them the all clear for what they needed to do.

JISUNG:

What on earth made you think that you could do this? You couldn't do this and you were nowhere near ready like you thought you were. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you laid your head back on the edge of the bathtub, the water filled with blood and whatever else was coming out of you at this point and you cried to yourself.

"Fucking arsehole!" You screamed gripping the edges of the grungy tub that you were laid in, screaming out in agony as you tried to do the breathing techniques you'd been reading about.

Everyone had told you how beautiful birth was going to be but none of them told you about the pain you were going to feel, like how you felt as though someone was ripping you apart from your vagina. No drugs to help you, no one to tell you if you were dilated.

You were alone and in some sketchy neighbourhood and a dirty apartment with no one around you. No friends, no husband, completely alone because everyone had forgotten about you and left you behind.

"Why did you have to come now?! You couldn't have waited a few more weeks?!" You yelled through the tears, ignoring the sirens that were outside of the apartment building that you were currently residing inside. It was every day that sirens went flying through and you'd tried to drown them out but now it was impossible, you prayed that they were somehow for you. That Jisung had finally remembered you and came to get you but no hope.

Hongjoong had told you that Jisung would come and get you within a month of you hiding out in the "safe home" but it didn't feel much of a safe home when you were in the worst neighbour imaginable and felt at threat every second of the day. You did some deep breathing as you heard someone pounding on the door, probably telling you to be quiet but you were about to give birth in a tub there was no being quiet.

"Fuck...y-you," You whispered suddenly feeling as though your eyes were too heavy to keep open and you looked down at the water, it had to be time to push surely. There was no way you could keep going through all of this pain.

"Yn?!" The door to the bathroom burst open and Jisung was staring at you, wide-eyed as he took in the scene around him

"What are you-" Before he could finish asking you let out a loud scream as another contraction hit you and he was on his knees on the floor beside the tub.

"I've got you." He whispered as men rushed into the scene, looking away from your naked body.

“I feel like everyone just forgot I existed," You whispered out to Jisung, looking at him a little unsure if any of this was even real at his point.

"I killed Hongjoong," He mumbled wiping sweat off your forehead,

"Baby he made it look like you ran away, left me a note...I-I had no idea where you were." The pain from the birth and heartache all crashed into one as sobs began to leave your throat.

Weeks of hospital treatment later you were home once again but on bed rest, Jisung's orders not the doctor's. He was refusing to let you move for as long as humanly possible and did everything he could for you.

"I'm okay, I can run my own bath." You told Jisung as you watched him running a bubble bath for you while your baby slept soundly in the bedroom.

"I want to do this for you." He whispered as you held him from being. He was doing everything he could to make up for you being alone all this time, the guilt was overwhelming for him but you hadn't blamed him for a second.

FELIX:

Your head was killing you when you woke up and you tried to lift your hand to your head but it was met with resistance and the sound of metal clanging on the floor. You weren't home that was for sure and if you were you were going to kick your husband's butt for some silly prank he was pulling.

"What the fuck?" You looked at your wrists and saw a metal cuff around them and down at your ankles it was the same. Your eyes shot around the room and you saw a camera in the corner facing you and it had a blinking red light, meaning it was recording or live.

"Who the fuck are you?! What do you want?!" You did your best to sound as confident as possible but it was impossible since you had no idea who had taken you in the first place.

"Someone who wants revenge." A voice sounded before a door opened and an elderly man walked in with the help of a cane,

"Your husband took something...someone from me and I plan to do the same." He stepped closer to you and you were able to see a huge scar down the left side of his face and you instantly knew who he was. Jan was one of the men Felix had to take down in order for him to become who he is today, one of the biggest mafia leaders in the country.

"He didn't kill your daughter, your own men did." You spat out knowing the story of his daughter already. Felix had tried to save her, getting her out of the house before he burnt it down but Jan's own men took her back into the building, shooting her to make it look like Felix had done it.

"You're a silly brainwashed little girl, your husband took what was mine and now I will do the same." He reached out to touch your bump and you slapped his hand away, you were almost ready to pop which made you more scared for your daughter's life.

"He'll kill you." You grumbled rubbing your bump as you stared at the man who simply smirked at you.

"Actually, he'll do everything he can to find you and slip up. I'll be waiting for him with his daughter in my hands and his wife dead beside me." You felt sick as he walked out of the room, slamming and bolting it shut before you leaned your head back on the wall.

"You stay in there as long as possible, you don't come early." You mumbled to your stomach, whimpering at the thought of this all happening.

As soon as Felix found out that you were missing he knew who was responsible, it really didn't take a genius to figure it out either and Jan hadn't been the sneakiest of people when it came to plans.

"I want men at every entrance, dead on sight," Felix ordered into the earpiece as he sneakily made his way toward the basement window. Men had been watching the building for a week now trying to find weak points in the security system and there was one. There were no guards, no cameras. It was just Jan on his own in a house that seemed to be abandoned,

"Lix?" You whispered when you saw him at the window, a smirk on his lips as he began to break it open, sliding through it with ease.

"How-" Before you could ask the door was opened and men came through, your men who were all smiling at you happy to see you were okay.

"Where's Jan?" You asked as you made your way through the home and up the stairs, a car was failing to start out in the drive and you all began to make your way in the direction. The frail-looking man looked panicked as he tried to start the engine of a very run-down-looking car.

“Running doesn't matter i’ll hunt you down if you do," Felix said loud enough for him to hear but Jan continued to try the engine again and again until clouds of dark smoke left the hood before he was pulled from the car and dragged toward a van.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" You shook your head, for the most part, he'd left you alone and just fed you and let you use the bathroom but Felix was still going to make him pay for taking you.

SEUNGMIN:

The old lady you'd made friends with over the last month was holding your hand as she walked you around the small spare room in her home. This wasn't supposed to be happening right now, you were supposed to be long gone from Seoul before you gave birth but it seemed as though your son was going to come earlier than you wanted him to.

"We should get you to a hospital," She told you as you gripped onto her hand and shook your head, hosptials meant that Seungmin could track you down and you'd been doing everything you could to stay off his radar and you were going to keep it that way.

"He'll find me, he can't find me." You pleaded, she knew your story and why you'd run away but for the whole month she'd known you she had been trying to convince you to go back to Seungmin and have him be there with you.

"He should be here for the birth of his son." She scolded and you rolled your eyes at her. No one seemed to understand why you'd walked away from him, the two of you were fighting more than usual. You'd heard him say he wasn't even sure he wanted a child and so you didn't give him a choice, you ran.

"He said he wasn't sure he wanted him, I took the choice away." You groaned before bending over with your palms flat on the bed, screaming out in agony as a contraction hit you.

"I'm sure he was just nervous and he never meant it," She pleaded with you before the door opened and someone walked inside. Your head slowly looked behind you and you groaned seeing your husband standing there with a doctor by his side.

"You called him?!" You screamed trying to push her hands off you as Seungmin walked over to you but the lady continued to hold onto you, rubbing your lower back.

"Of course she did, you really think I'd let you get that easy?!"

"You said you weren't sure you wanted him. I took the choice away from you, leave." You hissed out but he shook his head at you,

“Aren't you tired? Can we stop this and give our hearts a rest?” You hated that he sounded so poetic when all you wanted to do was hate him,

"She's almost ready," The old lady mumbled as you shook your head there was no way you wanted to do this here, you wanted drugs to numb the pain anything,

"You need to push," Seungmin told you as he held onto your hand, your eyes meeting his as you let out a whimper,

"I'm not ready, we're not ready!" You yelled and he chuckled a little kissing your cheek.

"No one is ever ready baby." He held onto your hand and you whined out knowing that it was time to push.

As soon as Seungmin was holding your son in his hands he was smiling at you,

"I-I'm sorry I ever doubted this," He told you as he held onto his son's tiny hand, watching him sleep peacefully in his arms as you laid your head on Seungmin's shoulder tiredly.

"If you ever say it again, we will be gone and you will never find us," You warned him as he nodded at you, kissing the top of your head as he promised that it would never happen again.

JEONGIN:

You had no idea what you were thinking when you'd disappeared months ago, there was no way that you were ever going to do this alone. Maybe if it had just been you on your own everything would have been fine but after running away you found out that you were pregnant. The only reason you'd run was because you were scared of the life he led, you weren't sure it was something you could see yourself in but ever since you discovered you were pregnant you knew you needed to come back.

Your child deserved a father in their life, even if it meant co-parenting instead of getting back together with him but you still loved Jeongin. You didn't think you could ever stop loving him for that matter.

"Yn?" Jisung whispered as you waited inside one of the buildings that Jeongin owned, you knew sooner or later one of his men would see you and tell Jisung or even bring you to him.

"Hey, is Jeongin around?" You weren't showing yet, no one would know that you were pregnant by looking at you and you were thankful for that.

"In his office, I'll take you up." Jisung took your arm gently and began to take you up. It had been a weird few months with their boss who lashed out at everyone who was close to him and refused to speak to anyone unless he needed to.

"What?!" Jeongin snapped as Jisung knocked on the door and walked inside. As soon as Jeongin turned around you felt guilt prickling your skin, he looked rough and that was putting it lightly.

He hadn't shaven in months, he was sporting a full beard which you assumed was to hide all of the bags under his eyes.

"Yn?" His voice broke but he quickly cleared his throat as he stared at you, not moving from his chair. He was too scared that if he did you'd suddenly disappear again.

"Hi." You mumbled a little as Jisung silently left the room, shutting the door behind him and leaving you alone with the man you loved.

"What can I do for you?" He asked, putting on his business voice as you slowly stepped toward the desk and dropped the ultrasound photos down onto the desk.

"I don't want money...I want you in the kid's life, even if you don't want me." You told him as you watched him slowly pick up the photos, you waited for him to question if it was even his but those questions never came.

"Move in, we'll create a nursery...we'll have everything ready."

"You'll forgive me? Just like that?" You were stunned at how he was just ready to throw everything into the past and come back to you. You expected some kind of resistance from him, or that he'd want a paternity test.

"You're the mother of my child...the love of my life, you could stab me and I would forgive you." You scoffed a little at him, of course, he would say something like that.

"That's toxic." You smirked at him before he shook his head at you.

"Shut up." He grumbled before shaking his head at you and looking back at the photos with tears in his eyes.

"You need to shave, I won't come back until the beard is gone." You told him as he moved to hold you in his arms.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @wolfgurl2600 @just-aelia @choisoorin@straykids5star @minholythighs @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @compersian @scarletemeterio @alicejustwakeup @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @peachyproductions @lenfilms @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopmenace143 @minhosify @loveforred @kpopstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @stzatzch @b1nn1e-1s-cut3 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella

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casualhedonists · 1 year ago

Text

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter four)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder/violence mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, roughhousing, overstimulation, insane amounts of teasing, some mild dubcon scenes/allusions to dubcon, some power play, lots of switching between dom/sub dynamics, oral sex, thigh riding, face sitting, degradation, dirty talk, edging/orgasm denial, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

chapter: 4/?

SERIES MASTERLIST

words: 6.3k (🫠)

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

a/n: thank you for your patience while i got my shit together (christmas edition). enjoy, this filth seems to get longer with each chapter. i’ll be gone for a few weeks over the holidays, so no chapter updates for a bit, but have no doubt i’ll be back for more in the new year <;33

Coriolanus Snow was not a patient man. He’d played the long game enough times in his climb to the top of Panem to know that once he got up there, he wouldn’t be sitting on the sidelines anymore, waiting for life to happen to him. He would take what he wanted from whoever he wanted, with no delay.

Who were you to tell him what he could and couldn’t have? Who were you to deny him, walking away like you’d won, like you’d just played him like a fiddle and left him out in the dust? He replayed your self-satisfied smile as you disappeared from his view and he stood there, considering his options. The most tempting would be to follow you back to your room, to shove you up against a wall, to tear off his jacket and watch that smug look melt right off your face.

The second would’ve been to send for the whore, but it would’ve been a cheap thrill and besides, you’d made a point of getting rid of her.

He’d almost had you, he could see it. Could see the quiver in your lip as your blown-out eyes had rolled open, before you’d climbed off his lap. He was certain that if he chipped away at enough of your resolve, you’d give in. The thought of having to work for this incensed him, who were you to make demands from the President himself?

But the calculating part of his brain decided, with disdain, that he would have to be patient for once. He doubted you could go very long before giving into him; he’d seen it in your eyes, it had taken everything in you to leave him that night.

You wanted to go on a power trip? Fine. Snow knew it would be short lived, and you were making enough of a spectacle of yourself that it should prove entertaining to him. He decided he was going to let you have your fun, brief and fleeting as it may be. He always did enjoy a chase, and he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.

You wanted to play? Fine.

He closed his door, leaving it unlocked.

Let the games begin.

Breakfast was a sweet kind of torture. You’d wrapped a short, silk dressing gown around your underwear set from the night before, confident after your first good night’s sleep in weeks. Headed downstairs early, so you could be there when he walked in.

“Morning, sweetie.” You smiled as you sipped at a cup of coffee.

Snow’s eyes narrowed. He sat opposite you without a word, pouring himself a cup and buttering a piece of toast. His morning paper was neatly folded on the side, and you eyed it quickly, before taking him in.

It was subtle – something probably only you could pick up on, knowing what you did – but it was there, in the slight crinkle of his usually perfect shirt, in the way he took coffee instead of tea, in the way he focused carefully on spreading the butter to every edge of his slice of toast. You glanced down again, a mischievous sense of pride filling you up.

You’d gotten under his skin.

Finally.

“Well,” you cleared your throat, “I don’t know about you, but I slept like a log. You?”

His eyes met yours heatedly, but he didn’t reply. One of his footmen stood posted by the door, eyes straight ahead.

“No?” You faked pity. “You look a little tired, Coriolanus. Rough night?”

Nothing. He didn’t respond to your taunts, but instead took his paper, unfolding it, and you watched intently with a glint in your eye as you saw him react to something slipping out of the pages and into his lap.

He let out a surprised scoff, lowered the paper, and looked straight at you. Your eyebrows raised in response.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, with a lilt in your voice.

When he finally spoke, his voice was steady.

“Leave us, please.” He said to the footman, without breaking off his stare once. The footman obliged, closing the door behind him. His eyes bored into you with a similar intensity as they had the night before.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” He asked, but it was flat like a statement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You batted your eyes, feigning innocence.

He lifted his hand from his lap, holding up the pair of white lace panties you’d tucked between the folds of his newspaper. Raised his eyebrows in a question.

“Oh,” you smiled. “Whoops. I’d been wondering where I left those.”

His stare remained unfaltering, and you rubbed your legs together.

“Very cute, sweetheart.”

You smirked.

“You think so? Just something to remember me by. Lucille said you’ll be gone until tomorrow for work, I wouldn’t want you forgetting about last night.”

His eyes darkened, never leaving yours as you stood, making your way down the table.

“It’s a shame, really. I feel a little guilty about what I did. I got you all worked up for nothing.”

He scoffed, watching as you got closer.

“Yeah, you seem all torn up about it.”

You hummed, reaching him, and nodded at his lap, where his hand gripped the white lace.

“May I?”

“Be my guest.” He said tightly.

You straddled his lap again, and he looked up at you. You felt another surge of that power, standing over him with very little between you, as you ran your palms over his jacket, smoothing it out, then plucking the white rose from his breast pocket, and tucking your panties inside. As you pushed the rose back in, you smiled, satisfied.

“I should be more careful about misplacing things,” you mused, “Could’ve sworn I threw those in the laundry. You want to know something funny?”

“What?” Snow watched your hand pull away, and you met his gaze again.

“I’m not even sure I’m wearing a pair right now.”

It happened so quickly, it knocked the breath out of you. One second, you were balanced with your legs either side of his, and the next, you were pushed back onto the table as he stood, grabbing your waist, and leaning over you. A plate shattered on the floor, but Coriolanus didn’t flinch.

You squirmed but he gripped your hips harder, sliding one hand up to support your back and stop you from toppling straight onto the table. The cold wood pressed into your bare legs, and a glass dug into your back. You realised with a shaky breath that your dressing gown had fallen open. He was stood flush between your legs, pinning you down.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He snapped.

“I told you, didn’t I?” A hum as his hips rolled into yours. “Whatever I want.”

“I could force your hand, you know.” He commented. “Right now.”

“You think I wouldn’t want you to?”

His face was unreadable. His head dipped towards yours, and when he spoke it brushed against your lips.

“You really are a whore.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I know you’re all bark and no bite. You want to know why I know that, Snow?”

He huffed.

“Why?”

“Because I think you like chasing me.” Your eyes lowered to your legs, pressed apart by his hips. Your ankles wrapped around his lower back and pressed him in further. His jaw clenched.

He followed your gaze, and you felt his breath hitch when he saw that you weren’t lying, there was nothing between the two of you except his pants.

“Fuck.” He whispered.

It did something to you, hearing him so desperate. You pulled him in again with your heels, and he looked back at you. He rocked his hips, velvet cloth rubbing against your bare cunt, and you gasped at the feeling, still sore from last night.

Any time now.

“You want to fuck me, Snow?” You whispered. “Do it. Right now, I won’t stop you.”

His breaths were heavy as he rocked his hips again, firm, and it was obscene, really, how you could feel the outline of his cock pushing against you through the thick material, and his breath was getting laboured.

Almost there.

“Knew you’d give in.” His voice was rough as he pressed in harder, and you whimpered, eyes fluttering shut, “So fucking desperate. Didn’t expect you to open your legs this soon, though. Thought you’d rile me up for a few days first. But look at you,” he rambled, “giving up so easily. Where’s all that fight now, sweetheart?”

A loud rap sounded at the door.

There it is.

You couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across your face as he stopped still.

“Oh,” you blinked innocently at him, “I wonder who that could be.”

“President Snow? We’re ready for you, sir.” The footman’s voice was muffled through the door.

“Well, would you look at the time? I guess duty calls, Mr President.”

He scowled, shooting ice cold daggers at you.

“You bitch. You knew.”

“And you fell for it.” You smirked, digging your heels into his back again. “Who’s desperate now?”

He scoffed, meeting your eye again.

“You think you’re so smart, little girl. You really think I’d mind if they walked in on me fucking you into the table?”

“I know you’re not against having an audience, Snow. But what are you gonna do, hang the health minister if he walks in? I know you’re not above it, but it’d be a slight inconvenience. Surely there are wiser ways to spend your precious time.”

“Yeah? Try me.”

His nails dug into your back as he pulled you in closer. For just a second, you had a doubt. But not long enough.

“I’m calling your bluff, Coriolanus Snow.”

He shook his head. Peeled himself off you with a huff, and tried to smooth out his shirt, glaring at you the whole time.

“I’ll be right out.” He called.

You slid off the table and stood, tying your gown, then reaching to fiddle with his collar. He batted your hand away.

“Let me.” You reached out again.

“Fine.”

Your hands smoothed over the material, straightening it out, then once you were satisfied, they rested on his chest for a beat.

“You look handsome.” You confessed quietly, not meeting his eye as you spoke. You could feel his stare burning into you as you did. When you finally looked, his expression had shifted to something unreadable again. Confusion, perhaps. It was times like these when you wished you could read his mind.

The moment finally passed and you cleared your throat, trailing a hand over his breast pocket, a physical reminder of the game you were intent on winning.

“This was fun.” You declared with a smile, putting the mask back on. “Hurry back. What time shall I expect you?”

“No later than noon.” He watched as you stepped away.

“I look forward to it,” you smiled, playing with the string of your gown, “sweetheart.”

With Snow out of the house, you jumped at the chance to head straight upstairs, making a beeline for his room. Something inside you just knew the door would be unlocked, that he wouldn’t be able to resist. You were right.

At last, you were able to take a good look around the room, touring it as if it was some art museum. And it wasn’t far from it; with wood panelled walls and strong beams on the ceiling, plush velvet throw pillows and bedsheets, with crisp white linen tucked underneath. You wandered around for a while, brushing your fingers over the sides, taking it all in. It was perfectly neat, almost jarringly so. You wondered if he always kept it like this, or if it was for your benefit. Since he’d probably guessed you’d be going inside, you took little guilt in peeking into a few drawers, and flipping through the pages of the book on his nightstand.

Your curiosity then took you into the bathroom, where, after scanning the shelves, you decided to undress and take a shower, steam and the smell of his soap filling the large room. You took the opportunity to slide your hands between your legs and replay the morning’s events, filling in what you’d have had liked to have happen instead of him leaving. When you were finished, you wrapped yourself in a soft towel, and walked out, spotting a glass bottle of cologne on the edge of the sink. With a smile, you gently sprayed a little on your wrist, breathing it in, sighing deeply as the smell of him went to your head.

You got dressed again, thumbing through his closet, basking in the buzz you had from being in his space. You sat on his bed, taking his room in from a new perspective. When you were satisfied, you headed back to your own with a smile, only coming back that evening with a handful of your things, before falling into a peaceful sleep under his sheets.

A few days passed after that morning, and you barely saw Snow. He’d come back, but gone straight to his office, where he proceeded to spend long hours on the phone, stuck on some important business you had no business nosing about.

So, you waited, your games paused and painfully anticlimactic. You hated feeling like a helpless housewife, but this was apparently what you’d been reduced to. You saw your friends some of the evenings, and your family on others. Then you’d come home to hover outside Snow’s locked study to listen to the sounds of pen on paper, peppered with the occasional sigh. You would have waited for him to come out, but you gave up as the hours drawing longer. He stayed holed up in his office, night after night, and by the time he’d finished the evening’s work, sleep had long carried you away.

It hadn’t all been dull; you’d fallen into a habit of sneaking pairs of your underwear in with the clean laundry that was carried up to his room, and that had earned you a little attention, but it was merely in passing. A few heated glances at the dinner table, a brush past each other in the hallway. You’d go so far as to say it was almost like flirting, only laced with the undertones of something far heavier. It wasn’t enough for you now that you’d tasted what you could have if only you reached for it, and you started to go a little stir crazy again.

One of these nights, you’d slipped into his empty room after dark, and lay in his bed, trying to stay awake as long as you could, but sleep caught up to you and by morning, you woke alone, wrapped in soft sheets, no sign of Snow except for a slightly warm dent on his side of the bed that had long been abandoned.

You got nothing. Not a touch, not an argument, not a kiss. For a week and a half, until he was called away again. Your annoyance had started to creep back up on you tenfold by then, and you were practically crawling out of your skin.

You saw your family for dinner more and more, making a habit out of filling the empty space he'd left with small talk and laughter. It was on one such night, when you'd been silently mulling over what move to make next, that your mother mentioned a name you hadn't heard in years, and you knew right away what to do. You were done hiding away, you wanted to make yourself known. Make every second Snow spent in your presence a living hell, and a reminder of what you’d denied him. You'd hoped for something outrageous, something that would push him to the very edge. And if this didn't work, nothing would.

Nathaniel Greene was an old flame of yours. He’d always been good to you, warm and well-meaning; and he was handsome, in a gentle, boyish way. When your mother mentioned him, a beautifully cruel idea struck you. You weren’t naturally as cold-hearted as Coriolanus, but as the weeks had gone by, you’d begun to believe that maybe, in order to win this, you needed to be. Nathaniel would be perfect; the two of you had been school friends, you had history, something Snow couldn’t compete with, and you knew that would drive him insane. He was all soft edges, smiles, and pleasantries, everything that Snow wasn’t.

You felt a sliver of guilt as you began putting your plan together, but you reasoned that you and Snow had bruised each other, and low blows were what it would take for you to press into his the hardest. This was always never going to be simple; it was a messy game, and you needed to get your hands dirty.

Besides, he’d paraded a whore around the house for you to watch him fucking for weeks on end. It was fair game, you reminded yourself. So with that decided, you rose to the occasion, and the plan was set into motion.

That was how it came to be that on the day Snow returned, he walked in to find a guest sat in his living room. You were all false smiles and batted eyelashes when you saw him.

“Coriolanus, you’re back. I’d like you to meet Nathaniel, he and I used to be friends at school.”

Nathaniel rose from his seat on the sofa, and leaned toward Snow to shake his hand.

“Mr President, sir, it’s an absolute honor to be in your company. You have a lovely house.”

Nathaniel missed the slight tick in Snow’s jaw, but you didn’t. He offered his hand in response.

“The pleasure’s mine. Any… friend of my girl is always welcome here.”

My girl. The words went straight to your head, and Coriolanus pulled you in for a kiss that lingered half a second longer than usual, like he knew.

“Would you like some tea, sweetheart?” You asked, “Nathaniel and I were just catching up.”

“I remember that summer.” You laughed. “Your aunt took us to the coast, and we swam in the ocean at least twice a day. It was so cold one morning, your cousin’s lips turned blue. And on the way home, we had to stop at that inn, do you remember it?”

“With the owner and his crazy beard.”

“The crazy beard owner!” you exclaimed. “And the room you and I stayed in was so laughably small, the bed touched three of the walls all at once. Cozy, though.”

Nathaniel glanced awkwardly between the two of you, clearing his throat.

“Yeah, those were, uh… good times.”

Fire ran rampant through Snow’s eyes. You didn’t look directly at him, but your peripherals gave you plenty of satisfaction.

He was enraged. Good. You’d been mercilessly torturing him for the better part of an hour.

“Oh, Nathaniel, that reminds me, I’ll go get the book I was telling you about earlier.”

“Book?” He frowned, “I don’t-”

“You know the one! I’ll be right back.” You interrupted, then practically bounced out of your seat and walked toward the library. At the far end of the large room, you paused, pretending earnestly to scan the spines for a particular title.

You were quiet, making sure you could hear the echo of Snow excusing himself, followed by steady footsteps approaching you from behind.

“Something wrong?” You asked, keeping your back turned.

He grabbed your waist and spun you around. Backed you up until you were pressed to the wall, wooden shelves digging into your spine.

“Give me one good reason,” he spat, “why I shouldn’t kill that boy right now.”

You blinked.

“What’s wrong, Snow? Can’t take a little jealousy? Surprising, given your recent choice of company.”

“So that’s it? All this to get a rise out of me? You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble.” he scoffed.

You smiled, meeting his eye.

“Oh, but maybe I should. See, Coriolanus, here’s the thing.” you leaned towards him, running a finger down the front of his dress shirt, catching over each shining button as it glided down. “I haven’t decided if I should fuck him, yet. What do you think I should do?”

“I think,” he snarled, grabbing your wrists and pressing them against the wooden shelves, then dropping his voice down to a whisper, his breath mixing with yours, “that I should fuck you right here while he listens in the next room, and show him who you really belong to.”

You faltered, if only for a few moments. Your pride wavering as you heard the want drip from his voice, still getting used to his eyes skating across your skin the way you’d hoped and prayed they would for months. If you wanted it, you could take it right now, and you almost folded. He moved in ever closer, and your head dropped against the bookshelf, letting his lips graze your neck, blonde curls dusting your shoulder. You stayed there, suspended, letting it roll over you like water.

“What would your little friend in there think, if he could hear how much of a whore you really are? I wouldn’t even let you cover your mouth. I’d just hike up your slutty little dress and send you back out there with cum dripping down your thighs. How do you think he’d like you then?”

Your breath hitched, and you squeezed your eyes closed, pressing your legs together. Tried to rationalise the logic of throwing your plans to the wind and letting him stake his claim on you.

You considered it. Briefly.

But you were already in so deep, you had to see this through. Snow had fucked with you, then left you out to dry, and you had to make sure he would never do it again. So no, you wouldn’t be the one to fold. He would, on your terms. And now wasn’t the time, not yet.

So you collected yourself. Pulled away, batting your pretty eyes at him.

“Oh, but I’m having so much fun.”

“Don’t test me. You’ve proved your point.” he seethed, stepping closer, and one more inch and you might burst-

“Nathaniel’s waiting. I’ll see you at dinner, Coriolanus.”

With that, you slipped away, silently catching your breath.

You’d just finished dinner alone, no Snow in sight, and you were walking back towards the hallway when the doors swung open.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Your hands were above your head as Snow pushed you into the dining room wall. This was starting to become a habit. A sly smile pulled at your lips.

“Stings, doesn’t it? Getting a taste of your own medicine.”

He got in close, rage burning hot in his eyes.

“What you did was different, and you know that."

"I don't know, Coriolanus, was it? I've just been so bored, lately. Idle hands, I suppose."

If looks could kill, you'd be a goner.

"That's your excuse? At least I had the decency to fuck a stranger. Tell me you didn’t-”

You laughed.

“You really think I’d do anything without making sure you watched? God, Snow, you don’t know me at all.”

He moved in closer.

“If you ever do that again, if you so much as look his way, I’ll have him whipped in the middle of the city. Or maybe I won’t bother. I’ll just have him hung, and I’ll make sure you’re there at the front of the crowd to watch him drop, knowing his blood is on your hands. Do you understand me?”

You set your jaw. Shrugged.

“Okay.”

He frowned. You took pride in the way you could see it, him trying desperately to figure you out.

“Okay?” He repeated.

“You heard me. You think I really care enough about him, that I’d invite him into the house just to make you jealous, then expect him to end up alive? How stupid do you think I am?”

You did care about Nathaniel, at least enough to not want him dead, but Snow couldn’t know that. Not for this to work.

“You’re bluffing.” But you could hear in his voice that he wasn’t sure.

“Am I? Your threats don’t phase me, Coriolanus. Do your worst, I don’t care anymore. What, did you think I’d try to talk you out of it? You think I’d beg?”

His bewilderment caused him to drop your wrists, and you took the chance to push yourself away from the wall.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? But I won’t fold. I meant what I said that night. You want me to be yours, you want to own me? You have to earn it. My way. You’re not going to get anywhere trying to scare me into submission. It won’t work.”

Disbelief flashed across his face. You stood your ground, raising your head up high, leaning in.

“I don’t want to fight you, Coriolanus.” You confessed. “Your room. An hour. Don’t keep me waiting.”

Say what you wanted about Coriolanus Snow, but when you asked him to be on time, he obliged. You didn’t even need to hear his footsteps to know he’d come, which you’d grown finely attuned to by now, enough to hear them leave his office two rooms away and walk the short distance to his room, swinging open the door you’d left decidedly ajar.

And you made sure what he walked in on was a sight to behold; you, sprawled out on his bed in nothing but a white shirt of his, unbuttoned all the way down, falling to your sides. Your head pressed into his silk pillowcases, legs parted lazily as your hand rubbed slow circles on your clit beneath the red lace of your underwear. You could tell from the look on Snow’s face when you rolled your head to the side and looked at him that you’d had the desired effect, that you’d orchestrated this perfectly, because he couldn’t take his eyes off your hand, hips rocking into it, the visual made all the more lewd by the scrap of fabric hiding your movements, leaving his brain to fill in the blanks.

You slowed.

“Glad you could make it.” A small smile formed on your lips.

“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.”

“I have. Your bed’s a lot softer than mine.”

He hummed, crossing his arms.

“Why did you ask me here, sweetheart? This is my room, after all.”

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and even that small motion wasn’t lost on him. Your hand stilled.

“I waited for you.” You said quietly.

He let out a sigh, ragged and tired.

“I know. I’m sorry, sweetheart. If you knew how badly I wanted to see you-”

“Don’t. I don’t want your apology.”

His expression gave way to confusion for a split second.

“Okay. What is it you want?”

You paused, gaze flitting between his eyes and his mouth. Then you swallowed, your voice an embrassing whisper.

“I want your mouth on me.” It almost hurt to hold his stare, but you did.

“That so?” was the response. You cleared your throat.

“You say you’re sorry, Snow? Prove it. I’m right here.”

He paused, like he was mulling you over. Like he was figuring out just how to play his cards. Then a small smile pulled at his lips.

“Take your hand away.” His voice was rough, and it gave him away.

You obliged, watching him step towards the bed, towards you. He rolled up his sleeves, eyes on yours and your stomach twisted.

There he is.

“If you’re going to be making demands, it’s only polite that you ask nicely. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You nodded, flushing under his stare.

“You want me to take these off?” He smoothed his hands up your thighs, thumbs hooking into the band of your panties. You'd missed feeling his hands on your skin.

You nodded again, and he tutted.

“Yes.” You corrected. “Please.”

“Good. It was about time you learned some manners.” He slowly slid them off, and you lifted your hips to help him. His gaze slid between your legs, and you shifted your knee so you were covered.

“Not getting shy now, are you? Open your legs for me.” He instructed, and you obliged, burning under the heat of his gaze as he unbuttoned his shirt, slipping it off before moving in towards you, kneeling on the ottoman. You were already soaked, and you could feel the heat building even more, just from having him near you, having him see what a dripping mess you were.

“Shit.” It was no louder than a whisper, but your perked ears caught it and you pressed your lips together.

He tentatively pushed his thumb through your folds and you whined, a look on his face like he couldn’t quite believe what he was looking at. Did it again, and it caught on your clit, your breath hitching in your throat.

“Please.”

“Good girl. You know how many times I’ve thought about this over the past week? I’ve lost sleep over it.”

“Coriolanus.”

He smoothed his hands over your thighs again, and you yelped as he suddenly pulled you forward, hooking your legs over his shoulders. He kept staring, and you couldn’t take it, blood rushing from your head, so you dropped it back onto the pillows.

“Look at me.” He squeezed your thigh.

You did. You felt a sliver of pride as you noted the slight flush in his cheeks, like maybe he was more worked up than he was letting on.

“You know how many times I came all over those pretty panties of yours, wishing you were wearing them? Think I lost count.”

You couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped you as his breath brushed over your folds, wound so tight you thought you would burst.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart. Say it again.”

“I want your mouth on me. Please, put your mouth on me.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice, because with a sharp inhale, he pressed his mouth onto your cunt and dragged his tongue over your clit, slowly, firm and deliberate, like he had an itemised list of exactly how to cause your undoing. You gasped at the sudden contact, and your hips bucked off the bed, before his fingers gripped into your hips the way they had the other night, and slammed you back down.

“So fucking needy. Were you really that worked up? Parading your little boy toy around will do that, huh?”

“I’m sorry.” You gasped, as he worked his tongue over your clit again, tracing slow, firm circles that made your legs weak. You grabbed a handful of his hair, blonde locks twisted between your fingers as he pulled away again. You whined.

“See, that’s the thing. I don’t think you are. But you will be.”

You didn’t have time to wonder what that meant, because his tongue was all over you again, lapping at your entrance, lips sucking loudly at your clit as you moaned, free hand twisting creases into his bedsheets.

“Fuck.” You keened as your hips bucked harder, searching for friction that was so close to being enough. Your heels pressed into his back and your hand tightened in his hair, to which he retaliated by digging his nails into your thighs, scraping against the almost-healed bruises that were left from the previous week. The pinch brought you further into that headspace, where you could feel yourself slipping away, crying out as you thrashed under the pressure of his tongue on your cunt.

You kept rocking your hips, hopelessly trying to grind against him, but his hands held you down firmly, keeping the pace torturously slow. You couldn’t help your spaced-out brain from slipping back to weeks ago, when you’d watched him do the same to his whore on this very bed, and you made a sound of protest that just melted in with the rest of your noises, going unnoticed.

You didn’t want to feel this way, to feel disposable, like he could just have his way with you and throw you out. You knew that if you didn’t do something, you’d lose yourself altogether. And you couldn’t bear that thought, of having to give in. Not like this. Not when he held all the cards again.

“I want to sit on your face.” You breathed without thinking, strung out and desperate. Coriolanus pulled back. A smirk on his lips, which were swollen red and covered in your slick. You whimpered as the soft light caught him, showing you the mess you’d made of his face, dripping down his chin.

“Do you now?”

“Please. I’ll ask nicely, I’ll – I’ll beg, if you want me to. Just please, let me sit on your face. I can’t take it anymore, I’m so-” You broke off, gasping as he pressed a soft kiss onto your clit, causing your legs to jolt.

“Poor thing. You really want it, don’t you?”

“Yes. Please, I’ll do anything. Just… please.”

“Good girl.” He murmured, trailing soft kisses down your thigh. “Since you’ve asked so nicely, I’ll let you. Just for a few minutes, okay? Think you can cum that fast?”

“Fuck, yes. Thank you.”

A messy tangle of limbs as he pulled his shirt off, sliding flat onto the bed, hands guiding your shaking legs as you inched over his torso. It was nearly too much, watching his pretty face as you lowered yourself onto him, but you couldn’t look away, hands grabbing the headboard to steady yourself. You couldn’t help but think back to that night, riding his thigh like you were being paid for it. As he carefully eased your hips down, thighs either side of his face, you knew this was going to be a hundred times better than that. And Snow didn’t disappoint, lifting his head to nuzzle your clit as you sucked in a breath, hips jolting forward. You dropped a hand to grab onto his hair, and he didn’t retaliate this time, letting you wind your fingers around his curls as you started to move slowly, rocking your hips against his mouth.

This was much better. The angle was perfect, pressure everywhere you needed it, and you tipped your head back as you moved, one languid lick causing it to drop forward again to look at Snow.

The only time he really moved was to pull you in firmer, and the motion reminded you of how he’d pulled you into his thigh, and before you knew it the ache in your stomach was growing into a throb, burning you up until it felt molten, until you felt drunk from it. The coil tightened further as you got into it, rolling your hips, tugging Snow’s hair to the point where you were sure it must’ve been hurting him, but he either didn’t care or just didn’t stop you. As your hips bucked faster and you looked down at his face, eyes hazy as he ate you out like he was starved, you couldn’t help it, you just started talking, rambling near nonsense and it wouldn’t stop.

“Fuck, that’s it, right there. You’re gonna make me cum all over your face if you keep that up. Holy shit.” Your grip in his hair tightened, so hard it was pulling his head back so you could grind against him just right, clit catching on his nose, cunt spasming against his tongue, and he winced, a broken sound escaping the back of his throat, but it only egged you on. Your voice breathy but taunting, getting cockier by the second.

“Does that hurt, baby? Am I pulling too hard?” His eyes narrowed, but his tongue only fucked into you harder. “You can take it though, can’t you? Fuck. You’re being so good for me, letting me fuck your face like this. Feels so fucking good. Shit, I thought you’d take more convincing, but look at you, eating from the palm of my hand.”

His hands gripped into your hips again, nails digging crescent moons into your skin, and you tightened your thighs around his head which only made him dig harder, the pain tipping you over the edge as you shouted out, hips jerking as your thighs shook, and Snow only pressed in firmer with his tongue as you came, riding out your high with a strangled sob.

He didn’t give you chance to come down from your orgasm, instead pushing you off his face and flipping you over. You landed on your back, scared for a second that you’d be punished for getting carried away, but his lips met yours in a sudden battle for dominance. You moaned into his mouth as you tasted yourself on his tongue. He’d never kissed you like this before. It lit another fire in your stomach, just when you thought you were done.

After what felt like a lifetime getting drunk off each other, he pulled away, and you got to see the mess you’d made of this man. There he was, propped above you, the most powerful man in the country, blonde hair a sweaty wreck of tangles, parted lips sore and swollen, your cum smeared across his mouth and chin, mixed with the trail of your wet tongue in the places you’d just cleaned him up.

You tasted it on your lips, heard it in his laboured breath, saw it in his blown-out eyes, felt it in the small space between you.

This was what power felt like.

He was shaking his head incredulously, like he couldn’t quite believe you. Then, ignoring your hiss, his head dipped between your legs again, smooth tongue rolling over you like cool water on a burn. You flinched, a broken sound slipping from your lips.

“Oh, come on. You can give me one more, right?”

Fuck.

“Coriolanus, I can’t-” You whined as his hot breath lit you up, long fingers sliding inside you.

“You will. Come on, baby. You can take my fingers, can’t you?” His voice mimicked yours as he opened you up, speeding up a little. You hummed as he pressed against your sweet spot, and you hated how it seemed like it was so easy to him, to take you apart like this.

“Good girl. Look at me.” He scolded, when your eyes rolled back, squirming from the overstimulation, pressing his thumb against your clit just to watch you jolt.

“You’re going to do something for me. You’re going to promise me you won’t ever see him again.”

“What? Who, Nathaniel? I-”

He pressed into your clit again, mean, and you squeaked.

“Don’t say his fucking name. Promise me, right now. Say it.”

“I promise. Never again. I’m sorry, fuck, I’m so sorry.” You sobbed.

“Good girl.” He smiled.

“Don’t want anyone else, just you, please. Please, Coriolanus. Will you promise me too?” Your words were airy, and your voice shook.

He slowed his fingers, and shifted himself up to place his lips on yours.

“I promise, sweetheart. It’ll just be us.” His fingers pressed into you harder, scissoring lazily, but every movement lit all your nerve endings on fire. You were so wet it was almost humiliating, or it would be if you weren’t so turned on, obscene sounds bouncing off the walls as he worked you open. Coriolanus could tell, smiling as he whispered praises, sweet nothings into your ear and added a third finger, thumb brushing across your clit as the sensitivity quickly morphed into more pleasure.

“You close again, baby?”

You only whimpered in response, head jerking as your eyes squeezed close, arm sliding down to grab his wrist, pushing it further. You were wrecked, and he knew it. It was his doing.

“Ah.” He knocked your hand away with a knowing smile. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart. I’m listening.”

You paused, at a mental crossroads, but as he twisted his fingers just right, pressing deeper, you dropped all your inhibitions. Squeezed your eyes closed, cunt gripping his fingers, and confessed.

“I want you to fuck me.” You whispered.

You knew full well what it meant. You didn’t care anymore; you’d had your fun, and you were ready to fold. Lay all your cards out on the table. This ache inside you had never felt so loud. You refused to open your eyes, which were threatening to fill with desperate tears.

“Ask nicely.” He pulled his fingers back, dragging them along your sweet spot. You were starting to lose feeling in your legs.

“Please. Please, fuck me. I’m done, now, I promise. I won’t do it again, Coriolanus, I’m so sorry-”

“Say it again. One more time. Look at me.”

You sighed, eyes flooding with hot tears. You finally opened them.

“Please, Coriolanus. Fuck me.”

He smiled, but as quickly as it arrived, it morphed into something sinister.

“No.”

His hand stopped, fingers slipping out of you before you could stop them. Your high started to slip away. You rocked your hips, confused out of your mind. Driven to your edge, and then in the same breath, catapulting to a stop.

“I- wait, no… what?” You sounded delirious.

He shrugged, casually lifting his fingers, sucking them off with a pop.

“I don’t think I will. You’ve done quite enough, and I’ve had a long day. So I think you should be on your way now.”

You gaped, dumbfounded. The tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, but you held them in like they were your last shred of pride.

“But… you said we wouldn’t… I thought-”

He traced a hand across your check, gently, and it took everything in you not to sob.

“I meant what I said. But I’m not quite ready to forgive and forget. You should go and get some sleep.”

“Coriolanus, I- please.” You begged him, eyes wild and desperate.

“Stings, doesn’t it?” He raised his eyebrows and something inside you sank like a heavy cruiser. “A taste of your own medicine.”

a/n: sorry mom

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sukirichi · 4 months ago

Text

[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 020 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

cw. angst, living like criminals (lol), implied smut, unedited.

notes. you guys I can’t believe we finally reached the ending! this was such a long but enjoyable ride and I cannot thank you all enough for being so supportive in this series <3 this chapter is really long but I hope you guys enjoy it and happy ber-months!! (also just a lil note that we still have an epilogue – and yes, I’ve finished writing that too, so whatever happens in the ending… know we’ll still have some tidbits for the epilogue!)

wc. 19k

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[ TWENTY ] all of the small things that you do are what remind me why I fell for you. and when we’re apart and I’m missing you, I close my eyes and all I see is you and the small things you do.

You didn’t know what woke you up first – the birds chittering outside, the soft rustling of the sheets beside you, or the low groans emanating from your husband.

Sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting its golden glow as it kissed your eyelids and gently coaxed you from sleep. The soft chittering of birds outside the cabin filled the morning air with a melody so pure and light it almost felt like a dream. The world was still, bathed in an ethereal calm that seemed almost too perfect to be a real.

You wondered if it was. Real. True – you laid there, cocooned in your thin blankets that you got in a fleece market, breathing in the scent of pine and fresh morning dew, as if trying to memorize this magical peace. It was so quiet that it felt almost deafening, so different from everything you’d known before, that it was hard to believe this life was now yours. No more waking up at the same time everyday while servants bathed and dressed you. No more awkward breakfasts filled with tension as you discussed politics. Instead, your mornings felt like this – waking up whenever you liked, and having home cooked meals that was sometimes taken by leaning against the countertops, cereal bowls in hand as you discussed with your husband what you’d do for the day. Not that there was much to do – Rintaro chopped wood, you washed your clothes and prepared the meals, and he kept the house warm.

Waking up in the light of early morning, the familiar scent of pine and crisp mountain air filled the small cabin. The bed was warm, and as you stirred, your hand instinctively reached out to search for him. The roughness of his palm met yours, and you felt his fingers curl around yours gently, the gesture silently confirming that it was real – he was real – and that none of it was a dream. You turned your head, and there he was. Rintaro, still half-asleep, his eyes closed with his lips slightly curled downwards. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring at him a moment longer.

Had he always been like this? When was the last time you’d shared the same bed as him back in your old country? Looking back at it… it’d been almost a year before your wedding that you did. Despite greeting the new day by being tangled in the sheets all night long, Rintaro rarely stayed the night when you were still dating. He’d always leave with a quick kiss to your forehead, and you’d be too exhausted – bone weary and pleasured in all the best of ways – to ask him to stay. And when you had been married… there were plenty of beds, but none to be shared.

But now, he was here, as he had been for the past six months. Waking up next to you with always the same expression – his arm slung across his forehead because his eyes were too sensitive to the light, and his lips turned in a frown because he would’ve slept forever if he could. I could never be a morning person, he’d mumbled once, a mug of coffee in hand, I don’t get how you look so beautiful this early, though. Maybe that’s the only good thing about waking up.

What is? you’d teased and acted coy, and Rintaro would hide his blush behind his mug. Seeing you first thing in the morning, he’d say.

Without thinking, you leaned in, gently pushing his arm that blocked your way so you could brush your lips against his forehead. It was a simple gesture, one you had shared with him countless of times before, but it never lost its meaning. It was your silent way of saying, “Good morning,” in the hopes that it’d reassured him that, despite everything, the two of you were still together, and would stay together through thick and thin.

Rintaro grumbled beneath you, as he always did whenever you kissed him. Six months of the two of you navigating this new life together, and he still acted like a stranger at times. Today, however, he welcomed it a little bit. His grumblings were incoherent, his hand flying to rest against your waist as you hovered over him, trying to memorize all the details on his face and how he’d changed. For one, his hair had grown a little too long. It reached the nape of his neck and flared out into wispy spikes, the tendrils soft yet curling around your finger. Two, his stubble was becoming more prominent, the dark shadow present across his face. If you swiped your palm against his jaw, it’d feel uncomfortably sharp.

Not that you minded. Smiling to yourself, you reached over to press another kiss to his nose when Rintaro stopped you, your wrist caught in his arm. “Don’t,” he warns in a low voice laced heavily with sleep, “You said my stubble hurts you.”

“It’s just itchy. It doesn’t hurt.”

“Yeah, but you still don’t like it,” he pouted, and you bit back the giggle threatening to pour out of you.

The peace of the moment was broken only by the soft rumble of your stomach. You winced at the sound and slipped out of bed, padding softly across the wooden floor to the small kitchen. The pantry door creaked as you opened it, revealing nearly empty shelves. A couple of cans, a bag of rice, and some dried herbs – enough for one meal, maybe two.

You felt Rintaro’s presence behind you before you heard him, his hands snaking around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. You were running low on groceries again, but it didn’t worry you. This life, however simple and secluded, was a far cry from the grandiosity of the palace, but it was yours. And in this quiet cabin, up high in the mountains in a country at the other side of the world where no one knew you, you’d found a strange sort of peace.

“We’re running low.”

“Huh?” Rintaro mumbled against your shoulder, raising his eyes to eye the shelf. It was nearly empty, and he hummed to himself, confused. “We just checked our stock two weeks ago. I was sure it’d last us a few more weeks.”

You snorted, not making any attempts to remove his arm around your waist as you picked up the cans. Green beans, mushrooms, and some off-brand cheap tuna that tasted so salty you felt like you’d licked the sea. “Yeah, two weeks ago. You eat like a bear, Rin.”

“Oh. Sorry,” he released his hold around you, and stepped away. Scratching the back of his neck, he tipped his chin in the direction of the shelves. “We should go down later to get groceries. I heard there was a night market, too, and I still have some money left to get whatever you like.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“I insist,” he said, eyeing your bare neck, ears, and wrists. Just six months ago, you’d been decorated in the finest of stones and most exquisite gowns. Now? You wore whatever would fit you from the thrift shops, and you hadn’t worn any accessories aside from your wedding ring ever since arriving here. It just didn’t make sense to keep wearing your old garments when you needed to keep a low profile. So you’d stashed and kept all your old clothes at the back of some rotting cabinet, occasionally checking to see if it was still in good condition in case you needed to sell it for some extra cash. You didn’t mind the change, truth be told. But you could tell Rintaro was struggling to see you in this light – walking around barefoot, dressed in his tattered and loose sweaters that you hadn’t washed in days because soap was hard to come by, and your face bare of anything.

You didn’t look like a Princess, but you didn’t have to. You weren’t one anymore.

Rintaro sighed. “It’s been a long time since you got yourself something you liked. I want to spoil you, even if its just for tonight.”

You grimaced, unsure of what to say. “I appreciate that but… we should really use the money for something else, Rin. You know we can’t afford to buy anything that isn’t essential right now,” you reminded him, gnawing on your lip as you both danced around the undeniable fact looming overhead. “The money my parents gave us won’t last forever.”

“I could get a job.”

“No,” you responded without skipping a beat, “Not an option. It’s too risky. You and I could be recognized and it’s just… We’re okay, Rin. What we have now? The life we have together? I can’t just let it go. There’s no way I’m letting you be exposed out there.”

Rintaro was silent for a moment. You knew he knew you were right – you could be in the middle of nowhere and still be recognized. He’d spent his entire life being in the limelight, his every move publicized on television and the media. He would be easy to point out from the crowd even if his hair grew a little longer, a little more unkempt. Regardless of the truth that he wasn’t a royal by blood, he could never shake off the elegance in which he moved with, or the mannerisms that weren’t normal in this country’s culture. Just thinking about him being separated from you because of something as foolish as a job… you couldn’t stomach the thought of it.

“But we can’t keep living like this,” he argued softly, looking around your old, dusty cabin with a weary expression. “Just barely getting by.”

“We’ll find a way, okay?” you reassured him, reaching over to cup his face. He’d been pestering you to let him go to town so he can find a stable source of income for months now, but you were stubborn. You’d watched over him like a walk just to ensure he wouldn’t leave. But he was right, there had to be something you or him could do to do more than just survive. “We’ll talk about it tonight. I promise.”

That night, you and Rintaro set out to brave through the weather. The cold winter air nipped at your face as you and Rin stepped into the grocery store, the warmth inside immediately welcoming. The both of you were bundled up in thick sweaters, scarves, and hats, trying to keep the biting chill at bay. Your hand found its way into his, and he squeezed it gently, offering both comfort and warmth as you navigated the aisles together.

This was only your third time grocery shopping, and it still felt strange, almost like playing house. The abundance of choices, the unfamiliar task of sticking to a budget, and the realization that you now had to manage everything on your own – it was all new, and both thrilling and daunting. You remembered the first time you arrived here, Rintaro had unknowingly picked out whatever he liked, careless of the prices simply because he’d never had to think about it before. But as soon as you reached the checkout counter, and your money wasn’t enough, he’d shamefully put back everything – chocolates, salty chips, wine. It left an impression to the cashiers working, and it was another two months before you both had enough courage to return.

Now, though, you were more familiar with it. You both moved slowly, scanning the shelves with a mix of curiosity and caution. Rin paused in front of a display of cookies, his hand reaching out to grab a box of your favorites. You hesitated, a mix of longing and practicality battling in your mind. “Put that back,” you said softly, glancing at the price tag. It was enough to make your pockets hurt. It was the good kind of cookies – artisan, with premium dark chocolate.

“Why?” Rin asked, holding the box up as if examining it more closely. “You like these cookies.”

“They’re way over our budget,” you explained, trying to ignore how much you wanted to take them home. God, those cookies and some hot cocoa with marshmallows on top, along with a good show playing on TV? If you had some TV! Wouldn’t that be wonderful? It’d be the perfect way to spend winter at home.

“But these are your favorite,” he insisted, and there was a warmth in his voice that made you stop and look at him.

You frowned slightly, confused. “How’d you know that? I never told you.”

A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You keep eyeing them each time we come down this aisle, and it’s the only thing you finish in one sitting. This is the only snack you never portion out. You last ate these two months ago.”

Your heart skipped a beat, touched by how closely he paid attention to the smallest things. His eyes were soft, full of a tenderness that made you momentarily forget the cold and the weight of everything else.

“Come on,” he urged gently, placing the box of cookies in the cart despite your earlier protest. “We’re not going to starve if you let yourself have this treat.”

You wanted to argue, but the look in his eyes made you relent. There was something so sweet, so earnest about the way he cared for you, even in these small moments. You found yourself smiling, warmth spreading through you as you let the moment sink in. And you tried so very had, you really did, to forget about the price tag. He was right that you wouldn’t starve. Still, you couldn’t afford to be careless, just as you didn’t have the heart to say no to him when he seemed like he’d be moments away from getting down on his knees and say ‘just get the damned cookies!’ It almost made you laugh, and you thought about how Rintaro was slowly becoming more like the Rintaro you’d known – before everything fell apart.

How he’d always watched you closely to know everything you liked. How you’d often find everything you were eyeing at your bedroom the next day, with a handwritten card for him that read: anything that catches your eye is yours. love, rin. How he always knew you wanted something before you even said it out loud.

The titles had been stripped off of you, and the grandeur was left behind in a kingdom that lost its glory. But he was still Rin, your Rin. And you liked him a little more when he didn’t have his Crown.

As you continued down the aisle, your hand still firmly in his, you let his warmth seep into you. You went into an automatic mode after that – just following him around while he picked out the cheapest products to restock. He struggled a little when your hand was still tightly wound in his, though he made no move to move away.

The cold, biting air greeted you again as you and Rin stepped out of the grocery store, the sky a dull gray that hinted at more snow to come. Rin insisted on carrying all the bags, despite how heavy they were, his breath growing visible in the cold as he shouldered the weight without complaint. His broad shoulders hunched slightly against the chill, but he kept his usual calm demeanor, his focus entirely on getting everything to the car.

You both had recently managed to get a car – a cheap, low-key one that didn’t attract much attention. It was far from the luxurious vehicles you were once accustomed to, but it was practical, blending in perfectly with the other cars in town. As Rin loaded the bags into the trunk, you couldn’t help but watch him. Rin kept a careful distance as he moved, his hesitance evident. Even now, after everything you had been through together, there was still a space between you –an invisible line that he seemed too afraid to cross. He was always respectful, always careful, but you could see it in his eyes, in the way he held himself back: he still felt like he wasn’t good enough for you, like he was just a nobody and you were still the princess, despite the life you were trying to build together. And he couldn’t be any more wrong.

The drive back to the cabin was quiet, the car heater humming softly as you passed through the snow-covered landscape. It felt almost like playing house, like you were a normal husband and wife just going about their day, but there was that undercurrent of tension, the unspoken fears and doubts that Rin carried with him, no matter how much you tried to show him that none of it mattered to you. Because everyone knew, the whole world knew, you weren’t a normal husband and wife. You’d been a Princess and he’d been a Prince, both destined to be great leaders only to come out like this – walking in public with your heads down, faces concealed, and desperately trying to mask your accent in the hopes no one would pick up on the recognizable Inarizaki dialects. Normal married couples didn’t go around falling for people outside their marriages, too, yet here you were. Rintaro with an ex-girlfriend he almost had a family with if she hadn’t aborted, and you… You looked out the window, shaking away any thoughts of him.

It’d been six months. Six months where you didn’t utter his name. Six months where you refused to bring up to your memory how his voice sounded like, how his curls felt so soft when you ran your hands through it. You’d lived for a good six months without him, and you were determined to never think about him ever again.

This was the life you had now – a life where Kiyoomi couldn’t fit in the puzzle pieces. He was someone you loved in the past, and whatever lingering feelings that still longed for him, whatever dreams of his face that haunted you and kept you awake at night – all of it had to be buried. Because all you had was Rintaro, and you were all he had, too. Never in a million years could you abandon your husband for a twisted, short-lived love affair.

He’s free now, you reminded yourself. If I went back to him… he would’ve never been freed from everything that made him miserable. It’s what you tell yourself when no one was looking. It’s what you prayed to believe every night, what you hoped to be real when you knew you still would’ve loved to hear from him.

When you finally arrived back at the cabin, you both worked to bring the groceries inside, setting them on the small kitchen counter. The cabin was warm, a contrast to the biting cold outside, and you could see Rin visibly relax once you were indoors. Still, he kept that distance, even as you unpacked the bags together. You handed him the box of cookies, a small smile playing on your lips.

“You know,” you began softly, watching him place the cookies in the pantry, “I don’t care about any of it.”

He paused, his back to you, but you saw the slight stiffening of his shoulders. “Any of what?” he asked, his voice careful, guarded.

“All of it,” you replied, stepping closer to him, your hand gently resting on his arm. “The money, the status... all of it.”

Rin turned to look at you, his dark eyes searching yours, still filled with that doubt, that lingering fear that he wasn’t enough. You could see how deeply it pained him, the thought that he might be holding you back, that he wasn’t worthy of the life you were building together.

“You’re all I care about,” you continued, your voice steady, hoping he could hear the truth in your words. I’ve forgotten him. I chose you. I need to forget him – I don’t want to think about him. “I don’t care that we’re not living in a palace or that we have to drive around in a beat-up old car. This–” you gestured around the cozy cabin, the groceries, the simple life you were making together “–this is enough for me. You’re enough for me.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at you like he was trying to find the right words. The tension between you felt thick, almost tangible, as you waited for him to respond. Then, with a slow, almost reluctant nod, Rin let out a breath, the weight on his shoulders seeming to ease just a fraction.

“Okay,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, but there was something in his eyes –something that told you he was trying to believe it, trying to let go of that doubt, even if it would take time.

You smiled at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest as you reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead. He leaned into your touch, just slightly, as if testing the waters, and for a moment, the space between you seemed to disappear. It hurt to see him hold himself back, to watch him act as if he had to prove himself worthy of your presence, of your love. You wished he could see himself the way you saw him: the man who had sacrificed everything, who had chosen you despite the dangers, who had stood by you when the world crumbled around you.

As you stood there, close enough to feel the warmth of his body against yours, you knew that this was where you belonged – with him, in this quiet, simple life. It wasn’t the life you had once imagined for yourself, filled with grandeur and endless possibilities, but it was a life that was real, a life built on shared struggles and small, precious moments like this. You had made your choice, and it was Rin you chose – Rin you would stay with, no matter how your heart had once pulled in another direction.

There was a time when the thought of leaving the man you truly loved would have been unbearable, when the idea of letting go of that dream would have broken you. But now, standing beside Rin, you realized that you had already begun to let go, to accept that some things were not meant to be. You had chosen loyalty, not just out of duty, but because you wanted to. You wanted to build something new, something solid, with the man who had been through so much with you. And maybe, just maybe, he was starting to believe it too.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, averting his gaze to stare at his feet instead. “It’s not… it’s going to take me a while. To become who you want, I mean. And I’m not sure if it’s going to be worth the wait but I just wanted you to know that… that I’m trying. I really am. I don’t know if I’ll ever get there, but I hope when I do, if I do, you’re still going be there.”

You nodded, a small, relieved laugh escaping your lips. “I was always there for you, aren’t I?” Rintaro nodded, his lips pursing because your words had rang true. Even in his worst, darkest moments, you hadn’t ran away. You still went back to his arms, no matter how angry you’d been, because it had always been him without question. You just hoped that he would choose you, too. “So…” you smiled in hopes to lighten up the mood, “Are you cooking tonight?”

“Yeah, I’ll take care of dinner,” he gestured to the grocery bags, “You go and change.”

You stepped into the bedroom, the familiar creak of the door a reminder of how much your life had changed. The room was small, a far cry from the grandeur of the palace, but it was cozy, filled with the little things that had come to mean so much more to you now. You pulled off your sweater and jeans, slipping into something more comfortable –a soft, worn shirt and loose pants. The cabin was warm, the faint crackle of the fireplace in the living room filling the silence as you looked out the window at the snow-covered mountains. It was hard to believe that this was your life now, so far removed from the chaos and danger that had once consumed every waking moment.

The smell of food wafted into the room, drawing you out of your thoughts.

Rin was in the kitchen, moving around with a quiet focus. He wasn’t the best cook, but he was trying, learning how to make simple meals from scratch. There was something endearing about the way he concentrated on getting things just right, even if it didn’t always turn out perfect. Tonight, though, the food smelled good – comforting, familiar, like home. You walked back into the living room, where Rin had set two plates on the small coffee table in front of the sofa. He glanced up at you as you entered, his expression softening as he took you in.

It was these moments that made everything worth it, the quiet, unspoken understanding between the two of you as you navigated this new life together.

Smiling, you sat down beside him on the sofa, the warmth of his body seeping into yours as you both began to eat. The food was simple –some kind of stew with bread on the side – but it was good, better than you’d expected. The radio played softly in the background, the crackling voice of the announcer delivering the latest international news. You listened as you ate, the names and events pulling you back to the world you’d left behind.

The news from Inarizaki was a mix of the familiar and the unexpected.

First Prince Ushijima Wakatoshi had been appointed and crowned as King – a solid, dependable choice, just as you’d always known he would be. Third Prince Kita Shinsuke had renounced his title and become a lawmaker, a decision that surprised you, though you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him finally finding his own path. The news of his engagement to Airi Yamamoto, a former maid of the palace, was even more surprising, but it made sense in a way. Kita had always been grounded, and maybe that was what he needed now. Besides, him and Airi finding love and coming out triumphant despite all the struggles… they really were a testament that sometimes, love could prevail all.

The next segment of the news, however, had your husband stiffening beside you.

Former Princess Iris Amari had been imprisoned, facing a lifetime behind bars, along with the former Queen Suna. It was hard to feel anything for them now – anger, sadness, pity – it all felt so distant, like a story you’d once heard but no longer cared to remember. Prince Tooru and Princess Maiko were expecting their first child, a new life that would carry the legacy of the royal family forward. The youngest prince, Tobio, had been chosen to represent Inarizaki in the Olympics for the Men’s Volleyball division – a bright future ahead of him, far away from the shadows of the palace.

The mention of Tobio's name made your heart ache. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him standing tall on that global stage, doing what he loved most.

But as the pride swelled in your chest, it was accompanied by a deep, gnawing sadness. Tobio had always felt like a younger brother to you, the one person in the palace who had looked up to you without judgment, who had never asked for more than your time and affection. You missed him – the sound of his laughter, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about volleyball, the bond you shared.

Leaving him behind was one of the hardest things you had to do. You wished you could have explained things to him, reassured him that your departure wasn’t abandonment. But you’d left so abruptly, without a word, and now you feared that he might think you’d chosen to disappear without a care for him. The thought of him being upset, of him feeling betrayed by your absence, weighed heavily on you.

You hoped that one day, he’d understand. That he’d see why you had to leave and that it wasn’t because you didn’t love him. You wished more than anything that you could reach out to him, but for now, all you could do was hope – hope that he was happy, that he wasn’t burdened by your absence, and that he knew, somehow, that you were still watching over him from afar, still caring for him like the older sister you’d always been.

And then there was Prince Kiyoomi.

The name hit you like a punch to the gut, even though you’d been expecting it. Recently annulled, he had chosen to return to his home country, Itachiyama, taking an official break from his royal duties. The words felt heavy, final, like a door closing that you hadn’t quite been ready to walk away from. But it was done, and there was no going back.

You tried to picture him in Itachiyama, back in that quiet, secluded farmhouse nestled among the rolling hills. The place he had always spoken of with such fondness, a sanctuary far removed from the demands of royal life. You wondered if he was happier there now, free from the suffocating expectations and endless scrutiny that had plagued his days in the palace.

Was he finding peace in the simplicity of farm life, surrounded by the familiar sights and sounds of his childhood? Or did the walls of that old farmhouse remind him of the time you were together, of the dreams you had once shared, and the future you had both believed in? The life you could’ve had together?

The thought of him there, alone, made your heart ache in ways you hadn’t expected. You could almost see him – sitting on the porch, the wind tousling his dark hair as he gazed out over the fields, lost in thought. Did he think of you in those quiet moments, or had he pushed you from his mind, determined to move on, just as you were trying to do?

You wanted to believe that he was content, that he had found some semblance of happiness in his old life. But the part of you that still loved him, that still felt the sting of losing him, couldn’t help but wonder if he was as heartbroken as you were.

Every time you heard his name, it was like reopening an old wound, the pain as fresh and raw as the day you had walked away. You had chosen this path, and you knew it was the right one for you and Rintaro. But that didn’t make the loss any less real, or the memories any less painful. The farmhouse in Itachiyama loomed large in your mind, a symbol of everything you had given up, and everything you could never get back. And in the quiet of your new life, far away from the palace and its ghosts, you couldn’t help but wonder if he, too, was haunted by the same memories, and if he, too, wished that things could have been different.

But what if it had been different? What if the police never went after Rintaro? What if… your husband simply left the Palace, knowing it was never a place to call his, and you’d proceeded with the annulment under the grounds that it was never a valid royal marriage?

The government would’ve let you go. No one would question your decisions, especially not after it’d been revealed to the world how Rintaro loved Iris first. And they’d been so close, too, to getting what they wanted. So close to living the life you believed to be yours, so close to having the family you dreamt of building with him. A life you’d long let go of, just as you’d decided to choose Kiyoomi when Rintaro no longer wanted you.

And yet, you were here, on the other side of the world and more than a thousand miles away from the quiet Prince who’d silently stole your heart with his actions more than his words. Here you were, anywhere but where he was.

If it had been different…

You took a deep breath, pushing the thoughts away as you leaned a little closer to Rin, letting your shoulder rest against his. He was here, with you, and that was what mattered now. The world outside could change and shift, but this – this quiet, simple life with him – was yours to keep. It wasn’t the life you dreamt of having. It would never be the life you would’ve chose to live had you had any other choice, but it was yours now. It was all you had. It was the only path you could’ve chosen, because you knew one thing to be true: the farther you were from Kiyoomi, the safer he would be.

As you finished your meal, you set your plate aside and turned the radio off, letting the silence settle around you both. Rin reached out, his hand finding yours, and you laced your fingers together, feeling the steady, reassuring warmth of his grip. It was a small thing, but it meant everything in between – I’m sorry, his touch seemed to say, as if he knew he’d stolen away your future. It’s okay, you squeezed back, putting on your softest smile as you ignored the desperate singing of another’s name from your heart.

After dinner, the two of you moved in quiet harmony, cleaning up the remnants of the meal and tidying the small kitchen.

The routine had become familiar, though not yet second nature. It was strange how quickly you had adapted to this new life – this simple, quiet existence where the luxuries of your past were nothing but distant memories. With the dishes done and the fire in the hearth dying down, you and Rintaro made your way to bed, the weight of the day settling heavily on your weary shoulders.

Usually, it was you who fell asleep first, the exhaustion of chores you were still learning how to do pulling you into an early slumber. But tonight, sleep didn’t seem to want to knock on your door. As you lay on your side of the bed, you noticed Rintaro’s breathing had already evened out, his body finally succumbing to the fatigue that had clung to him since morning. You watched him for a moment, his face softened by sleep, and you felt a pang of tenderness, mixed with something deeper – guilt, perhaps, or the remnants of a love that had once been your whole world.

Your thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Kiyoomi.

It was a mistake to let your mind wander there, but tonight you couldn’t help it. The realization came suddenly, hitting you with a quiet, painful intensity – you didn’t even have a picture of him. No physical reminders of the man who had once been your everything. You tried to recall his face, the sharpness of his features, the warmth in his eyes when he looked at you, but the image was already starting to blur. Time would do that, you knew. It would erode the edges of your memories until he was nothing more than a distant shadow in your mind. You would forget what he looked like, the sound of his voice, the way his touch had made you feel safe, loved. You could search for him, you supposed. His name would be easy enough to find, even without a phone, but you knew that would only make things harder. Seeing his face now, seeing him move on without you – it would be a fresh wound, one you weren’t ready to bear. And there was this dark voice at the back of your head warning you that you might grow weak, that you might succumb to your longing and run back to his arms if you caught a glimpse of his face.

So you couldn’t. You had to push him away, because you couldn’t push Rintaro out of your life.

The bed felt colder tonight, lonelier, even with Rintaro beside you. The space between you both seemed to stretch impossibly wide, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. You longed for Kiyoomi in a way that was almost physical, a deep ache in your chest that you couldn’t soothe. But you were here now, with Rintaro, and this was your life. This was the choice you had made. A choice you couldn’t begin to regret now.

Just as you began to drift into a restless sleep, you heard it – a low, anguished moan coming from Rintaro. You turned to him, finding him caught in the throes of a nightmare, his body tense, his face twisted in fear and pain. He whimpered, and your heart clenched at the sound. Without thinking, you reached out to wake him, your hand gentle on his arm. But before you could, he jolted awake, eyes wide and frantic, searching the darkness as if expecting to find your side of the bed empty.

“Hey,” you whispered softly, your voice calm despite the storm inside you. “You’re okay, Rin. It was just a nightmare.”

He turned to you, his expression a mix of disbelief and relief. “You didn’t leave,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You shook your head, reaching out to touch his face, to ground him in the reality of your presence as you brushed his bangs away from his eyes. He saw you a little better under the light, and he stared hard, scrutinizing your features as if he wondered if you were real.

“No, of course not. I’m right here with you.”

His eyes held yours for a moment, searching for something – reassurance, comfort, perhaps a sign that you truly meant what you said. Slowly, the tension in his body began to ease, though you could still feel the lingering effects of whatever horrors had haunted his dreams. You stayed like that for a while, your hand trailing down his cheek, his gaze locked on yours, until finally, he closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath.

You lay back down beside him, but sleep was still far from your grasp. Instead, you stared up at the ceiling, your thoughts spinning in the darkness.

You had chosen to stay, to forget the man you once loved and to build a life with the man beside you. But the memories of Kiyoomi lingered, just as Rintaro’s fears lingered, both of you trapped in a past you couldn’t entirely leave behind. And as the night wore on, you found yourself hoping – praying – that time would work its magic, that the wounds would heal, and that one day, this life would feel like enough. That this life would stop feeling like it was something you would want to run away from.

The mornings in the mountains were always serene, the world still wrapped in a blanket of soft mist as the sun slowly began its ascent. The forest, with its towering trees and the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze, had become a place of both comfort and anxiety for you. It was here that Rin had started his morning walks, slipping out of bed before dawn to find solace in the quiet solitude of the woods. But each time he left, a knot of worry tightened in your chest, fearing that one day he might not come back.

Today was no different.

You had woken early, as you had been doing for the past few months, to join him on these walks. The crisp morning air was cool against your skin, and the soft crunch of leaves beneath your boots was the only sound that accompanied your footsteps. Rin walked beside you, his hand warm around yours, guiding you through the familiar path.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the trees, you glanced up at him. His face was calm, but you could see the lingering shadows of sleepless nights in his eyes. He squeezed your hand gently, and then, as if drawn by some invisible force, he leaned in to kiss your cheek, the gesture as natural as breathing.

“I’m not sure I like this morning routine of yours,” you murmured, breaking the silence that had settled between you.

Rin’s lips curved into a small, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I just have trouble sleeping, and taking a walk calms my mind.”

Rin’s nightmares had become a constant presence in your lives, a dark shadow that clung to the quiet of the night. At first, they were sporadic, just an occasional disruption to your sleep. You would wake to find him thrashing beside you, his breaths ragged and shallow as he wrestled with the demons of his past. A soft touch or a whispered word would be enough to calm him, to pull him back from whatever horrors plagued his dreams. But as the months passed, the nightmares grew more frequent, more intense.

There were nights when you would wake to the sound of his strangled cries, his body drenched in sweat, the bed sheets twisted around him as if they were binding him in place. His face, usually so composed, would be contorted in fear or pain, his hands gripping the mattress as though it was the only thing anchoring him to reality. It was in those moments that your heart ached the most, seeing the man you loved tormented by memories he couldn’t escape.

You tried to help him, staying awake late into the night, watching over him like a silent guardian. But the more you observed, the more you realized how deeply the nightmares had taken root. There were times when he would mumble incoherently in his sleep, his words a jumbled mix of regret and sorrow, apologies meant for someone he couldn’t reach. Sometimes, he would wake up with a start, his eyes wide and unseeing, as if still trapped in the nightmare’s grip, and it would take him several minutes to recognize where he was, to remember that he was safe.

The worst nights were the ones where he would fall back into sleep only to be dragged into another nightmare almost immediately. You would feel him trembling beside you, his breath hitching as the terror took hold again. On those nights, the darkness seemed endless, stretching on forever with no relief in sight. You could do nothing but hold him, your own heart pounding in fear for him, wishing you could take away his pain.

It wasn’t just the nights that were affected. The lack of restful sleep began to take its toll on Rin during the day. He moved through your quiet life in the mountains with a heaviness that hadn’t been there before, his shoulders constantly slumped, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion. The spark that had once lit up his gaze when he looked at you was dimmed, replaced by a haunted expression that he couldn’t quite shake.

You worried for him constantly, the anxiety gnawing at you with each passing day.

The isolation of your new life, which had once felt like a blessing, now felt like a curse. There was no one here to help him, no one who could offer him the support he so desperately needed. It was just the two of you, alone in the mountains, and you felt helpless in the face of his suffering.

Rin tried to hide it, of course. He would force a smile when you looked at him too long, crack a joke to ease the tension, or brush off your concern with a wave of his hand. But you could see through the façade, see how the nightmares had begun to wear him down, chipping away at his spirit bit by bit.

As the year wore on, the nightmares became a fixture of your life, an inescapable reality that you both had to endure. And with each one, your fear grew.

You feared for Rin, for the toll this was taking on him, and you feared for the future, wondering how much longer he could withstand this torment before it broke him completely. You feared that the man you loved might one day be consumed by the darkness that haunted his dreams, and that no matter how tightly you held on to him, it wouldn’t be enough to pull him back.

You knew what that meant. The nightmares still haunted him, though he rarely spoke of them. You stopped walking for a moment, turning to face him fully. “Is it the nightmares?” you asked softly, your voice filled with concern. “Next time, you should wake me up so I can be there for you.”

He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly as he looked at you. “I don’t know… You need to get all the rest you need.”

“Rin,” you said, your tone gentle but firm. “We’re not really doing anything here that takes up too much of my time. I’m pretty sure I’ve gotten all the rest that I need.”

He let out a soft sigh, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Fine,” he relented, though there was a hint of reluctance in his voice.

“You really should’ve woken me up sooner,” you continued, your tone lightening as you tried to ease the tension. “I would’ve loved watching every sunrise with you.”

He smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a pause, a beat of silence where you could almost feel the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. And then, as if he couldn’t hold it in any longer, he asked, “Do you… do you still think about him?”

You knew immediately who he meant. The name lingered between you, unspoken but understood. “Kiyoomi.”

“Yeah. I do.”

“Do you miss him?”

Your breath caught in your throat for a moment, the familiar ache of longing tugging at your heart. “I do… A lot,” you admitted, your voice soft and tinged with sadness. “But it doesn’t change a thing for me. I’d still keep on choosing to be here with you.”

He looked at you, his gaze searching, as if trying to find the truth in your words. “You really don’t regret it?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You shook your head, a small, reassuring smile playing on your lips. “No. I think this is the quietest my life’s ever been, and I never thought that was possible.”

“I don’t know,” Rin said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he tried to lighten the mood. “Your life used to be pretty dull before you met me.”

You chuckled softly, the sound carrying on the cool morning air. “That’s true. My life took an unexpected turn when you came into my world.”

His smile faltered slightly, the guilt he carried still evident in his eyes. “I know it’s not going to change anything, but I’m really sorry for everything I did to you.”

You reached up, cupping his face gently in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his cheeks. “I know you are,” you said softly. “I won’t ever forget it, you know. The pain that you put me through. But I won’t hold it against you forever, either – we both need to move on. And the past year of being here with you… you’ve been greater to me than you ever were.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch, as if trying to absorb the comfort you offered. “I’m trying to make up for it.”

“I don’t regret it,” you repeated, your voice steady and full of conviction. “I don’t regret you.”

His eyes opened, meeting yours with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. “I know,” he said quietly. “I hope you never do.”

You and Rin had carved out a life here in the mountains, hidden away from the world, surviving on the money you had brought with you. It wasn’t much, and you knew it wouldn’t last forever, but for now, it was enough. Finding jobs was out of the question – exposure would be too dangerous, a risk neither of you could afford to take. So, you made do with what you had, stretching every resource as far as it could go.

Despite the limitations, you found a happiness that you hadn’t known was possible. The tension and fear that had defined so much of your past were gone, replaced by a warmth that grew between you and Rin.

You fell into a routine that was both simple yet deeply fulfilling – so domestic that you sometimes were struck in awe that it was possible for you and him to never argue. You cooked meals with what ingredients you had, experimenting with recipes and flavors that were new to you. Rin would clean up after, meticulously washing the dishes and wiping down the counters, always taking care to leave the kitchen spotless. It was a dance you both moved through effortlessly, a silent understanding that had formed over time on who took over which chores.

In this secluded life, you and Rin had grown more affectionate, the distance that once existed between you slowly dissolving.

It was as if you had been transported back in time to the days when he was still courting you, the days when every touch, every glance, had been filled with the thrill of new love. Now, there were stolen kisses in the middle of the day, hands that found each other in the quiet moments, and long nights spent tangled together under the blankets. It was a closeness that you had never imagined you would have with him, a warmth that made you feel alive in a way you hadn’t for years.

One chilly afternoon, you found yourself watching Rin as he chopped wood outside the cabin, preparing to build a fire to keep you both warm. He was focused, his brow furrowed in concentration as he swung the axe with surprising precision. You couldn’t help but smile, leaning against the doorframe as you admired the scene. It was so different from the life you had known, and yet it felt right, like this was how things were always meant to be. Just as you were about to call out to him, your mind played a trick on you. Instead of Rintaro swinging the axe back, you suddenly pictured Kiyoomi – drenched with sweat, his shirt sticking to him as he effortlessly chopped wood. It would’ve been something he did normally back at the farmhouse.

You immediately blinked the image away.

Kiyoomi wasn’t here. You had your husband instead, dressed in a brown shirt instead of a white one like Kiyoomi always wore. Rintaro’s hair was longer now, too, long enough that he could tie the ends of it in a tiny ponytail – something he’d asked you to teach him once.

“Since when have you learned to chop wood?” you teased, the playful tone in your voice breaking the quiet.

Rin paused, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He turned to you with a grin, the familiar spark of mischief in his eyes. “YouTube teaches you a lot,” he replied, his voice light. “Look up my search history. Surviving the Wilderness: Part One.”

You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Building a fire. Huh. I never would’ve imagined.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and warm, as he resumed chopping the wood. “Neither did I,” he admitted. “But I’m figuring it out. Just like we’re figuring everything else out. Besides, it’s almost winter, and I don’t want us to freeze our asses off.”

You watched him for a moment longer, feeling a swell of affection as you took in the sight of him – strong, determined, doing whatever it took to keep you both safe and comfortable. The Rin you knew had always been capable, but this was different. He was adapting, learning new skills, and embracing this life with a resolve that made you love him even more.

It was in these quiet moments, surrounded by the stillness of the mountains, that you realized just how much you had both grown. The struggles you faced were real, and there were days when the challenges felt overwhelming. But you faced them together, and that made all the difference. This life was far from perfect, but it was yours, and as long as you had Rin by your side, you knew you could face anything. You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the chill in the air, but it was a welcome kind of cold, one that reminded you of the warmth waiting inside. Watching Rin work, you felt a deep sense of contentment, a peace that had once seemed impossible. You were no longer the princess of Inarizaki, burdened by duty and expectations. Here, in this quiet corner of the world, you were simply a woman in love, sharing a life with the man who had become your everything.

You just had to stop thinking about the Prince you’d left behind, and everything would’ve been perfect.

After storing the chopped wood neatly beside the cabin, Rin finally built the fire, the crackling warmth spreading through the small living space. The cabin had become your sanctuary, a place where the outside world couldn’t reach you. As the fire roared to life, you prepared dinner, the aroma of simmering vegetables and spices filling the room. Rin watched you for a moment, his gaze soft and affectionate, before excusing himself for his daily walk.

You still accompanied him on his morning walks, but you had noticed that sometimes, he needed those walks alone. You didn’t question it, understanding that he needed time to process everything, to find peace in his own way. So, when he left, you focused on finishing the meal, knowing he would return soon.

When Rin came back, there was a change in him. For the first time in a long while, he didn’t look like he had been battling his demons. Instead, he seemed lighter, almost happy, with a hint of excitement in his eyes. You looked up from the table as he entered, curiosity piqued by the newfound energy in his step.

“Let’s go somewhere after dinner,” he said, his voice carrying an eagerness that made you smile.

You raised an eyebrow, playfully skeptical. “We can’t go to town so soon.”

He shook his head, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “We’re not going to town.”

“Then where?”

“Just trust me. You’ll love it.”

Intrigued, you agreed, and after a quick meal, Rin led you out of the cabin, guiding you through the forest paths that had become so familiar. The path to the lake was one you’d walked countless times before, the familiar crunch of leaves and twigs underfoot, the cool breeze winding through the trees, and the gentle rustling of branches overhead. You knew every rock, every bend in the trail, so when Rin had suggested taking you somewhere new, you'd been skeptical. What else could there possibly be to see?

But now, as you trailed behind him, your hand held securely in his, you couldn’t help but marvel at the way he moved with purpose, as if he were leading you somewhere magical. His broad back seemed to block the rest of the world from view, the strength in his stride grounding you, keeping you tethered right at his side. You couldn’t help the warmth blooming through your chest. A hundred times, you’d held his hand. A hundred times, you’d breathed in his scent – the smell of the soap you both shared, the scent of the cheap laundry detergent, and the hint of pine from the trees whenever he spent the day outside. A hundred times you’d had him, and still, you were caught taken aback during times like these.

He was mine now. A sentiment you had always held within your close, so confidently and so true. He was yours as you were his, even before he’d placed rings on your fingers. But this time? It felt real. Here, in the middle of nowhere where the titles are gone and your names were different on the rare times people would ask, you’d never felt more like yourself. More like his wife. Unconsciously, you squeezed his hand tighter as you let him lead you deeper into the forest.

Because you knew you would’ve followed him wherever he went.

The trees began to thin as you entered a clearing, and that’s when you saw it – a lake, nestled quietly in the heart of the woods, its surface shimmering beneath the glow of the moon. It stretched out before you, the dark water rippling gently with the breeze, reflecting the sky in a way that made the stars seem to dance on the surface.

The moonlight kissed the edges of the lake, casting an ephemeral glow that made the scene look almost unreal. The trees encircling the water stood tall and proud, their shadows dancing across the surface, adding a touch of mystery to the place. It felt secluded, hidden from the rest of the world, a secret just for the two of you. You stood there for a moment, taking it all in. The cold, biting air nipped at your skin, but the beauty of the scene made you forget the chill. Rin stood beside you now, his hand still entwined with yours.

“Oh, Rin,” you breathed, taking in the serene beauty before you. “It’s so beautiful here.”

His smile widened, pleased by your reaction. “Come on. Let’s take a dip.”

You hesitated, the chill in the air making you shiver slightly. “Isn’t it too cold for you?”

He stepped closer, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you into his warmth. “I have you to warm me up.”

The moment you both dipped into the water, a sharp chill shot through your body, making you shiver and gasp at the coldness of it. Rin winced too, his shoulders tense as he adjusted to the sudden temperature. But neither of you retreated. Instead, you splashed water at him, laughing as he sputtered in surprise. He retaliated by sending a wave of water your way, both of you caught up in a playful exchange that echoed through the trees.

“Oh, you want to play like that, huh?” he spat out water, his eyes narrowed in a threat. A squeal erupted out of you when you saw him begin to flick water your direction.

The moonlight reflected off the surface of the lake, glistening as your laughter filled the night. You moved closer to Rin, clinging to him as he waded deeper, your body shaking with giggles and shivers alike. His arms were solid, reassuring as they held you steady in the water. Instinctively, you flattened your feet against his sides, hoping to steal some of his warmth, earning a quiet grumble from him. But even as he complained, you could see the amusement dancing in his eyes, the corners of his mouth fighting a smile.

You stayed like that, the two of you laughing so hard your sides ached, your cheeks flushed from the cold and the pure joy of the moment. It felt as though time had stopped, and the rest of the world had melted away, leaving just the two of you, weightless and free in the water. In that instant, nothing else mattered. It was perfect in its simplicity, a memory you could hold onto forever.

As you swam closer to him, the water rippling gently between you, there was a shift in the air.

Something heavy, almost tangible, lingered between you and Rin – an unspoken tension that made the world around you slow. You locked eyes with him, and for a moment, neither of you moved. His gaze, dark and contemplative, held yours, the weight of it sending a different kind of shiver through your body, one that had nothing to do with the cold water. The playful splashing and laughter from earlier faded into the background, leaving only the quiet sounds of the lake and the soft rustling of the trees around you.

There was a hesitation. You’d kissed Rin before – many times. It had always felt effortless, natural, like something you did without thinking, a reflex born of the years you’d spent together. But this time, the air between you was charged with something deeper, something more complicated. Both of you stood still, suspended in that delicate moment where time felt like it might fracture under the weight of what you were too afraid to say aloud.

The past lingered in the space between your bodies, reminding you of the others who had once filled your hearts. The love that still tugged at you when you thought of those times, those people. It wasn’t something either of you could escape. You had both longed for someone else, had lives once built on dreams you thought would come true with others. Yet here you were, drawn back to one another, the years of distance and heartache only sharpening the realization that what remained between you was real.

Rin made the first move, his hand hesitantly reaching out to you under the water. When his fingers curled gently around yours, it felt like a quiet promise, a reassurance. Slowly, carefully, he pulled you closer, his eyes never leaving yours. There was no rush, no urgency. Just the steady, unspoken acknowledgment that this was different. It had always been different.

As his face neared yours, you could feel your heart pounding, not with the excitement of something new, but with the quiet realization of something you had known all along. Rin leaned in, his lips brushing yours softly, as though he were testing the waters of a deeper truth. The kiss wasn’t fiery or overwhelming. There were no butterflies, no fireworks exploding behind your eyes. Instead, it was gentle, tender—like the first sip of warm tea on a cold night. His lips were familiar, comforting, and the way they moved against yours felt like coming home after a long, exhausting journey.

You breathed him in, his scent mingling with the damp earth and crisp air around you. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, not out of desire but out of need—an unspoken need for the stability and love he had always offered. The world around you seemed to blur, fading into the soft, rhythmic sound of your breathing and the gentle splash of water as you floated together in that quiet, peaceful moment.

There was a sweetness to the kiss, but it carried with it the weight of the past—the knowledge of all you had endured to reach this point. It wasn’t the kind of kiss that sent your heart racing; it was the kind that settled deep into your bones, reminding you of everything you had been through together, of all the things that couldn’t be undone. It was as if, in that one moment, the years of distance, pain, and longing were washed away, leaving only the simplicity of what had always been between you.

Rin held you close, his touch soft yet secure, and for the first time in a long while, you felt utterly safe. The warmth of his body pressed against yours, the way his lips moved with a quiet reverence, made you feel like you belonged. Not to the world, or to the kingdom you’d left behind, but to him. To this moment.

There was no rush. No desperation. Only the slow, steady realization that the love you had for each other had never left. It had simply been buried beneath the weight of all the things you thought you needed to be, all the expectations and dreams that hadn’t worked out. And now, standing here with him, feeling the solidity of his presence, you knew that this was what you had been looking for all along.

The kiss ended softly, naturally, like the final notes of a lullaby, and when you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, eyes closed, soaking in the warmth of his breath against your skin. It wasn’t about passion, or excitement, or even romance. It was about finding peace in each other’s presence, knowing that no matter where life took you, this moment, this love, was the only constant.

You didn’t need the world. You didn’t need anything beyond what you had right there with him. The ache in your heart for what was lost still lingered, but it no longer hurt. It was just… there, like a distant memory. Something that had shaped you, but no longer defined you.

“I really don’t deserve you,” Rin whispered, his voice thick with emotion, the vulnerability in his words cutting through the peaceful night.

You pressed a finger to his lips, silencing his doubt. “Shhh. Nothing could hurt us now.”

He held you tighter, his face buried in your neck, and for a moment, you both just breathed, letting the quiet reassurance of your love settle between you. The weight of the past year, the fear, the guilt—it all seemed to fade in the embrace of the night, leaving only the two of you, together, stronger than ever.

For the first time in a long time, you felt truly safe. The world might have changed, your titles and riches might have been left behind, but here, with Rin, you had found something far more valuable – the promise of a marriage you’d always longed for.

Rin loved this life with you, however undeserving he thought he was.

He got to wake up next to you every morning, shared every meal with you, and could kiss and touch you whenever he liked. It wasn’t always this easy, though, he’d admit. You hadn’t always been so… giving. He knew this, because he was always watching, always looking at you whenever you thought he wouldn’t notice. And he wasn’t stupid. He’d known you for many years, had spent most of that time analyzing the slightest twitch of your brows, down to the most miniscule curl of your lip to try and decode what those gestures meant. He knew, without a doubt, you still thought of him. He also knew, undoubtedly, and with pure conviction, that you loved him still.

Just not the way you used to.

He’d long given up on that – the possibility that things would go back to the way it was. Rintaro had thrown out that absurd idea out the window. The hurt would always remain, and the lies he’d spilled would be etched bone-deep until the day he reached his grave. You wouldn’t ever forgive him, but this… having you in his home, having you in his arms, being allowed the freedom to still speak your name with that softness he’d never had with anyone before, it was enough. It would be enough, for now. He just had to pretend he couldn’t see you – the way you would tuck your cheek onto your shoulder, lashes fluttering against your cheeks as you shut your eyes, each time his arm would wrap your waist before a slight, barely noticeable grimace would settle onto your features. You always acted on instinct, to always turn away and flinch each time he got near.

You thought he’d never notice. The way your eyes turn downcast, or the way your hands go still around the cheap cereal bowl you’d gotten at a fleece market each time something reminded you of the Prince you’d left behind. Each time his name was mentioned in the radio, you would freeze, your gaze travelling off the distance even though there was nothing to see but trees beyond the windows.

You thought Rintaro wouldn’t see all those things.

Nearly two years later, Rintaro could barely recognize you.

Gone was the woman he’d laid his eyes on at Tobio’s ball, the one bedazzled with the jewelry even the former Queen couldn’t have. Gone was the woman who was pampered and beloved by all. There was just you, and the faint traces of it. You’d lost weight – not enough to worry him, but enough to remind him of the comfortable and secure life he’d robbed you of, regardless if it had been your choice, too. And during the early hours of the day when sleep wouldn’t come to him, you always cried. Always. Sometimes, you cried out for your mother. But more often than not, you would always whisper his name, the sound so broken and desperate that it almost sounded like a plea. You would clutch the thin sheet (a poor excuse of a blanket, really) up to your chest, and keep crying in your sleep. The next day when you woke, Rintaro is sitting shock-still beside you on your bed, and you wonder why he couldn’t sleep at all.

You loved him. Rintaro knew that – you wouldn’t have risked it all and came with him if there wasn’t a tiny part in your heart that held him still. But he also knew you loved Kiyoomi and missed him dearly, so much so that Rintaro often has to fight the urge to call his brother and have him take you away.

Some days, he pondered on just that.

How easy it would be to buy a phone on the rare times he went downtown, call Kiyoomi, and ask him to finally come get you. He wouldn’t know what the consequences of that would be. For all he knew, he could be putting you in more danger by exposing you to the eyes of the Kingdom. He knew, however, that you might not hate the idea so much – that you might even thank him for taking on the burden of making the decision for you. Rintaro wasn’t foolish enough to not recognize that you had this pleading look in your eyes sometimes, one that begged at him to become the bad guy again, to give you a reason to run away. Maybe you wouldn’t be so inclined to stay with him anymore if he’d just let his true colors to be revealed.

Try as he might, Rintaro couldn’t find it in himself to give you anymore reasons to hate him. If anything, it was the opposite. It took him nearly a year to realize your heart was too big, too pure. No matter how much he kept his distance, telling himself that being together didn’t have to mean being together, he would always be drawn to you – and you would always coax him out of the protective walls he’d set up around his heart.

You were always there, and he hated it. He hated how you never gave him even the smallest moment to stop loving you. It could’ve been easier for him that way. Instead, you were the first thing he laid his eyes on when he woke, his name the first thing you would utter in that sleepy, raspy voice of yours as you smiled up at him with the first stretch of sunlight. How could he do it, then? How could he fall out of love with you when he’d lost everything except you? That thought itself sometimes had him wondering, too, if you loved him out of loyalty, or if you loved him because like him, you simply had nothing and no one else.

But that wouldn’t be entirely true, could it? You had your parents. You had Kiyoomi. You had some of the Princes wrapped around your finger – one who loved you like a sister, one who had a former adoration for you, and one with an unwavering loyalty in his support.

You could still have a second chance in life.

Rintaro didn’t have that anymore.

It was that realization in mind that gave him the courage to start lying to you again. Unbeknownst to you, Rintaro had been visiting the town more often. It started off as just once a week, familiarizing himself with the shops and hidden passages he could easily sneak off to. Then he began visiting more often, twice a week to finally buy a phone and contact his not-so brother.

Shinsuke, no longer Prince Kita, was now a lawmaker. From the few and far occurrences where he’d been in touch with the older man, he’d understood why Shinsuke made that decision. He’d had enough of the darkness and corruption of the monarchy – couldn’t see himself holding onto the respectable title of Prince now that he’d learned of everything the former Queen, and some of his brothers, did. Drowning in shame and anger at the Palace he’d once called home, he renounced his title and set out to make things better. With his goals aligned with Wakatoshi, who had now been crowned King, Inarizaki was recovering – little by little.

And they’d talked about you.

Wakatoshi wasn’t entirely pleased after finding out that you and Rintaro had upped and left. It didn’t change the fact you were both still criminals in the eyes of the Kingdom, but it was a Kingdom that was his. And as stoic as he may be, Wakatoshi wasn’t unforgiving. It took a few more months of convincing before he finally agreed to give you another chance – you. Not him. Regardless of whether Rintaro had never willingly played the part of the Queen’s pawn to secure her title, Wakatoshi and Shinsuke both couldn’t find any post for Rintaro within the Royal Family where he could return. But you did – you could return, and be forgiven. You could have a second chance in life.

Rintaro had never wanted to lie to you again, but he couldn’t stop it. For many nights, and many more months to come, he was only plagued by one thought as he counted his last day: the urge to finally give you the life you deserved.

Someday, he promised, I’ll make it all right for you.

Rintaro woke up before dawn, the faint light just beginning to creep through the curtains. You were still asleep beside him, your breath slow and steady, your face soft with peace that was rare in the waking world. For a moment, he let himself lie there, watching you, memorizing every detail – how your hair fanned out on the pillow, the curve of your lips, the way you unconsciously curled toward him.

He was living the dream. Every morning, he woke up next to you, and he could kiss you whenever he wanted. It was everything he’d ever hoped for when you first chose him, when you left everything behind to build this life together. But deep down, he knew it couldn’t last. This life, as peaceful as it seemed, was fragile. The simplicity, the isolation – it was wearing on you. He could see it in the way you hesitated at the store, holding back from buying the things you liked. He noticed how you’d glance at the few items in the cart and sigh quietly, as if you were measuring out not just money, but a piece of yourself each time. You were budgeting your life now, in a way that went far beyond groceries.

It wasn’t just about the material things either. You weren’t able to talk to people like you used to, to be yourself.

You were hiding. From the world, from your past, from the person you once were. You’d severed almost every connection to the ones you loved – Tobio, Kiyoomi, your family –all because you couldn’t risk being found. He’d never forget that time your mother’s birthday came around, and you excused yourself during dinner, hiding in the bathroom where you muffled your cries upon missing them. And staying here, with him, meant you’d have to keep living this way, in the shadows.

He couldn’t let it go on.

Rintaro closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He didn’t deserve you, he never had. And now, he was starting to see that staying with him might be ruining your life. You deserved more than this half-existence. More than the fear of being discovered, more than rationing out pieces of yourself just to survive. He wanted to keep you with him forever, but he knew deep down that this was too good to be true. One day, something would break – either the life you’d built together or your spirit. And he couldn’t bear to see you trapped any longer.

As you stirred beside him, your eyes fluttering open, he forced a smile, brushing your hair gently from your face. But in his heart, he knew what he had to do. He had to let you go. For your sake, even if it meant losing everything he ever wanted.

“Hey,” you breathed out, a small smile on your face. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he echoed, his voice croaking more than he’d like. He couldn’t help it; he felt like there was a lump in his throat, making it difficult to speak. “I’m…” I’m sorry, he wanted to say, I love you and I’m sorry. The words never left his lips. “I’m going to prepare you breakfast, and then go out to prepare some firewood.”

The lie was easy enough to tell. It was a routine you’d gotten used to – he always woke up first to prepare your meals while you showered, so you could eat right away right after. Rintaro would share his breakfast with you, often dropping a berry or two onto your plate, urging you to eat more. Shortly after, he’d disappear out in the woods to look for firewood, and you would set out to wash the laundry, or whatever it was that you did when he wasn’t around.

You didn’t question him as he left the bed. To you, it would just be any other day. But to him, it might as well be the last time he ever saw you, so he allowed himself to indulge in the sight of you a little longer.

The straps of your nightgown were slipping down one shoulder, one of your hands on top of it as you stretched your muscles. Your eyes were closed, and with the sunlight dripping behind your languid form, Rintaro was almost tempted to stay. To tell Shinsuke he’d changed his mind. To tell your parents that he was sorry, yet again, because he wanted to stay with you a little longer.

Rintaro closed the bedroom door shut behind him, willing himself to keep walking away. He couldn’t back out – not now.

The smell of breakfast cooking puled you from bed, and you quietly made your way to the kitchen, drawn in by the warmth of it all – Rintaro at the stove, the soft sizzle of food frying. He stood there, stirring something in the pan, but his mind seemed far away. You paused at the doorway, watching him. His broad shoulders, the gentle concentration etched on his face.

A smile tugged at your lips as you walked over, lightly bumping his arm. “Hey,” you teased. “You’re spacing out again.”

He’d been doing that more often. Just randomly staring out into space, and it’d take you more than three times to call out his name before he snapped out of it. It was slightly hilarious, you thought. How he went from being this effortless charmer to this almost shy, reserved man you called your husband. It was as if… the loss of his titles, and the identity he’d known, had given way to the appearance of this not-so new person. Someone quieter, someone gentler, someone more tender. You couldn’t say you didn’t like it. Nevertheless, it was slightly alarming at first. How someone could change so much – but you weren’t a stranger to that, were you? You’d seen Rintaro in his best and worst, and somehow, learned to love him in both.

He blinked, startled, then turns to you with a soft smile, shaking his head as if to clear the thoughts that had taken him away. “It’s nothing,” he said, but his gaze lingers on you, warm and tender. And then, without warning, he added, “You’re beautiful.”

The words hit you harder than expected. You hadn’t felt beautiful in a long time – not with the way things had been. The stress, the hiding, the weight of everything hanging over your head. But the way he looked at you just then, like you were the one who hung the moon and stars, you couldn’t help but believe he meant it. His eyes were so full of love, so full of something deep and true, warmth spread all over your skin.

You tried to play it off, hiding your smile behind your hand as you lean against the counter beside him. “You’re ridiculous,” you mumbled with a shy laugh, but you couldn’t deny the way your heart felt lighter, the way his words made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t in so long.

The moment stretched in silence, comfortable and intimate, with the soft clatter of dishes and the gentle aroma of breakfast filling the space between you. You watched as Rintaro moved around the kitchen, steady and familiar, and for a fleeting second, everything feels perfect. Simple, but perfect.

When he finally plated the food, he hands you yours first, and wordlessly drops an extra helping from his own plate onto yours. It was a small gesture, but it made you smile wider. He always did things like that – quietly making sure you were taken care of, in all the little ways that spoke louder than words.

You didn’t argue. Instead, you sat down at the table, your heart full as you glanced at him. In the smallest acts, there was love. And as you sat there, the morning sunlight filtering through the window, the quiet hum of life surrounding you both, you realized just how much he meant to you. How much you loved him, too.

After breakfast, you took the plates to the sink, rolling up your sleeves as the warm water rushes over your hands. The clink of dishes and the soft hum of your thoughts filled the room while Rintaro puts on his jacket, getting ready to head out and gather firewood. He caught your eye before leaving, giving you that small, reassuring smile that always makes your heart twist. He didn’t say much, but he didn’t need to. The weight of everything hangs in the unspoken silence between you both.

Once the door closes behind him, the house felt quieter, emptier. You wiped down the table, the counters, and then swept the floor, keeping yourself busy. There was always something to clean or tidy up, something to organize in this new life you’ve carved out together. It wasn’t much, but it was enough – at least for now.

But as you moved around the small house, thoughts crept in. You sit down at the table again, pulling out what little remains of the money your parents had given you when they sent you both off. The stack was thin, much thinner than it used to be. You counted the bills, the coins, over and over, but no matter how you add it up, it was clear that it wasn’t going to last.

A sigh escaped your lips as you pressed your fingertips against your forehead, trying to push away the rising anxiety. You’d already been careful, budgeting, avoiding any unnecessary purchases, only getting the bare essentials, but the truth was unavoidable. It wasn’t enough. Soon, it will run out, and what then? You would be lying if you said you never considered this life was going to be permanent now. You would be lying again if you also said that the thought of having children didn’t cross your mind, and how could it not? It had been nearly two years since you’d lived here, and Rintaro had been nothing but perfect. You and him were finally living the peaceful married life you’d always dreamt of – where you woke up tangled in each other’s arms, listened to each other’s stories with rapt attention, and loved each other like today was going to be your last. Especially after that one night at the hidden lake, all the feelings you’d buried beneath a mountain of pain and hurt had resurfaced. You began to want him more, began to long for the next time he’d kiss you again, and even if he’d taken you night after night until you woke up late, sore and thoroughly loved, you couldn’t get enough of it. Couldn’t get enough of him.

The fake identities your parents had provided had been your lifeline, a way to survive without being recognized. But it wasn’t enough to keep you both hidden forever. Even with new names and fabricated pasts, the constant paranoia lingered. Getting a job would expose you, especially when neither of you knew the world outside the palace or the kingdom you’d left behind. You had no skills for this life, and the fear of being caught only made it harder to even try.

You glanced around the small space, the modest kitchen, the worn furniture, and the faint scent of breakfast still lingering in the air. It wasn’t the life you were born into, but it was the life you chose. And despite the uncertainty, despite the fear that gnawed at the back of your mind, you wouldn’t trade it. Not for anything.

Still, the weight of it all pressed down. You stood up and move to the window, watching the faint outline of the forest where Rintaro had disappeared. He’d be back soon, arms full of firewood, his face a little flushed from the cold. You could picture it clearly, his warm smile as he set the logs down by the hearth, the small moments of peace you found in each other’s company.

But for now, you were alone with your worries. You folded the bills neatly and tucked them away, pushing the anxiety to the back of your mind. It wouldn’t help to dwell on it – although maybe having a child was out of the question now. Not when you and Rintaro could barely get through.

Unable to help it, your mind drifted back to the beach house he’d bought for you.

And here’s the backyard – plenty of space for our future kids to play in. I’m thinking twins, one boy and one girl, and then we’ll stop trying for another. Two little devils should be enough. The boy needs to be the eldest though, so he can protect his little Princess. You smiled at the memory, reminiscing of a time when you had the world and everything else – before everything fell apart. Gaze trailing from where Rintaro had left, you sighed. You missed him already.

So you waited, listening to the ticking of the clock, the quiet creaks of the house, and the sound of the wind outside, hoping that somehow, everything will be okay. Because despite the uncertainty, despite the fear, you trusted him. And in this quiet moment, that trust is all you have. Everything would work out. It just had to.

When Rintaro finally returned, with an armful of firewood and his boots laden with dirt, you all but rushed out the door and rushed into him. It took him a few seconds before he realized what you were doing, and hastily dropped the wood beneath his feet. A small ‘oomph’ escaped his chest as you ran into his arms, your chest colliding with his. Arms wrapped around his neck and your legs around his waist, you breathed in the scent of him – like sweat, soap, and a hint of pine. He smelled so Rintaro, and entirely all yours.

“Whoa,” he exclaimed, slightly swaying from how you nearly knocked him over.

Heat crept up the back of your neck as it dawned on you what you did, and you grimaced, burying your head deeper into his neck. “Sorry. I just missed you too much.”

“I wasn’t gone for that long.”

“It felt like a long time,” you murmured, pulling back to glance at what he’d gathered. “Did you get enough firewood?”

“I did, yeah,” he nodded, not once letting go of you. His hand ran up and down your spine in soothing motions, much like how he often did to lull you to sleep after a long night of making love. Your body reacted instantaneously at the gesture. Grinding down on him, you bit your lip, too shy to meet his gaze when your husband inhaled sharply. “I-I’ll get started on dinner.”

You tried not to let disappointment get to you when he put you down. “Wait,” you called out to him, and Rintaro stopped, briefly glancing at you over his shoulder. “Your hair’s getting long.”

“Oh,” he touched the tips of his hair, as if only realizing now he’d grown out bangs. “I guess it is.”

“Come here. I’ll give you a haircut.”

His hair had grown out a lot since you’d left everything behind, and while you loved the messy, rugged look on him, you’d been itching to tidy it up. Without waiting for a response, you grabbed a spare sheet, tied it around his neck, and led him to the chair.

He didn’t protest, just sat there quietly as you combed your fingers through his hair. The room fell into a thick silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable – it was heavy, like there was something unsaid between you. The scissors made soft snipping sounds as you worked, trimming away the overgrown locks, and you could feel his gaze on you, though he never said a word. Every so often, your fingers brushed the back of his neck, and you could feel the heat between you both rising.

You tried to focus on the task at hand, but your mind kept wandering. There was something about this moment, the quiet intimacy of it. You weren’t just cutting his hair – it was like you were touching something deeper, something that had been building between you for a while now. And it scared you a little.

When you finished, you stepped back, admiring your work. His hair was shorter than you’d intended, but it suited him. He looked different, more mature. His sharp features were more pronounced now, no longer hidden behind the shaggy locks. It made him look… handsome. More than that, he looked like the man you knew he was, someone who had been through so much, and yet, still stood strong. Not quite such a Prince anymore, yet he couldn’t look more like himself. More like the Rintaro you’d fallen for even without the pretense of titles.

Before you realized it, you had moved closer again, your body almost instinctively finding its way to his lap. You settled there without thinking, knees on either side of him as you stared at his new haircut. Your hands rested lightly on his shoulders, and the proximity made your heart race. You couldn’t help but admire him, running your fingers through the now-short strands. He looked up at you, and for a moment, the tension between you snapped tight. His eyes held yours, and it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. There was a quiet intensity in the way he looked at you, and for the first time, you truly saw him – no distractions, no walls, just Rintaro.

The way he looked at you made your breath hitch. It wasn’t just admiration – it was need, want, something that had been simmering between you both, unspoken but undeniable. And in that moment, sitting on his lap, your hands in his hair, it was clear you felt it too.

As you sat there, the air between you thick with tension, Rintaro’s hands slowly found their way to your waist, his touch hesitant at first, as if he wasn’t sure if he should. But once his fingers settled there, gripping gently, the hesitation melted away. Your pulse quickened, your breath caught in your throat, and you could feel the familiar warmth spreading through your body. The simplicity of his touch made it all the more intense.

Neither of you spoke, but words weren’t necessary. The atmosphere was charged with a mix of longing and vulnerability. You had been so close to him for so long – sharing the same space, the same struggles, the same quiet moments—but this was different. It felt like you were both finally acknowledging what had always been there, hidden beneath the surface.

Rintaro’s eyes searched yours, and for a second, he looked like he might say something, but instead, he just exhaled softly, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly. You weren’t sure if it was the way his breath hitched or the intensity of the moment, but you found yourself leaning down, your foreheads almost touching, the space between you growing impossibly small.

His gaze flickered down to your lips, and that was when you both hesitated again. You had kissed before, many times, but this felt different, weighted with the emotions you had tried to keep at bay. Neither of you could pretend anymore—there was no turning away from the truth. The love, the guilt, the fear, it all hovered between you, heavy and real.

And then, he leaned in, finally bridging the gap. The kiss wasn’t hurried or heated – it was slow, deliberate, like both of you were savoring this moment for what it was. His lips against yours felt comforting, familiar, and yet this time, it felt like more. The gentle press of his mouth, the way he cradled your face afterward, it all spoke of a kind of tenderness that had been growing between you for longer than either of you realized.

There were no fireworks, no sudden rush of heat. Instead, there was something even more powerful – an overwhelming sense of rightness. As his hands moved from your waist to pull you closer, you melted into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours as you clung to him. It was a moment suspended in time, and it felt like home. You breathed him in, your fingers threading through his freshly cut hair, and in that quiet, shared space, you both allowed yourselves to be vulnerable.

The kiss ended, but you didn’t move, your foreheads resting together as you caught your breath. It wasn’t explosive or wild; it was gentle and grounding. In his arms, you felt safe, like no matter what happened outside of this moment, you’d always have this – each other.

And for the first time in a long while, you both let yourselves believe that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

“I love you,” you blurted out, and Rintaro stiffened beneath your fingers.”

“…What?”

“I said, I love you,” you repeated, feeling like a weight had been lifted off your chest now that you’d said it. Deep down, you always had. The love that you had for him never disappeared – it was always there, lingering, sometimes more of a quiet voice that never spoke. But it was definitely roaring now in your chest, threatening to claw its way out of your chest as you held his gaze. “I know that… it hasn’t been easy, and I hadn’t said it in a long time, but I thought you should know. I love you, Rin. I never stopped loving you.”

Your husband shuddered beneath you, looking equally tortured and relieved. “But you can’t,” he whispered, his voice broken. “I haven’t been good to you. I never was from the start. I lied, and I cheated, and I hurt you again and again. I’m not someone who deserves your love.”

“I know,” you admitted, and something unreadable crossed in his face. “But I can’t help it, can I?” You were crying now, feeling the tears slip down your cheek before you could stop it.

“I don’t want you to regret it.”

You closed your eyes, grazing your lips to his. “That’s my decision to make.”

As you sat on his lap, your heart raced in your chest, the quiet tension between you shifting into something heavier, something desperate. His hands tightened on your waist, fingers digging in just a little more firmly than before, and you felt the heat of his body beneath yours. The room seemed to shrink around you, the air thickening with unspoken need.

You weren’t sure who moved first – maybe it was him, maybe it was you – but the next kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t slow or tender. It crashed over you like a wave, urgent and raw, as if neither of you could wait another second. His lips claimed yours with a fervor that startled you, and you responded in kind, matching his intensity as your hands moved to grip his shoulders, your fingers pressing into the fabric of his shirt.

The softness from before was gone, replaced with something almost wild. Your breath mingled in short, sharp gasps as his mouth moved against yours, hungry and demanding. It wasn’t angry, not really, but it felt like a release – of every emotion you’d been holding back, every moment of doubt, fear, and longing. His kiss was hard, almost bruising, but you welcomed it, pulling him closer, needing to feel him, to drown in him.

Your hands slid from his shoulders to the back of his neck, pulling him in as if you were afraid he might slip away. His hands roamed your back, pulling you flush against him, his touch rougher than usual, like he couldn’t get close enough, like it wasn’t enough to just hold you.

The heat between you flared, your bodies pressed together as if you could fuse into one, and the kiss deepened, growing more intense with every second. It felt like you were pouring everything you had into it – every fear, every hope, every piece of yourself that you had tried to keep hidden. His lips moved with an urgency that made your head spin, and you met him with the same frantic energy, kissing him harder, deeper, until you couldn’t tell where he ended and you began. The world outside faded into nothing, your mind consumed by the feel of his mouth on yours, the way his hands gripped you like he couldn’t bear to let go.

How you stumbled back to the bedroom was beyond you. The next thing you knew, you were being dropped onto the softness of your bad, Rintaro’s larger frame hovering over you. Your clothes abandoned on a pile next to his. Every worshipping touch on your body wasn’t sweet or careful. It was overwhelming, chaotic, and messy, filled with all the things you’d both tried to hold back. But it was real, and in that moment, you both gave in to it, to each other, with everything you had.

When you’d both crashed with pleasure, your name spoken in garbled moans, it felt like you had just stepped off the edge and found that he was there to catch you. And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

When you woke up that morning, it was with a sense of warmth and contentment you hadn’t felt in so long. The remnants of the night before lingered in your mind, and for a moment, everything felt perfect. You stretched beneath the covers, feeling the ache of last night in your bones but relishing the memory. You smiled, thinking of Rin, his touch, his kiss – how intimate you had been.

But the bed beside you was empty, and the sheets were cool. He was an early riser, so you didn’t think much of it at first. Maybe he was out on one of his usual morning walks through the woods to clear his head. You sighed, rolling over and pulling the blanket tighter around you for a few more minutes of quiet bliss before getting up.

When you finally rose from bed, the house was eerily still. You called out for him, expecting to hear his familiar voice call back, but there was only silence. It didn’t bother you at first – it wasn’t unusual that he had gone to gather some firewood; maybe he was preparing something outside. You went about your routine, washing up and getting dressed, still feeling a soft smile on your face.

But as the hours ticked by and there was no sign of Rin, a quiet sense of unease began to creep in. You stepped out into the cold, hoping to catch a glimpse of him by the tree line or near the shed. But there was nothing. Not a single footprint in the frost-covered ground, no telltale signs of him chopping wood or setting off on his usual walk.

Your pulse quickened. You hurried back inside, checking the small kitchen where he might have left a note, but there was nothing there either.

The unease sharpened into something colder and more piercing as you wandered into the bedroom and noticed it – his things were gone. His coat, once draped over the chair, and his boots, lined up neatly by the door, had vanished. The small bag he always kept packed with essentials was nowhere to be seen. The room, which had once been a haven of shared moments and passionate kisses, felt hollow, the absence of his presence rendering the space unbearably large and desolate.

A wave of disorientation washed over you, and you instinctively began opening drawers and rifling through closets, desperate to find some sign of his belongings. But each drawer you opened and every closet you searched yielded nothing but emptiness. His clothes, the few personal items that had once filled the room with his essence, were gone. It was as if he had disappeared into thin air, leaving no trace behind.

Panic surged through you, a rising tide of fear and confusion.

Your heart raced as you moved from room to room, your steps growing more frantic with each passing second. You searched under furniture, peered into corners, and even checked the storage spaces, hoping beyond hope that this was all just a terrible misunderstanding. But every corner you turned revealed only more absence, more vacancy, and the knot in your chest tightened painfully with each revelation of what was missing.

In the midst of your growing despair, your eyes caught sight of a small, folded piece of paper resting on the bedside table. Your hands trembled as you reached for it, unfolding it with a mixture of dread and anticipation. The note, penned in his familiar handwriting, offered no immediate comfort, but it was a tangible reminder that, even in his departure, he had left something behind – a final, aching fragment of his presence amid the overwhelming void.

He was gone.

You stood in the middle of the room, heart pounding in your chest as the realization fully sank in. The warmth you had woken up with was gone, replaced by a cold, hollow feeling you couldn’t shake. He’d left, and he hadn’t even said goodbye.

Exhaling through shaky breaths, you read the letter.

to my wife,

I want to begin by saying I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the pain and confusion I put you through. I know that no words can truly convey how much I regret knowing that I’d broken your heart, and continuously trampled on the trust you’d given me time and time again. I will forever be haunted by the memory of the hurt I’ve inflicted upon you, and I will never forgive myself for the sorrow I’ve brought into your life. You never deserved any of that, just as I never deserved the love you so freely gave me.

The past two years living in the cabin with you have been the greatest of my life.

Those moments, those days when it felt as though we were truly a happy husband and wife, those days when it felt as if nothing in the world could touch us ever again, are memories I will cherish for the rest of my life. Sometimes, in those quiet evenings, I allowed myself to dream and dared to hope that this life could be real – that we could live without fear, without pain. It was a fleeting hope, nothing but a silly dream of mine. A beautiful illusion that, even now, makes me yearn for what might have been. What could have been.

But the truth is… I couldn’t bear to see us – to see you – living in this constant state of hiding and looking over our shoulders out of fear. I couldn’t continue to witness the toll that our isolation, our running away, has taken on you, knowing that it was all because of me. We fled the kingdom to escape the consequences of my poorly timed decisions, and now I am confronted with the unbearable reality that our love and our lives are marred by the very choices I made. I could only run so far from them. There is only so much distance I can put between me and the past, but the ghosts of my mistakes will always haunt me, and I can no longer stand and watch as you, too, suffer from it.

You have shown me a love and loyalty that I didn’t deserve, and for that, I am eternally grateful. Even when I faltered, when I was unworthy of your affection, you stood by me. When you learned of the lies I’ve told you, you still gave me the benefit of the doubt. Your unwavering loyalty and support has been both my solace and my shame. I cannot remain by your side any longer, not when I know that our suffering is a direct consequence of my failures. It was my fault that we had to leave our country, the place you called home and where your family was.

I know that time and time again, you’ve reassured me you don’t regret it. I know you wouldn’t have changed it for anything, that you have come to accept the reality of our life. I never doubted you, but I doubt myself. I always will. I could try my hardest to become someone good for you, someone worthy of you, and I fear that’s something I could never live up to you. Every time I look at you, I am reminded of who you are – someone who had always been too good for me. Someone who’d thrown away her life just so I wouldn’t be alone. Someone who’d betrayed her country and willingly followed me when I myself didn’t know where to go. You had always been perfect, always too loving, always putting others before yourself. You wouldn’t have chosen otherwise, which is why I decided to do make that choice for you instead.

I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye.

I had to leave while you were asleep, because I feared that if I stayed, I would change my mind and keep you in this play pretend of house. It wasn’t an easy decision, but I believe it was the only choice that will allow you to find peace and healing. I hope you will understand that I am doing this because I want the best for you, even if it means I must be gone from your life.

Please know that I love you enough that I’m willing to accept you’re going to keep hating me again from now on. My heart aches knowing that I’d left you alone in this strange place, but it was the only thing I could do. I know you miss your parents, and you miss how your life used to be. I couldn’t keep you apart from them any longer.

Don’t be scared of what may lie ahead. There isn’t much that I can do for you, but I’ve already arranged and secured your safe return to Inarizaki. Wakatoshi has reassured me of this, and sooner or later, you will be escorted to reunite with your parents. Tobio is waiting for you, too.

I hope that, in time, everything will make sense, and that you will find the happiness and freedom that you deserve. As you read this letter, I’m probably miles away already. Please do not come looking for me, because I may find it impossible to not keep you to myself a little longer.

Forever yours, in love and regret,

Rintaro

The letter trembled in your hands, each word becoming a blur as your tears began to fall.

The ink started to smudge and bleed, his neat handwriting dissolving into dark, spreading blotches. Your sobs wracked your body, each cry an echo of the betrayal and heartbreak that consumed you.

As the reality of his abandonment sank in, the air around you seemed to close in, heavy with the weight of his departure. You felt as though you were suffocating, the room closing in with the oppressive silence of his absence. The letter slipped from your hands, but you clutched it desperately as though it were a lifeline, the only connection left to the man who had left you behind.

In a frantic haze, you ignored his request to not come looking for him, a surge of determination driving you outside. Your feet were bare, and the cold ground met them with unforgiving harshness. The chill and roughness of the terrain did little to slow you down, and you pushed through, driven by a desperate need to find him. He couldn’t be that far, but then again, you couldn’t tell how long you’d been asleep for. Still, you ran, each step a mix of pain and desperation, the ground cutting into your feet until they were raw and bleeding. The physical pain was a distant second to unforgiving way your heart shattered into pieces, the vision of his face and the agony of his departure the only thing driving you forward.

Hours seemed to stretch endlessly as you searched, your hope dwindling with each passing minute.

Exhaustion began to overtake you, your legs heavy and your breaths labored. The landscape blurred around you, a twisted mirage of your torment. At the back of your head, you swore you could still see him – could still see his broad back watching the sunrise, could still feel his warm hands interlacing with yours through the morning fog. Even if he was no longer there.

Spent and broken, you collapsed onto the cold ground, clutching the letter tightly against your chest. Your bare feet, now wounded and battered, throbbed with pain, but the physical hurt was insignificant compared to the emptiness carved out in your heart.

Bone weary, you laid on the cold ground, tears mixing with the dirt, the letter your only solace. You held the wrinkled letter close to your chest, the only sound was the ragged whisper of your sobs, echoing into the forest where his presence used to be.

Hours passed you by.

You laid there, unmoving, the cold ground helping you numb your aching heart. Just as the forest seemed to blanket you within its freezing embrace, you heard the distant sound of footsteps. They grew closer, and you looked up, your heart pounding with a mix of dread and hope. You’d expected to see Rintaro, desperately hoping that he’d taken back his words and returned. That he never meant to leave, and he was here to stay. And then, as if conjured by your deepest longing and torment, he appeared – the very man who plagued your dreams, the one you had chosen to leave behind.

Kiyoomi.

The past two years had been kind to him, despite his grief. He stood a little taller, if not a little broader, too. But it was evident on his face, the misery that you were certain mirrored yours. His face that had been etched with a permanent frown darkened upon the sight of you – laid out in the floor caked in dirt, shivering in nothing but a nightgown and Rintaro’s letter clutched upon your chest. Wordlessly, he hurried to you. Crouching beside you, his movements were swift and sure, like having you in his arms was the most natural thing and he was simply reclaiming what was his. Gently, he lifted you into his arms, cradling you as though you were the most precious thing in the world. His coat, warm and familiar and still smelling like him, enveloped you, shielding you from the night’s gold.

And he still felt like home.

Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder. Just like that, the dam had broken – your sorrow flooded through, your cries erupted at the back of your throat, raw and unrestrained. Kiyoomi pulled you closer, his embrace tender yet firm, as he was afraid holding you tighter would further break you apart.

He placed gentle kisses on your forehead, rocking you back and forth as an attempt to soothe you. As you clung to him, the warmth of his body and the softness of his touch eased your trembling. His arms held you tightly, enveloping you in his embrace like a protective shield.

He felt like a sanctuary in the storm – warm and reassuring. You yearned to nestle against his chest, to bury your face in the comforting curve of his embrace, and hold on tightly while you let the storm pass. Only it never would, even if the storm had already done its damage and travelled a hundred miles away. Kiyoomi could never undo the damage it had left in its wake.

“It’s okay,” he murmured against your hair, and for once, you doubted how true his words would be. “I’m going to take you home now.”

#suna x reader #suna x you #suna rintaro x reader #rintaro suna x reader #suna rintaro x you #suna x reader angst #suna rintaro angst #suna rintarou #kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #suna x reader fluff #rintaro suna x reader fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader angst

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hidden-poet · 6 months ago

Text

Commander Snow: 10

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns, explicit, violence, death, sexual assault, child birth, Capitol bullies.

Editor: @hotline-to-hell

chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

chapter 9

Chapter 10

The bed you were asleep on felt like a cloud under you.

The bedding was fresh, and smelt slightly of lavender scented washing powder. It held a crispness that could only be given by drying in the sun.

Pillows surrounded you, giving you a sense of security while heavy blankets nearly pinned you to the mattress from their weight.

You slept easy despite your predicament. Only the morning sun, as it streamed through the airy curtains, woke you. Still, you don’t move. Too comfortable, and too tired to face the day.

Coriolanus was not next to you. The large bed was only occupied by yourself. You wondered how long he had been missing, and how much longer he would stay away.

You were in an entirely new world, only he was familiar. And even he had changed. He was President of Panem, not Commander of District 12. His hair was long, and his clothes were fashionable. He even held himself taller and talked slower.

Still, he was what you knew. Your lifeline in an alien world.

Would you change too? You supposed you had.

A District girl, now wife of the President. Soon the weight of the diamond on your hand would become unrecognizable. You would get used to the strange people here. Tigris and Grandma’am would become family and not Capitol enemies.

So quickly, your life was snatched from under you. Everything you have ever known has been replaced. Even the air felt different upon your skin. The people around you ate differently, talked differently, dressed differently. Would anything be left of you? Would you be able to keep anything of your home inside of you?

Your heart hurts to think of your mother and brother. Were you to trust Coriolanus when he said he had released them? He was likely to have had them

released and then shot outside of the gates. How could you ensure their safety? Would he let you call them? What would it cost you?

The quiet turning of the door knob broke your train of thought.

You wondered if it was a maid or Coriolanus but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn and look.

You didn’t want to face either one so you closed your eyes hoping that they would leave you.

Coriolanus did not. He gently shook your shoulder, and you rolled over from your fake sleep.

“Good morning,” he pushes back your hair, tucking it behind your ear, “Did you sleep okay?”

You brush his hand away. Your ring scratches the skin of his hand as you do.

“I have a doctor on standby. Are you in any pain?”

You sit up and surprisingly find very little pain. More tightness from a muscle that had never been used before. You were quite wet already, and he was slow. Allowing you time to adjust.

“I feel fine,” you respond, “What time is it?”

“It’s early. I’m sorry. The sign-in is at noon, so you need to start getting dressed. Just like yesterday, some women are going to come in and help you.”

“The same women?” You hoped not. They were so Capitol. You felt repulsed at the thought of sharing a room with them again.

“I don’t know. Was there a problem with them yesterday?” His Commander's face was put on. A displeased stone expression that made you feel like a scolded child.

“No.” You deny. Your eyes go to your ring that sprays out a pale rainbow from the sunlight.

He pulls your attention back to him with a hold on your chin.

“You’re my wife. First Lady of Panem.”

Him calling you wife made your heart curdle.

“You hold the power over them. If there’s an issue you need to tell me.”

“There was no issue,” you insist.

He doesn’t push you on it.

“They will be here soon. Come outside for breakfast.”

He gives your arm a tap before rising from the bed to retrieve a warm dressing gown from the closet.

It was soft around your body and brought a surprising amount of warmth.

The journey to the dining room table was simple. Just past a long hallway, it opened into the living room, where to the right an elevated platform formed the dining area.

The Snow women were not dressed as casually as you were. Fine dresses and jewels were worn for breakfast.

You looked to Coriolanus to see he was also dressed fashionably and felt embarrassed that he had brought you out in last night's worn make-up and a dressing gown.

The women seemed unbothered to see you.

“Good morning, Y/N.” Tigris greeted you.

“Good morning.” You offer back.

Coriolanus holds out a chair for you amongst the 12 available.

“Did you have a good time last night?” she asks.

You looked at her and saw no vindictiveness in her eyes. It was a genuine question, offered to make you feel at ease.

It was, in fact, the worst night of your life. But you were a stranger at her table, you would not repay her kindness with scorn.

“Yes,” you say instead, “Did you?”

Tigris nods her head, as she pours out coffee from a pot into the small white tea cups.

“Bet you never saw anything like that in the Districts.” Grandma’am quipped.

You weren’t sure if she intended for her comment to be a way of reminding you of your place, or as an encouragement to how great the Capitol could be.

“No, I haven’t.” You agree.

There was food displayed on the table, across a long white cover. Coriolanus picked food from and dropped it onto the gold plate in front of you.

You had no appetite. It was all so ghastly rich. There was no need for this amount of excess.

Coriolanus did not share your off-put. He ate his plate, while you examined the strange contents of yours.

Grandma’am doted on her grandson. Telling stories of his younger years. He always had leadership skills, she said. His presidential future was never in any doubt.

“Even when-” Grandma’am stopped herself, suddenly looking at and pushing her food around on the plate.

You were eager to hear what she had to say. Even when he was sent to be a Peacekeeper? Even when he got involved with Lucy Gray? Was there something else that Coriolanus has kept hidden?

“If only your father could see you now,” she redirects, “Oh he would be so proud.”

“We’re so proud,” Tigris states. Trying to defuse the somber mood.

Coriolanus smiles at Tigris under her praise.

“And you?” he asks, turning to you.

You nod your head, unsure on what he wanted to hear.

“Congratulations, President Snow.” You offer.

“It sounds right, doesn’t it?” Grandma’am squeals.

You wait until the rest of the company has finished their breakfast between idle chatter.

Coriolanus was on his second cup of coffee. His arm slung over the back of your chair, as he sits casually, talking to Tigris.

He leans down to your ear, the second Tigris is occupied with Grandma’am.

“Can you eat something, please? The stylists will be here soon,” he whispers.

His casual demeanor returns as Tigris’s attention does.

You follow his request, taking a bite of some sort of breakfast biscuit. It was fresh, and soft, even stone-cold. You could taste the butter in it. Real butter, not the imitation type found in the Districts.

“I am going to miss you,” Tigris sighed.

“We’re not staying here?” You turn to Coriolanus who had just taken another sip of his drink.

Your stomach fills with knots thinking about a new place. You didn’t want to move.

He swallows quickly, trying to answer you before anyone else.

“No. We’re going to the presidential estate, but we’ll come back and visit. And you're both always welcomed at the Presidential Palace.”

You jump as a ringing sound breaks through the air, looking around to try and see the small bell hidden in the room.

Coriolanus’s hand comes from the back of your chair to the back of your neck. “It’s okay,” he soothes.

He reaches for a panel of buttons built into the table and holds one in.

“Yes?” He answers the call.

“Mr. President, the PR team is here,” a voice spoke back.

“Send them up.” His hand returns from you, back to the chair.

“You don’t have long. Try to have another bite,” he commands.

You finish the breakfast biscuit by the time the two Peacekeepers escort a whole team of people up to the penthouse. It sat heavy in your stomach.

You see the same two women in the group. They stand side by side in ridiculous outfits. The one who had burnt you with a curling iron had a spiky, purple hat that reached tall into the sky.

Two racks of clothing, and four big black boxes on wheels, were carted behind them.

Coriolanus walks to the living room to greet them. They all congratulate him on his win, which he brushes off quickly to talk to the head stylist about the plan for today. They mutter between themselves, and the stylist shows Coriolanus a large book, pointing to the pictures. Coriolanus points down the hall, explaining the layout of the apartment.

The book shuts with a heavy snap, and the stylist turns to his workers directing them to their places.

The team split up behind Coriolanus, as he walked back over to you.

“You’ll go back to the bedroom. I’ll use one of the spares. If there are any problems, you come and find me.” He tells you.

You nod in response, noting that three other women follow the two women from yesterday down the hall.

Coriolanus says goodbye to Grandma’am and Tigris, before leading you back to the bedroom where he lets you go without a word. As he closes the door behind you, the women in the room snap their attention to you.

They all begin talking to you. Not one voice is heard but hands are felt all around you as they pull you into the bathroom.

They bicker amongst themselves on what needs to be done first. You had many faults that needed to be fixed before the signing. Your skin wasn’t tight or dewy enough. You needed a facial, and eyelash lift. Your chipped nails were disgusting. Your hair was dull and lifeless.

You feel vulnerable as hands dig harshly into your clothing, pulling it off your body. As you push hands away, more hands take their place. They call you difficult as you beg them to allow you to do it yourself.

The shower is turned on too hot, you could feel the heat of it standing five feet away.

Stripped, you notice the mess of semen still between your legs. Others notice it too and begin to giggle to themselves. Coriolanus had run a wet towel over you so you could sleep comfortably, but it wasn’t enough.

The shower was boiling as you were pushed under it. Your skin instantly turned red. The women themselves didn’t want to get wet, standing outside of the shower screen, and pulling you by your hair to bring you closer.

One lathers a strong-smelling liquid into your hair without much care, while another scrubs a hard brush against your skin to rid the old skin.

It hurt as it raked across your body without soap. The woman's rings got caught in your hair as she scrubbed your head, it yanked as she pulled back.

With a cry of pain, you are pushed back under the stream of hot water.

You think about running to find Coriolanus, but they are here now. Another team would not be sent. He would only reprimand them, and then you would be left alone with their wrath.

You sob instead. You should be at home. It was Wednesday. You were pretty sure. You should be at work, making idle chatter with your co-workers.

“Wash it out!” The woman commands, “We don’t have much time.”

Trying to appease her, you do a quick rinse under the water.

“All of it,” she sighs.

‘'The water’s too hot,’’ you cry. You felt like a cornered animal.

She looks at her co-workers annoyed. “Turn the water down,” she commands.

The water is turned ice-cold but you make no further complaint.

Another round of the strong-smelling liquid is harshly rubbed into your hair, and a nice-smelling lotion is rubbed into your skin.

The cold water makes you shiver as you stand under it, trying to wash everything off you.

The water is turned off leaving you standing shivering in the shower.

“Come on” the women demanded, “hurry”.

You go to her, and she throws a towel at you. It helps to dry the cold water off you, bringing back a little warmth.

They watch you as you dry yourself making you feel self conscious. The attempt to cover yourself with the towel is ripped from you, and thrown to the floor. You are once again being pushed instead of asked to do something.

You were laid flat on a table they had brought. Bare under their eye. Nothing was given so you could cover yourself.

Five women stand above you and begin work.

You close your eyes trying to dissociate from everything. A mask is put on your face, leaving space around your eyebrows so they can be waxed. Another oil is put on your hair and skin.

You could hear the buzzing of the laser and feel its zap as it took the hair off your body. She scaled the length of you with the laser, paying extra attention to your most private parts.

Only a reprimand was spoken to you as tears ran down your face. You were wasting the product with your tears.

For a long time, you laid still against the table as they worked. Your body became sore and stiff before they told you to get up and into the bedroom.

It was there you were given back your dressing gown and placed in front of a vanity.

The women talk amongst themselves as they work. Not one of them asks you anything. You tune them out, thinking about home.

It felt overstimulating to have so many people working on you at once. Someone cut your hair, while the other women took one hand or one leg. They massage more oil into your skin, before shaping and painting your nails. Your ring is given a shine, and they speak about how beautiful it was.

You feel their jealousy as they work. Your fingers were twisted into unnatural positions as they were filed. Your hair was pulled ruthlessly as it was cut. One woman stepped on your toes as she rose from the floor for some polish.

In your head, you were at home, baking for your market stall. Your mother would keep you company in the kitchen, reading a letter from your brother. He had found someone. A nice girl, who treats him well. He wasn’t lonely anymore and had plenty to eat. Edmund was alive, and you would see him when he finished work. He would be joyed at the news that his best friend found a girl, and after dinner that night you would sit with him and draft a letter explaining your new relationship.

It was a surprise when they all stopped to address the President.

You turn to see Coriolanus standing in the doorway with a large mug in his hands. He had been taken from his clothes this morning and undressed into a white singlet. He had no shoes on his feet, and his dress pants still had pins in them from the tailoring.

“It’s time for a break,” he announced. His hair appeared to be cut back, and slightly curled more. His skin glowed with treatment.

You had never been thankful to see him until that moment. A tear slipped from your eye and you quickly wiped it away.

“Sir, we still have lots to do,” one of the stylists said.

“Leave the room,” he commanded.

Tools are dropped as they follow his request.

The five women pass him through the door, and he kicks it closed as the last one leaves.

You get up from the vanities chair with a headache from all the pulling.

“I came to check on you. Are you okay?” he says.

The tea in his hands was a welcomed surprise. The hot shower had dehydrated you, and your crying left your throat scratchy. You take it from him and take three large gulps.

He takes your waist into his hands once they are free from the cup.

“Yeah,” you lie. Your voice was quiet and broken from having not spoken for a long period of time.

The tea was hot, burning your throat as you drank it, but it was good. You broke away from his hold, going to sit on the ottoman by the bed. He followed you as you sat.

Certain parts of your head felt like they were burning from the harsh treatment, You reached up to soothe the sore spots. Coriolanus’s hands follow yours. You knock them away, wanting nothing more than not to be touched.

He moves onto the bed behind you, sitting with either leg by your sides. His strong fingers reach into your hair and massage your scalp. It felt nice as his fingers dug into your head so you allowed him to do it.

You lean back into him, the hot cup burning your lap.

“Do you want to tell me something?” he gently asks.

His fingers press into a very sore spot on your head, causing you to wince and pull forward out of his hold.

He doesn’t let you sit up, pulling you back by your shoulders into him. His fingers go back to your hair once more, but he rakes his nails through your hair instead of pushing in.

He rakes his nails in a continuous backward motion, soothingly as he talks.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. That shouldn’t have hurt.”

A gentle kiss is placed against your ear.

“Are you alright? Do you want me to stay? I’ll stay.” He offers.

You think about it. The women would surely be kinder with Coriolanus in the room. But you didn’t want to admit you needed him. Worse, you didn’t want to feel indebted to him. After all, it was because of him you were going through this.

You get up from him once more, and he allows you to create distance as you go back to the vanity set.

“Leave me alone, Coriolanus,” you demanded.

You wipe the tears harshly away from your face, and he sits there watching you.

A gentle knock is heard at the door. Coriolanus rises to answer it.

“Come in,” he orders.

The women single file in, past him. Only he stops the women who had been barking orders at everyone all day.

You watch him in the mirror as he brings his hand down across her face.

A gasp leaves your lips as you watch her fall to the ground from the force.

“I entrusted her to you. If you make me regret it, I’ll make you regret it,” he warns, staring down at her with eyes that spoke of his anger.

He steps over her and back to his room.

“What did you say?” the woman in the purple hat hisses at you.

“Nothing,” you admit, “I said nothing. I promise.”

The woman who was hit gathers herself from the floor, coming over to you and pinching the skin on your arm between her long, fake nails.

“Well say less.” she rasped.

“It wasn’t my fault. He’s like that,” you contend, rubbing the skin she had pinched.

“Maybe to District scum, but not to us.”

“Your red cheek would suggest otherwise,” you sass.

It earns you a harsh tug on your hair as it is yanked to one side.

“Just do as you are told and face forward,” she spat.

She spins you by your hair towards the mirror. No more tears fall from your eyes, but a satisfied smirk stretches across your lips. The moment had made you feel powerful.

While their nail files dug into your skin, and your hair was gripped too tightly just to be cut, they no longer spoke. Coriolanus had scared them into silence.

A few moments later he reappears with his own styling crew as they struggle to bring everything they need into the room.

He sets up next to you, and under the watchful eye of Coriolanus, your stylists turn gentle. With your body done, they move to your hair and make-up.

The large room is crowded with all the people and equipment. The head stylist tries to persuade Coriolanus back to his own room, but he would hear none of it.

As your hair is curled and pinned into a loose bun, the iron used slipped slightly from her hands as she pinned. It burnt behind your ear, causing you to jump from the hot touch, but no sound escaped you.

Coriolanus noticed anyway.

“Be careful. Watch what you are doing”, he reprimanded.

“Yes, President Snow” the woman apologizes.

With a spray all over your hair, the woman steps back to admire her work.

“Alright. We are fifteen minutes behind schedule. We need to get her in her dress”, the woman with the red cheek called out.

Coriolanus was done. Only one stylist was there with him, shining his shoes.

They lead you to the bathroom with a dress bag.

As soon as the door was closed, one of the stylists who had remained quiet all morning began to speak.

“Yes, President Snow,” she mocked.

“Shut up,” the hair stylist barked.

The dress was pulled from the bag without a wrinkle.

It was a sweetheart, white satin, strapless gown. The bodice had pearls strung along it, and it curved up in the middle into a line of pearls.

It was matched with a pair of white heels with pearl straps and a jacket of the same material that was only meant to go around your shoulders and not to be worn, you learned.

The shoulders of the jacket clipped into the dress so it didn’t move.

“There,” the head woman snapped, “You’re done.”

You quickly rushed from her presence, back out to the bedroom where Coriolanus stood alone.

You turn back as you walk to him, expecting the woman to come from the bathroom. But they never do.

He takes you into his arms, gaining your attention from the door

“You look beautiful,” he comments.

He did too, but you wouldn’t admit it. He wore black instead of white, but his shirt and pocket square matched the material of your dress.

“Thank you,” you reply.

A slight squeak of the bathroom door had you pulling back. You would hate for them to see you so cozy in his arms. But the door never opens.

Coriolanus pulls you tight against him again, leaning down to whisper something to you.

“Do you want me to have them killed?” He asks.

“No,” you say, astonished that he could think of no other solution.

“It’s up to you,” he states, “Come on. We are late.”

He leads you back to the living room where Tigris and Grandma’am stood waiting amongst the stylists packing up.

“Give us time to settle in before you come to visit,” Coriolanus spoke to his family. He leans his tall frame down to kiss each of them.

“Of course,” Tigris answered. After she had kissed him, she moved over to you. Wrapping her arms around your shoulder, and placing a kiss on the corner of your head.

“We’ll see each other again soon,” she promises.

You smile back at her before she is replaced with Grandma’am. The older woman's hug is shorter and less affectionate.

With a final goodbye, you follow Coriolanus and a series of Peacekeepers to the elevator and down to the car park.

A sleek black car was waiting. A driver held out the back door, and Coriolanus placed you in the car first.

The Peacekeepers piled into a large truck. Only one sat in the front of your car with the driver.

The divider was raised so you couldn’t see them, but you could have sworn you had seen the Peacekeeper before. You wondered if Coriolanus had brought back men from District 12.

The car ride passed through the city. You had never seen such buzz. Colors and colors flew past you. Buildings that reached the sky gleamed. Tall statues were littered across the drive. You counted seven, and a possible eighth that flew past too fast to see more than a gray figure.

You wanted to put the window down for a better view as the tint from the window dulled some of the colors. But Coriolanus denied your request. The wind would undo the work done on your hair, and it was important that you arrived looking your best. He had promised to take you out again later with the windows down.

When you arrived at the presidential estate, it was surrounded by supporters of Coriolanus holding banners and sticks with a picture of Coriolanus’s face attached. They waited outside of the tall gates guarded by peacekeepers.

As the car passed them, screams and cheers deafened you.

It got worse when you entered the gates, the screaming was matched with flashes of white light.

Coriolanus was unbothered by it all. His focus is all on the approaching building in front of him.

The building was grand, surrounded by meticulously kept gardens. Large Panem flags hung on flag poles on either side of the staircase that led to the entrance. A line of staff stands at the top of the staircase. All of them were dressed in expensive white material that formed around their bodies in a long coat, and pants. Gold detailing was added to the stitches and a gold pin fashioned into the Panem symbol was pinned across their chest to keep their jacket closed.

Even the servants dressed nicer than the high society of District 12. They looked better fed too.

The car stopped as close as it could to the stairs and Coriolanus turned to you, taking your hand in his.

“Stay close to me. People are excited and that can cause them to act mindless.”

The door is opened by a Peacekeeper and Coriolanus leads you along the slim path through the sea of people.

People reach out to touch him, yelling out to gain his attention. But his mind stayed focused on the approaching building. A look of smug satisfaction and determination played across his features. You must have looked terrified as you followed him.

These people looked like animals. They frenzied around you with only a few Peacekeepers to keep them in check.

You stay as close as you can to Coriolanus, taking the back of his shirt into your spare hand.

The path ends as it comes to the bottom of the step. Coriolanus reaches his hand back to release you from his shirt, bringing you to stand by him as you climb the steps.

One woman in an all-black ensemble stood out in front of the line of staff. She greeted Coriolanus as he reached her on the steps.

“President Snow, an honor to serve you as your head of staff.”

She reached out her right hand but his right hand was latched around yours. He was hesitant to let it go.

She pauses when he doesn’t react but quickly switches out hands which Coriolanus accepts in a handshake.

Upon realizing your importance to him, she turns to you in a curtsy.

“And you, Mistress.”

The crowd cheers once more for President Snow. White roses are thrown from the crowd, falling on the road and upon the bottom of the stairs.

Peacekeepers push back against the crowd. Things were not to be thrown at the President.

“A pleasure. Perhaps we should get inside before the crowd decides to see how close they can get.” Coriolanus suggests.

The woman steps back, nodding her head quickly and too many times.

“Of course. If you would follow me, I will take you to the signing.”

The rest of the staff remain on the steps as you and Coriolanus follow the woman.

The loudness of the crowd was shut out from the big, heavy doors. It offered you two seconds of relief before taking in the vastness of the house.

The floors were polished and matched the furniture. A big lush thick carpet was laid out to add some warmth to the room. It was dark red and had cream accents that splayed out in intricate designs. The entryway must have been 50 feet in width and length but the red carpet covered nearly all of it.

Both you and Coriolanus looked around in wonder. Only Coriolanus was better at hiding his amazement. He acted indifferent as the women explained the history of the house. But you could see his eyes linger on the expensive and well-decorated decor of the house.

Staircases were everywhere, leading up and down in all different forms of design. The house was too big. It would be easy for a person to get lost but the woman led you without stumbling.

You wonder about her. How long had she been here? Was it a choice to serve the house?

She didn’t seem scared or upset. There were no marks upon her cream skin suggesting a lifetime of servitude. She wore make-up, and her thick, black hair was styled fashionably. But looks could be deceiving in the Capitol.

They liked to hide behind their fine things and sharp appearances.

She leads you into a large office. The original flag of Panem hung framed behind a large desk. The dirt and blood that had gathered on it during the war blotted the bright colors.

Only five reporters were allowed into the room, amongst a few other important people. They all greeted Coriolanus with a firm handshake. Only one reporter was female, and she towered over the men, assisted by her six-inch heels. She looks at your ring, and you notice an absence of one on hers.

She was too smart to get trapped by the Capitol men.

Coriolanus thanked them for being here with his dazzling smile while you stood behind him mute, and useless.

The women who brought you in interrupted the polite conversation between the group.

“President Snow, it is custom to sit in the chair while signing,” she directed.

“Yes,” Coriolanus obliged, leading you behind the large oak desk.

You tug your hand from him as he sits. They wanted him, not you.

A dark green plush couch with colorful cushions called out to you. You needed to sit as your legs felt like jelly.

“President Snow, did you want the picture with or without your First Lady?” The woman reporter asked as she readied her camera.

“With.” Coriolanus beckoned you closer but your legs would not cooperate.

You stood until the head of staff pushed you forward.

“Alright, dear, you stand behind your husband and don’t forget to smile. Big smile!” She commands.

You are thankful that her hands moved you into position. The referral to Coriolanus as your husband froze you. She told you once more to smile which activated your lips into a thin smile.

“Okay, Mr. President when you’re ready,” one of the male reporters called.

The cameras flash blinding you as Coriolanus signs his name on the parchment.

His signature is a series of neat loops finished by a long line that curled underneath his name.

It was official. Coriolanus Snow would now rule over Panem. With the hopes that it was over, you go to move back out of the camera frames but it only caught the attention of the journalists.

“Mrs. Snow, how about a kiss for the President?” One of the reporters called out. The comment frenzied the rest who shouted out encouragements.

Coriolanus turns out to you in his chair, permitting you to follow the command.

So you do. Bending down to his height and placing a kiss on his lips. He steadies you with a hand on the side of your face so that the kiss deepens.

The cameras liked that. You pull away, but Coriolanus' hand keeps you in place.

His thumb brushes against the lipstick that had smudged getting rid of it before wiping his hand over his mouth.

A make-up artist comes over to him, helping him to rid the lipstick off his face and reapplying power from a compact.

“Okay, can we get a shot of just the President staring down the lens with the flag in the background?” The woman once more directs.

You move quickly out of the way as the journalists kneel on the floor for the shot, and point their cameras up.

You find comfort on the couch and watch as Coriolanus is directed for the magazine shots.

When he is not directed to stare into a camera his eyes are on you, making sure that you are still in the room.

A deep regret sets on your posed photos. You should have said no. Coriolanus would be too cautious to correct you in front of what constituted the entirety of Panem. You could have gotten away with it. Now your family was sure to see the photos of you happily smiling behind him. Kissing him, with a diamond ring on your finger.

What would Edmund's family think? Your own family would think of you as a traitor. What would the family who lost everything due to you think? Edmund was keeping them afloat. How would they get by now? Would your brother take care of them as Edmund took care of his family? Would they accept the help of a traitor's brother?

Coriolanus stands from the desk in front of the reporters.

“As you can imagine, yesterday was a long day. If you are satisfied with the photos I would like to settle in with my new wife.”

“Of course, Mr. President,” was the resounding response.

He comes to collect you on the couch as the head of staff briefs the people in the room on what is to happen now.

“No one is to leave this room. Peacekeepers will come and escort you out. You and your equipment will be searched before you are released back to your firm. The President thanks you for your time and service to your country.”

Coriolanus brings your arm to loop through his as you follow the woman back out into the vast space of the house.

She takes you up a large, twin staircase back at the main entrance of the house, and along a corridor lined with a long carpet. At the very end came a double-door entrance that stretched from the very bottom, all the way to the top.

This was the President's quarters. She unlocks the door with a key that was passed to Coriolanus, and swings open the doors so you can see the space.

Another enormous space was filled with plush rugs and expensive furniture. Back home a house consisted of the bare necessities. In the Capitol, they had space for every activity and filled it with unnecessary furniture.

A breakfast nook, a long dinner table, a sitting area, a living room, a walk-in coat closet, two full bathrooms, a tall wine fridge, and a set-up bar were all contained within the floor. A staircase that led up suggested that there was more to the living space.

The woman asks if she can do anymore, but Coriolanus assures her there is nothing to be done but rest now.

She shows Coriolanus a button he could push to call for a servant before bidding him goodbye.

He was quick to shut the door behind her as you wandered into the apartment.

“What do you think?” He asks.

“People live like this?” You run a hand over a soft blanket draped over the couch.

“I never have,” he admits.

From a war-ruined boy, to a Peacekeeper, to Commander of District 12, Coriolanus lived far from the luxury of the Capitol.

He got nights of Capitol living when he came to visit from District 12 but his home had always been rat-infested slums.

“It’ll feel more like home when you settle in, and make it your own.”

“It’ll never feel like home,” you remark snidely.

Coriolanus picks up a small decorative statue and examines it.

“Well not your home back in District 12, but your home in the Capitol.”

He places the statue back down and holds out his hand for you to take.

“Shall we see upstairs?”

Upstairs was as impressive as down. Six spare bedrooms each with their own bathrooms and ready for guests, a sizable private study that conjoined to a lavish sleeping arrangement.

You open the doors to your closet to find that it already had been filled with clothing. A pair of comfortable-looking pants and a singlet call out to you, and you ask Coriolanus if you could change.

He gives you permission, telling you that he was going to look around the estate but he would be back soon.

The bathroom had heated tiles which helped to keep you warm as you tried to figure out the shower. There was a pad with buttons that had too many commands to work.

You finally figure it out with pure luck and a heavy stream of water shoots out from the shower head.

You shower off the make-up and hair spray. Some glitter that had been dusted on your skin had to be scrubbed off which left you red, and pruny from the time it took.

Another battle to turn off the water, before you could reach for a white fluffy towel off the rack. It was warm too from the heated rack.

With Coriolanus gone, you explored the room. Everything was set up as if you already lived here.

You find a book about the history of Panem in the bookcase and flick through it. It talked about the Dark Days. How District people were dangerous and out to ruin Capitol life.

Large black and white pictures taken during the war were displayed in large form across the page. The Capitol during the war looked like District 12 now.

The next page showed a photo of rebels being lined up to be shot. The page after that had a photo of a man. A general during the war. The name shocked you.

General Crassus Snow. He looked a little like Coriolanus. Same blonde hair and blue eyes, but without the name, you wouldn’t have known.

A hero they called him. It turned out Coriolanus wasn’t lying to you when he said his father was killed in 12. You wondered how that must have felt for him, to go back there and rule over the place that left him fatherless.

A little blurb read that Crassus Snow was known to have an excellent head for strategy and nerves of steel. With a commanding presence that rose him quickly through the military ranks before he was cowardly killed in an ambush.

Coriolanus had followed in his father’s footsteps. The page could have been Coriolanus' autobiography.

Your fingers trace the photo of the man standing tall in his uniform. If he was alive, you doubt he would have let Coriolanus get involved with you. But he wasn’t, and you were here, trapped in the Capitol, while he was buried somewhere in District 12.

You continue with the book, scoffing as they skew history to fit their narrative. War was never one-sided.

You hear him as he enters the study. The door was heavy and loud.

Expecting him to appear, you continue flipping through the pages of the book.

But time passes with no appearance.

You finish the book and go to find out what he is doing.

Taking the side door, you could see his back as it faced a large painting on the far wall. You knew from school that the picture was of the past President Ravenstill.

He gazes at the portrait with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Coriolanus?” You call. It breaks his concentration, and he unhooks himself from his rigid posture to extend his hand out to you. But he never faces away from the painting.

You rush to accept his hand, looking up at the painting with him. There was nothing special about it. An oil painting that depicted a hateful man in a powerful position.

But something about it captivates Coriolanus.

“Are you alright?” you ask. His broody eyes normally meant bad things for you.

“You see this?” He bends his forehead to your level and points to a faint scar on the top corner of his head.

“During the war, I went looking for scraps around the Presidential palace. I found a great big bucket full of half-eaten bones with meat still on them just sitting there over the fence, so I reached my hand in to try and get one. I was found by a Peacekeeper who informed me that the President said they were for his dogs and left me with a scar from the butt of his rifle.”

He looks away from you and back to the painting. You were grateful for it. There was a darkness in his eyes that scared you.

“Now I am the man in the palace,” he mutters.

“I am sorry that happened to you.”

He smiles at your words. Pity was something he wanted from no one but you.

“You can do a lot of good, Coriolanus,” you temper with a squeeze to his hand.

He nods his head in agreement, “I will. The Capitol will flourish under me.”

“You could do good in the Districts too. You saw the disadvantages there.”

His grip around your hand tightened, and his jaw locked in place. The painting was no longer of any interest. You now bore his intense stare.

“I saw a bunch of animals clawing at each other to get ahead. You should be thankful that I saved you.”

“Saved me?” You questioned.

He had not saved you from a burning building but taken you from your bed at night.

“It wouldn’t have been long before the animals tore into you.”

The hold on your hand loosens and he takes a step back from you.

“I’ll ring down for lunch.” He disappears from the room, leaving you in front of the painting. That night it was replaced with one of Coriolanus. The painting of him was still wet but hung proudly in the room.

The next morning after a luxurious breakfast you went straight back to bed and stayed there until Coriolanus returned home.

You had no idea if he locked the door on his way out, you never checked. There was nothing out there for you. No family or friends to shield you in their arms. No familiar faces, or sense of community.

Tigris and Grandma’am visited on the weekend, wanting to be shown around. But you only knew the bed, and Coriolanus spent too many hours at the official office downstairs to know the little details of the apartment. The head of staff was called again to show the group around the property. It took nearly half an hour to explore the place.

Grandma’am was too old to do that much walking but she wouldn’t slow down. She had dreamt about this day, longer than Coriolanus had. She held on to him as he assisted her in walking, and you held her handbag.

They stayed for coffee and cake which delighted Coriolanus. You spoke very little, even as Tigris tried to coax a conversation out of you. The crushing weight of defeat was hindering your ability to be social.

When they left, you got an earful from Coriolanus, who was disappointed in your behavior. All was forgiven, however, when the lights turned off and you were alone in bed with him.

The staff thought it was odd when you insisted that you would do the cleaning and cooking for yourself and Coriolanus. He took great pride in it. Feeling as if it was a testimony of your love. But in truth, your days were so much longer without it.

Sometimes there were visitors from the Academy or acquaintances from high society. Grandma’am and Tigris came over consistently but most of the time you were left completely alone.

For a brief period, while the facilities for you to cook and clean were installed, you lived back in the Snow Penthouse.

You enjoyed other company besides Coriolanus. One night after he was finished with you, you asked him if home could be here instead of the Presidential Palace.

He gave a laundry list of reasons as to why that wouldn’t be possible. The Presidential Palace was safer. It was the place where the President and the First Lady were supposed to live. Besides he didn’t want Tigris, and Grandma’am around while he adjusted to married life. You knew it all boiled down to the fact he simply didn’t want to.

—------------------

The night you return to the Presidential Palace, he comes to bed with a stack of papers.

“Look,” he leans closer to you, holding out a bit of paper that you couldn’t read under the sporadic flashes of light from the Tv.

“My first official act as President. Schools will now provide breakfast and lunch free of charge for every school student.”

“I thought children in the Capitol never had to worry about food”.

“Some do,” he responds, “There are poorer and richer classes in the Capitol too. Not to the extent of the Districts, but we have our own troubles in the Capitol.”

The Capitol people, no matter how poor, were not treated like animals, and terrorized by a militant group. They were still Capitol, and thus worthy of respect.

“And university is free for those in the top 10% of their cohort. I’ll make the announcement first thing tomorrow morning.”

“That’s wonderful” you praise, although you cared little for the new change.

He felt as if the bill would rewind the clock. Damn the Hunger Games, and the Plinth Prize. If he could bury the mistakes of his past, they never happened.

—----------------

Coriolanus grew desperate for a baby after his first month of presidency. He wished he had gotten you pregnant back in District 12 so he could have a baby halfway through his first term. But he didn’t dwell on the past when he could focus on the future.

He tried desperately every night to put a baby in you, but nothing stuck.

He grew worried that time in the Districts had made you barren. After a very uncomfortable examination by a doctor who assured him that you were able to bear children, but simply have not.

The thought of children made you feel sick. You had no idea how you would manage it on top of everything. You did not want his children, but how could you stop him? He was the one who decided your future.

Every morning he would wait outside of the bathroom door for you to do a test. You would bring a negative result back, and his face would sag.

His frustration was rough in form. Since election night, fun was the only objective for Coriolanus. But as his want for a child grew, teasing and pleasing you were secondary to his need. Again and again, in the same night, he would manhandle you in positions he thought were best. They left him with a sore wife and no baby to show for it.

A doctor had suggested that extreme stress can disrupt the ovulation cycle making it difficult to plan strategic timing of sex. This had annoyed Coriolanus greatly. You went on only a few official obligations in which you stayed by Coriolanus. You were fed, clothed, and rested. There was no extreme stress in your life that would hinder you from his baby.

You verbally agreed with his rant but laughed in private at his delusional hissy fit.

Every night when he was finished, he would sleep thinking tomorrow he would wake with good news.

One day he did. He was getting ready to go down to the office, waiting for you to present him with the test.

You expect the same as before, but as you expect the test, you notice an instant difference.

Scrambling for the box, you check the instructions. A cold shot through you as you looked back to see the indication of pregnancy.

In hope you take another one.

Coriolanus knocks on the door, telling you he has to leave soon.

You don’t care, you stare at the test waiting for a negative result.

It appeared the same as the other.

Coriolanus calls out again. On auto-pilot, you unlock the door and show him the test. He knew from your expression that it was positive but he looks anyway.

He kisses you deeply, but you can’t move against him. You were going to be a mother. Die nursing Coriolanus’s babies.

“A baby,” he says joyously. He brings his hand to your stomach and smiles, “A Snow.”

He ushers you back into bed, and calls for a maid to come tend to you while he is at work. All day you only move to throw up once.

The maid annoys you all day by asking you to do things. You just wanted to cry in bed without an audience.

As soon as the news was announced, floods of gifts came piling into the apartment. Designer clothes, a gold crib, flowers, and chocolate were sent for you. You threw them all out.

Every day you spend organizing and putting away presents only for more to come.

If you had thought your life was miserable before pregnancy, your life was unbearable while you were pregnant. Coriolanus was anxious about losing the baby.

The whole nine months at breakfast each morning a doctor checked for any complications. It made it difficult to eat which frustrated you as you woke every morning with great hunger. Only to throw it up again by mid-morning.

You were young and healthy so the pregnancy was low risk. Due to the rations in the Districts, your iron was low, but with your meals now being made by qualified chefs and nutritionists it quickly came back up to an acceptable level.

Coriolanus insisted that everything was a risk. Cooking over a hot stove, or bending to clean. You came to work with him like you did at the Compound. It was then you realized that he was more worried about you self-sabotaging the pregnancy than he was about the chemicals in cleaning products.

You grew big and uncomfortable. With the hormones raging in your body you would cry randomly during the day. One time when Tigris came to drop off the baby clothes she had made you, Coriolanus insisted she stayed for tea in the garden.

It was a beautiful day, and you had company other than Coriolanus. It was one of your better days. But upon seeing a dead baby bird at the edge of the garden, you began to cry uncontrollably.

You resisted Coriolanus' hold as he shouted for the bird to be taken away. The scene greatly shocked Tigres who quickly left when Coriolanus returned you to your room.

In addition to the mood swings, your baby kicked all day long giving you little rest. It took a toll on your appearance, leaving you looking half-dead.

Everywhere you turned someone was handing you a pillow and a blanket or offering you food. You felt like the main attraction at a circus. The only good thing about the pregnancy was that no meant no.

Coriolanus was far more respectful of your boundaries. All you had to put up with was his interactions with his unborn child. He liked to speak to it in your stomach and feel it kick. On daily walks for the baby's health, he would hold the bump as he accompanied you around the grounds. He was excited to be a father but you were terrified of being a mother in an entirely different world than your own.

Both you and Coriolanus attended parenting classes to help with the transition. Even raising babies was different in the Capitol. Mothers were not supposed to leave the house for 40 days after the birth. District women went back to work before the week was out.

The teachers talked about safe sleeping practices in a cot, District babies slept in a basket cushioned with rags.

Special food was designed for every stage of toddler life here. Babies back home ate what was available.

The classes made you grateful that your child was Capitol. At least you could give them a happy, comfortable life.

Coriolanus would ensure the best for his child that you were sure of.

—--------

Nine months passed quickly. One early morning you woke up in a great deal of pain. Coriolanus was still asleep next to you. You knew the baby was ready to come, but you were not ready for the baby.

You try to delay the baby. The midwife said you had another week.

A hot bath stops the pain for a little while, but the sound of running water wakes Coriolanus. You’re in the bath for thirty minutes before he rises from bed to join you.

He doesn’t knock as he enters. There was a time when you would have tried to cover up, but those days were long gone.

Coriolanus kneels by the bathtub and places a hand on your rounded stomach.

“Kicking, is he?” Coriolanus asks.

“Yeah. Something like that,” you state.

“He’s just excited to be here next week.”

As if it was a call to action, your stomach begins to contract painfully tight. You wince, trying hard to keep a sound from coming out.

“Are you alright?” He asks with concern.

“Yes. Can you help me out of the tub?”

The plug is pulled by twisting a round knob to your left, and the water drains quickly.

He helps you out of the tub gently, wrapping you in a towel and helping you walk to your wardrobe.

All of your pregnancy clothes were loose dresses that fell down to your ankles. You picked a light blue one but as the fabric fell around your body, your stomach gave a harsh twist. It felt as if your stomach muscles were being pulled from your stomach.

You feel Coriolanus place a hand on your back.

“I’ll call for the doctor,” he says.

The doctor and his nurses had been moved into the presidential palace for the pregnancy. Coriolanus wanted to be sure that if anything went wrong, a team of experts was at hand.

“No,” you moan, “He’s just moving that’s all.”

The next contraction had you yelling and kneeling over in pain.

“Is he coming?” His voice carried an excitement that could only be found in a person not about to give birth.

“To the bed,” he demands, “Come on.”

The team is quickly called up, bringing with them scary-looking machines. Your doctor had previously explained what they did and how he would deliver the baby. But none of it mattered now. You were terrified.

Coriolanus only left your side to get dressed. The labor was nearly fourteen hours, during which Coriolanus held your hand and waited for the contractions to get closer together.

He tried his best to make you comfortable. Hard pillows were brought in for you so you could sit up, and he held a water bottle close, ready for you.

As you enter the second stage of labor, the pain intensifies as your body gets ready for the push. Your fear spikes, knowing that a baby would soon be placed in your care.

“No, no,” you mutter. This wasn’t supposed to be like this, You were supposed to be married to the love of your life, and have your mother to coach you through this.

“You’re alright, darling. He is almost here,” Coriolanus dabbed an ice-cold rag over your forehead as he spoke.

“No,” you state more forcibly, “I want my mother.”

“Mrs. Snow, you need to start pushing,” the doctor instructs. Your body pushes automatically, causing a painful groan to resound around the room.

Coriolanus gives you words of encouragement but they buzz in your ear. The sound of your mother's name coming from your lips was the only thing you heard.

“You don’t need her. Just keep going.” He soothes.

You scream at the pain. The room felt as if it was on fire around you, but you knew it was cold outside. The world began to blur, the beeping of the machines and talk of the medical team lapped.

You look towards the doorway as your body begins to push again. You swear you see your mother peeking in.

“Mum!” you scream, “Mum, please, don’t leave me.”

“No, No.” Coriolanus consoles.

“No. Coriolanus, I want my mother. Where’s my brother?” You ask in a state of panic that brings tears to your eyes.

“Mrs. Snow, push.” The doctor bids.

“No!” you scream back, “Not without my mum.”

“Mrs. Snow, this baby is coming. You don’t have time,” the doctor says.

“Push,” Coriolanus tells you.

“Please, Coriolanus, please,” you beg. All you wanted was to see her. If he didn’t want you to speak that would be fine. You just needed to see your mother as you delivered your first child.

“What have you done?” You sob, looking at his worried face.

“I haven’t done anything,” he defends, “You need to start pushing.”

Pain ripples through your body and you push to ease it.

Three big pushes that burn, and suddenly the pressure in your stomach is gone.

A loud cry fills the room, in constellation with your heavy panting.

The crying buddle is brought to you by the doctor, but you push his hands away. One peak at his light blonde hair had you feeling sick. He was supposed to have dark hair like Edmund’s. He was supposed to be Edmund’s child.

Instead, the child was given to Coriolanus who accepted him into his arms.

“Coriolanus, where is my mother?” You ask.

“She’s not here. You know that,” he answers.

Still, you scream for her to save you.

“Commander Snow, please! Just let me see her,” you beg.

He looks down at you puzzled, with the screaming child in his arms.

Despite feeling as if you had been hit by a train, you attempt to rise which is discouraged by everyone in the room.

Coriolanus steps forward to stop you, but won’t release his hands from his son.

You feel the pressure from the nurses on your shoulder as they press you back into the mattress.

“Sir, can I administer a sedative to calm her?” a nurse asks.

Coriolanus nods at the nurse, and she inserts a needle into your IV drip.

“Get off. No!” You try to tug against the IV connection, but your hands are pinned down.

“Mum!” you shout, “Archie!”

The sedative works fast. You soon find yourself unable to hold your head up. The fight kicked out from under you.

You watch as Coriolanus holds tight to the small blanket.

“Commander, please.” You mumble, but hear no response as you slip into a deep sleep.

—-----------

When you wake it feels as if each limb has been torn from your body, and you have been hastily stitched together again.

The room is blurred but your eyes are opened. You could feel their sting as you failed to blink.

You had a son, you think, but where is he? Why can’t I hear him crying?

With newfound motivation you will yourself to get your bearings.

Your muscles move at your control once more, and your eyes focus on the lamp on the table.

As you regain control, you hear footsteps by the end of the bed. Your head rolls on the pillow to see Coriolanus as he stands over a bassinet, still for a second, before he reaches down and picks up your baby, wrapped tightly and swaddled.

You wanted to call out and demand that he place your baby back down but you were still hazy from the drugs. You're too slow to gain back your voice.

He sits in a nearby rocking chair with the baby tightly in his arms, beginning to rock gently as he gazes down at the small bundle.

The baby fusses slightly but is soon soothed back to sleep.

Seeing your baby in no harm, you try and sit up

“Coriolanus,” you call. His eyes shoot up to watch you as you rise into a sitting position but go back to your baby as he speaks.

“Take it easy. He’s okay,” he consoles.

“Is he healthy?” You ask.

Coriolanus smiles down at his son, as he rocks back and forth.

“He’s perfect. I’ve named him, Crassus Alexander Snow, after my father.”

You hate that your son is named after the man in the book. You hate that Coriolanus has named him without your approval. Your son wasn’t a doll for him to play with. He had taken enough from you, now it felt as if he was after your son too.

“You named him?” Your voice was hard with your displeasure.

“I had to. The nurses needed a name. Don’t worry you can have the next one.”

The next one. Not even 24 hours after an excruciating labor, and he was talking about the next one.

Looking around, you see that you only felt like you had just given birth. The machines, apart from your IV drip next to you, had been taken back. The bed was fresh under you, and you had been changed into comfortable pajamas.

You lean back into the bed, silent. This was not how you pictured your first child. You wanted your mother and brother to see him.

You picture seeing them again. Just one last time to say goodbye.

The thought of it makes you break the silence you otherwise never would have broken.

“Coriolanus, do you think I could write to my mother to let her know I had a child?” You ask quietly.

He is quiet which worries you. Your mother would know when the Capitol news circulated through the District, but you were hoping to at least let her know you tried to tell her.

“Yes, you should,” he finally spoke.

He gets up from the rocker and walks slowly towards your bed.

“Here, do you want to hold him?”

You open your arms for Coriolanus to place your son into.

He fits perfectly and doesn’t wake.

You stare at him. He didn’t feel like your son. Crassus was a small baby, with light blonde hair. Not how you imagined him.

Coriolanus lays on the bed next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders so he could bring you close.

“Thank you,” he says, “I know how scared you were. You called for your mother. Do you remember?”

You were hoping that he wouldn’t mention it. That it could just be something that happened and then forgotten.

“Did I?” you fawn.

You're careful to keep your eyes on your son, and not to look anywhere that could gain Coriolanus's attention.

He captures it anyway by bringing your chin up to his height.

“You did so well, and I am so proud of you,” he praises. He places a quick kiss on your lips before drawing his head back.

“I love you.” He states. His eyes look at you expecting.

“I love you too, Coriolanus.”

You never know if the letter you write is sent home. No return was ever given.

—--------------

A week later your baby boy lay between you and Coriolanus on the bed. He was sleeping after you had just fed him. It took a while for you to feel connected to him but now a mother's bond was established, and you could watch him sleep for hours.

Coriolanus ran his finger down the side of his baby's face and down to his little belly, rubbing soothing circles to try and help him digest the milk.

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” Coriolanus spoke to you but kept his gaze on his child.

“Yes,” you agree.

You wished your mother could see your baby. To hold him as is her right as a grandmother. You had wanted to ask Coriolanus, but you knew the answer. Still, you had to ask. Maybe he would be kinder to you after birthing his child.

“Coriolanus, I was wondering if I might be able to take him back home to see my family?”

His eyes shot up at you. The answer was more than no, it was how dare you.

“Don’t you ever ask me that again.” he seethes.

You held little hope that he would agree so his denial hurt less.

“Can we video call them?” you try to compromise.

“No,” his answer was hard and cold, “Put him in his bassinet and come back.” He commanded.

Crassus’s bassinet was only at the end of your bed. Coriolanus wanted to keep him close.

Your baby stirs as you gently pick him up but settles back into his mother's arms. He was so milk-drunk that the normal fight to set him into his bassinet was won with a gentle rock.

You knew you were in trouble with Coriolanus. The only time you had wished that your baby fought sleep was so you could avoid Coriolanus’ wrath.

He holds his tongue until you are back lying next to him.

“I don’t want you speaking about your family ever again. I don’t want our son to know that you are District. Think about them if you must, but if you continue to speak about them, I will have them killed.”

“They are my family,” you spat.

“We are your family. Us. Your son and your husband.”

You get up from next to him, even though you know you shouldn’t.

“Lay back down,” he demands.

“I’ve done everything you have asked of me,” you snivel, “Gone to every event where they look at me like a trained animal. Cooked your meals, washed your clothes. Gave you a son, just like you wanted.”

Your voice was wobbly and raised. The hormones that were still raging through your body from birth trapped you between uncontrollable sadness and an unquenchable fury.

“Be quiet. You’ll wake Crassus,” Coriolanus scolded.

“I don’t care!” You yell.

Coriolanus looks to the bassinet at the end of the bed, expecting his son to wake, crying.

All is silent. You lower your voice as you continue speaking. If you upset Crassus all conversation would stop.

“Crassus doesn’t have to come. I can have a one-hour phone call a month without him. He doesn’t have to know, but I can’t live like this.”

His eyes snapped to you as he lay in the bed. “Can’t live like this? I have given you a life so terrible that you can’t bear it?”

He rises from the bed, and you take a step back. You were in a bad condition after birth. There was no way you could defend yourself against him.

“Nothing I do for you is ever good enough for you” he exclaims. His eyes squint at you but his voice is calm and collected, “You know how dangerous it was for me to help you in 12? A Commander, and a District girl. How that looked for me in my presidential run? But I didn’t care. From the day I met you, I have looked after you. And you want me to feel in debt to you, because why? You cook the food I give you? Wash the clothes I buy? Birthed a beautiful son that you never would have had without me.”

“You didn’t ‘take care of me’, Coriolanus. You took me. I never asked for any of it. I want to go home to my family.”

Coriolanus stood across from you, his face unmoving and hard.

“You’re right. Family is important,” he suddenly says. His face relaxes, and body unwinded.

He moves quickly to the end of the bed where Crassus lies.

“Your brother had a child. A little girl, named after you,” he rocks the bassinet gently despite his threatening words.

“You want to see her? I can bring her here,” he taunts.

“No,” you whisper.

“No? All this talk of family, and the answer is no?’’

He looks down at his sleeping baby, checking for any signs of distress.

“I could bring them all here. They could work in the presidential estate. You’re the only one who doesn’t have to earn their keep”.

You imagine them dressed in the same white uniforms as the other servants. How much control Coriolanus would have over their lives daily.

“That’s not what I am asking,” you state.

“You’re asking to have your family around you, and I couldn’t agree more. Unless you don’t consider them family?”

“Well?” he pushes after a moment of silence.

“No.”

“Who do you consider family then?”

“You and Crasuss,” you gave the answer he wanted to hear.

“That’s right!” He cooed, running a hand over Crassus’s head, “Just us. All you need is us.”

He straightens once more, giving his full attention back to you.

“I am not asking you to be grateful, but I will not allow you to be thankless,” he shoves his hands in his pockets in a casual manner.

“You should sleep as he sleeps,” he suggests. He wanted the fight to be over, and the newborn bliss to continue.

“Lay back down, and go to sleep. No more talk of Districts.”

He leaves you in the room with your son, retreating from any further fighting.

You wondered if it was true. Did Archie have a baby?

Some part of you hoped it was true, and that she would fill the void of you in their lives. Just as Crassus filled the void for you.

—-----------

With the success of Crasuss, Coriolanus was eager to have another one. You were still getting used to motherhood. You weren’t sure if you could deal with this one, let alone another one.

Coriolanus stayed home with you for the 40 days that you were supposed to be on bed rest. He was up late with work, and then during the night with Crasuss.

He tried to give you as much rest as he could. But Crassus needed you for feedings, and sometimes he would only settle if he was in your arms.

Coriolanus was unversed in assessing others' needs. He would bounce Crassus when he needed to be held, change his diaper when he needed to be fed, and give him toys that were too old for him.

He couldn’t decipher his cries like you could, leaving him frustrated.

You knew he tried, which was more than you expected of him.

You wake from the sound of your son crying from what feels like a two second nap. Coriolanus tried to prolong it for you by trying to soothe the baby himself.

“He needs to be burped,” you tell Coriolanus, “Put him up on your shoulder and pat his back.”

He had only just fed so you knew it was just tummy pain.

Coriolanus does as you say. Crassus settles as he is put upright but no burp comes.

“It’s not working,” Coriolanus panics. Every little thing the doctor was to be called to check it out.

“Keep going,” you encourage.

Coriolanus sighs in relief when Crassus lets out a little burp and returns to being a happy baby.

“You’re good at this,” he commented, “ A natural.”

He always knew you would be, but to see it in action filled him with great joy and admiration.

You huff in response, closing your eyes to go back to sleep.

Coriolanus had to go back to his usual duties, leaving you with the full responsibilities of being a mother.

It was overwhelming to have no one else to talk to but a baby. You spent your days in the apartment which drove you crazy.

You eye the door. Coriolanus never told you to stay in the apartment. It was just an assumption you made. You knew you would never get outside of the gates, but you would settle for the gardens.

With your baby in your arms, you cautiously twist the knob.

There is no booby trap as you step out. No alarm rings. So you continue your journey.

You vaguely remember the way from when you were out of the apartment with Coriolanus.

A maid was polishing the wood of the staircase you needed to go down. You curse but try to act casual as you approach her.

“Mrs. Snow,” the maid seemed surprised to see you, “Can I do something for you?”

“No. I am just going to the gardens,” you justify.

You walk quickly away from her. You hear her calling your name but you don’t stop.

The house is large and echos as you make your way across it. The entrance out into the gardens was almost hidden.

You wanted to run, but you were careful not to shake your baby too much.

The big door comes into view. A sense of excitement and apprehension overcame you. You had never been outside of the Presidential quarters without Coriolanus. Now you were stepping outside. It felt as if you were gaining some independence back.

When you open the door, you are confronted with a Peacekeeper, who stands aside out of your way.

You thank him as you move past him, but he follows wordlessly as you cross the field.

The maid had called the Peacekeeper on you, who called Coriolanus on you, and Coriolanus had told the Peacekeeper to keep an eye on what you were doing.

You find a spot under a tree in the lowest field, the Peacekeeper stands ten feet away to give you and your baby some privacy.

You play with your baby in the short grass. He liked the feeling of it.

Some maids come, bringing a picnic blanket, and a glass of lemonade.

You thank them although you wanted none of their assistance.

Crassus has some tummy time listening to the birds. You lay back on the grass and watch the sun as it goes down. It was comforting to know that your mother and brother would be looking at the same sun. As far away as they were, at least something still connected you.

You tell Crassus about them and he babbles back as if he was trying to talk. You tell him about Edmund in the prime of his life. You don’t discuss Edmund’s death or his father's involvement.

You begin to explain District 12 to him just as the sun disappears behind the trees, when you hear the Peacekeeper stand to attention in greeting. You shut up immediately.

“It’s time to come inside” Coriolanus’s voice is heard.

He picks his son up and places him on his shoulder after a quick kiss.

You get up with the blanket and cup as you follow him back to the house.

Coriolanus takes the items from you and gives them to the Peacekeeper in passing.

“Look at this,” Coriolanus pulls out a small doll from his pocket, “A senator's little girl gave it to me. She was so cute. We should try for a girl next.”

You still had four weeks before the doctor gave you the go-ahead to engage in intercourse. But you knew Coriolanus would push the limits on that time frame.

“I want to wait at least a year before another one,” you tell him.

It already was so difficult, you wouldn’t survive having to care for another one.

“No,” Coriolanus protested, “I would like a girl before the years out.”

You knew how obsessive Coriolanus could be when he had a thought trapped in his head. You also knew that nothing you said was going to change his mind.

You wait until Crassus is asleep, and your shift with Coriolanus starts.

He was waiting for you like he usually is. After Crassus was asleep, it was his turn to have his wife.

He had opened a bottle of wine and was flicking through the tv channels. It surprised him when you dropped to your knees in front of him.

Your hands reach for his trousers, and he eagerly helps you to take them off. During pregnancy he didn’t want to force you to do anything, thinking that it might harm the baby. After he was born, there was a recovery period that he had to wait through. It left Coriolanus pent up and hungry for your touch.

Your lips were warm on him and worked so well.

After all of your experience, you knew what Coriolanus liked. You swatted his hands off you as he tried to take control. He relents, bringing his hands to his thighs in a tight grip.

You feel it grow in your mouth with your attention. It twitches under your tongue and you knew it as a sign he was close.

Just as he is reaching his high, you drag your lips back and off.

He gasps as you do, throwing his head back onto the couch.

“What are you doing?” He groans. He was irritated, which was not your desired effect.

“Crassus turns one before another baby,” you demand.

His hands curl into the couch as he counters, “Eight months.”

You move to get up but his hands stop you, “Okay, okay, a year. Just finish.” He begs.

You do finish him off, with the smug satisfaction that Coriolanus Snow is just a man.

The day Crassus turns one, Coriolanus keeps you to your bargain.

Coriolanus was determined to have a girl. Clothes and bows had already been brought.

While Capitol technology allowed you to artificially change the sex of your baby, Coriolanus was more interested in conceiving the natural way.

He researched old myths to increase his chances, and he tried all of them.

He made you drink lemon juice before sex. He initiated sex on even days of the week. You were on a diet of fish, eggs, and vegetables. And you had to leave your legs raised for a couple of minutes after he was finished.

You were slow to conceive like you were with Crassus. But one of the old wives' tales worked, for nearly nine months after Crassus turned one, you fell pregnant with a baby girl.

You named her Aurora meaning dawn. A silent homage to your family back home, and the sun that connects you.

—--------------------

Having children strangely settled you. You had five children in total within years of each other. Your fifth child was your last. After you had lost too much blood during the birth of your next boy, Coriolanus put off plans to have a sixth. It scared him, seeing you so pale, laying half dead in a bed like his mother. The goal of children was to bring you closer, not to use you up.

They gave your life purpose and little room to think about anything else but their needs. As they grew, you got more freedom to explore the city. Always under an army of guards. Coriolanus wanted them to have a full life, even if it meant granting you access to be far from him.

His children were not to miss out on anything the Capitol had to offer. Their names were on the top of the list for any attractions, child star concerts, and plays. The world was at their fingertips, and you got to experience Capitol life through them.

He went when he could but his work was demanding. In his absence, a team of Peacekeepers escorted you and your kids around the Capitol.

Despite his many faults, Coriolanus was a doting father. His children were first, sometimes before you. Where once his hold was tight around you all night, now you wake to find that one of your children had escaped their bed and taken your place.

You always worried about his temper. He hasn’t hit you in years. You figure it was partly because you gave him little reason to, and partly because if you weren’t physically holding a child in your arms, you had one in your belly.

But as your children grew would they be in the same danger as you if they acted out?

They all had the signature blonde hair of a Snow, but only the firstborn had Coriolanus’s blue eyes. Your other two boys and girls had your eyes. Something to tell you that they weren’t all Coriolanus.

Date night normally consisted of an official event. They were far and few between as Coriolanus preferred you to be home with the babies. He disliked nannies but conceded to their usefulness.

Tonight was a charity event to raise money for a new public swimming pool. Vapid and silly. At this stage, only Crassus and Aurona were born to be left crying as you tried to leave for the event.

They were not used to being parted from you, and you were not used to being parted from them.

“It’s okay,” you hush, “Mummy will be back soon, and she will check on you.”

Aurora was too young to know what your words meant. Her only cue that something was wrong was Crassus as he screamed.

“No, Mummy, no!” His face was bright red from tears. You worried that he was short on breath from his screaming.

He knew when you dressed up, you were leaving. He was four but a smart little thing. As soon as the stylist crew arrived, his meltdown began.

You held him as they did your hair and make-up, trying to soothe him. Coriolanus was still at work. All he needed to do was change his suit when he arrived home.

He arrived home to chaos he could not settle.

He stood behind you, watching as your son tried to tug off your elbow-length glove.

“It’s alright, it’s okay. Mum will be back,” you promise.

Aurora throws her head back, throwing her body off balance in your hold.

The two nannies try to gain the kids' attention by holding out new toys, and calling out to them.

“Once you leave they will settle,” one of the nannies promised.

With teary eyes, you kiss both of your crying children, Coriolanus does the same, and Aurora is handed over.

Crassus’s little hands claw onto your dress, he has to be picked up and yanked away by his nanny.

You try not to let your tears fall as you walk to the car. It would ruin your make-up, and once you started to cry, you weren’t sure you would be able to stop.

“They will be fine,” Coriolanus promises on the way to the event.

“Why do I have to go tonight?” It was a silly thing that would survive without you.

“Because you’re my wife. That’s why.”

Despite many years in the Capitol, events like this reminded you that you don’t belong.

People would only talk to you in an attempt to gain an audience with Coriolanus.

You would remain civil but not overly friendly.

They all thought you were shy and timid as you were rarely seen, and always by Coriolanus’s side.

Your relationship with Coriolanus had changed over the years but his overprotectiveness never dissolved.

His hand was always on you in some form. Where he went, you went. Who he talked to, you talked to. You were only an extension of him in public. At least at home, you were your own person to your kids.

Tonight it seemed to all children. Only one person spoke to you apart from Coriolanus.

It was a little girl, who passed you a flower in thanks. The public pool didn’t seem so silly in your eyes anymore. You bent down to talk to her, thanking her for the flower. You asked her about school and her siblings. You told her about your own children who were too young to attend a party like her.

You were disappointed when her nanny came to collect her. She scolds the child for running away and bothering the President.

Tucking the flower behind your ear, you blow the girl a kiss as she is carted off.

The rest of the night was dull as you acted as Coriolanus’s shadow.

Coriolanus had just finished a speech on stage, you were walking back down the hallway to the party with him. You passed a few people running the events. They tried to talk to him, but he seemed in a rush.

He turns off the direction of the party, and tugs you down an empty hallway.

You ask him what he is doing as he checks the doors until he finds one that is opened and ushers you inside. It was a supply closest. Small and smelling slightly damp.

He pushes you up against the wall, knocking over a broom and a bucket.

“You’re such a good mother. Such a good little wife. I don’t tell you that enough,” he says.

“Okay,” you respond, pushing back on his shoulders.

“I love you so much.” He kisses you so hard, that your head is knocked painfully back into the cement wall.

It reminded you of the harsh and needy kisses he used to give you as a Commander.

You feel his hands slide up your dress and grip the flesh of your butt.

“Coriolanus, not here,” you beg.

His lips go to your throat in slow, sexual kisses.

“I want another baby,” he requests.

“Not here. Someone could find us.”

“Not if you are quiet.”

“Coryo,” You try. A bit too loud for this liking. He clamps a hand over your mouth, and shushes you with a hard look that tells you he was serious.

“It would not look good if they found the President and First Lady fucking in a closet.”

He kneels on the floor in front of you, going under your dress and up your legs, bringing down your underwear.

You feel him put his mouth on you, and you try to relax. It took you months to fall pregnant the last two times. This time wasn’t anything special.

His fingers dig into the back of your thighs, keeping you close as he works.

Soon a lapping sound is heard, and Coriolanus leaves your cunt with a kiss.

You try one more time to dissuade him. Telling him to wait until home. But he unbuckles his belt and hoists you up around his waist.

Your arms circle his shoulders as he pins you to the wall.

You can feel how hard he is against your heat. He bucks up against your wetness in desperation before he lines himself up properly.

You engulf him in your wetness as he thrusts his hips up into you.

With no way to hold yourself up, you feel yourself sink and then be thrusted up into.

“Are you going to give me a baby?” He grunts.

He is fast and rough as he slams up into you. His words were heard but your mind was far from them.

“Yeah?” He teases. His lips go to your neck again, trapping you head against the wall.

He seemed to continuously hit the spot that you liked, no matter how you moved your hips.

The pressure means you come too quickly. Coriolanus was nowhere close so would continue.

You can’t help to groan as he fucks you through your orgasm.

He reminds you to be quiet once more, and you bite his shoulder to stop the sounds you couldn’t stop coming.

He knew you had come from the way you clenched around him.

Taking the back of your neck, he leans you into his shoulder and wraps an arm around your waist.

He delivers you to the floor, releasing you gently into the tight confines of the cluttered room.

“Think you can manage another one?” He asks.

You shake your head ‘No’, your words failed you as he continued his brutal pace.

“I think you could,” he states.

He uses two fingers to circle your pearl as he drives into you.

The door had no lock. Anyone could open it and see you.

You were being too loud. You knew you were. But he forced the sounds from you. Your whole body tingled under his touch, your legs shook with pleasure.

He was not being entirely quiet himself. He grunted and shutters above you feeling his own end coming.

You feel him twitch in your preceding his exploding into you.

He beats you but doesn’t stop swirling his fingers, determined to have you finish again.

You come too loudly causing Coriolanus to cover your mouth with an open palm and look to the door, expecting detection.

His hand is pulled and with a kiss, Coriolanus pulls back on his ankles with a stupid grin.

He uses your panties to clean up the excess cum from you before placing the underwear back on you.

If you had any energy, you would have taken them back off but all you could do was lie there, watching him transform back into a respectable gentleman.

“We have to get back out there before they send Peacekeepers looking for us.”

He finishes tucking his shirt back into his pants before reaching down to help you to your feet.

You’re a little wobbly at first but Coriolanus keeps a firm grip to keep you upright.

You spend the rest of the fundraiser with damp panties and shaky legs which causes you to bump into Coriolanus as he stands next to you.

The stupid grin never leaves his face, even in the car ride home.

Your children are asleep when you arrive home.

You leave them with a kiss, before going back to your room and rushing to beat Coriolanus to bed while he is occupied going through the messages left for him.

He joins you in the shower but it’s quick and with the intention of going to bed.

He talks about the night. Recalling things he enjoyed and disliked.

He asks you what you think but you shrug. All Capitol events were the same to you.

You finish your shower while Coriolanus washes his hair. Giving you time to dress and get into bed before him.

You roll to your side, hoping that the supply closet tryst fulfilled him enough.

You feel him as he moves in the bed to come over to your side, his arm wraps around your shoulder and his head rests against yours.

“We should take the kids to the zoo tomorrow. I’ll have it cleared out.”

“Okay,” you reply, knowing that there wasn’t any other option.

The zoo was large, and there were too many animals to see before nap time.

Crassus got whiny and tired from all the walking and climbing on things. He demanded to be carried. Instead of using his words, he would scream when he got sick of looking at the same animal.

Normally you would have returned home to put him down for a nap, but Coriolanus enjoyed having his son rest on his shoulder. Crassus was a mommy’s boy and very rarely wanted to be held by anyone else.

It was not your first time at the zoo. You had taken Crassus while you were six months pregnant with Aurora. It still amazed you, however. You could spend hours just looking and learning about the animals, but Crassus was lucky to push a five hour awake period.

It was a blessing to visit the penguins where the sound of the gentle flowing water, and cool air sent him to sleep on Coriolanus' shoulder.

You pushed the pram that Aurora was asleep in as you and Coriolanus searched for a comfortable resting place.

Finding a canopy, you sit with your family in the shade. Coriolanus had successfully transferred Crassus from his shoulder to the bench with his head resting on his father's thigh.

Coriolanus’s other leg went out to gently rock the pram with his expensive shoe.

You lay back resting your eyes yourself. Crassus had woken you up from a nightmare. With him in your bed, you got very little sleep as he tossed and spread out.

Coriolanus disturbs your peace by reaching out to place a hand on your stomach as if there was something already inside.

“What do you think it will be?” he asks.

“We don’t know there is anything in there.”

Coriolanus had wanted you to take a test this morning but it was chaos trying to get the children ready for the day.

“I don’t care what it is myself. I was thinking Marcellus for a boy, and Lillian for a girl”.

You cry at the thought of being pregnant again. It was a horrible experience. It was uncomfortable, tiring, and you suffered great nausea all throughout the nine months. That's all before the recovery period while you run around after two other children.

“Hey,” his voice is soft and reassuring. He stops rocking the pram to reach his hand to yours.

The hand that wasn’t captured by Coriolanus went to your mouth to quieten your blathering. You were always cautious about what the children saw.

“If it’s too much I’ll let you get a nanny to help during the day” he offers.

You rip your hand out from under him in anger, “I don’t want a nanny.”

You didn’t trust Capitol people to be around your children. Only when you were forced to where you parted from them. They were too young. They needed their mother.

“You’re tired,” he pandered. His hand wraps around your shoulder to pull you down to his lap. You rest your head on his thigh like your son, and find your eyes shut by themselves.

You feel his fingers itch your head until you are asleep. Coriolanus waits until your breath evens before returning to rock the pram with his hand. With his arm rested over his oldest child, and his hand lulling his baby girl to sleep, Coriolanus felt a swell of pride.

His family slept under his protection and lead. Pamen had entered into a new golden age. All paths led him here.

You woke to the sound of Aurona crying which woke and upset Crassus.

On instinct, you shoot up from Coriolanus to retrieve your baby girl. She needed to be fed again, but Crassus was now rejecting Coriolanus’s hold, wanting to be picked up by you.

You oblige him when his face starts to turn red from crying. You feel their tears on either side of your collarbones. Their screams rang in your ear.

Coriolanus stretches his dead legs, slowly easing himself up to place a hand on Crassus' back.

“Let's get ice cream,” he bribes.

Crasuss turns his head to look at his father and nods.

With a bright smile, Coriolanus claps his hands together before opening them wide, “Come to daddy?” He asks.

You never let him get ice cream at the zoo. It was too close to nap time. So with the promise Crassus eagerly goes into his father's arms.

At the ice cream shop you could feed Aurona but it took far longer than normal with the anxiety that you were pregnant with your third. Something told you that you were.

It was a boy. A gorgeous baby boy. Doll was your nickname for him, but Coriolanus officially names him Adrianus. He cried very little, and at six weeks old he slept through the night. He latched easily, and from 3 to 4 in the afternoon, he would laugh insatiably at everything. He was a dream child. You were very happy with him, despite his initial undesired conception.

Life settled for a little bit as Coriolanus worked to quell a quiet rebellion brewing in the Districts.

For a year Coriolanus was kept busy. His mind off expanding his family.

For the moment he was happy with the three wonderful kids you had given him. Something you could share. Three young kids, five and under, left you exhausted by the end of the day, yet when the day was over and the kids were asleep, Coriolanus demanded your attention.

Coriolanus was not immune to jealousy even from his own kids. You had learnt to give him enough attention during the day when he was around but it only starved him off until night time. He rarely talked about work. Only upcoming events that concern you. He was more interested in you recounting every single thing the kids did.

After having the kids hang off you all day, your least favorite thing to do was have Coriolanus all over you. But when it was his time, he followed you everywhere you went. Insisting that you sat on the couch with him for an hour. He didn’t feel like it was much, but you felt as if it was the last bit of energy zapped out of you.

You normally got a break when Coriolanus returned home from work. He started early so normally he was home in the late afternoon. While you had lots of staff to help you with chores and cooking, you preferred to do it yourself. It gave you a routine that you could go auto-pilot on.

From five to six every day you were in your kitchen while Coriolanus watched the children. Capitol food took some getting used to. Half of the meat you had never even seen before. Coriolanus organized cooking lessons to help you as a Mother’s Day gift.

Dinner was often followed by free play if they weren’t too messy, allowing you time to feed Adrianus. It was important that he had your full attention as you fed as he was so quiet that you might miss a cue of his discomfort.

Crassus sat coloring at the kitchen table while you were in the kitchen trying to feed your youngest boy, Adrianus, who had just turned one

Coriolanus sat next to his son watching as your daughter Aurora showed off her expensive ball gown that her father had brought her simply because she wanted it. ‘No’ was not in Coriolanus’s vocabulary when it came to his children.

He held out accessories in his palm for her as she explained what they were and where they went.

Despite ruling a country with an iron fist, at home, it was you who disciplined the children. He let them run wild, while you tried to raise them to be respectable, and moral children. Your work mostly paid off. They were good children.

Aurora having free reign over her father and older brother, who both bent over backwards to please her, was spoiled. Her tantrums were something you were yet to stop, but she was sweet when not disappointed which was more often than not.

She only had to cry and Coriolanus would pick her up, giving her what she wanted. It annoyed you to no end. If your marriage was equal, you would push more for him to discipline the kids, but Coriolanus only ever gave you the illusion of partnership.

“Mummy, how did you meet Daddy?” Crassus asks out of nowhere as he draws.

The small spoon in your hand drops to the floor as memories that you had buried spring up. The stalking, the harassment, the loss of freedom. You remember the late nights as your mother cried out from pain from the flogging that he ordered.

“Mummy used to own a cake shop, and Daddy would go by every morning before University to buy one.” Coriolanus answered for you. He reaches out and brushes Crassus' hair lovingly.

“Dad, you can’t have cake for breakfast!” Aurora exclaimed.

“Oh, but I did! Your mother would make them special for me.”

You close your eyes remembering the words, ‘Can you make me some more of those oat bars.’ A demand, not a gesture on your behalf. You remember the hard wall behind you as he pressed you there. Just the thought of it brought your heart back into your throat as if it was happening all over again.

“She doesn’t let me have cake for breakfast!” Aurora complained. Tears sprang to her eyes causing Crassus to push a lollypop you had given him for eating his dinner across the table, trying to fight off his sister's tears.

Coriolanus picks her up from the floor and places her on his knee so she can cry into his arms.

“Darling, these are special cakes. Ones you give to someone you want to marry.”

You remember the cakes you used to make Edmund. Edmund, you hadn’t thought about him in years, yet the scar on your heart never healed.

“Not growing little girls.” Still, your daughter cried, which displeased Coriolanus.

He rises from the table with Aurora in his arms and heads into the fridge.

“Let's see if Mum baked any for you”.

Your youngest son begins to cry from hunger which snaps you out of your spiraling. With your daughter receiving a cupcake and your son resuming feeding, the room is calm once more. But your hand shook as your mind flooded with memories of Commander Snow.

Moments later, Crassus presented you with a picture of two stick figures surrounded by out-of-proportion cupcakes. You stared at it with the weight of your baby resting on your hip.

Just like that Coriolanus had rewritten history. Commander Snow was a distant dream. District 12 a vague thought. Lucy Gray no longer haunted the woods. No longer made Coriolanus Snow the victor of the 10th Hunger Games. The war scar had faded. He had fixed history’s mistakes.

He had taken his rightful place as President of Pamen. Only you were left to remember him as Commander Snow.

The end!

Thank you all for reading, and coming along for the journey. Especially to those who commented and motivated me to write. This story would not have been complete without you.

A HUGE thank you to @hotline-to-hell for editing the work, and restructuring the mess.

And a HUGE thank you to @thaleleah and (who i assume is the same) anon who took the time out to encourage me with their long, and hilarious feedback.

Hope to see you all in my other works!

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