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hidden-poet · 2 months

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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!

taglist:

@sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw

@mrsjobarnes

@greekyoghurtwithberries

@namelesslosers

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#coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #dark!coriolanus snow #tom blyth #commander snow #dead dove do not eat

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kasagia · 4 months

Text

Dancing with the devil II

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem! royal!reader Summary: The Na-Baron's birthday celebration on Giedi Prime at the beginning of the season makes you realise just how much work you'll have to put into becoming Empress—and even more into avoiding Harkonnen, who's showing you way too much attention. This is something that your almost-fiance definitely shouldn't like, and something that he doesn't notice. After all, there's little you can see in the darkness of Giedi Prime. Warning: kind of royal au!; 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; smut; Inspired by: Bridgerton and "Would've, could've, should've" - Taylor Swift Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART I ~•♤♤♤•~ PART III ~•♤♤♤•~

"Smile. And powder yourself. You look pale, as if we were going there for a beheading and not a ball." Your mother says, adjusting the position of the grid of diamonds decorating your head. You flinch as you feel the cool metal of the gems brush against your cheek.

The damn thing was heavy, but nice. You remember perfectly how Lord Luwael's eyes lit up when he saw you wearing a similar ornament in your hair.

"In a way it is. First we will see the fight in the arena." You are sceptical of what comes next when your ship lands on Giedi Prime. You didn't like this place. It was black and white, barren, devoid of life and any moral principles. It was therefore an ideal place for gossip to arise - especially the spicy ones.

Besides, your... last encounter with Na-Baron was still fresh in your memory. Especially in dreams. On those terrible nights, you dreamed about how, in the darkness of your gardens and under the moonlight, you allowed him to do... more wicked things. Things that even husbands and wives shouldn't do behind their chambers' doors. And as much as you felt aroused after every dream like this, you were also disgusted with yourself and hated the Na-Baron even more for your little fantasies.

This helped immensely when it came to increasing motivation to win the emperor's cousin's heart, but no amount of flirting with him helped you forget the touch of a certain Harkonnen. You found it very interesting. And you hoped that after fighting in the arena, your body would adopt the same attitude towards him as your brain. He was dangerous and should have been avoided by you at all costs, and yet, in every fantasy about him, you enjoyed his burning touch more than the previous ones and wanted much more to happen between you two.

"Better for you. Half of these charpies in silks and sparkles will faint and never set foot in a ballroom. Take this opportunity and stick to the arm of the emperor's cousin." She advises you, licking her finger and twisting a lock of your hair so it rests unruly against your temple and falls onto your cheek.

"Lord Luwael wrote to me all summer. Besides, you saw for yourself that he visited our planet several times."

"It does not mean anything. He could only be bored, so he flew around the planets looking for entertainment. You have to charm him, Y/N. Drive him crazy with a... desire for you so great that he will do anything to have you—only then will he propose to you. It's still a miracle that he looked at you, since we come from a worse dynasty than him." He reminds you dryly, and you press your lips into a thin line. He doesn't wait for your answer. She leaves your room, clearly expecting you to follow her, when the ship announces that you are about to land.

You take a shaky breath, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your home-coloured dress hugged your curves perfectly, showing off the best of your figure, and your makeup highlighted your cheekbones and gave your eyes depth. All of this made you an irresistible sight. Lord Luwael would have to be blind not to appreciate your beauty. You will leave Giedi Prime with a ring on your finger or on the ship of the emperor's cousin. You did not see any other possibility, nor did you want to allow something other to happen.

You put on your soft, genuine smile and leave the room to join your mother on the exit ramp. Moments later, the ramp descends, revealing the black sun of Giedi Prime. You frown and squint as you adjust to the atmosphere on the planet. Your mother and you come down to earth. As soon as you can see beyond the patch of land in front of you, you shiver as you notice the Na-Baron waiting near your ship. You feel your anxiety and nervousness rising inside you, but you try your hardest to maintain your polite smile.

"Viscountess Y/L/N. Lady Y/L/N." He greets you, his gravelly voice sending shivers down your spine. You try to control your breathing and heartbeat, as panic is rising within you.

He looks... even more intimidating than on your home planet. That night, his mask had covered practically his entire face, but now you could see him in all his glory. And damn you, because those tempting lips he had weren't the only advantage of his appearance.

His face looked as if thousands of painters had worked on it, as if it had been lifted from ancient paintings depicting beautiful demons tempting people to damnation. And, oh, what a handsome devil he was. If you believed in an afterlife, you would wonder if he escaped from hell to lead people into temptation.

You couldn't help but wonder if he would recognise you. Does he know that it was you who went with him to the garden a few months ago? You try to read some reaction from his face, but he maintains an emotionless, composed demeanour as he looks at you and your mother.

"Na-Baron. It's a great honour to be here to celebrate your birthday. May fate always be in your favour." She greets him kindly. You shiver in relief as he thankfully doesn't pay much attention to you as his gaze comes back to your mother.

"I hope it will. The maids will show you the way to the guest wing and your chambers. All celebrations will take place tomorrow. I hope that you will soon get used to the atmospheric conditions in Giedi Prime. Until then." He nods at the maids standing behind him. Bald women come up to you and hand you tiny baskets. "Our guests find it quite useful."

You look at the things in the basket; your attention is caught by sunglasses with black lenses and a strange coat. Your mother reaches for her coat and, with practiced skill, slips it gracefully over herself, along with her glasses, as you stare unsteadily at the strange fabric.

"Lady Y/L/N. May I?" Na-Baron asks. However, he doesn't wait for your answer.

He comes closer to you, takes your cloak from the basket, and hands it to your servants. He wraps the coat around you, adjusting it to your figure and making sure to cover all of your exposed skin.

"We Harkonnens have a special pigment in our skin to prevent the carcinogenic effects of sunlight and burns from long-term exposure. You must remember to wear this coat outside to avoid any diseases, Lady Y/L/N." He says, standing behind you and tying the fabric of your coat together. He uncovers your face for a moment and puts on your sunglasses. "Nor your beautiful eyes to be damaged." He whispers, so only you can hear him.

You shiver, staring at him blankly, glad that your sunglasses allow you the convenience of hiding your eyes from him and whatever you're focused on.

Was it possible that he recognised you? Was he giving you a hint that he knew you were his white swan? NO. Impossible. He probably flirted with every single woman who came to Giedi Prime. After all, he was going to find a wife this season. He had to show his softer side and hide Giedi Prime's brutality from the naive noblewomen so that some stupid and naive one would marry him.

"We thank you very much for your kindness, Na-Baron." Your mother speaks for you, obviously angry that you haven't spoken up for yourself. You just nod, shifting your gaze to the castle behind him, trying to escape his watchful, searching gaze for a moment.

"Your welcome." He responds with a nod to your mother.

He takes your hand in his, making you tense slightly as he leans down and presses a short kiss on it. A shiver runs through you as you feel the shape of his lips through your gloves, and your mind automatically recalls the memory of that night. You smile at him politely and quickly join your mother's side, leaving Na-Baron on the ramp as another ship arrives.

"Do not act like that. Don't show that you're afraid of them. And be careful. It's very common for people here to disappear after showing disrespect to the Na-Baron. You know how, right?" She whispers furiously to you as you are led inside the palace by the maids.

"I... I know. I'm sorry." You say this thoughtfully, turning discreetly over your shoulder to watch him greet the other noble families. This time, he doesn't kiss anyone's hand or help anyone put on their protective cloak. You shake your head. He probably saw that you weren't engaged to anyone yet, and that's why you got... special treatment from him.

"Just don't act like a scared mouse. I raised you better."

Right. Your mother raised you better. That's why you shouldn't have disappeared into the garden with this mysterious stranger from the very beginning. It would save you a headache now that wasn't caused by the oppressive atmosphere on Giedi Prime. You just wanted this season to end as soon as possible. Preferably your marriage.

You walk hand in hand with Lady Y/F/N towards the arena, gossiping about what happened since last night. The Giedi Prime sun is somehow more bearable today; you don't know if it's because of the items given by Na-Baron or because the weather was exceptionally not as cruel as the day you arrived, but you feel much better. (Or maybe it was because you didn't see Na-Baron Harkonnen today.)

"I tell you, Princess Irulan was furious. I heard she destroyed her room, and the maids worked all night to get it back in order. Do you think it's possible? That the Emperor wants to marry her off to Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha?"

"Possible. It wouldn't be a stupid move. After all, Irulan cannot become emperor. She may be the firstborn, but she has no right to rule. It is logical that her father wants to marry her off to the second-best possible party, of course, when it comes to financial and political issues."

"Second best? Who's first?" You just smile at her question, watching the other noblewomen and their families walk towards the arena.

"Of course, as a woman in love, I must say that Lord Luwael."

"Has someone talked about me?"

A faint blush appears on your cheeks. You and Y/F/N turn around to see a smug Lord. You give him an equally mischievous smirk and curtsy, grabbing the arm he offered you.

"I do not think so. You must have misheard, Lord Luawel. Maybe it's the sun of Giedi Prime that bothers you so much that you lose your hearing?" You tease him as the three of you enter the arena.

"Lady Y/N, you don't have to worry about me so much, as sweet as that is. Fortunately, I don't need as much protection as you ladies do. However, I must admit that Giedi Prime is a terrible place. It does not allow you to see the natural beauty of certain things, taking away their colours."

"Maybe there's something… positive to be found here?" Y/F/N asks hesitantly as you pass a group of Harkonnens heading to the arena. The men say something in their harsh, unpleasant language that makes you shiver. You are only further insisting that there is nothing good to find on Giedi Prime.

"Positive? With all due respect, Lady Y/F/N, the Harkonnens have destroyed everything beautiful that could be left on this planet. Including their appearance and behavior." You giggle, careful not to let anyone else but the three of you hear you. But you wonder why your friend's attitude is so... sullen. She plays with her glove nervously as her eyes fall on the baron's older nephew, Rabban. "I don't know who is worse, him or his younger psychopathic brother."

"I think both of them are equal in their madness." You comment, agreeing with Lord Luwael.

Your eyes involuntarily land on Na-Baron, who exchanges a few words with one of his servants. You shiver when his eyes find yours—as if he has a special detector that makes him aware every time someone's eyes linger on him for too long.

He nods to you, looking at you carefully and examining your dress. His lips twitch into a smile when he sees you're wearing the coat he helped you adjust to your figure yesterday. You quickly turn your head towards Lord Luwael and give him one of your practiced, beautiful smiles.

"I… I'm sorry. I should join my family. Lord Luwael. Lady Y/N."

You frown, watching her walk away like a beaten puppy. You decide to question her about her strange behavior later in the evening. Now you had to focus on your lord.

"And you, lady? Are your wonderful mother and father with you?" Lord Luwael asks, placing his hand on top of yours after managing to penetrate the layers of material protecting your skin. He acts as if he wants to pull you much closer to him.

You feel the skin of your hand burn where it touches his, but unfortunately, not from... the excitement of this tiny, forbidden contact. Someone's eyes are watching you carefully, but you are too afraid to look towards Na-Baron to confirm that it is his irises that are staring hatefully at your joined hands.

"My mother had a headache, so she staid in her chamber. Unfortunately, my father couldn't show up at all. I hope you won't abandon me and leave me so lonely in this barbaric place, my lord?"

"I wouldn't dare do that. I am a gentleman. After all, someone has to catch you if you faint, my lady."

You smile sweetly at him, ignoring the sudden urge to kick him in the crotch for his words. You must maintain the innocent demeanour of a cute, awkward, and sweet noblewoman. Even though you hated it...

"Oh, you don't know how much I appreciate it, my lord." You say, wondering if you should actually pretend to faint and let him catch you. It would be very romantic if he carried you out of the arena in his arms and took you to the medic. Plus, you wouldn't have to watch... Na-Baron's entire performance.

You take your seat in the guest box. The arena shakes with the screams and applause of people who are truly eager for their Na-Baron to shed blood. Lord Luwael hands you the binoculars and gently removes your cloak as you both notice that you are protected from the sun's rays by a special black glass window.

You shiver as the Harkonnen's war drums sound and the announcer says something in their language, announcing Feyd-Rautha's fight.

A blush involuntarily blooms on your cheeks when you see that Na-Baron has decided to fight without a shirt or any armour protecting his chest. You hungrily stare at his muscular torso as he shows off his warrior body, which is decorated with paint—probably their war symbols, bringing good luck in battle.

"A real poseur and playboy. He only does it to attract attention."

"Probably. But you can't say, that it doesn't work, my lord." You say and nod towards the other ladies, who are also staring at the muscular figure of a warrior that Na-Baron proudly displays.

"Does it work for you?"

"I'm just a woman. But I prefer… slightly more hairy men." Lord Luwael chuckles at your comment, giving you a mischievous look. His attention briefly returns to Na-Baron, who lets out a belligerent cry after the murder of the first prisoner. You see him shiver slightly and his eyebrows furrow before his attention returns to you.

"So would I also gain your attention if I appeared… in a similar condition?"

"My lord, you would then have my complete undivided attention." You respond equally flirtatiously. The man sitting next to you hums in appreciation. His hand reaches up to cup your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek as he stares at you, entranced.

"You, lady, have my undivided attention at all times and occupy my every thought." Unfortunately, you can't respond to his comment with something as sweet as Na-Baron's angry, painful scream that echoes from the arena.

Your attention returns to the fight. Na-Baron fights the last opponent, who, surprisingly, is not under the influence of drugs. You watch the fight with curiosity, even more so when you see blood pouring from Na-Baron's side.

"He had to distract himself. So far, he hasn't had any problems fighting him." You hear people commenting around you, but your eyes are focused only on Na-Baron.

You shiver as his gaze wanders towards your box, and it feels like he's looking right at you, making sure you're watching him. You put this idea out of your head. He probably didn't even know your name. He couldn't recognise you; he would definitely show it by now if he did.

You shiver as he lets out a menacing scream and charges at his opponent. His movements are quick, well-aimed and aimed as he delivers slashes, perfectly avoiding the blade of the prisoner he is fighting. You hold your breath as he knocks the blade out of your opponent's hands and stabs him in the stomach several times.

Na-Baron whispers something to the warrior and slowly lowers him to the ground as he draws his last breath. You can't take your eyes off his bloody form. His piercing gaze is still directed towards your lodge as he raises his blade. The crowd in the arena screams, people applaud, and you feel Lord Luwael next to you slowly begin to fall to the ground.

"Lord Luwael!" You scream, attracting the attention of the people around you. Several men help you, and they lift the unconscious lord. They carry him outside, and you want to follow them, but unfortunately for you, the second round of Na-Baron's fight begins, so you can't just leave. So you go back to your seat, thinking hard.

Lord Luwael apparently had another negative trait besides being a hopeless romantic—a firm believer in preserving a strictly traditional, patriarchal system. He fainted at the sight of blood and abhorred violence.

You sigh, wondering how the hell you're supposed to cope with a husband and an emperor who's afraid to draw someone's blood and pick up a sword.

Your gaze falls back on the fighting Na-Baron. If only he was less... Harkonnen... You shake your head at the idea that crossed your mind. No. You are going to become the empress. Nothing could change that plan, and certainly not one night of oblivion and pleasure with a brutal, psychopathic future Baron of a dead planet.

But that doesn't stop you from admiring the way Na-Baron's muscular chest ripples with each rapid breath or the way his muscles twitch with his movements. And unfortunately, you can't stop your thoughts from wandering and imagining him moving into a much more... intimate situation.

"Did she watch the fight?" Feyd asks his servant as the medic stitches up his wound.

He finished the fight a few minutes ago. People were probably starting to gather in the ballroom, but he had to clean up and put things in order before he appeared in public. Before he shows himself to you.

"At first, she was a little distracted by this... lord. But he fainted halfway through Na-Baron's fight, so afterwards her attention was entirely on you, my lord."

"He fainted? Weak spawn. Did she enjoy my performance?" Feyd asks, slightly irritated by the way the medic's fingers are shaking with fear as he tends to the wound.

"She was definitely impressed. I think Na-Baron's decision not to wear the breastplate helped, as did the fact that the guards made sure not to let Lord Luwael into the arena again."

"Very good, you did a great job. Keep it up. I'm going to need you to distract that pet of hers for a while. You can do it, right?"

"Of course, my lord Na-Baron."

"Women like flowers. Those outside Giedi Prime." The medic comments as he finishes stitching up his wound. Feyd looks at him for a moment, then nods at his servant.

"This is a wonderful idea. Order a vase of the rarest flower species to be placed in her chambers. I'll give you a note tonight, after the ball."

Before Feyd finishes his sentence, he already holds the medic's arm and plunges a dagger into his stomach. The man groans in shock as he stares in sheer terror at the Na-Baron.

"Because of you, I'll be late for my own ball." He growls and puts on a black shirt, ignoring the blood on his fingers as he walks out of the infirmary.

He walks through the halls of the palace, hurrying to his chambers to change. His thoughts involuntarily go to you, remembering your intoxicating scent and the softness of your skin under his lips. Damn him if he lets some lesser man have the taste of what is his.

You belonged to him from the moment he killed for you the emperor's dog that tried to bite you. If necessary, he will kill another one to make sure that no man will dare to adore you again.

But Feyd couldn't do it; as much as he dreamed of it, he preferred to gain your... feelings rather than force you to marry him. And maybe he enjoyed the thrill of chasing you, but only as long as his claims for you weren't at risk. And this little... lord was hanging around way too close to you.

He didn't know at all what you saw in this weak man. He wasn't handsome, he couldn't fight, and he couldn't defend you. Certainly not before Feyd. You needed someone strong—someone who wasn't afraid of your true nature or unleashing it. You weren't yourself hanging out with that lord. He watched the two of you closely, and countless times he saw you tighten your hand around a glass, a fan, or in a fist when that lord made a remark that irritated you, but instead of snapping back like you did with Feyd, you smiled falsely sweetly and nodded obediently.

His beautiful, brave swan, instead of hissing at the fools around her, only tried harder to attract them. And this annoyed Feyd immensely. You could be so much more than just a pretty face. You had a character that Feyd admired in you, but instead of showing it with pride, you hid it deep inside, afraid of society's opinion.

You would make a wonderful Baroness. With you by his side, he wouldn't worry about anyone seeing him as weak man. And he himself found worthy company in you during that wonderful night on your planet. If only you hadn't run away from him, hadn't believed the rumours so much, and weren't afraid of him, but rather of what he might do to you, you and Feyd would make a wonderful match.

As he approaches his chamber, he hears the ladies giggling. He decides to hide in a side corridor and wait until the gossiping women leave. But he perks up his ear excitedly when he hears what they're talking about—and that you're among them too.

"Na-Baron put on quite a show. Have you seen these muscles?" Feyd can barely keep from giggling. But he can't help but wonder how you assessed his... muscles.

He did it especially for you—to tease you a little with what you could have had that night if you hadn't run away from him like a scared little mouse. How many nights did he spend dreaming about catching you before that frail lord got you...

"Oh please. He's a cruel brute. Psychopath. Did you see how he treated that poor man? Moreover, most of his opponents were under the influence of drugs."

His hairless eyebrows furrow. He feels his rage rising; he wants to come out of his hiding place and show this royal bitch a real fight, but he knows that his uncle will kill him for laying a hand on the emperor's daughter.

"I'm not surprised at him. After all, he's the next Baron, they won't risk his life for some lame arena show."

"What do you think about it, Lady Y/N?"

Feyd licks his lips, eagerly waiting for your opinion on his fight. His heart beats fast as he wonders what you will say. Will you praise his fighting skills? Appearance? Ruthlessness and brutality? Or maybe you loathe it as much as Princess Irulan does?

He waited nervously, his heart beating fast as he waited impatiently for even one word from you.

"I… think we had a rather… interesting fight anyway. Regardless of the circumstances."

His excitement fades when you limit yourself to such a simple, diplomatic, and natural answer. He doesn't want to hear something like that from you. He wants your opinion; he wants to hear the burning heat in your voice as you express your true thoughts and emotions with great conviction, even if they go against what he wants. He wants your passion—the same passion he has experienced the few times he has had the opportunity to be around you.

"But it's not honorable! How dare they treat prisoners like this?" Irulan growls furiously at you.

"And in your country, how are they treated, my princess? They either end up in a noose or have their heads cut off. Here, maybe being under the influence of drugs isn't the best thing, but at least they have a dignified death for warriors—those who don't fight Na-Baron are fighting in the arena for their freedom and are not under the influence of any substance. I don't think this is the case in many countries. Besides, it boosts morale and entertains the people. Two birds with one stone."

Feyd feels a smirk involuntarily form on his lips. He knew that his little, wise swan would think just like he did. However, I regret that you do not praise his skills as a warrior but only focus on the usefulness of such fights. Next time, he will try harder for you. Maybe he will even give you the heart of the strongest warrior?

"Of course you'll flatter him, Lady Y/N. After all, he clearly has his eyes on you. I saw the way he looked at you the day you arrived—it was clearly love at first sight."

"Oh yes! And I saw him looking across the arena towards your box! He got so distracted by looking at you that one of the prisoners stabbed him in the side! It's so sweet, just like a real romance book."

Feyd freezes for a moment. Was it that obvious? He couldn't, right? Maybe he was accidentally looking for you in the crowd of other people, but... he couldn't be that easy to read, right?

"I would never dream of courting Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, not even in your wildest fantasies my ladies. So maybe let's focus on the real, more likely matches that could happen this season."

At your words, Feyd clenches his hands into fists. How dare you so openly reject his possible advances? It was the best match in the empire. In fact, he could be a future emperor, and he'd damn well do it for you if that was all it took to get his hand in marriage. Seething with rage, his hand involuntarily went to the blade attached to his side. He had to find someone; he had to take it out on someone; but then again, he needed to hear more. Why does the thought that he adores you bother you so much? Did he do something to you? Has he offended you in any way? Was it your reluctance and disgust at the idea of having him as a suitor just because he was a Harkonnen?

"You mean your questionable engagement to my cousin?" Princess Irulan mocks you, fueling Feyd's anger both with the way she speaks to you and with your engagement to that weak piece of flesh wasting air in your presence.

"Why questionable, my princess? I think this would be the perfect match. Lady Whistledown herself devoted several of her paragraphs to it."

Feyd rolls his eyes at you. Have you also read the nonsense of some old lady who was bored enough to comment on events in the world of noble families? And here he thought that his swan was too smart for that...

"My cousin may be stupid and be fooled by a few pretty words and eyes, but he doesn't make rash decisions. He knows what kind of marriage will be best for him. He won't marry someone from a lesser family just because some anonymous writer is having fun spreading rumors."

"Do you have someone special for Lord Luwael in your mind, maybe?"

"I think we all know very well who I mean."

Feyd smiles, and for the first time, he is not hating the princess's existence. If she actually took this weak lord from you, the fight for your hand and heart would be much more enjoyable for him; after all, he wouldn't have to worry that you would marry some other man while he was trying his best to get closer to you. It would definitely make courting you easier if Irulan tried to charm your weak little lord...

"Hmm… possible. But tell us, princess, how's your Bene Gesserit training going? Has the Reverend Mother assigned you any task yet?"

"I believe this is none of your business."

Ah, so you knew. You knew that the Bene Gesserit were planning to marry him to Irulan—something he certainly wouldn't allow. But if he lets you believe it, would you fight for him? Would you try to convince him to stop chasing Irulan? You could. After all, you would see it as a threat to your position as empress. Feyd is curious what lengths you would go to if such a situation occurred—how far would you go in trying to seduce him and leave Irulan?

Feyd is no longer eavesdropping on the rest of your conversation. You pass him, and he quickly sneaks back to his chambers, changing his clothes. His mind races as he wonders what he should do now. And he decides to give you one last chance before he puts his plan into action.

The balls at Gieid Prime are… different from those you usually witness. The ballroom is lit by a thousand candles, the room is kept in semi-darkness, and you are more than convinced that some orgy is taking place somewhere in the corners and recesses of this huge hall.

You are just finishing your dance with Lord Luwael when Feyd-Rautha enters the hall. Na-Baron is greeted with loud applause and cheers. He smiles at the crowd of people, showing a row of night-black teeth. You shiver at the sight. You just don't know if it's out of fear or desire. You realise that every time you think he can't make himself a more terrible monster, he comes in like the bane of your existence and proves you dead wrong.

Oh how you wanted to finally leave Giedi Prime.

"Unfortunately, I think we should wish him a happy birthday. Everyone does it."

You nod at his words, seeing the rest of the guests actually gather around Feyd-Rautha. You place your hand in the crook of his arm and let him guide you towards Na-Baron. The alcohol you managed to drink without your companion's attention and the man's mere presence will give you a bit of courage. Although you know, if a real fight broke out between these two men, the candidate for your husband would probably faint from fear when he saw the first blood and lose it. What a pity he had such an annoying condition...

"Na-Baron. Happy birthday." Your companion says as you reach Feyda-Rautha. His blue, ocean-glacial eyes stare at the two of you, ignoring you for a moment to send an appraising glance towards the man whose arm you're holding. You see a strange tension building in the room between these two...

"Thank you very much, lord…"

"Luwael." He finishes for him, angry that he is not properly recognised and acknowledged by the Na-Baron.

"Ah yes. It slipped out of my mind. Wouldn't you be offended if I took the liberty of asking your lovely partner to dance? It's my birthday, after all." Na-Baron's attention is completely on you, and you wish he and Lord Luwael had spent more time on this little alpha male fight. You open your mouth, ready with an excuse to deny him the dance, but the man next to you speaks first.

"Of course. Enjoy yourself." Na-Baron gives him a smug smirk that only widens when Lord Luwael flinches at Feyd's black teeth.

You suppress a grimace and give your hand to the Harkonnen. He takes your hand with incredible gentleness and leads you to the centre of the room, right onto the dance floor. Before the dancing starts, he has the courage to take off your gloves. You give him a confused look, your heart beating faster, as he leans in to press a kiss on your hand. You shiver as the skin of your hand registers the now familiar shape of his plump lips.

He places his hand on your waist and connects your hand with his, leading you to the rhythm of a rather calm song.

"Such fire… and yet your anger does not reach Lord Luwael. What did he do to deserve this special treatment, my lady? Maybe you're worried about him after he fainted in the arena like some weak, little boy?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about." You say, turning your gaze away from him, wanting to spend the rest of the dance in silence. You keep your eyes peeled for Lord Luwael, but unfortunately, you can't find him anywhere. As if he had evaporated.

"Is it so, little swan?" A cold chill runs through you as you use the nickname for you that he used that night. You feel your world freeze for a moment. He continues to lead you in the rhythm of the dance, allowing himself to pull you a little closer to inhale the scent of your perfume, but you don't notice, terrified of what he told you he knew.

"I... no." You blurt out, trying to control your emotions, and put on the mask of indifference on your face again.

"Well... I guess you know. Your heart beats so fast, almost as fast as that night when I tasted your wonderful nectar straight from the source. You know there's nothing as sweet as your juices?"

"How dare you speak to me like that?!" You growl furiously, unconsciously digging your nails into his palm.

"So she can still hiss! And she even has claws. I remember how sweetly you scratched my neck with them before you ran away like a scared little bird."

"Shut up." You growl, feeling like you're starting to lose control of this whole conversation. And not just conversation. You noticed that you had somehow found yourself outside the ballroom. The music from there reaches you in the form of a gentle hum as it presses you against the wall of one of the empty corridors. You swallow, realising what a sh*t situation you are in.

"Or what? Watch your tone, little swan. It's my birthday. You should be nicer to me. I didn't actually hear you wish me a happy birthday; your little puppet did it for you."

"Unlike some, he is a real gentleman, not a puppet or monster."

"Ah, but we know very well that you don't want a gentleman. A gentleman wouldn't do to you the things I did to you, and we both know how deliciously you moaned under my touch and how you shuddered as my tongue tasted you. Do you think your weak lord can do to you the things I showed you in the darkness of your house planet? That he can satisfy your desire? That he can free you from your shackles of social conventions as I can free you? You need someone bigger than the lesser man. I've already told you that. You won't settle for a man like that."

"You do not know anything about me. One night—not even the whole night—spent under my skirts won't suddenly make you know my true desires. You have changed, Feyd-Rautha. You're not the same boy from the Lankiveil I used to know." He hums thoughtfully at your worlds, watching you carefully and curiously.

"Hmm… maybe you're right, little swan. I think I need to do more to convince you that I am right."

You sigh as his lips press against yours in a frenzied, passionate kiss. You punch his chest, trying to push him away, but he presses hard against you, pinning you against the wall. You feel the toned muscles of his body as he grinds against you, demanding full access to your mouth.

You bite his lip until it bleeds, but that only turns him on more. His strong, large hand cups your breast, squeezing it tightly. You let out a surprised moan, and his tongue somehow finds a way to slip into your open mouth.

The material of your dress tears under his strength; his hands pull your breasts out of your dress and caress them as if his life depended on it. His fingers graze over your sensitive nipples, and you can only moan into his mouth as he sends a warmth straight to your core that reminds you desperately of how his tongue was working so well to release you that you had denied yourself.

You come to the shameful conclusion that maybe you could have let him bring you to orgasm before you ran away from him.

His lips finally leave yours, but you don't enjoy this freedom for long. They move to your neck, licking and nibbling madly, as if someone were about to tear him away from you. And the worst thing about it all is that you don't really know if that's what you want.

You scream as his black teeth dig into your skin, leaving a mark in the crook of your neck. You hear the click of enamel against metal as he accidentally catches your necklace, but he doesn't move away; he just sinks his teeth into it, as if trying to split a diamond in half.

He pulls away from you; you see the blood on his plump lips—your blood—and it only makes you more aroused. His hand slips under your skirts and reaches to your core, caressing you teasingly. You gasp, closing your eyes and throwing your head back.

"Such a good little whore when she gets fingers and a few hickeys on her neck. Does your lord know what a shrew you are until someone kisses the venom from your lips? Does he know what fire burns inside you? Does he know what a wonderful feast you have between your legs for a thirsty man? Does he know you as well as I do? Has he seen how beautiful you look in the whirlwind of passion?"

His every question is punctuated by the rhythm of the thrusting of his fingers. You moan softly, holding back tears of pleasure, as he slowly brings you to the edge. You dig your nails into his shoulders, holding onto him with all your strength as he plays with your clit and sucks hickeys on your breasts.

"So sweet… so soft… so wet. And it's for me. Just for me. For Harkonnen. Say it. Tell me who fucks that little pussy so well with his fingers. Tell me who's driving you crazy. Tell me whose attention you really want, you wanton little bitch, and maybe I'll let you cum, despite the way you treated me… and on my own birthday…"

"I... you... you..." You gasp in rhythm with the thrusts of his fingers.

"Nah. Not like that. My name, beautiful little swan. Scream my name. Exactly the way you should have done that night in the garden." He whispers into your ear, biting the lobe. You moan as his fingers go deeper inside you, and his other hand caresses your breast, playing with your nipple.

"I... ah... Feyd.... Feyd, please..." You cry for him as your hips grind against his hand, seeking the sweet release that only he can give you.

"Yes…just like that…cum for me. Give me my birthday present and shout my name." You can only nod dumbly as you feel him take you over the edge. You bite down hard on his neck, refraining from making any noise as you tighten around his fingers, finally coming.

You gasp, feeling the metallic taste of his black blood on your tongue.

You move away from him as if burned. Your heart beats insanely fast as you stare at him, trying to process what happened. He pulls his finger out of you with a squelch, and you blush furiously. He puts his fingers in his mouth, sucking them. He moans at the taste of you, never breaking eye contact with you.

"Perfect birthday gift. Although I believe I can get more." Just as he moves to kneel between your legs, you hear the voices of the guards patrolling the halls. You push him away from you in panic and run forward, trying to improve your appearance a little.

This time, he's not after you. He didn't make any attempt to chase you. He allows you to traverse the halls of Giedi Prime without the feeling of his breath on your back, but you are very aware that you have miserably lost today's battle against him. He did exactly what he wanted with you and would have gone much further (and unfortunately, you would have let him) if you hadn't sobered up with the possibility of getting caught.

You told yourself that this was what you needed to get over him. After all, forbidden fruit always tasted the best, and once you experienced the Na-Baron's... undoubted skills, you could move on and marry a man who was the absolute opposite of him, a man with whom you didn't have to worry so much about the future, as with Feyd-Rautha.

Yes, this was what you needed—one last affair before the wedding—to make sure you're doing it right. Because what would await you as Na-Baron's wife, or, God forbid, concubine? Nothing good. The Harkonnens were the harbinger of misfortune, suffering, pain, aggression, and, apparently, good sex.

Whatever you and Na-Baron were doing, it had to end now.

"I'm supposed to be his wife?! This barbarian?! You can't do this to me, father! Feyd-Rautha will destroy the empire and plunge us into the blood of war and senseless brutality. He's a psychopath; can't you see it? Surely there must be another way to keep the throne!" Irulan's screams echo throughout the guest wing. Your eyes widen in surprise, the unpleasant pang in your chest only adding to your daze.

So the rumours were true. The emperor wants to give Irulan to Feyd. You don't like this idea very much. If the Harkonnens married into the Corrino family, your right to the throne of Emperor, or rather the right of Lord Luwael, would be in jeopardy. No one stood a chance against them.

You snap out of your daze when you see the door handle to Irulan's chambers begin to move. You quickly run to your room and close the door quietly behind you as you wonder what the hell just happened in these few hours.

You return to your chambers blushing and with a rapidly beating heart. You can still feel Na-Baron's lips vividly on your neck, and you're sure you'll have to cover it tomorrow so no one will see the hickeys that bastard gave you.

How stupid you were again! How could you let him get so close to you again and corner you when you were alone in his territory?! And what's worse, he knew that it was you who went with him to the garden that night; he knew and he wanted more from you...

You shudder as wicked thoughts enter your mind, all because of Na-Baron's tantalisingly absurd whispers. How could you enjoy his attack on you? How could you moan so loudly in a deserted corridor? How could you shout his name and attract the attention of the guards?

You were damn lucky that no one caught you, that Lord Luwael disappeared somewhere, and that he didn't see you giving yourself to this... this monster like a mindless whore. It had to be the alcohol. They must have put something in your drink; you couldn't just... enjoy the touch of a Harkonnen, a Harkonnen who just a few hours ago had slaughtered you in the arena before your eyes and was enjoying it like a little child enjoys a candy... A Harkonnen whose body was ethereal beautifully...

You are snapped out of your thoughts when your mother enters your room in a state of… extreme daze.

"Mother? Have something happened?" You ask her, worried that your little (another) tryst with the Na-Baron might have turned out to be not such a secret at all.

"Lord Luwael just asked for my consent to propose to you. You did very well, Y/N. You will be an empress."

You swallow nervously and smile, nodding your head. Your mother hugs you, and you feel millions of thoughts racing through your head. You will become empress, but only if Irulan and Feyd-Rautha don't marry, and there was only one way to make sure that would happen.

You had to play a game with the devil himself and seduce and deceive him until the day it would be too late for his marriage to Irulan and you and Lord Luwael would take the emperor's throne. But how the hell were you supposed to do that without getting burned?

Taglist: @iloved1lfs0 @heartarianagran

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fandomnerd9602 · 1 month

Text

Only You

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

It all began when your doe-human mate Wanda skipped happily into the kitchen, her mind focused on asking you one singular question.

You were listening to Wanda’s favorite song on your Amazon dot.

Only you can make this world seem right

Only you can make the darkness bright

Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do

And fill my heart with love for only you

“Dance with me, detka!” She giggles as she takes your hand. The two of you sway to the music.

“Detka,” she smiled at you, “will you marry me?”

The question caught you off guard but happily off guard, “y-yes.”

“Good!” Your antler adorned mate hugged you tight and kissed you gently. “I want to marry you.”

“When do you want to tie the knot?”

“Tie the knot? Why would we do that? I wanna marry you.” She giggles, thinking that you were making some weird joke.

You and her didn’t talk about it much on the way to the Sanctuary but you found Wanda happily running around to the other hybrids, telling them the good news.

“I’m getting married! I’m marrying my amazing mate!!” She practically ran all the way around the Sanctuary grounds.

Natasha was practically laughing her wolf tail off as Wanda ran in. “I heard.” The red head wolf hybrid laughed, “can I be your maid of honor?”

“Sure!” Wanda giggles.

“Why do you suddenly want to be married?”

“I love my detka and I want to marry them.” Wanda found herself wistfully explaining. “I wanna spend my life with Y/N, I want to go to sleep in their arms every night, I wanna…”

“What?” Natasha’s tail wagged, “come on buddy, you can tell me”

“I want to have little deer babies.”

“Oh you scandalous doe!” Natasha giggled, earning a blush from Wanda.

“But I don’t know if I’m ready for kids yet” Wanda’s tail dropped a little, she sits down on her friend’s bean bag chair, “I still miss my boys”

Natasha gets down on her knees and hugs her friend tight. “Take your time. There’s no need to rush into a marriage. (Y/N) loves you and will understand”

Wanda couldn’t help but smile.

Meanwhile you took an early lunch and went with Yelena to a jewelry store you had your eye on.

“Why did you ask me to come with you and not sestra?” The blond wolf hybrid bemoaned.

“Because Natasha is with Wanda and I don’t want my mate to know what I’m up to. And I need you to keep watch as I browse the store.” You stepped into the store as Yelena kept watch.

You found the perfect ring. It was a gold band designed to look like interlocking vines and leaves with a simple diamond adorned at its center. You were just about to purchase it when suddenly Yelena tackled you to the ground.

“They’re here!” Yelena dragged you behind some tables. You looked under the table to see a familiar pair of legs and tails walking into the shop.

Natasha and Wanda walked in, happy as could be.

“Which one says I want to be your forever mate?” Wanda asked as she approached the wedding bands section.

“Any one of them, that’s the whole point.” Natasha smirked before a familiar scent caught her nostrils. You and Yelena.

She dropped to her knees and came face to face with the two of you. You gestured for her to stay quiet.

“What are you…you were gonna buy a ring?!” Natasha whisper-yelled, kind of happy and excited too. You hold up the ring you selected, Natasha smirked, “oh that’s very lovey but I don’t like you that way.”

“Steer her to another store, Fifi!” Yelena retorted.

“Fifi? Funny coming from you, sestra!” The two wolf sisters began fighting. You silently separated them.

“Gals, please this is the love of my life and I don’t want to ruin her special moment” you quietly begged them.

“I found it! The perfect engagement ring!!” Wanda called out with a giddy laugh.

Natasha quickly ran over and saw a simple band that looked like two antlers intertwined. Wanda looked to her friend with pleading eyes. Natasha peeked back to be sure that you didn’t see it. You could not.

“I-I don’t have any…” Wanda began to say.

Natasha gave a wave of her hand, “I’ll cover it.”

“Thank you” Wanda hugged her wolf pal tight.

“Just name your first daughter after me” Natasha said jokingly.

“Deal!”

The two bought the ring and left. You and Yelena got up from your hiding spot and approached the register. The cashier was practically laughing, “I take it your gal had the same idea?”

“Great minds,” you shrugged. Yelena stifled a laugh.

An hour or so later, Wanda was back in her friend’s den on the Sanctuary grounds, admiring the ring.

“Now you just need to find the perfect time to propose” Natasha smiled.

The sound of an aux cord plugging in caught Natasha’s wolf ears.

Only you can make this world seem right

Only you can make the darkness bright

Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do

And fill my heart with love for only you

Wanda rose from her seat, tears beginning to form in her eyes. It was yours and her song. Natasha peered out the den’s entry and smiled.

“You might wanna see this,” her wolf pal smiled.

Wanda walked out to see the Sanctuary gazebo decorated in Edison bulb lights and roses. Against the setting Sun, it looked heavenly.

And there under the gazebo roof was you, standing there with a smile on your face.

Wanda walked up the gazebo stairs slowly, tears of joy flowing down her face. You took her hands in yours.

“I love you Wanda Maximoff” you began. “I wanna spend each and every day of the rest of my life with you”

Wanda giggled.

“I wanna hold you when you’re hurting. And kiss you when you need a little love. I wanna raise a family with you and I wanna be there for you when we find your boys. And I’m gonna love you and them forever.”

“I love you.” Wanda whispered, “forever and ever”

You got to your knees and produced the ring, Wanda gasped. “Wanda, my doe, my love, my mate, will you marry me?”

Wanda got to her knees and pulled out the ring she got for you, “only if you will marry me”

“Yes” you smiled, tears forming in your own eyes.

“Yes!” She cries back. “Yes! Yes! You and only you!!!”

You slide the ring on her finger and she slides the ring on yours. A feeling of pure happiness takes over Wanda as she launches herself at you, knocking you to the wooden floor. She kisses you repeatedly, over and over, giggling against your lips as you held her tight.

The staff and other hybrids laughed and cheered as the two of you found each other lost in your moment. Natasha smiled and her tail swished back and forth happily.

It all started with a simple question. And it turned into a moment that you and Wanda would treasure forever. And you’d eventually tell it to Billy and Tommy: the tale of how you and Wanda ended up proposing to each other.

Tags @lifespectator @russianredassassin @revanshand @julieromanoff @multi-fandom-enjoyer @family-house-of-m @holiday-house-of-m @iiconicsfan25 @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7

#marvel #marvel fluff #marvel imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #elizabeth olsen #bambi #bambi doe #Bambi Wanda #hybrid Wanda #scarlet witch #the scarlet witch

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dykells · 1 year

Text

𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐈𝐙𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 | 𝐀.𝐀

𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✷ she hopes im cursed forever to sleep on a twin sized mattress never graduating up in size to add another 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,1k ✷ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: religion, homophobia n’ nsfw content

abby feels owen’s hand on her waist like a brick to her chest weighting her body down, it wouldn’t take much for the drowning to begin but your face across the room was both oxygen and the final anchor of her demise. she weighed her options as their personifications stood before her, father smiling brightly at the happy couple unaware his own daughter forced her chirpiness while she yearned in the deepest aching to be swept off her feet by the girl just a few away– who now refused to face her much understandably. you cursed her for inviting you to their preppy engagement party, cursed her for multiple reasons more, yet your heels stuck to the ground like they clung for dear life anticipating a plot twist shaped by regret.

“excuse me” she finally croaked out mid conversation, the place where her fiancé’s hand once held onto now burning her skin like a rotting poison. she wished to bathe herself clean in the rain like a baptism, wished owen didn’t felt like sin tainting her body from being with you, her holiest of experiences, wished she had not known heaven between your legs so she may live on her life guiltless and not as someone who has felt blasphemously like a god herself. your fingers brush past eachother as she walks up behind you and fireworks bloom from your fingertips like lily flowers at spring. lillies, her favorite, your perfume.

you follow her to the bathroom, breath unsteady, and regardless of how long the affair has been happening no familiarity prepares you for the crash of her lips against yours as you twist the doorknob. sometimes you think these moments might make you understand her, to have abby anderson’s tongue exploring your mouth, hands by your neck to keep you still, perpetual apple cinnamon smell, was nothing short of a religious experience. perhaps that is what the church brought out in her, this same inextinguishable fire at the pit of your stomach with understanding of icarus and his hope for the sun. if all sins felt this sweet it did not seem so big of a sacrifice to die for them– you’d die for her if asked.

“abs, stop” you whisper once her lips are on your neck, long wet kisses all across the exposed skin warming up your body from the winter cold better than any cloth could have, she’s hungry, biting you down and her fruity scent doesn’t let the irony of forbidden fruit to die on you even as she hums in fake confusion allowing herself more time in her feast begging it to cloud your judgement as it almost does “abigail, we have to stop”

“don’t do this to me” she begs, voice cracking “please don’t leave me, you’ll take all the sunshine with you and it’s cold, it’s a cold winter i need your arms, your limbs, your body, my sunny girl-“

“you’re getting married, abs” you sigh with the exclamation, it seems nearly as though you’ve just reminded her of it like someone who forgot to turn off the oven before they had left the house, someone destined for burnt flames, your reality scares her into kneeling submission and you’re laughing because it looks like a proposal and it’s absurd, her hands gripping yours, her gaze doe-eyed and unconditional. you are missing a ring but you see hers, diamond, and the ache doesn’t easen.

“you are everything that i want…”

“then leave him, abby. don’t sit on the dirty bathroom floor of a venue for your engagement party and promise me a love you are too scared to give me, i can’t keep excusing your cowardice for the sake of sanity. take off that ring and walk out of here with me, we’ll figure it out, we’ll be happy together, your winter won’t be cold”

she pretends to take in your words, analyse them as if her nights haven’t been filled with scenarions and possibilities all of which there is pain unbearable. you’re searching her eyes with a hope unbeknownst to men and suddenly you feel the line between dream and desperation blurring itself into oblivion. abby lets go of your touch and slides the ring from her finger out onto it’s demise on the tiled floor. you think you won. you think god exists when she locks the door behind you and presses you against the wall, believe he had heard your prayers once her fingers dip between your thighs. when she’s thrusting inside you, you cry out for god instead of her name, moan louder at the sight of her wedding band far away on the ground, feel your walls clenching around her digits and her warm breath against your neck, she’s mumbling so many i love yous you barely notice how multiple sound like im sorrys.

with your hands curling around her loose hair she gets sloppy, deprived, wants you to tug on her and beg for her mouth without needing the plead to taste you and you do so eager it burns her scalp. she’s back on her knees and she thinks for a moment not admited this might be her holy repent. tugging on your jeans till their ultimate glide towards the floor, shes sucking on the wet patch of your underwear as a tease, letting her senses flood of lillies and pussy. she finally pushes it aside and dives in, godhood in the shape of your swollen clit grazing her teeth, you tilt your waist to give her further access and there are stars and angels behind your fluttered eyelids.

she calls your her sunny girl as you rain down her face in white honey, her muscles spread your legs further apart and suck it in till it has destroyed her makeup, part of her wishes to leave this bathroom and still smell of you, part of her is scared owen might kiss your heavens from her tongue and catch it all. she’s putting her ring back on at your climax, and you’re confused and heavy breathing. a sob clings to your throat.

abby tells you all she’s ever known is the cold. tells you girls like her are unworthy of the sun. tells you owen is waiting and maybe you should leave. she doesn’t tell you she thinks god isn’t real once you’ve turned your back because he would never have created something to purely magnetic to have it ripped from her hands, she does not tell you the only thing worth worshipping is the gap between your teeth, the crook of your neck and the dimple in your cheek, doesn’t tell you she thinks hell is this. but she almost does. she almost does. on your way out, you just sob and hope she’s cursed. hope god is angry. think god is her.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson angst #abby anderson smut #lesbian #the last of us fanfiction #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby x you #abigail anderson #dykells works #wlw fiction #abby x fem!reader

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ninii-winchester · 12 days

Text

Behind Closed Doors (Part 4)

Pairing : Boss!Dean Winchester X Assistant!Reader

Word count : 1.2k

Warnings: a lot of angst, reader says demeaning things about herself, language, not proofread.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

“It’s alright I’m his fiancée.” Y/n really wanted to scoff at the woman’s claim but then her gaze fell to the woman’s left hand. Her ring finger was adorned with a ring, a single sapphire gleamed at the center, encased by tiny diamonds. That was the kind of ring she’d seen in Mrs. Winchester’s finger. That was same kind of ring that she’s seen in Sam’s fiancée, Jess’ finger on multiple occasions. It was the Winchester family’s traditional heirloom, passed down through generations, a symbol of their legacy. She then looked at her own and realised that any one would believe this woman over her, if she ever claimed to be Dean’s fiancée. Y/n felt a lump forming in her throat but she took a deep breath and cleared her throat before speaking,

“I understand, however I can’t let you go in without permission, it’ll risk my job.” She forced a smile. “I’ll let him know you’re here.” She added gesturing to the door and to her relief the woman nodded in agreement.

Y/n knocked on the door while the woman sat on the waiting couch, Dean’s voice was heard from behind the door as he gave permission to enter. She went inside the room and Dean looked delighted to see her, but his smile faltered when he noticed her expression.

“Mr Winchester, there’s someone waiting for you outside but she doesn’t have an appointment. Shall I send her in?” She said monotonously and he furrowed his brow.

“Who is it?” Dean asked curiously.

“Your fiancée.” She said calmly and his eyes widened in surprise. He opened and closed his mouth multiple times unable to form a coherent reply. He understood the look on her face when she first entered the room. When he didn’t reply for a few minutes she added, “I’ll send her in.” With that, she left.

Dean was quick on his feet and followed her out the room and his gaze landed on the woman sitting on the couch. The woman stood up and swiftly made her way towards him.

“Dean!!” She exclaimed happily throwing her arms around his neck.

“Rachel? What are you doing here?” He asked and Y/n watched the scene unfold in front of her eyes. So he did know her. She wanted to look away from them but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the couple and she desperately wished she did when she saw Rachel peck his lips. She grimaced before turning back to the computer screen holding back the tears that were threatening to spill.

"I thought we could get lunch together," she said, her voice soft with a hint of hope.

“I’m busy!” Dean replied tersely. He didn’t want to have lunch with her, he wanted her to leave as soon as possible so he could explain to Y/n. So he could gather her in his arms and tell her she’s the only one and this a misunderstanding.

“Some other time?” Rachel asked and Dean nodded not wanting to create a scene. He was expecting her to throw a fit and demand his attention but he was surprised that she agreed so easily. Rachel turned to leave but then she stopped at Y/n’s desk, “Oh, you’re engaged too?” She said to Y/n excitedly pointing to her ring her. “Congratulations.” She smiled.

“Oh this?” Y/n replied showing her hand to her, “I’m not engaged.” She said softly and Rachel’s face turned to one of confusion. “I deal with businessmen on a daily basis and rich men think they can make me their mistress because I’m just a secretary. So this keeps them away.” She explained, glancing at Dean who was seething beside Rachel. Hah take that Winchester.

“That’s so inappropriate and just unacceptable. Dean, You shouldn’t do business with such people.” Rachel told Dean and he nodded, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. “I’ll get going but—” She looked at name plate on her desk, “Y/n, don’t hesitate to tell Dean if anyone does it again.”

“I won’t. Thank you.” She smiled at the redhead. Y/n wished this woman was a cunning bitch, it would’ve been easy to hate her. But at this moment this moment the only person she hates is someone she swore to Love for the rest of her life. Rachel reciprocated the gesture and kissed Dean on the cheek before taking her leave.

“Inside. Now.” Dean growled at Y/n and turned on his heels to go back to his office. Y/n rolled her eyes before following him inside. She watched him pace back and forth, his jaw clenched. “What the fuck was that?” He asked in a dangerously low tone.

“She’s beautiful. Perfectly matches with you.” Y/n commented.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you behaving like this?” Dean snapped.

“I’ve never been a mistress before. I don’t know how they act.” She replied crossing her arms and Dean was sure he’d have steam coming out of his ears. He was fuming. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him.

“Call yourself that one more time and I’m not sure what I’ll do.” He challenged making her scoff.

“Drop the act Dean. I can’t believe you went this far to keep the ruse.” She said gesturing to the ring on her finger. She went to remove it from her finger but he pulled her hand away.

“Don’t you dare.” Dean growled. “She’s not my fiancée, you are.” He yelled not caring if anyone heard.

“Really? And who knows that except you and me?” She asked rhetorically and Dean didn’t have an answer because she was right. “One look at the ring on her finger and anyone could tell she’s a Winchester woman.” She exclaimed.

“That’s.. it’s complicated.” Dean looked away breathing heavily. He didn’t want her to find out this way. He had hoped to handle the mess before she found out, but here he was now, in an even deeper disaster. She glared at him and moved past him to leave but he stopped her. “Baby please don’t do this.” He said softly.

“You have a meeting in five, Mr. Winchester.” Was all she said before she left.

Y/n beelined towards the women’s room and broke down finally. She leaned against the sink, her reflection distorted by the tears streaming down her cheeks. Her usually immaculate appearance was in disarray; her blouse was wrinkled, and her carefully styled hair was now a tangled mess. Her eyes, red and swollen, stared vacantly at the mirror as if trying to make sense of the shattered image before her.

Her breath hitched as she tried to steady herself. She clenched and unclenched her fists, the sharp edge of her engagement ring digging into her palm, a small distraction from the overwhelming hurt, but a stinging reminder at the same time. She quickly removed it from her hand and pocketed the ring. She really wanted to flush it down the toilet but it was expensive and she wanted to return it to Dean. She’d decided that she’d only talk to him if he comes clean about the situation or it’s the end of whatever they had.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

@blackcherrywhiskey @ladysparkles78 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @graywrites5567

@thelittlelightinthedarkess @enamoredwithbella @winchesterwild78 @myuhh8

@10ava01

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luvrrszn · 1 year

Text

pov

MIGUEL O'HARA x FEM READER

summary miguel o'hara is in love with you. so hopelessly in love with you. (spoiler alert: you are, too.)

warnings fluff, pure tooth-rotting fluff, just a bunch of blurbs put together, NOT proofread

a/n feeling peaceful 2day love u all xx (p.s. wrote this listening to "pov" by ariana)

masterlist

mornings with miguel o'hara can only be described using one word: peace.

you'd never think that "peace" would be a word associated with miguel o'hara, but once you've experienced what you have, you wouldn't see it any other way.

miguel is protective of his mornings with you. being such a busy man, mornings with you are sacred.

"can we sleep in a little longer?" you mumble against his chest, almost every morning. his answer is always the same: "of course, my dear."

how could he ever say no to you?

—

you set your phone down on the kitchen island as you go to grab a glass of water. miguel's gaze leaves his laptop as he glances at your phone screen.

your phone was left unlocked, an instagram post of your high school classmate with a gigantic diamond ring displayed on it. miguel asks you, "mi corazón, does it bother you? we have been together for 8 years, and no ring."

"hmm, not really, miggy. does it bother you?" you reply, setting your glass down as you approach miguel.

"no, but if you did, it would be understandable."

you walk closer to him and he wraps an arm around your waist. you settle down on his lap and stroke his hair, saying, "i don't need a ring to prove that i love you. ring or no ring, we both know that i am yours, forever."

—

you wake up to the sound of giggling and a thud of something falling to the floor. you drag yourself out of bed and down the stairs. your daughter is giggling as she runs around the living room, being chased by miguel who's holding a...bottle of pink glitter?

a chair at the dining table has toppled over, the culprit behind the "thud" you heard earlier. the dining table has a piece of A3 drawing paper on it, covered in pink glitter glue, light pink sequins and dark pink and purple fairy dust. you've never seen so much pink in your life.

"the glitter monster is coming for you!" you hear miguel call out. you turn around just in time to see miguel pick up your daughter and carry her over his shoulder. she giggles, "papá, put me down!"

you look at the line of photo frames on top of the fireplace, a mere representation of the time that has passed since you first met miguel o'hara

there's a photo of you and miguel in a dark, crowded bar. the night you two met.

there's also photo of you and miguel in front of the eiffel tower. the night of your 5th anniversary.

there's a photo of you and miguel in a chapel in vegas, both of you grinning, his arm slung over your shoulder. the night the two of you were married by an elvis impersonator.

there's also a photo of you in the hospital, miguel grinning next to you, and the most perfect baby girl bundled in your arms. the night your baby girl entered the world.

last but not least, there's a photo of you and miguel slightly hunched forward, with your daughter in between the two of you, holding a huge bouquet and grinning. the day of her very first dance recital.

by the end of the day, your little angel's pink artwork takes its place above the fireplace, joining the array of photo frames.

#📓—juniwrites #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o'hara fluff #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman atsv #atsv #across the spider-verse #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x reader

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 7 months

Note

for a prompt? 3 words sugar mommy agatha... perhaps ✨️feelings✨️ are involved fluff? smut? idk (sorry this is vague)

Please Mommy?

Sugar Mommy!Agatha Harkness x Sugar baby!fem!reader

Summary: You're such a good girl for Mommy and good girls get rewarded.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, R calls A Mommy, A calls R Princess, Fingering, strap use, degradation, Agatha teasing you while on the phone, oral fixation

Word count: 1.4K

A/N: This honestly felt so sweet to write~

Your eyes sparkled as you looked through the window of a shop on Broadway. You were looking at all the pretty rings they had you’d always loved to accessories with rings adorning your fingers. Your tongue poked out ever so slightly as you smiled looking over the different rings, they had a whole line of Disney princess inspired rings and before you could even ask you felt an arm around your waist, a small squeak coming out of you as she pulled you against her.

“See something you like princess?” You smiled up at her, she loved seeing you so happy. The two of you had started this relationship close to a year ago and at first you were hesitant to ask for things. Soon enough though you became more comfortable with outright asking and Agatha had no problem saying no if she felt you didn’t deserve something.

Today the two of you were out because Agatha had been away and you had been so well behaved in her absence that she promised she’d treat you to a special day.

“They just have so many pretty rings Mommy!” You turned your attention back to the rings glistening in the sunlight. You looked over all of them and then one caught your eye, it was a ring that wasn’t closed a round diamond on one side and the other was a tetragonal. “Ooo Mommy that one!” You called out excitedly. She followed your finger and smiled.

“Okay princess let’s go inside and get you one your size.” You did a little wiggle in happiness at the prospect of getting a new ring.

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After many hours of being out in Time Square you and Agatha arrived back at her home, well it was slowly becoming yours as well little bits of you littered everywhere from throw blankets, to clothes, to your Nintendo switch.

Before Agatha could even stop you you were wiggling out of your ‘outside’ clothes and into one of her shirts that looked more like a night gown on you as you curled yourself up on the couch ready to recharge your social battery.

“Did you have a good time princess?” Agatha asked taking care of the mess you left behind knowing now wasn’t the time to reprimand.

“Yes Mommy thank you for everything.” You responded with a yawn.

“I think it’s nap time darling. Close your pretty eyes now Mommy will wake you up soon.” You gave a sleepy smile as you closed your eyes.

You sat up, rubbing your eyes calling out, “Mommy?” You got no response as you looked around. Grumbling you got up bringing your blanket with you. As you headed upstairs towards her office you could hear her talking on the phone with someone which explains why she didn’t answer. You slip your way into her office and she smiles at you gesturing you to come over.

You happily make your way over leaving your blanket on the couch she has in her office to sit her her lap. You happily sit there playing with a fidget she keeps on her desk for you as she carries on her conversation until you feel her hand move onto your thigh. You look back, but she moves her hand to face you back forward, moving her hand back to your thigh. She rubs and squeezes soon enough pushing her fingers against your clothed and very wet cunt. You have to bite your lip to keep quiet.

She lets her fingers slip past your panties, running through your slick folds, kissing your shoulder blade gently as she pushes two fingers into you making you gasp and cover your mouth. You didn’t want her to stop and if you got too loud where the person she was talking with could hear you she’d leave you like that for the rest of the night.

You slowly moved your hips against her fingers which she so graciously allowed you. Small whimpers and mewls falling past your lips as she carried on teasing you as she continued her conversation and you could only hope it would end soon. If you didn’t ask for permission you weren’t allowed to cum. You could feel it building up so nicely and that’s when you heard it,

“Alright this was a productive call. We’ll carry out with it on Monday Wanda. I’ll see you then. Buh-bye dear.” Before you could think Agatha stood up, bending you over her desk, fingers pumping in and out of you roughly.

“Ahhh Mommy!” You squeaked out.

“Such a little slut, you were already so wet for Mommy. Did it turn you on that I was on the phone? That she might hear you?” Agatha teased, gripping her other hand into your hair, pulling roughly as you let out a loud moan.

“Yes Mommy! Yes! I was good though! She didn’t hear me!”

“That’s right princess she didn’t which means you get to cum.” Suddenly her fingers left you, you whined at the loss. “Shhh don’t worry Mommy is going to fill you up.” You perked up, looking behind you to see her pulling out your favorite thick purple strap that you had picked out.

“Mmmm please Mommy!” You wiggled your butt making her chuckle.

“Such good manners princess, but Mommy was already giving it to you. No need to beg more.” She spoke as she lined herself up, slowly pushing into you until she bottomed out and you you feel the fake cock fill you up completely as you moaned out. “You can cum whenever you want princess you’ve been so good all day for Mommy.”

“Thank you Mommy! Thank you!” You cried out as she pounded into you until you’re tightening and cumming around her strap. You fall back against the desk. Slowly she pulls out and this time you groan at the loss as you clench around nothing.

“Shhh Mommy’s got you Princess. Let’s go get you a nice bubble bath.” You nod dumbly as she helps get you up and cling onto her as she gets the bath ready. Once you two are in the bath you search for her hand until you find it. She already knows what you’re looking for as she holds out her pointer and middle finger. You let your lips wrap around them, sucking gently.

“You are my precious little princess, you know that?” She asks softly and you nod, leaning back against her, closing your eyes.

“I love you Mommy...” You mumble hesitantly. Feelings weren’t supposed to be a thing and yet here you were saying the ultimate phrase. You couldn’t help it, it was the truth and Mommy always encourages you to tell the truth. She was quiet for a moment. She tapped lightly on your tongue, her signal for you to release and as much as you didn’t want to you did. You let her fingers go and she tilted your face back towards her as she pulled you into a soft kiss.

“Say that again.” She husked against your lips, kissing you again and again until you let the words slip out once more. This time against her lips,

“I love you Mommy.”

“Again.”

“I love you.” The kisses didn’t stop, you were pulled into her, completely pressed against her,

“Again.”

“I love you Agatha.” You heard and felt her moan into the kiss at the use of her name. You rarely used it anymore, but now felt like a moment to use it.

“I love you Princess. I love you Y/N.” She pulled away and looked you in the eyes. “I know we said no feelings, but how could I not fall for a precious little thing like you Princess?” Agatha smiled and kissed you again.

“I couldn’t ask for a better Mommy...you’re so good to me all of the time even when I’m a brat. How could I not love someone as loving and caring as you Mommy?”

The two of you spent a little extra time in the tub that night. The water going cold before you two finally stepped out. Agatha got you put into a new pair of panties and a different shirt of hers that you proudly wore. You loved being hers and she loved knowing you were hers. The two of you cuddled up under the sheets as you sucked on her fingers and she gave you kisses on top of your head until both of you fell asleep.

#ley speaks #ley writes #ley requests #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha harkness #sugar Mommy!Agatha #sugar baby!Reader

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holylulusworld · 1 year

Text

Two can play a game

Summary: Your arranged marriage is far from perfect. When Ransom takes one step too far, you pay him back the best way possible.

Pairing: Mafia!Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader, ???!Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, arranged marriage, Ransom being an asshole, cheating, implied cheating, mentions of sidepieces, making out, implied smut, mafia au

There he is, licking whipped cream off some bimbos’ tits. The woman moans and fakes she’s having fun. Just like some many greedy bitches wanting to get their hands on his wealth before.

Ransom Drysdale. Your husband. The self-declared gift to all women.

At the beginning of your arranged marriage, you easily overlooked his flaws and quirks. He was a good-looking and charming man, easily working his way into your heart and between your legs.

Ransom was passionate and sweet. Even if he was a little too cocky and arrogant for your taste. He was a prick to most people, including your friends. The only person he treated with respect was you.

Back then you believed this arranged marriage can work out.

Sometimes you even felt loved by your husband. And you reflected his feelings.

But all good things come to an end.

Your little bubble burst when you walked in on him railing one of the new maids. He didn’t even try to hide his infidelity. Proud of himself for leading you on, and making you believe you are more than a pawn to him.

Ransom declared your marriage is not a real marriage. Arranged marriages don’t count in his opinion. That’s what he said. His poor excuse for cheating on you.

Since that day, you refuse to sleep in the same room with him. Just like you didn’t let him touch you. The thought of riding the same dick he pushed into some bitch’s cunt was enough to leave your pussy dry most of the time when it comes to your husband.

“Oh, my beloved wife,” Ransom lifts his head from his latest conquest’s tits.

“Does she want to join us?” The girl squeaks as her eyes land on you.

Ransom grins, but you ignore the little pang in your chest. “Ah, better not. She’s frigid, you know.” He says to the girl he has on top of your kitchen counter.

“When you are done here, call someone to get rid of the kitchen counter. You never know where your little skank was before you found her on the sidewalk,” you snap at your husband.

He watches you open the fridge to get a bottle of water. “If you would excuse us now,” he grunts. “Or do you want to watch?” Ransom tries to rile you up. It’s a fight for dominance and you won’t lose it.

“Sorry, but limp dicks don’t do it for me, honey,” you bite back. “I’ll talk to our neighbor. He invited me over to talk about the next book we want to read. At least he’s got good taste.”

“See. That’s why I prefer fucking hot women like Cassie.”

“My name is Kathy,” the blonde protests. “Did you already forget my name?” She frowns deeply. “Ran?”

“He didn’t even listen when you told him your name.” You walk out of the kitchen, sway in your hips. “If you go home with Ransom Drysdale, you are destined to get disappointed. In any way. He doesn’t even know where to find your G-spot, and he won’t try to find it …

“Y/N, hey,” Andy smiles widely when you stand in front of his door. It happens ever so often since you found out about Ransom’s infidelity. “Bad day?”

You sniff and shake your head. “Do you have a drink with my name on it, Andy?” He opens the door wider to let you in. Andy doesn’t ask what happened. He waits for you to talk to him.

“Always, neighbor.” He closes the door behind you. “What can I offer to you.”

“Distraction, and maybe a place to stay for the night,” you lick your lips. “Ransom has company.” Your eyes drop to the diamond ring on your finger.

“He brought one of his sidepieces to your home,” Andy sounds almost shocked. Almost… “Why would he do such a thing?”

“He likes to play games.” You shrug. “I refused to play along and let him fuck me after I found out about his harem of bimbos. If only he was at least a himbo with a big dick.”

Andy nods thoughtfully when you finally explode.

“I had to let my doctor check me for STDs. Can you imagine how I felt? I’m married and ask them to run all the tests. I bet they believed I’m the one who cheated!” You start to pace the room. “I haven’t looked at another man.”

“Y/N, you need to take deep breaths,” Andy softly speaks to you.

He looks at you with soft blue eyes, and fuck, he looks so good. Did he always look so good?

“No. I need to get this out.” You raise your hand. “I-I was always faithful. I could’ve fucked countless guys, but I didn’t. Because that’s not who I am, Andy.”

“I know. You’re a good girl,” he replies, making you stop in your tracks.

He looks at you, eyes drifting toward your lips. You take a breath, and another before you grab his face to kiss him. Andy doesn’t hesitate. He eagerly kisses you back.

Damn, he tastes even better. Like mint, and the coffee he drank. You cup the back of his neck and run your free hand over his back. He moans into you, tongue delving into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he wraps his arms around you and kisses you again. This time, he suckles at your tongue. “You taste so good.”

He laughs against you. “You too,” Andy nips at your lips. “Do you want this? I don’t want to take advantage of you. We can just talk a little and…”

You silence his doubts with your lips. “I wanted you the moment you moved in across the street four years ago.”

“Same,” he pants between kisses. “But you were married, and I was freshly divorced.” You grab the hem of his shirt, shoving it up to his arms. “Fuck, you looked so cute in your summer dress.”

“Yeah?” You whine as he buries his face in your neck. He kisses your skin, nipping and licking your sweet spot while you hastily unbuckle his belt. “What did you want to do with me?”

“Fuck you until you can’t walk straight.” Andy shoves his pants down his legs, stepping out of them.

“Just like right now?”

You gasp when he grips your hips to hoist you up and slam you into the wall, causing a few picture frames to drop to the ground.

Andy doesn’t seem to mind. He crushes his lips onto yours, kissing you passionately. You moan into his mouth and wrap your legs around his waistline.

“Right now,” he growls against you. All softness is gone when he looks at you pressed against the wall. “I wanna ruin you for him.”

“Ruin me. Make me yours,” you challenge. You allow him to grind his erection against your core and offer your body to him. All you want in return is to forget about your unfaithful husband.

“If you let me have you, I won’t allow you to go back to him. You’ll be mine,” Andy warns. “Name what you want.”

You whimper at his words. Ransom never asked what you want. No one ever did.

“You.” You breathlessly reply. “I want you. Make me forget about him.”

You roll to your side, smiling as your eyes land on the man next to you. Still, you hold your breath. What if this wasn’t the best idea you ever had?

What if he regrets what happened last night?

What if he breaks his promises and forgot about all the things he said to you while he claimed your body?

Andy dips his head to look at you. “Morning beautiful.” He rolls to his side to look at you. “Slept well?”

“Yeah,” you don’t know why your voice trembles. Maybe because you fear Andy is the same as your unfaithful husband. He seems so different from the prick you are married to, but you let a pretty face and charming personality fool you once.

Andy runs his hand over your arm, fingertips tickling your skin. “What do you want to do today?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. Honestly, after last night everything has changed. You only came to Andy’s house to seek shelter for a few hours, or one night.

Now that you gave in to your feelings, you cannot go back to Ransom and pretend it doesn’t break you to see how less you mean to him.

“How about we go to your house, deliver the divorce papers I prepared while you were sleeping, and pack your things? I’ll bring a few friends to help you carry the heavy stuff.”

You’re taken aback. “What?” Stammering you look at Andy who lovingly cups your cheek to press a soft kiss on your lips. “Andy, this isn’t funny. I need to think about what to do now. You don’t know my husband. He’s a prick, but also dangerous and he won’t let me walk out on him so easily.”

“You think I care?” Andy chuckles darkly. “Oh, beautiful. I told you that you are going to be mine when you let me, have you. Didn’t I?”

“Yes.” You remember vividly how you begged him to make you his, and only his. That you agreed to become his pretty little wife, and always cum for him. “That was in the heat of the moment. Wasn’t it?”

“Y/N, I dreamed of taking you out for years. Every time I wanted to ask you to leave your husband, you told me about him with so much adoration that I couldn’t make a move. But now that I know he fucked up, I can’t miss the chance.”

“Andy, I can’t end my marriage only to become someone else’s arm candy or his most prized possession. I’m not a toy, nor a brainless doll you can use.”

“Baby, I swear this isn’t how I see you,” Andy presses another soft kiss on your lips. “Let me help you. If you don’t want to be with me, I understand. All I want is to make sure that Ransom Drysdale leaves you the fuck alone.”

“Why?” You question.

“Because,” he kisses you again, slow and gentle, “I think I love you…”

“Y/N, what’s the douche from next door doing at my house,” Ransom follows you and Andy. “I’m talking to you!”

“Oh, I thought as you are busy disappointing one of your playthings with your limp dick,” you snap at Ransom. “I can bring a real man to satisfy my needs too.”

“Beautiful, why don’t you go upstairs and look for all the things you want to take with you? My friends will be here any minute.”

“Okay,” you nervously glance at Ransom. “Be careful. He’s dangerous.”

“Don’t worry, baby,” Andy pecks your cheek. “I’ll be careful.”

Turning his head toward Andy your husband’s features darken. “If you touched my wife, you are dead.” He pats the gun hidden under his jacket. “If you leave my house now, I’ll only break every bone in your body.”

Andy laughs into Ransom’s face.

“You’ve got no clue who I’m.” Stepping toward your husband, Andy sizes Ransom up. “Do you honestly believe you are scaring me? You’re nothing but a pathetic man cheating on his beautiful wife and,” Andy leans closer to Ransom to whisper in his ear. “I’m long enough in town to know that you are not on top of the food chain any longer. Your time is running out.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about!”

“The deal last week,” Andy smirks darkly, “the one you couldn’t seal? I took it over. Your business partners are my partners now. Your wife. Is mine. Your friends, mine too. I dismantled Ransom Drysdale piece by piece.”

“Why? How?”

“At first, I moved in next door to check your territory out. But then, I saw your wife and the way you treated her. She didn’t know you were a piece of shit cheating on her from day one.”

“You did all this for my wife?” Ransom hiccups. “You’re insane. Starting a war over some pussy!”

“You don’t get it,” Andy hisses. “Y/N is not some pussy to me. She’s everything, and I’ll make her my queen.”

While you look for the things you want to take with you, Andy threatens Ransom and his organization.

When you walk back down the stairs, your husband already signed the divorce papers. He will let you go and get out of town as fast as possible.

Ransom didn’t know that no one messes with Andrew Barber. The head of the Boston mafia. One of the deadliest men alive…

Tags in reblog.

#Two can play a game #andy barber #ransom drysdale #andy barber x you #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #ransom drysdale x reader #angst #tw: cheating #mafia au

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brummiereader · 1 year

Text

PREVIOUS PART

Killing Me Softly (PART SIX/ DARK!TOMMY)

Summary: It's been two months since your escape from Tommy's clutches. How long will you be able to stay hidden until your husband hunts you down?

Warnings: Language, angst, psychological mind games, controlling behaviour, toxic marriage, Dark!Tommy ( this is a dark fic, please read the warnings before continuing)

Writers note: Just to note, £250 in 1920s England is the equivalent to £9,183 in today's money, the price Tommy paid for your diamond encrusted bracelet . The song Tommy sings to Y/N is called "Run Rabbit Run" by Flanagan and Allen that was released in 1939, a song Tommy would have known.

Two months later...

Storming into the factory building, every worker turned around in a hurry to avoid the fury on their bosses face. They had learnt over the past two months that one wrong look could end with them getting shot, a lesson they learnt quickly when one of Tommy's many workers approached him to ask about a delivery due that day. Tommy's response, the end of his gun pointed to the young man's head. The workers only saving grace was when Arthur and John stepped in before he ended up six feet under with a bullet hole through his skull. The reason for his anger, you. For the past two months Tommy had torn Birmingham apart looking for you, every one of his henchmen as well as himself had been out searching for you night and day. Countless hours had been spent checking potential leads and yet, he still hadn't found you. The king of Birmingham, the notorious boss of the Peaky Blinders couldn't find his wife, the embarrassment only angered him more. Fury was consuming him, your brazen act of disloyalty and disobedience at the forefront of his mind every second of the day. Unable to sleep or eat, the only thing that kept him going was tobacco, whisky and the awaited pleasure he would feel unleashing his punishment on you, a punishment you would not escape for a second time. Slamming the door to his office shut, Tommy sat down in his leather chair, his fingers running through his hair as he looked down at the various notes left on his table. Sitting back he flicked through each one of the potential sightings, all of them quickly deemed useless as he tossed them into a nearby bin. Gazing down at his wedding ring, Tommy turned the gold band around his finger, clenching his jaw as he pushed down any anxiety that dared to make an appearance. A small inconvenience until he had found you, he thought to himself as he brushed his hand down his face. But was it? You had begun to stir up anxieties in him that he had pushed away for years since his return from war. The fear of having no control over what could happen started to slowly creep up on him again, the same fear he felt digging tunnels in France as the weight of the earth threatened to fall down on him. Swallowing back the memories, Tommy clenched his fist as his mind forced him to remember his time in France, and the only thing that kept him going, his childhood love. At first, it was a comforting memory he'd conjure up as the sound of gunfire echoed through No Man's Land behind him, but in his desperate attempt to block out reality it had become an unhealthy fixation. A once innocent young love became an obsession, an obsession he refused to let go of. Overtime the sound of gunfire and bombs exploding no longer scared him, instead it was replaced with the fear of never seeing you again, a fear that started to feel all too familiar. Straightening his posture out Tommy poured himself a glass of whisky in an attempt to rid himself of the uncomfortable feeling pressing against his chest.

" Why did she leave?" John's wife Esme asked her husband as she watched her brother-in-law through the glass window of his office, his head in his hands, his knee rapidly bouncing up and down as the stress coursed through his body. He was loosing control, and it was becoming evident to all those around him.

" The worry of her mother being sick. She's in a fragile place Esme. She couldn't handle it and left. Tom says she always does that, runs away from her problems when things get too difficult" he replied as Polly looked on, raising an eyebrow at Johns explanation.

" He looks like he's going to murder someone" Arthur said as he walked into the factory looking at Tommy now pacing back and forth in his office with another glass of whisky in his hand.

" He nearly did" Polly said, referring to the factory worker who almost got shot in the head for having the audacity to talk to him.

" He's still not found her then?" Arthur asked, leaning against a wall as he pulled out a silver flask of whisky. Clearly the soothing lull of the amber liquid was not too early for him either.

" Does it look like it?" John replied as he rolled the toothpick in his mouth between his lips.

" Fuck...we've looked everywhere, how far could she have got?" Arthur replied, taking a swig of liquor.

" Pretty far, when your scared" Polly spoke up, as she looked down at the newspaper in front of her.

"Heads up" Arthur said as he nodded to Tommy's office door, warning everyone of his younger brother's approaching presence.

"Arthur, John, we're leaving " Tommy said as he put his coat on, his eyes darting to his Aunt who was staring him down

"You gonna tell us where we going?" John asked as he hopped off one of the receptionists desks placing his peaked cap firmly on his head.

" Just had a phone call. She was seen down by the old Jewellery Quarters over a month ago" Tommy replied as he turned his head to his Aunt. "Problem?" he asked, annoyance in his voice as he cocked an eyebrow at his Aunt's insistent glare.

" Oh no Tommy, you go find your wife...that's if she wants to be found" Polly replied, turning away as Tommy cleared his throat in irritation at her remark. Had Polly finally figured everything out?

"Y/N there's a letter here for you, your Landlady said as she bounced her baby up and down on her hip.

"Thank you Mrs Riley " you replied as you smiled at the baby boy reaching out for you.

"Is it still ok for you to babysit tonight?" she asked as she wiped the dribble off her son's chin with the end of her apron.

" Of course, I don't mind at all. Plus, how could I say no to this little man" you replied as you took him from her, blowing small raspberries to his neck as he giggled in response.

" Ahh thank you. First time me and Mr Riley have gone out since this little one came along. You should really come one day, lots of single men will be there, they will be jumping at the chance to dance with you. We need to find you a husband!" she chuckled smiling to you, unaware that you were already married.

"Why would I need a man when I've got this little bundle to keep me company" you replied looking down at the baby in your arms, a small uneasiness washing over you at the thought of Tommy. " Oh god, it's that time already. I'm going to be late" you said looking down at your watch as you passed the baby back to his mother. Saying goodbye you walked out onto the farm you had been stopping at for the past two months. Having sold the bracelet Tommy had gifted you before your wedding, you had plenty of money to afford a more expensive place to stay, but you needed to keep low. You knew Tommy would be out searching for you, and with that in mind you responded to an advertisement in the local paper for a small lodgings at Riley Farm, the perfect place for anyone wanting to go unnoticed. A small bedsit attached to the side of the farm house in a little village you had never heard of, so inconspicuous that it was not even marked on a map. With everyone knowing the last name Shelby and Tommy knowing you might use your maiden name in replacement, you started using your mothers maiden name from the day you left Arrow House. Word spread fast about Tommy Shelby's anger. Even in the small village you was now living in a you heard talk of how the gang leader of the Peaky Blinder was tearing the city apart. No one knew exactly why the infamous Tommy Shelby's fury had rained down on the smog covered city, but there were rumours of his wife having run off with another man, a rumour you only imagined infuriated him even more. You knew your husband would never cease in his search for you and that you would eventually have to leave and find somewhere else to stay, but for now you enjoyed the peace and quiet the small village gave you, a peace you had forgotten existed. You had started working as a teaching assistant at the village school, a school that accommodated many orphaned children from the war, funded by rich benefactors. You enjoyed your job, the children's laughs and joyful spirits were a pleasant distraction to the memories you held inside of the previous months. But there were still times when Tommy would invade your thoughts and you would suddenly find yourself longing for him once again. Longing for his strong arms wrapped around you, his hands cupping your cheeks as he look down into your eyes, his voice telling you he loved you. Had he still a hold on you, even after everything that had happened ?

"Stop here Arthur" Tommy said as his older brother pulled up in front of a shop in Birmingham's city center.

" What the fuck we doing here, thought she was seen in a jewellery shop?" Arthur replied as he looked out his window at the small building. Giving no response Tommy opened the door as he reached into his pocket to light a cigarette. Looking up, Tommy squinted his eyes at the sign attached to the old stone brick wall, "Johnson & son Pawnbrokers". Breathing out a cloud of smoke he entered the small business, shutting the door behind him.

" Well I guess we bloody follow him then" Arthur said rolling his eyes as John shook his head laughing.

As the three brothers entered the shop, the owner immediately scurried back behind his till, instantly recognising each gang member, the shine from the blade on the front of their caps a stark reminder of their brutality if he dared to anger them.

" Please, I don't want trouble" he said as he put his trembling hands up in defence.

"What makes you think we're here to cause trouble?" Tommy asked as John and Arthur looked around at the various objects for sale.

" A young woman was seen coming in here a few months ago" Tommy said reaching into his suit jacket, pulling out an old picture of you that had clearly seen better days.

" We get lots of people coming in to sell things Mr Shelby" he replied nervously as he looked down at the picture. " I don't remember her, she could have come in when my son was working or maybe my wife, I'm not very good at remembering faces. I'll, I'll go get my wif.." he said only to be interrupted when Tommy pulled a gun to his head, tired of the conversation. The shop keepers eyes quickly darted to the back door next to him as he contemplated fleeing.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you" Tommy said as he clicked the safety off. " I have very little patience these days Mr Johnson".

" Tom, I think you might want to see this" Arthur said as he looked down into a glass cabinet. Narrowing his eyes Tommy lowered his gun, a small smirk playing on his lips as he looked at the trembling man in front of him. Walking over, Tommy's eyes widened at the small bracelet he had offered you before your wedding sitting in a glass cabinet on a red velvet stand. His stomach suddenly felt sick, his hands sweaty.

" Care to explain why the fuck you have my wife's bracelet in your possession?! " Tommy shouted as he marched back over to the shop owner, the gun now pressed firmly against the old man's temple.

" She...she must have come in and sold it, please don't shoot me" he said mumbling as he scrunched his eyes shut, the barrel of the gun cold against his skin.

" No? " Tommy grinned darkly as he twisted the end of the gun further into his flesh.

" P..please Mr Shelby"

" I wouldn't say anything more if I was you, he's two seconds away from pulling that trigger" John said as Arthur watched on.

" Yeh, and I can't be bothered to pull him off another innocent soul for a second time. Got elbowed in the bloody stomach last time " Arthur added as the two brothers looked at eachother smirking, enjoying the torment they were inflicting.

" Right give us the keys to open this thing " Arthur said slapping his hands together, pulling Tommy out of his trance. Dropping the gun from the shop keepers head Tommy scoffed as he watched him fumble to find his keys.

" So is it hers?" John asked as Tommy picked it up, turning it over to see both your initials and the date of your wedding engraved on the back. Brushing his hand down his face Tommy nodded as he enclosed the bracelet in his hand, placing it in his pocket.

" Did she erh..." Tommy said as he started to clear his throat, his mouth suddenly going dry "...did she leave any details, address, number?" He asked as he turned back to the shop keeper.

" I'll check right now for you me Shelby" the owner said hurrying back to his counter as he looked through various pieces of paper, desperately trying to find something as Tommy waited next to him, lighting another cigarette

" What do you think?" John laughed placing a straw hat with an array of different flowers stitched into the side of it on top of his peaked cap.

" Very pretty John boy, you should get it" Arthur said winking to his brother. "Ain't he pretty Tommy?" Arthur laughed trying to get his brother to lighten up.

" Beautiful" Tommy replied flatly as he looked back over to the shop owner, his fingers taping on the counter, his patience disappearing.

"Ah here! I found something. One diamond encrusted bracelet sold in the exchange of, One Hundred and Ten pound King George Sterling to one Miss Y/mothers maiden/N, 12A Ferris Court Birmingham" he said handing the small piece of paper to Tommy, breathing a sigh of relief.

"She's still in Birmingham?" John questioned confused as to how they hadn't found you since they had already checked that part of town. Scrunching the paper in his hands, anger started to build up in him. Was someone helping you?

" Y/mothers maiden/N" Tommy scoffed. " One Hundred and Ten pounds ey? I brought that bracelet for Two Hundred and Fifty" Tommy said, squinting his eyes at the shopkeeper who swallowed harshly as he leaned over the counter to open his till. " One Hundred and Ten pounds, and I'll be keeping the bracelet" Tommy said pulling the same sum of money out, a smirk on his lips as the owner rubbed the sweat of his forehead as Tommy emptied his till." Lads " Tommy said as he walked to the door, his brothers quickly following behind him. " Pleasure doing business with you Mr Johnson" he added, walking out the door as Arthur took the hat of John's head replacing it with slap to the back of his skull instead.

After a long day of working at the school, you and the teacher you were assisting made your way to the village square. You and Mr Brown or as you called him Robert, had grown close to one another over the past weeks. He had become a good a friend, but only a friend. He would never ask questions about your personal life, quickly realising you were reluctant to talk about it whenever the topic arose, he respected your privacy and decided to leave the subject alone. Every day after school had ended he would walk with you to your lodgings, he was a caring man whose friendship you deeply cherished, one you was afraid of Tommy learning about. If your husband knew you was talking to another man let alone him accompany you home, you would certainly both pay the price for his anger, the thought alone scared you into never delving into your past.

" Think the kids really enjoyed your imaginative way of learning the alphabet today. Still don't know how you managed to find an object for each word of the alphabet" he laughed as he walked beside you along the country lane.

" I don't either" you giggled as you both approached the village square, the sun shining down on the quiet neighborhood.

" Thinking about having them do a large drawing for our benefactors visit tomorrow, we are so grateful for their donations. They keep our school going and Mr Sh.." he stopped as you came to a halt, your hand grabbing holding of his arm.

"Y/N are you ok? " he said looking at the fearful expression on your face, your eyes fixed on the back of a smartly dressed man with a peaked cap sitting on a bricked wall.

" He found me...I, I need to go" you panicked, tears welling in your eyes as you started walking backwards letting go of Roberts arm.

"Wait, Y/N" he stopped you, your eyes widening at the man turning around as Robert turned his head to look at what had you so frightened.

" Oh..." You exhaled as tears ran down your face to see that the man in front of you wasn't your husband. Feeling your knees go weak, you stumbled to a nearby bench as Robert held you up.

"You're married aren't you?" He questioned as he looked down at your trembling hands, the indent of where your wedding ring once was only now coming to his attention.

"Yes" you said nodding your head as you blinked away the tears.

" And you're hiding from him?" he asked as you mouthed a silent yes in response whilst you looked desperately into your friends eyes.

" You don't understand, if he finds me.."

" He's not going to find Y/N, nobody knows about this village, they can't even pronounce it let alone find it. You're safe here, I promise" he said, as he placed a comforting hand over yours. " Come on, let's get you back before Mrs Riley starts worrying" he said smiling to you as he reached his hand out for yours. Smiling back you stood up wiping the tears away with the back of your hand as a wave of dread washed over you at Roberts words. Tommy would never stop until he found you, it was only matter of time until he would finally hunt you down.

"FUCKKK!" Tommy shouted at the top of his voice as he repeatedly punched his fist into the wall. " She's playing with me Arthur, she's fucking playing with me!" Tommy yelled as he frantically reached into his pocket for a smoke, anger coursing through his body as he tried to light the cigarette in his mouth. You had deceived him, the address you gave was the address to an abandoned flat on the north side of Birmingham's city center, Tommy was furious.

" Tom, maybe she just wants some space, she'll come back eventually" John said as he stood by the door, his hands in his pockets.

" What the fuck was that, space?!" Tommy said storming over to his brother, Arthur putting himself between them before a fight broke out.

" We'll find her Tom" Arthur reassured his brother as he took out his lighter, igniting the cigarette resting between Tommy's lips.

" She fucking needs me, she's weak without me" Tommy said as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, the nicotine calming his nerves as his brothers looked nervously to eachother at Tommy's strange choice of words.

" Come on brother let's get out here" Arthur said wrapping his arm around his shoulder as he walked with him to the door, John sheepishly following behind. Tommy may be John's brother but even he knew he was not immune to the deadly gang leaders retribution, a retribution he wanted to stay clear of.

Sitting by the classroom window the following day, you looked down at the stack of papers In front of you that needed to be marked as Robert walked into the classroom carrying a pile of books in his arms.

" They'll be arriving soon" Robert said as he placed the books down onto his desk, a film a sweat covering his skin from his frantic state.

" Who?" You replied looking up from the papers you were grading as you took a sip of tea, a playful smile on your lips as you looked at Roberts nervousness.

" The benefactors of the school, remember? They've been funding us for over a year, we can't keep this place going without them, everything needs to be in order for when they come" he replied as he sat down in his chair exhausted.

" Come on Robert, no one would pull funding from a school for orphaned children'' you replied trying to reassure him.

" Yes maybe, but these patrons are not exactly, clean money" he responded as he wiped the sweat from his skin whilst you giggled at the thought of criminals funding anything, let alone a school.

" Well they can't be that bad if they have the heart to donate money to our little school. What did you say their name was?" you replied as you put your pen back into your bag.

" It's Sh..oh god it's them" he answered cutting himself off when he saw their car pull up in front of the school.

" Do I have time to use the bathroom?" you asked getting up with a grin on your face as you turned around to see the Bugatti parked just outside.

" Yes yes but hurry, the boss is... well he's, he's intimidating"

"Intimidating" you repeated, rolling your eyes laughing whilst you made your way to the restroom as the sound of the school door opened.

" Remind me why the fuck we have to go to these things Pol?" Tommy asked as he lit a cigarette.

" Because it's what you do when you own a charity Tommy" she replied shutting the school door behind her.

" Well don't drag it on, I've got things to do. Who chose this school? I've never even heard of this fucking village " he added as he looked at his pocket watch, his patience already disappearing.

" Can you at least try to pretend like you want to be here" Polly said as she gave him a stern look, Tommy forcing a sarcastic smile in response.

" Mr Shelby, Miss Grey. It's so nice to see you again" Robert greeted them as he shook each of their hand, a warm smile on his face as he welcomed them into the classroom. Looking around the small room Tommy perched himself on one of the empty desks, exhaling a puff of smoke as Polly and Robert talked to eachother.

" Do tell us Mr Brown, how are the children doing? Do you have everything you need?" Polly asked as Tommy rubbed his cigarette in between his fingers, looking out the window, uninterested by the conversation that was taking place.

" Oh, they are doing great, we have a new teaching assistant that started a few months ago, she should be back any minute, she's been a real help" he replied pulling out the drawing the children had made for them. Rubbing his forehead Tommy looked ahead of him at the small desk beside the blackboard when something suddenly caught his eye. Scrunching his brow he stood up walking over to the small wooden table in the corner, tilting his head as his eyes narrowed in on the black handbag sitting on top of the old wood. This was your bag, he was certain of it. The sound of Polly and Roberts conversation started to muffle in his ears, the thumping of his heart replaced the echo of their voices as he felt the room closing in on him. Feeling the pressure of his shirt pushing against his throat, Tommy loosened the tie around his neck, his anger rising in him at an unstoppable speed, you had been here all this time.

" When did your new assistant start working here ?" Tommy seethed, turning around to face Robert as he wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead.

" Around 6 weeks ago Mr Shelby" he replied, taking a step back as he saw the anger in Tommy's face.

" At this new teaching assistant " Tommy started to say as bitterness and fury built in his voice. " What's her last name?"

" Well it's Y/mother's maiden/N" he replied as Tommy scoffed in reply, shaking his head in disbelief.

" Miss Y/mother's maiden/N...not Mrs Shelby then?" Tommy answered as he looked Robert dead in the eye.

" What's going on Tommy?" Polly interjected as she watched the the tension build in her nephews face.

" Have you been helping her, hm?" Tommy said raising his voice as Polly's eyes darted to your bag on the table, putting her hand to her mouth in shock at the realisation.

" I... I don't " Robert stuttered as his brain tried to catch up to what Tommy was asking. And then it hit him, he was the man you were hiding from, he was your husband.

" Where is she? Answer me!" Tommy shouted as he slammed his fist down onto the desk in front of him.

Leaving the bathroom, you frowned in confusion as you heard the sound of raised voices coming from the classroom you had just left. Drying the back of your hands on the front of your dress you hurried to the room as quickly as you could, only to come to a stop as your eyes widened in terror, a gasp leaving your mouth whilst your hand grasped onto the door frame in fear you would lose your balance. There, standing in the middle of the room was your husband, Roberts hand holding onto a chair as Tommy loomed over him. Straightening his coat out Tommy turned around to the sound of your presence.

" Hello darling" your husband said, his hands casually in his suit trousers as a wicked smile grew on his lips, his eyes roaming over your body. He had found you.

Letting go of the door frame you started to walk backwards, tears welling in you eyes as you looked back at your husband, his eyes darkening, his face taunt with anger as he waited for you to do what he knew you would.

" One, two, three..." Tommy started to count as if this was a game of hide-and-seek, and he was the seeker. Shaking your head tears fell down your cheeks as you prepared yourself to run, the sound of his countdown ringing in your ears. But Tommy never would count to ten. With the smirk growing on his face, Tommy stopped at three, his eyebrow raised as he took one step forward and you took one step back. Spinning around you ran to the front door as quickly as you could, slamming it shut as the sound of your husband's footsteps chasing after you rapidly approached.

" Y/N Shelby!" Tommy shouted as he ran after you, a sinister smile dancing on his lips. This was all a game to him, he was enjoying it." You never was very good at hiding" he shouted as he watched you run around the corner out on to the road.

" Come on sweetheart, don't I get a kiss from my long-lost wife" he said sarcastically as he hunched down pulling his gun out. Now ducked down running along the opposite side of the hedge Tommy watched you through the small holes in the hedgerow as you rapidly walked down the country lane wiping the tears from your eyes.

"Run rabbit, run rabbit, run run run, don't give the farmer his fun, fun, fun " Tommy sang as you abruptly stopped in the middle of the road your eyes darting left and right as panic coursed through your body. Turning around you looked back to the top of the road when you suddenly heard someone pushing their way through the hedge, the cock of a gun echoing along the country lane. With a trembling body your turned back around, tears cascading down your face as your eyes turned to see Tommy standing right behind you, his gun pointed straight at you.

"Lost little bunny?"

NEXT PART

Tag list: @litteltourtius @aesthetic0cherryblossom @swordofawriter @casa-boiardi @muhahaha303 @fmo166 @call-sign-shark @priyajoyy @pet1t3 @ifevilwhyhot @bruher @whereismymindnow

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinders fanfic #killing me softly #dark!tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine

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ugly-pickle · 9 months

Note

Good morning, Pickle.

Please kindly consider this Ayato request: Your spoilt and pampered sister who has always destroyed every marriage prospect you have isn't happy that Ayato chose to marry you instead of her. So, on your wedding day, she has her servants destroy your wedding kimono as a fit of petty jealousy.

Please also kindly take as long as you need with this request; I have no qualms in waiting. Furthermore, by no means feel obligated to prioritize this request over your other requests.

lovely ☆ ayato

CHARACTERS: ayato x f!reader

SYNOPSIS: your sister seems to be upset when she finds out that you and ayato are engaged, so she casually ruins your wedding

GENRE: fluff 💿

W/C: 1.4k

C/W: cussing, betrayal, scissors, and physical touch (let me know if ive missed anything!)

A/N: OMG MY FIRST REQUEST AHRGHDSHH im currently working on your other request @sailorstar9 so just hold on tight! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

your sister is your everything, from the moment of her birth, when you held her in your arms you just knew you had to protect her until the sun and the moon collided, no, even after that you have to protect her. you thought all of the compassion youve shown your sister would help her bloom to be an elegant young lady, but has instead grown into a carrion flower.

your sister is certainly a bitch from time to time, but maybe it's because she doesnt have any suitors that truly love her, on the other hand you do. only an imbecile wouldnt want to be your lover, youre charming, funny, loving, intelligent, and beautiful. it could be out of jealousy that your sister had ruined your relationships with men who want your hand in marrige.

one day, you were having a fancy dinner with ayato, his family (plus thoma), you, and your family, when he suddenly got down on one knee and held out a ring with a fat diamond to you. you obviously accepted his proposal, and everyone in the room applauded for the two of you, except your sister.

for the next couple of months of your engagement with ayato, youve noticed that your little sister has become, well, bitter. her state worsens more and more the closer that the date of your wedding day approaches.

the week of your wedding day has finally arrived. the first gift youve received is from ayaka; you open the gift, you laid your eyes on the most beautiful kimono that has ever been made. the embroidery is truly one of a kind, the floral patterns was simply gorgeous, and the hair ornament looks so delicate that even the softest gush of wind could shatter it into pieces.

“oh my— ayaka this is beautiful…” youre at a loss of words, “im glad it’s to your liking,” ayaka responds with a sweet smile gracing her lips. “i will make sure that this kimono will never know what a blemish is,” you tell her solemnly, she giggles, “i wish i could talk to you longer, but im afraid that i have unavoidable duties to attend too,”

you bid ayaka farewell. you close the door behind you, you place the kimono back into its box and store it safely away. oh how you cannot wait to tells your friends and family about this gift, especially your sister.

when she heard about the news of your kimono that descended from celestia she threw an entire fit, one more immature than a toddler’s, but she does have her manners and did it once you had left the estate. her servants were comforting by her and calming her down, until one suggested to, perhaps, ruin the kimono?…

now that this idea has been implemented into your sister’s brain, nothing could lure it out. during the days leading up to your big day your sister has been ordering scissors so sharp that it could leave a scratch on the geo archon’s shield. your sister had selected her most loyal servants fit for the task to to shred your beloved wedding kimono to pieces.

your big wedding day is finally here! your bridesmaids are helping you get ready, they took you to the bath first, leaving your bedroom unattended.

the servants took this opportunity to sneak into your sleeping chambers and rummage through your things, looking for your kimono. after some time, one had found it; calling the others over, they started to get to work.

the embroidery now looks like the handwriting that belongs to a toddler, the floral designs had certainly seen better days, and the ornament is now smashed into pieces. the kimono now looks like the ghost from the ring would wear. your sister’s servants, pleased with their artwork, placed the kimono back into the box and storing it where they first found it.

you hear something scurry away, you open the door to see nothing. you shrug it off, “ladies, would you please bring my kimono? it’s in that box over there,” your bridesmaids nod there head, one of them grabs the box and places it on your bed. you open the box to find your kimono in a strange state.

your eyes widened in horror, you wanted to cry but you were in too much shock to do so. your bridesmaids were just as terrified as you are. the maid of honor instantly sent out two ladies, trying to order another kimono in such short notice. the ceremony is soon, you want someone to comfort you, but not the ladies with you. your sister? not a good idea, ayato? yes. but, hes busy.

you tell everyone to get out of the room, not wanting to shed tears infront of them, "but y/n, the wedding is soon, we cant afford to waste time, especially now." you acknowledge this for a moment, but with no dress you cant have the perfect wedding youve always dreamt of; besides the ladies cant get another kimono in time. "out. i already told you, get out," they cant do anything but put their heads down and listen to you, they exit the room one by one.

after the last one shuts the door, the tears fall down your face, you cant help it, you really cant. who did this? who would be so cruel, so jealous, so petty to do this? not even the tsaritsa would be this evil. the only person you know of who would do this is,

your sister?

how can she be so cruel?… but, jumping to conclusions is never good for anyone, and even if she did do this, it couldve been out of jealously.

.....

oh FUCK THAT SHIT, she just ruined your wedding for archons sake. you look at the clock. oh archons. the ceremony had started, but who cares, even a trash bag looks better than your wedding kimono.

tears are continuously rolling down your face, like a river that will never stop flowing. your sniffles are quiet, but it is the only rolling that can be heard in this room.

…

ayato is standing there at the alter, waiting for the love of his life, but she never shows up. worry suddenly floods his mind, what if something happened? he excuses himself and rushes to find you.

your sister sees him dashing towards her. have the archons finally answered her prayers? “oh ayato! i knew you would come to your senses sooner or later!” she exclaims. ayato, a bit disgusted, brushes her off and says politely, “i love y/n dearly and im currently searching for her, do you have any idea where she might be?”

one of your bridesmaids is running towards ayato, “over there ayato! quickly!” she shouts and points from across the room, unable to catch her breath. ayato nods, running towards where you are.

he slams the door open, “y/n—“ he cuts himself off when he sees your glossy eyes, tears falling down your face, your sniffles and breath trembling. “oh ayato,” you walk to your not-so-soon-to-be-husband and embrace him. the wet stain on his shoulder slowly growing.

for the first time in a while, ayato is genuinely shocked, hes seeing his lover upset, crying, and he cant do anything about it. “my love, whats wrong? what happened?”

you point to your bed, ayato takes a look and sees why— he and ayaka spent hours searching for a dress thats one of a kind and meant for you. his eyes widen a bit then relax again. he places his hand on the small on your back and rubs it in small circles.

he comforts you by saying, “i am beyond lucky to have you as my bride, even the most expensive jewels cannot be compared to your beauty because you outshine all, so please dont be too upset about this matter. i will find a dress made in celestia just to please my wonderful my darling.” he kisses your temple and pulls say, his face looks a bit more eerie now.

“your sister, right?” ayato asks you. “i think so—” ayato cuts you off, “i’ll cut off that bitches head as soon as possible, dont worry y/n.”

A/N: this was VERY rushed but i hope you still enjoyed it ૮ ⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄ ·̭ o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝ ྀིა

imagine a plot twist where the sister is in love with you lol (i dont write incest)

TAGLIST: @sailorstar9 @gummy-dummy @hopefulceladon @username-try-3

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #fluff #genshin fluff #pickle #genshin #ugly-pickle #uglypickle #genshin ayato #ayato kamisato #ayato fluff #ayato #kamisato ayato #ayato x reader #ayato x you #ayato x y/n

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ghostheartfelt · 1 year

Text

*:･｡☆ notes: mature content, hellllla smut... smutty smut smut! reader is mentioned as petite/given the descriptions of being petite. reader and ghost are married. ghost is left at the door upon arrival, simon comes home. ghost takes the mask off only at home under your relationship rules.

*:･｡☆ tags: praise and degradation, anniversary sex, reunion sex, breast worship, body worship, ghost is obsessed with ya'll..., ghost is more affectionate during sex, biting, lots of kissing, reader is hella sex deprived, dom!m & sub!f, dom!f if you squint, cunniligus, you ride ghosts face for the first time, ghost loves eating pussy, you give him a blowjob (lucky), no use of y/n, lots of moaning and whining, spit play, ghost spits in your mouth, ghost loves the belly bulge, major size difference kink, BREEDING KINK, ghost breeds you like your life depends on it, you both try for a baby, very fluffy aftercare, ghost takes care of you.

〔☆〕 desc: ghost takes leave for your one year marriage anniversary and makes it up to you with hella sex. oh and you ask if he's ready to give you a baby because you don't like being home alone without a purpose, he doesn't let you leave without there being no chance of you walking out without his baby in you.

—✩ TEN MINUTES PAST ✩—

word count — 10.1k

a/n: this is my first ever time writing smut! i genuinely hope i did alright, and i welcome any advice and soft criticisms. anywho, enjoy this long ass smut shot!

ao3

You pace the living room eagerly. He said he’d be home. He promised. He promised you he’d be beside you for this day. It was your anniversary; he proposed a year ago, and you’d been dating him for six years prior.

It’s two o’clock in the morning, seven minutes past. He’s still not there. Eight minutes past two o’clock in the morning. You spent time cleaning the house for the second time this week, for him.

Nine minutes past two o’clock in the morning. Almost ten. You’ve been waiting since the moment you woke up. Twenty-one hours. One thousand, two hundred and sixty minutes. He’s still not here.

You sit down on the leather couch, and pour the glass of wine you had set out for the two of you in a stemless glass, pressing it to your lips. You lean back, resting your head against the cushion behind you.

Your fingers glide up and down the rubber buttons on the remote to your t.v, the black turning to white as you press on the red on/off button located at the top right corner of the remote.

You pull your black weighted blanket over your body, draping it over your shoulders and tucking it in the crevices between your arms to warm you up.

A stereotypical romance is the first movie you watched while you were cleaning the kitchen. Now, you were halfway through the movie, and it no longer makes you feel bubbly and giddy. But instead, just lonely, almost broken.

Maybe it was the way the brunette male held the blonde, gripping her hips as they kissed underneath the threshold of his apartment door. Or the way he looked at her when she stared out the airplane window during their flight to France.

Nothing you haven’t seen before in a romance, but they contained your favorite tropes, although basic, because Simon never did any of the things you see in the movies. His proposal was simple, hell, you were surprised he even proposed at all.

Your wedding ring was beautiful, a circle-shaped diamond that wasn’t too flashy nor too small. It had two bands that wrapped around your finger, and a diamond-covered frame covering the larger stone.

His ring always stayed on his bedside table, that is more than it should be, left untouched. He wears a silicone band when in the fields, which you were okay with due to it being for his safety. Once in a while, you end up wearing his wedding band around your neck, with a dog tag chain holding it securely.

Ten minutes past two o’clock in the morning. You remember his proposal all too well. You both had visited a pier that was fairly close to your shared home, and with no words, nor kneeling gesture, Simon had taken your smaller hand in his own, and slipped the gorgeous ring through your finger.

His eyes pinned to yours as you took in the moment for yourself. Your eyes shone, glistening with sticky tears as your mascara stained your undereyes. He always wore his mask out in public, but he never told you why.

It was almost as if you were proposed to by another version of him he never has told you about. You weren’t sure if it was him being ashamed of being with you, or something entirely different. Either way, you knew Simon was a man who was secretive and mysterious in a way that you were intrigued by. He still cared, although the man has never returned you an ‘i love you too’, he had other ways of expressing his feelings and admiration for you.

You stand from the couch, adjusting the red silk robes draped over your shoulders, tied at your chest. Your hair was pinned up in a tortoise shell claw clip, two strands from your bangs dangling in front of you. You’d grown out your natural nails, painting them in black—his favorite. You didn’t take the time to do your makeup, he’d always told you he preferred you without it. That your natural beauty was always his favorite; however, he loved when he made you cry off all your mascara while he fucked you, or when your lipstick would smear against him or the bed sheets.

A shiver ran up your spine at the thought. You longed for your husband’s touch for too long, and he’d promised you to provide. Simon was a man of his word, from what you’d seen and experienced. Two hours ago, it was yours and Simon’s anniversary. Two hours ago, you expected him to come through that door and hold you like he did on the pier, so long ago. A year ago. Now, you haven’t seen your husband in over six months, and it was killing you. It was torturous.

He mailed you, and you mailed him. He wrote you letters, telling you sweet nothings. He was such a literate man, he knew how to make you weak in the knees just through ink on paper. The last thing you’d mailed Simon were polaroid pictures of you. You in his favorite lingerie, you without it.

It took you a lot of confidence to do it, but you did, and he loved them. You didn’t know if he did or not, though, because he didn’t mail anything back. You spent day and night worried it was put into the wrong hands, or you wrote the address wrong, or he just didn’t care for them. Simon knew you were also an overthinker.

You walk back towards the kitchen, opening the fridge to take out a glass pitcher of coffee creamer, as well as the half-and-half carton. You close the fridge with your hip, and walk yourself to the other side of the counter where you had a little coffee and tea station set up. You grab one of the mugs off the rack, setting it down as you press the button on the electric kettle to heat up the water inside. You place your cup under the coffee machine.

Suddenly, you feel large hands envelope your waist, and you gasp. “What’re ya doin’ up still, love?” You immediately recognize his voice; so grim, deep, and low, and accented. His left hand drags up from your lower abdomen, up your ribs, up the valley of your breasts. You breathe sharply as he moves your robes, letting them fall off your shoulders slightly. His fingers trace your clavicles a moment, then your sternum again, then up your neck. His hand cups below your chin, pulling your head back to rest against his body.

Only then do you exhale and close your eyes while your palms press hard against the marble countertop. “I didn’t think you’d come,” you finally say, breaking the silence. “Mmm…—I know, t’wasnt my intention. Damn twits kept wantin’ and wantin’…” he says before he bends his head, kissing your shoulders gingerly. “Wanted to rip their heads off for keepin’ me from ya.” Simon grumbles against your soft skin. “But ‘m a man of my word,” his lips glide against your neck, almost hardly touching your skin—teasingly.

“Missed ya…Damn bad. Got yer pictures…” His eyes drag to your palms once they begin to grip on the counter. He starts low, making his way up your neck, sucking and kissing your sensitive skin to create marks that would be a considerable challenge to cover up for work. Just how he likes it.

“You didn’t send anything back…I only assumed the worst.” You reply, gasping once the male above you bites down on your neck then licks the indents he stamped down.

“Like?” He asks, separating your lips slightly with his thumb, which you place a few soft kisses against. “You didn’t…want them. Or they were bad—“ his hand covers your mouth, two of his fingers pressing into the skin below your chin.

“Quiet,” he grunts. “Didn’t want them? Fuckk…Do ya have any damn clue what y’did to me, woman?” Simon’s grip on your hip tightens as he grumbles against the shell of your ear.

“I wanted nothin’ more than to have ya bent to my contentment…To fuck y’r pretty little head empty.” He takes your earlobe between his teeth, then sucks lightly.

“I fucked my hand for over two damn hours like some fuckin’ eager man-slag. Course I damn well liked ‘em.” Simon’s hand trails up to your waist, the other still covering your mouth.

“Does that get ya off, hm? Knowin’ I fucked my fist to y’r pretty little slutty pictures?” He breathes heavily against you, pulling your body warm against his.

“Si…” you say softly, practically delicately after he releases the hand from your mouth to rest it on your waist with the other. “I asked ya a question.” Simon’s voice is so low and gravelly, you can’t help but squeeze your thighs together, and he takes notice.

You turn around. He lets you. You crave him. He craves you. “Yes,” you coo. His head cranes down to connect your lips with his.

“I’ve missed you so much, Simon,” you whisper into his mouth. He consumes your speech, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. His tongue meets with yours, tasting yours. Tasting what he’s longed for. Tasting who he’s longed for.

He doesn’t pull away until you start to struggle to breathe, biting your lip before he disconnects from you, a string of saliva causing him to chuckle deeply.

“Let me make it up to ya, love…” he says, asking for consent with his brown eyes. You only nod, which is enough for his hands to move and grip your hind, lifting you up against his chest. Your legs wrap around his waist and you kiss his chin, his neck—anything you can reach—desperately. He carries you towards the couch, setting you down on the soft material. Your doe eyes blink, taking in his form. He was still in his uniform, but his mask was resting on his side.

Simon’s hard gaze meets with your body, causing you to shuffle around nervously, he was standing up above you, somewhat menacingly. “You look damned beautiful—made me go mad the moment I walked in…” Simon’s eyes don’t leave your body as he starts to discard his vest and kick off his boots. “I feel a bit underdressed,” you joke softly, a smile creasing your lips. “Jus’ how I like it…” He teases, watching as you stare at him. At his shape. The way his tan shirt squeezes tightly around his arms accentuating his tight fit.

Simon nethers down in a bent form, his lips connecting with your wrist as he lifts your arm. “Smell absolutely incredible.” He says, his voice brimming with adoration and his eyes stirring with pure interest and dedication, a hint of desire masked in his dark irises. “Oh…” You exhale deeply, taking note of every one of his moves, memorizing the pattern of his lips against your feverish body.

“‘Oh’, is right lovie.” Simon teases you gently, a humorous chuckle leaving his throat.

He lets go of your hand, letting it slide back onto your thigh as he seats himself besides you, gripping your hips to turn you and lean you against the armrest of the couch. Butterflies swarm in your stomach at his sudden domineering pace. “Y’r so quiet, why?” Simon’s eyes lock onto your half-lidded pair. “I’m just tired, baby, and in shock. You’re right here. In front of me, right now.” You say, lifting your hand to tug at the shirt covering his chest.

Slowly, you drag your open palm up and over his collarbones, pushing him forward to close the gap between you by the nape of his neck. His thumbs add pressure into your hips, bruising them as you thread his fingers through your own, he groans in your mouth as you lightly tug his hair. His tongue glides past yours in a perfect synchrony, showing the desire he held for you. You need him, and he needs you, and that’s entirely evident. “Simon, slow…I don’t want to wake our neighbors,” you breathe as you separate from him. His eyebrows furrow. “I need ya—don’t care if I wake the entire damned city up.” He says sourly.

Your cheeks heat up and your eyes flicker down to Simon’s fingers fumbling with the fronts of your robes. You assist him, untying the little knot of the bow you secured, furtherly exposing your black floral bralette with matching panties. He inhaled sharply, his eyes burning into your cleavage and hip dips. “Fuckin’ bloody massacre…” he cranes his head down, planting kisses over your upper breasts, meeting your lips with a soft peck, you mumble his name, catching his attention. “Y’r a’ready gettin’ all worked up, love.” He teasingly drags his middle finger up over your clothed cunt, making you twitch.

“Oh—“ you moan.

“Tha’s exactly how I can tell ya ain’t had a good fuck in some time…So sensitive to everything. Ya want me to fuck you senseless, sweetheart? Is that what ya want?”

He bucks his hips against yours, enough to rile you up. “Please, Simon,” you choke out, gripping his shoulders. “Atta girl,” he lowers himself down and kisses your inner thighs, biting the flesh hard enough to leave marks. “Sweet girl”, he hums below you. You gasp and dig your nails into his skin through his shirt, wiggling as he licks and teases the bitten skin. “I need you,” you sigh in ecstasy to his touch. “I’ve been craving you.” He groans at your blind solicitation, propping your legs up from behind your knees before spreading them apart.

His fingers grip the waistband of your panties before he tears the fabric off from you with just one hand. “Simon!” You yelp as your eyebrows furrow. “Those were expensive…” He huffs below you, kissing your raw skin. “Don’t care—“ he pauses a moment, pulling from your legs to snatch a box from the coffee table beside the both of you.

“Open.” Simon nearly commands, filling you with a slight excitement yet confusion. “Didn’t have time to wrap, ‘sorry.” He watches you take off the lid of the silver glitter box, your eyes immediately widening with marvel.

A new lingerie set to add to your drawer, it was a laced pink set with a little gem hanging in the center front of both the panties and brassiere. Underneath, a perfume you’d been talking to him about like a mad woman, and a pearl necklace with a diamond heart pendant.

You give him a toothy grin, immediately wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull him into your chest, he lets out an amused huff. “Happy anniversary, love.” Simon hums against your ear, kissing your collarbone. “Happy anniversary, Simon.” You say back breathlessly.

He sets the box back down on the coffee table after you let go of his shoulders, then he tugs his shirt over his head, piling it on the rug with his gear. He dips down again between your thighs and laces his tongue down your folds from your clit. “So precious,” he coos. You immediately arch your back up and squeal, but he presses his palm against your abdomen, pushing you down.

You bite down on your lip to suppress your noises, and you instinctively slam your thighs together in embarrassment. It’d been so long. “Stop.” He says with a low growl. “Y’r beautiful, love. Nothin’ to be nervous ‘bout, y’hear me?”

His thumb pulls down your bottom lip from your teeth’s hold, causing you to smile softly. “Y’r gorgeous, inside and out. Let me show ya what I mean…” Simon thumbs your robes off entirely with featherlight touches and hoists you up by the back of your thighs. “Si?” You blink, watching as he lays down below you, setting you down hard on his hips.

His pants are dented with a bulge, struggling to breathe under the constraints of his cargos. Your slick cunt wets the fabric below you, and you bite the inside of your cheek, slowly rubbing yourself against the tent in his pants, earning a deep groan from your husband.

“Tryin’ somethin’ new,” he says. “Scoot.” You look at him anxiously, trying to avoid your thoughts resorting to what you thought he was trying to do. “What?—“

“Scoot the hell up here ‘n sit on my damn face, woman.”

“Help me,” you murmur, causing his eyebrows to pinch together. You feel his cock twitch beneath you. “Please, please, Simon…” He obliges. His large and scarred hands cup your bottom, pushing you up and over his chest. “I don’t know if I can,” you mewl above him, and his eyes burn into yours. They melt you into pure liquid above him.

Your legs feel like pure jelly. “I know you can.” He says. “Hands on my chest, dig y’r nails into me if ya have to, understood?” You shake your head. His hands grip your ass tighter. “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, Simon,” You tremble, hardly able to hold yourself up even with his assistance. Slowly, he sets you on his lips, and you shiver at the first kiss pressed against your wet core. “That’s it, sweet angel.” Simon praises. Immediately, your fingers and hands curl against his lower chest, holding you up. Unholy and sinful sounds fill the living room as he attacks your cunt, lapping up your juices as they dribble down his chin and down his chest sticking to his stubble. “Oh! Oh, fuck!” You gasp loudly, flinging your head back as your nails dig into his skin. “Simon, Simon…!”

“That’s it love, let ‘em hear. Let ‘em know who makes you feel this good.” He growls against you, causing your already sensitive thighs to tremble and your muscles to convulse. Simon’s tongue separates your folds, his nose bumping your clit causing you to squeal. “I could jus’ drown in this sweet cunt,” he groans, causing something to swarm in your chest and stomach from his words. “Keep lookin’ at me, babe.” He commands.

“I can’t,” you whine.

“You can. Bullshit.” His hands move to your hips, allowing his fingernails to dig into the dips, holding you up. “Simon…” you stammer his name over, and over, and over again.

“Ride my face, you beautiful fuckin’ slag.” Simon orders, tugging your hips forward to bump your cunt further against his nose as he buries his tongue into you, curling into your hole. Reluctantly, you take control and roll your hips against him. “Oh fuck…” he breathes heavily. His tongue retracts, and he sucks and flicks his tongue on your clit, driving you to the complete edge. Simon grunts. “Holy shit—fuckin’ gorgeous.”

“Fuckin’ needed this…” He moans below you. Against you. You let out a sharp cry of utter pleasure, earning a positive reaction from him. “Needed you…” Simon lets go of you, your body falling flush against him, increasing the pressure.

“No, no—“ you twitch and moan breathlessly, your breath hitching in your throat. It was all too much. A knot ties in your stomach. He wasn’t done. Of course he wasn’t. “Simon!” You scream and lower your head, taking a hand to smear away your slick from his cheek.

One finger swirls over your bud, then side to side at an almost inhuman pace as he sucks on you. He knew exactly what killed you. Your stomach sucks in and your shoulders slump above him as your entire body seems to break into short spasms.

“Such a fuckin’ good girl…” He praises, lifting you a moment. “Don’t stop talking, oh—please, please,” you beg him, your lips quivering. He abides. “Ya think you could cum to just my voice alone?” You moan out in agreement to his question, shuddering as he slowly slides a finger in you.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon breathes sharply. “Y’r tightenin’ around my finger like yer damned life depends on it.” He chuckles low and works on the skin across your inner thighs, covering them in red and purple love bites as he pumps his middle finger in and out of your heat.

Simon attempts to push his pointer finger in you, but you object in pain, arching your back up. “Simon—” you mumble. “Shiiiiiitt…We’ll work ya open, love.”

He presses his lips messily against the side of your knee for a split moment, then starts to slowly work a second digit in again, whispering sweet incoherent praises below you. “I’m gonna…” You manage to say, he hushes you softly by pinching the skin on the inside of your left thigh.

“C’mon then,” he urges. Two fingers slowly move into your cunt while his tongue curls around your throbbing clit, you practically fold. “Cum—cum for me,” he croons against your core. His stubble adds in an extra sensation that’s truly unimaginable.

Your spine arches above him and your nails drag along his scarred skin. He groans. A noise you’ll never get over. “Fuckin’ minx—you like that, sweet girl?” He gruffly purrs, his eyes locking to yours as you look down at him, your mouth slightly ajar as you moan with fluttering lashes.

“So damn gorgeous like this,” Simon glides his thumb over your sensitive clit, fingers entering and exiting your warmth. “You’re so fuckin’ tight…” Your husband praises, extinguishing your pre-insecurities. You tighten around him and he lets out an approving mumble. Once you release around his fingers, he shoves deeper into you, pushing your liquids back inside to watch it drip out of you. “That’s it, sweet girl.”

“Delicious,” Simon groans as he laps up your juices from off his fingers, savoring the taste of your release. He always knew what to say to make your belly swarm with butterflies. You bite your bottom lip shyly.

You let out a heavy sigh in an attempt to soothe the muscle spasms in your thighs. Simon slowly lifts himself up, holding your back to keep you against him, tapping your right thigh roughly with four fingers to instruct you to wrap around him.

“Where are we going?” You question softly. “Room,” Simon grunts back as he steps through the threshold of your shared bedroom.

He pauses, staring at his side of the bed being unkempt. “Did’ya sleep on my side?” His eyes shoot down to meet yours. “I’ve been, sorry.” You bite the tip of your tongue gently.

“No, don’t.”

“Don’t apologize for that.”

Your heart rate rises and your fingers curl against his chest. “I have something for you,” you coo lightly and wriggle in his hold to ask him to let you down. He does, one of his dark eyebrows shifting higher than the other in confusion.

Once your feet meet the ground, you walk quickly to your side of the bed, fingers hooking the straps to a small black bag with thin wrapping.

You hesitate. One hand grips the bag, a loud crinkle filling the room, and you close your eyes.

It felt as if the air all around you was being swallowed whole and your throat was tightening in an attempt to catch up with the disintegrating air.

You feel Simon’s back press against you as he takes the bag out of your hands slowly, his lips pressing onto the back of your head.

“Breathe, sweetheart,” he says almost silently.

You turn and lift your head up to look at him, and he takes a hand to caress your cheek with his thumb before he retracts and pulls out the wrapping inside the bag.

His eyes widen a moment, and you feel nervous. He pulls out the small infant onesie, his view flashing to look over your face with concern.

“Simon,” you take a step closer, adjusting the robes to cover you up slightly. “I want to be the mother of your baby.” You say as you rub over your cuticles. “Please, don’t leave me alone this time, I want you to fuck me full of you,” you trace the bulged muscles on his neck as he stands in silence.

“Si? I’m sorry, I knew I should’ve waited, I’m—“ you take a step back, shaking your head as you let out a scoff.

He grabs your arm, pulling you back towards him as your name leaves his mouth nearly silently. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, love.”

Your hands grip both of his biceps reassuringly, head tilting up to place a gentle kiss on the scar that laced from his chin down to an inch of his neck. “You are nothing like him, baby,” your voice reaches nothing below a whisper. “I don’t fear you, not around me, and I won’t fear you around our child.”

Slowly, your fingertips dragged down to the hem of his shirt, pulling it above his belly button before he took it off entirely himself, his neck scooping low to connect your lips together.

Simon’s tongue snakes across your own, a hot breath that tastes like whiskey filling your senses. You release a weak moan into his mouth as you turn your head to deepen the kiss, fingers dragging up the nape of his neck to curl through his blonde locks.

Your husband backed you towards the wall, his hands exploring between your inner thighs and pressing roughly into the already bruised skin. Simon groaned in your mouth before breaking contact to allow you both to breathe.

“Fuckin’ bloody massacre…” He mutters against your skin, his lips moving down the crevice of your collarbones to the dip in the middle of your neck. The roughness and scarring of his lips increased the friction.

He hooks your leg up with his hand from under your knee. Simon used his other hand to press a finger into you, causing a small squeak to spill from your mouth. You let out a moan as the heel of his palm bumps up against your clit. “That’s right sweetheart,” he purrs grimly.

“Oh-ho…good girl.” Simon chuckles as he pumps his finger in and out of your warmth, your slick coating his middle finger and dripping down his knuckles.

You whine, bucking against him and assisting him to go deeper inside your cunt. Simon’s head cranes as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth. “Pretty little slut,” he groans. Your husband slips in another finger, earning a gasp from you as they hook inside you and hit a spot that makes your eyes widen. “All this is mine.”

As he starts to quicken his pace, feeling you tighten around him and start to reject his fingers, your orgasm pushes forward on. “Come on, baby,” Simon praises, using his thumb to toy at your clit. “Simon!” Your legs twitch at every little touch to the sensitive surface, his name leaving your name with a wince.

Your legs spasm as you reach your release once again, his fingers leaving you with a wet squelch as he starts to clean his fingers off with his tongue. “Y’taste incredible, princess.” He says, and it makes you throb even further with his sexy smirk on top of his lustful words.

Simon could eat you out like you were his last meal. He loved tasting you, licking up between your folds and pushing his tongue inside your warmth, sucking and swirling on your clit leaving you an absolute mess. He loved the wet sounds that came from it mixed with your moans and whines.

“I need…” you mumble lightly, wrapping your trembling hands around his neck. Simon’s left eyebrow arches as he lets out a small “hmm?” of curiosity. “Use your words, babygirl.”

“I need you inside of me, please, fuck me, Simon,” you whined. His grin is wolfish.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you feel his lips suddenly envelop one of your nipples, his tongue lacing over the sensitive skin as he lightly sucks on the bud.

When he retracts, a string of saliva from your breast to his lips drips down your breast.

“Turn around and spread those beautiful legs, love.” He lifts his head up to whisper against your ear, pressing a kiss to the part of your neck below your earlobe. “Use the wall and brace yourself.”

You moan out your approval as he helps you turn yourself on your ankles. You spread your legs and bend at the waistline, pressing your palms against the pearly white wall of your shared bedroom.

“Atta girl,” he praises. “Such a good dirty little whore.” Simon drags his thumb down between your folds causing you to shiver. “Putting this pretty little pussy out on display for me.” His gruff accent only causes your knees to buckle beneath you as you let out a pitiful moan.

You feel your cunt throbbing at the sound of Simon unlooping his belt. You blatantly back your hips into his and grind yourself against the dent of his pants.

His groans fill the room as he grips the dips in your hips with one hand to keep you still. Simon’s belt meets with the floor and you watch him kick his cargos away after they pool around his ankles. “Fuck…” He hisses.

Simon frees himself from the restraints of his boxers, pulling his cock through the fly and holding it against your ass. “Y’feel how worked up y’get me, love?”

He leans himself forward closer to your ear as he slowly rubs his cock between your folds, coating it in your wet and warm slick. The moan he releases is intoxicating.

“Want me t’make you cum on my big cock?” He whispers lowly, then moans out your name as he slowly presses his tip into you. Your name rolls off his tongue perfectly, like the way oil feels against skin.

You give him a desperate whimper as you feel his tip stretch you open, and you push yourself back further on him to assist him.

“Slow, babe.” He coos. You choke on a moan, a hand nearly sliding off the wall before Simon threads his fingers with yours, pinning it back against the wall as you ride his tip. “Oh my god,” you gasp.

Simon bites the skin of your neck; a searing, beautiful pain that only drives you to insanity as you buck yourself gently back and forth, down the head of your husband’s dick.

“Beautiful girl, stretch yourself open on me, use me.” He demands.

He wanted it to be easy on you, gentle. Simon was bigger than you’d ever expected, it always took a little longer than expected for your body to adjust to his size, and he was patient with you. Mostly.

Slowly, you push yourself farther down the length of his dick, filling your cunt up with him. You wanted your pussy to swallow him whole. You craved it.

Simon gripped your thigh as he thrusted himself deeper inside, you let out a shrieked moan, causing him to groan. “This okay?” He asks above you. “Yes,” you drawl with a moan following.

“Love the way y’sound,” he leads you onto him with a hand squeezing your waist, backing you up and down his cock. “And this pretty little tight pussy.”

The warmth of his tongue wets the base of your neck before he gives it an open-mouthed kiss, dragging his tongue in a horizontal motion. He roughly sucks on the raw and pleading skin.

“Mmm…” Simon moans against your skin feeling your hips finally meet with his as you take his entire cock in you. “That’s it…that’s it my sweet girl, my perfect little slut. Y’can take it.”

His hips thrust faster, pulling you back with his palm on your ass as he ruts into you. Simon plants a rough smack against your ass, a lustful chuckle leaving the depths of his throat seeing the skin bounce to his behest.

“Fuck,” you pant. Sounds of skin slapping fill the room, your mouth held agape as he snaps into you, a perfect set pace as he fucks you, hard.

“Please, please,” you moan as he takes a fist full of your ass and slams you down onto him, you let out a cry.

“Please what, sweet girl?”

“Make me…” a moan leaving your throat interrupts you mid-sentence, “…make me cum, make me cum on your big cock…I need you to…”

Simon hums gruffly. “Your gorgeous begs. Beautiful moans.” His fingers tighten over yours, locking his with your own.

You’re writhing beneath him, thighs threatening to give in and make your body meet with the wooden flooring. “Yes, yes…” you moan, each thrust inside of you causing your words to choke out with each heavy breath. “So good to me, so good…” You feel his cock twitch inside you at your whined and strained praises.

Just as he finds that perfect spot inside of you, your back arches. He slides his hand up the dip in your spine to grab your hair and pull it back, allowing him more access to your neck.

Simon drags his lips up your neck until he’s nibbling your lobe. “Yeah? Right there, love?” He croons sexily. “Y’like that?”

“Want me to fuck you right there?” He asks, you moan in reply, but he yanks your head back. “Tell me.”

“Ah—yes, yes…” you practically mewl as you feel your husband bottom out inside you, hitting your cervix with every deep and slamming thrust.

“So…so close!”

Your eyes water as you felt your muscles tighten in your body, your blood pumping lethargically through your veins insisting that you keep yourself from letting your legs give in beneath you.

Drool collected at the corners of your swollen and sore lips that you’d been gnawing at with the top row of your teeth as he filled you up to the hilt with his length and thickness.

“Fuck—“ he gasps. “Fuck…fuck…” Simon’s voice is hitched in his throat, almost as if the air around him was being consumed.

With one swift motion, he turns you around after pulling out of you and picks you up by cradling your ass, lips immediately crashing into one another as he roughly yanks you back down onto him.

“So good, so warm ‘n wet for me…” He wets your bottom lip with his tongue. Your nails dig into the skin on his upper back causing him to hiss into your mouth. “Taking me so well, sweet girl.”

You moan in pure ecstasy into his mouth, abrupt whines and whimpers leaving you everytime he hits your cervix. “Fuck me, fuck me, make me see stars!” You beg.

He backs you up against the wall and your hands meet with Simon’s hair, pulling his head back to attack his mouth with your own as he quickened his pace inside of you, attacking your cunt and making your slick coat between your thighs.

Simon slams into you once more, pausing a moment to rub along your abdomen, you let out a sob.

“Look at how full of me you are, bloody hell, babe.”

Your lolling head struggles to allow you to focus. He grabs your chin, pinching your lips together slightly forcing you to look down at the small bulge in your stomach from his size. You manage a small noise before he plants a long kiss against your forehead, helping you straighten your back before colliding your hips together once more.

His hand leaves your chin and settles back onto your ass, giving it yet another harsh smack to knock you back into your senses. Your eyes widen for a moment before they return to being half-lidded.

Simon chuckles, biting down on your bottom lip and pulling it back before releasing it.

“So cock-drunk for me, baby,” he purrs wolfishly. “C’mon, a little longer, princess.”

“Fuckin’ gorgeous.” Your husband thumbs away a bead of drool dripping down the outer corner of your lips.

You whimper in reply, tugging at his blonde hair lightly, which you knew always drove him absolutely crazy.

“Fu—..ck!” A yelp leaves your lips as you pull yourself out of stupor and grip his shoulders, slamming yourself down on him, he releases a noise similar to a growl and a moan, whatever it was, you felt your walls spasm around him.

He moaned your name.

“Yes, yes, fuckin’ perfect, fuckin—“ he groans, a finger finding your clit as he fucks you through your orgasm, riding his own. “Gonna cum, so fuckin…Ah,” he grunts at every thrust.

“Cum with me…c—um…now.” He’s practically stuttering, speaking through clenched teeth.

You moan as the muscles in your legs start to tense, your cunt clinging to him as your orgasm rolls off.

Simon bites down on one of the many hickeys littered across the skin of your neck.

“Si—..mon!” you cry out, hands trembling as you drag one down the side of his face, peppering kisses wherever your neck could stretch and reach.

You smile, lips quivering as you feel him release into you, your own cum leaking down between your legs and down his own.

“That’s it, that’s it…cumming for me, making such a dirty mess, such a good fuckin’ girl…” he sucks on your bottom lip.

Simon thrusts his cum back into your pulsating cunt, making sure not to waste a single drop.

“Th..ank you, thank you..” you slur. “Mmm…yes, Si…”

It wasn’t over, he wasn’t done, and you loved it. You wanted him more than ever.

You whimper as you feel him slide out of you, immediately missing the warmth he provided. Two fingers slide over your wetness, as he watches it drip out of you, he fucks it back into you with those same two fingers.

Slowly, he raises them to your mouth, and you lock eyes with him as he pulls down your bottom lip.

Without hesitation, you lace your tongue up his fingers, then between them, lapping up your shared orgasm. He whispers soft praises into your ear as you take his fingers into your mouth, sucking off your mixed slick as you reach Simon’s knuckles, a loud and wet pop sounding as you release his fingers.

“Wrap y’r legs ‘round me, pretty girl.” He hums lowly.

You abide.

He picks you up from off the wall, connecting your lips. He groans into your mouth. “So soft, smell so good.”

Simon uses his elbow to open the bathroom door, pressing his back against it to allow you both in. The sound of your skin slapping against the dark grey marbled countertop he sets you on echoes. “Simon!” You laugh gently.

His hand dips to the nape of your neck, fisting in your thick hair and tugging your head back to allow his lips to attack your neck. He groans against your abused skin as you drag your fingers along the scars on his chest, your fingers tracing his clavicles with featherlight touches.

Simon’s mouth leaves your neck once again, yet another mark of his possession towards you marking your skin.

He finally kicks off his boxers entirely, tossing them into the corner of the bathroom.

He strokes himself a moment, aligns his cock with your entrance, and slowly pushes himself inside of your pussy.

Your mouth is held agape, as your eyebrows thread together and your eyes squeeze shut.

“Open, open those pretty eyes, I want to watch y’come apart for me.”

He whispered your name like a prayer, and each time you extended a little noise to his fragments of praise and adoration, watching you come undone on the counter of the bathroom you share.

“Gorgeous little minx,” he whispers as his lips brush against yours, breathing heavily against your chin and neck.

You feel the heat radiating off his thighs as they brush against your bare and silky clean-shaven legs.

He groans as your smooth folds envelop his needy cock, still throbbing and pleading for him to fuck you full again. Your sweat-slicked chest drags against his, breasts flattening as your arms loop over his neck. “Y’feel so fuckin’ good, love…”

“I lo—ve you,” you moan, choking on your own words. He sinks deeper into you, moaning in reply to your words, your thighs growing numb as he engraves his fingers into your skin. “God, Simon.”

“Like this pussy was made f’r me…” your husband sneers.

He slides back out, slamming into you ruthlessly, repeating the motion twice until he bottoms out. You cry out yet another moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Fuck, those moans…” he chuckles. “Singin’ me a goddamn song, aren’t ya, sweetheart?”

Simon growls, roughly sliding his hands underneath your thighs and pulling you towards him, pulling your legs further apart. You let out a ragged gasp as he hammers into you, his dick curving perfectly into a spot that causes your legs to spasm in his grasp. “Pl—,”

You let out a scream. A scream that was slurred, a scream of pleasure and pure high.

It ripped from you. Your orgasm. He still slams into you, wet sounds of squelching filling the entire bathroom as he fucks your climax back inside of your hole.

He applies more force into the spot that aching place that practically makes you squeeze around him.

He laughs. A brief yet whole hearted laugh. “Fuckin’ hell, that was new…”

“Y’ve never finished that fast before,” Simon breathed against your ear.”

“I’m sorry,” your cheeks flush and you cry out another moan as your skin sticks to his from your wetness.

“Don’t ‘cha ever b’fuckin sorry for that.” He says, hitching into the back of your cunt once more. He lets out a grown as he accidentally slams his knee into the cabinet below you.

“Oh—Oh fuck! Simon, d...-don’t stop! Please—fuck!”

At each thrust your breath hitched in your dry throat. You gagged on air. You gasped out his name.

He twitches inside of you, the veins of his cock bucking against your walls. Your knees buckle as Simon’s fingers clasp both of your nipples and he rolls the sensitive nubs between his thumbs and pointer fingers.

“My good girl makin’ sucha mess on me,” he chuckles. “So fuckin’ pretty.”

Your eyelashes flutter as you buck your pelvis into his hips.

“Oh, god—fuck…” he grunts. “That’s it, baby, my good little slut.”

“Jesus—‘m so proud of you, takin’ my fat cock in your small little pussy.”

You swallow the thick ball of spit clogging your throat. “Ye—yes, I feel so good,” you moan. “You—..make me feel so good. So big.”

“Y’did such a good job, baby.” Simon praises as he pinches your nipples.

“Give me your tongue. Out.”

When you comply, he takes your tongue into his mouth, swiping it with his own. You whine into his mouth as he sucks on your tongue, lacing his spit with your own. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss, traversing through your mouth as he fucks you up against the counter.

“God—taste so good.” He purrs.

“Jus’ wanna break you.” A hand leaves your tit to swirl around your swollen clit, you squirm beneath him. “All mine.”

His pace grows slower, so you rock your hips into his to help, earning a deep and groggy moan to claw from his gullet.

“Cum in me, fill me up,” you beg, putting pressure with your thumbs into both sides of the base of his neck. “F—Fill my pussy up, use me…”

Simon’s hips thrust into you so hard the clutter of toothbrushes rolls off the counter and onto the floor—it feels almost as if the walls of the bathroom are shaking.

He let out a staggered, heavy breath. “Y’know how good my hard dick feels inside of you?” He encourages, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, then swing it back to let out a shuddered moan.

“So fuckin’ small ‘n tight around me.” Simon’s shins bang into the cabinets below you two. “Beautiful. So beautiful.” Your husband presses a kiss to your bottom lip regardless of your mouth being held ajar.

Your fucked out face etched with pure bliss only turned him on to the brinks. Even as he’s pounding unmercifully into your cervix, he watches your face as it twists into a mixture of pleasure and pain, the tip of his cock plummeting the one soft spot inside you.

Your heart pounds, as if it wants to push its way through your ribcage. You caress Simon’s muscled biceps that are adorned with ink markings reaching his wrists.

That familiar tightening at the lower bottom of your abdomen appears again, causing you to whine and dig your nails into Simon’s arms, your back arching as you wiggle your hips in his grasp. “That’s it, lovie, soak my cock.” He hums. “So damn proud of ye f’r takin’ me again.”

Simon pushes himself deep inside you. “Got me fuckin’ a baby in ye. Tha’s what’chu got me doin’ ‘ere. Want ‘vryone to watch your little belly grow with my seed? Let ‘em know who y’belong to?”

“C’mon, baby, cum nice ‘n hard on this dick. C’mon.”

You nod and moan. “Yours—only yours…” The coil in your stomach finally snapped, tears pricking your eyes and making their way down your cheeks.

“Take it, take it…Oh..shit..” He huffs and moans, rubbing over the bulge in your lower stomach. “That’s it…That’s it, lovie.”

Your cunt convulsed around him and he continued rutting inside you, rambling praises as your cum leaks down your legs and coats his pubic hair.

“Oh—oh fu..ck!” He moans, mouth being held open as his head flings back. Small whimpers leave him, god it’s adorable.

Simon releases into you, fingernails tracking into your waist, enough to draw small details of blood across your porcelain body.

Hot and heavy pants leave your husband’s open mouth.

“Absolute goddess, a feast f’r the eyes.” He respires sharply, helping you off the counter. Your hips collide with his again.

You twitch as your head slumps down on his shoulder, teeth nibbling and lips kissing against the flesh you can reach.

“So small on me.” He groans into your ear, sending a shockwave between your legs.

One hand stays splayed across the small of your back, while his other holds a bruising grip on your hip, thumb rolling a circular motion into your warm skin.

Simon takes you both back into your bedroom, laying you flat on the bed, watching hungrily as your tits bounce from the impact onto the velvety sheets.

“Oh-ho… those gorgeous tits…” your husband kneads your breasts in both of his palms, massaging the soft and tender flesh.

“Can’t wait to see ‘em swollen with milk, needy and jus’ beggin’ to be touched by me.”

Simon litters gentle kisses across both of your breasts, causing you to squirm and arch your back. He gently shushes you, dragging a palm through your soft and messy hair.

“That what’ya want, baby? Want me to milk your tits dry when they’re hard and full?” He drags his tongue along the curves of your breasts and up to the muscle of your neck.

“Mhm…please…” you murmur, trailing your hand up his spine to the nape of his neck, gripping his tail of blonde hair to pull his head down and crashing his lips onto yours.

He pushes his tongue past yours, then rubs the tip of it along the crevices of the inside of your mouth. Simon groans into your throat.

You both trade spit, fighting for a form of dominance with your tongues, which ends up in your defeat as usual as you both disconnect from each other's swollen and glistening lips.

“Simon, please…” you moan, tugging his hair slightly, earning a low growl from the larger male above you.

“Please what, baby? Tell me what you want.” He cranes, being hovered above you, thumbs still massaging your breasts as his cock slightly teases your throbbing entrance.

“Please let me suck your dick,” you slur, fingers teasingly tracing over one of the veins on the base of his cock. He huffs out a cloud of air that’d been surfacing in the depths of his lungs.

“Look at you, askin’ so nicely, how could I say no?” He practically purrs. “Like a personal little cockslave, aye?” A short chuckle leaves Simon.

“Sit up, on y’r hands ‘n knees. ‘M going to play with that precious pussy as you take me in y’r mouth. I want to watch you break as I bruise your pretty little throat with my thick cock.”

You feel something tighten inside of you at Simon’s filthy words, immediately lifting yourself up from your back flat against the mattress of your king-sized bed, you let one of his hands find your hair and tug your head back.

“Open y’r mouth, baby.” He purrs, brown eyes narrowed and looking down at you with pure love and lust. “Stick that cute little tongue out.”

Your eyelashes angelically flutter as you expose your tongue to your husband. He takes himself in his hand and slaps the tip of his cock against your tongue, making you clench your legs and wiggle your waist, a hum in your throat exiting and filling the room.

“Shit…sweetheart…the things y’do to me.” Simon groans. “Stroke me. Show me you deserve this cock in your tight little throat. Keep your mouth just like that.”

His words, his instructions—you submitted to him without hesitation or thought to mind.

You took your hand and swiped your slick from your cunt with four fingers, then rubbed it up and down his base a moment before wrapping your hand around his dick, earning a groan from him.

He was so big in your tiny hand, it turned you on to nearly your limits.

You rolled your wrist as you jerked his base up and down, once in a while thumbing at the needy slit at the tip of his cock. “Ah, fuck…Those small hands do wonders…” Simon moans, jerking his hips to match your thrusts up and down his shaft. “Such a good fuckin’ girl…so proud of you.”

It took everything in you to not pull this man forward and take him into your warm and wet mouth, but you knew he was in command, and disobeying him would result in orgasm denial. He was so incredibly good at edging you, it was torturous.

“Fuck—you drive me crazy, love…” he nearly whines as you massage his scrotum. You offer him a small open-mouthed laugh.

“Y’think that’s funny?” Simon pinches your cheeks together, a slight and incredibly sexy tilt in his head. “Don’t y’get smug wit’me, princess. Y’know who will win.”

You moan, feeling his fingers glide down to grip your jaw to tilt your head up once again. “You bein’ on your knees for me, huh, y’little minx?” He suddenly spits into your mouth and you shiver. Holy shit. He’d never done that before, and it drove you absolutely mad.

A deep laugh exits him. “Y’fuckin’ liked that, didn’t ya? Dirty little slut.”

Your thighs slam together once again and you grind against your skin, a whimpered gargle causing you to squeeze your eyes together in shame as you close your mouth. He prys it back open.

“Ah-ah, ah…” Simon hums lowly. “No—no. Don’t you swallow. Y’ve been bein’ so good.” He chuckles with a groan following it. “Wouldn’t want to ruin that, now, would we?”

“Tilt your head.”

You comply and he spits down your throat again, he feels your hand start to tremble against his cock.

“Good girl…” He adjusts his hand in your hair, tapping your fingers away. You press your hand back onto the bed.

He takes a step forward and drags the tip across your bottom lip, just dancing along the tip of your tongue.

“Go.” He commands, and you immediately lick a stripe down his twitching cock.

“Let me watch as you come undone on my cock,” he groans as he reaches his hand under you to play with your pussy lips.

You bob your head on his tip, your tongue dragging alongside the slit of his hole.

He hissed through his teeth watching you move down his shaft, licking up and down it. You were thankful not to have a sensitive gag reflex.

“Ah—that’s it…fuck…” he praises. “Your mouth feels so damn good around my cock.”

“C’mon on, baby. Take as much as you can. I’ll help ya.” He purrs.

You lower yourself down on his length and you feel him push you down until your nose meets with his fresh-clipped pubic hair and he bottoms out at the end of your throat, nearly engulfing all of him if he weren’t so big.

Tears run down your eyes as you whimper and squirm, begging for air. You gagging and moaning only increases his pleasure as you send vibrations to his cock.

“God…fuck…” his voice hitches as he toys with your clit. “I can feel your throat just clench around my dick as I stretch it out.” Simon groans.

“Just hold.”

“Hold—…Don’t…fuckin’…move…”

Simon moans as he slightly fucks the surface of your throat. “Fuck! I’m gonna cum…!” His fingers curl inside of your dripping core as you clamp around him.

He pulls you off of him by the back of your head, letting you fall on your back. You whine and sob from pleasure as he drags you towards him roughly by your ankle.

He manhandles you; grabbing both of your hips with a punishing grip to spread your legs out to his liking.

Your chest rises and falls at a rapid pace and you feel as though you might break when you feel him plummet into you once again. Your hands fall above your head, grasping the sheets with a devilish grip.

He bends over you, his dog tags dangling over your chest and bouncing tits as he roughly thrusts into you a few times. “Oh—oh…fuck…oh fff…—fuck….” Simon halts in motion to spill his cum inside of you, to which you cum not too long after him.

“Jesus H. Christ…” he mumbles, slowly bucking the juices back into you.

He lets out a prolonged and intense sigh, hand caressing the supple flesh of your cheek softly. “Jesus, lovie, y’r cryin’? It’s okay, sweetheart.”

His head lowers between your thighs to press gentle kisses against your trembling inner flesh. “Shh—shh…” He hums soothingly.

“I know…I know it hurts, y’r so sensitive to even me breathin’ against your tired pussy…” His voice softens seeing you let out a whimper as he blows his breath softly against your core.

“But you did such a good job, baby.” Simon praised you, pressing gentle kisses against your other inner thigh before taking himself up to plug your hole with his thumb as he pulled himself out.

Your husband connects lips with you once again, his hot breathing milking your mouth nearly in perfect synchrony with your motions.

“Want you to cum in my mouth,” you whine against his lips.

“Yeah?” Simon grunted lowly. “That’s what you want?”

You nod softly, and he sits himself on the bed, swinging his legs over and scooting towards the middle of the bed, his back against the frame.

“Show me you want it, go on,” he drags his hand up and down his length.

You crawl your way toward Simon, replacing his hands with your mouth, tongue grazing the tip as it swirls around the underside of the head of his cock.

“Just like that, baby, you’re in command.” He coos grimly, resting his hands on the rim of the bed frame. “Feels so good…”

Your hand pumps his length as your tongue licks a thick stripe of moisture from his scrotum to the tip of his aching cock, and he was making so many breathy noises. Bucking into your mouth madly.

“Mmm…f—ummm…” he practically snarled beneath you. “Makin’ me feel so good, lovie.”

“About to cum…” Simon grunts.

You already knew that—you could tell by the way his cock twitched inside of your mouth at each kitten lick to his slit.

He presses his head farther into the feathered pillow under his neck as he feels his orgasm approaching, a hand dripping off the frame of the bed to push a strand of your hair behind your ear as you take as much as you can of him down your throat without his assistance.

He chuckles hearing you gag on him as he abruptly thrusts himself farther into you before his cum spurts down your throat.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you hollow out your cheeks to swallow, slowly shaking your head side to side as you push him deeper down your sore gullet.

Simon lightly pats your cheek as he watches your eyes flutter shut. “Y’alright there, love?” He snickers.

Once your eyes reopen, his own fill up with patent devotion towards you.

“Ah, if only y’could see y’rself right now…” his hand strokes your cheek lovingly, lightly pulling the skin as if you’re the most fragile creature in existence.

“Blown out pupils—so damn cockdrunk from me, ay?” He cups your ass, pulling you off of his cock with a soft pop, drool dripping off your puffy pink lips and dribbling down your chin.

“Must b’absolutely knackered.” He swipes away the droplage with his thumb.

You open your mouth to speak but he calmly shushes you.

“Don’t speak, love, let me take care of’ya.” He hums into your hair before cradling you in his arms and swinging off the bed.

“Let’s get’ya to the washroom, ay? Have a warm shower t’untense y’body.” A soft kiss is pressed to your temple as he carries you back into the bathroom—that as you furtherly come off the high of it all, reeks of sex—and sets you atop the toilet seat a moment.

Simon turns the shower on as he has a hand extended out to run through your messy hair.

The water squeaking and spitting out assists you with slightly stirring out of your drunken state.

He picks you up once again after opening the glass sliding doors, stepping in under the warm water with your legs wrapped around his waist.

When the water beads down his shoulders and onto your nude chest, you let out a tiresome moan, your face hiding in the crook of your husband’s neck.

“I know, sweet girl,” he hums. “I’ve got’ya…”

Slowly, Simon sets you back on the floor, holding the small of your back as he feels your legs give in.

“Shit, baby, hold on to my neck. Can y’do that?” He whispers against your ear.

You mumble incoherent words. Your legs feel like absolute jelly beneath you as you raise your arms above your head. You clasp your hands over his neck and whine as he litters kisses over your jawline and cheeks.

“Good, there you are.” He praises gently. “J’s keep holdin on, I’ll wash y’up.”

Simon takes a bottle of shampoo, popping the cap and squeezing suds onto his open palm.

You flutter messy kisses along his stubble as he massages the soap through your hair, fingers kneading into your scalp and ends. God it felt amazing.

He continues the same process with the conditioner, then washing it out by turning himself around so you’re under the water. He umbrellas his hand over your eyes as he helps you tilt your head back under the streaming water.

You moan at his touch and gentle kisses under your ear and across your forehead as he rubs the rose pink loofah soaked in suds over your body, coating it in soap with gentle rubbings.

Simon makes sure to clean every lithe inch of your body before turning off the running water.

“A’right, lovie, can y’hold y’self up a few moments? Gon’ wrap ya in a towel.” He coos in your ear.

When you give him a small nod, he presses yet another soft kiss to your temple. You release his neck and frown slightly when he rolls it along with his shoulders.

“Ah—no, ‘tis fine, babe. Don’t y’worry your pretty little head ‘bout it, hm?” He chuckles, a solemn and deep noise truly coming from the barbed wire wrapped heart of your husband. “Ain’t a problem, really, ‘could hold ya up all day if you needed me to.”

Simon opens the sliding doors to grab at a towel resting on the rack above the toilet, wrapping you and himself up comfortably before you’re up in his arms bridal style.

Again, you’re back in your bedroom, he sits you on the bed and drags a pair of dark purple lace-trim panties up your legs, pulling one of his rolled up black t-shirts over your head and down your torso.

Simon fits himself in a pair of black briefs before helping you under the covers beside him, pulling you flush against his chest with one swift motion.

His hand brushed over your hair, pushing it out and away from your face, a guttural noise close to a chuckle escaping Simon’s lips at the sight of you kipped and drooling above his left pec, legs tangled with his.

He runs a hand through his wet blonde locks a moment before he situates you on top of him, palms resting over both of his shoulder blades with one of your legs straight and the other bent in the shape of an upside down ‘V’.

Simon’s hands cup your ass before his head leans back into the soft plumage of his pillow, blonde eyelashes fluttering closed to chase sleep.

#simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghostheartfelt writing #ghost cod #ghostheartfelt #ghost mw2 #ghost modern warfare #simon riley smut #ghost riley smut #mw2 #mw2 x reader #call of duty mw2 #mw2 smut

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demonshauntingthedoves · 1 year

Text

Chapter 1

Perfedious : A disloyal and faithless person.

Pairing : Yandere!Seokjin x female reader (Mirae)

Summary : You had dreamt of a beautiful man who held a diamond ring in his hand for you and the dream had come true when you saw Seokjin holding the same diamond ring and he slipped it on - your sister's finger - not yours. Sometimes what you want happens in the worst way possible.

Warnings : Heavy Angst, Family Problems, Age gap, Dilf, Dub-Con, Infidelity, Affair, Toxic Behaviour, Eventual Yandere, Eventual Smut, Just wait for Seokjin's dark Pov [hehehe].

WordCount : 4200+

The bus engine roars to life and so does your heart, anticipating to be free from the weight it holds. As the vehicle pulls away from the curb, you sank deeper into your sit. You closed your eyes and drew out a sigh- surrendering and letting the bus drag you away from the sins you ploughed behind. Your weary eyes were fixated on the window, watching the cityscape fade away gradually. Slowly the streets grew smaller and blurrier.

You glimpsed at your reflection in the windowpane- hollow eyes tiredly fluttering. You saw the reminder of your pain decorating the red rims of your swollen eyes and that was enough to make your tears well up again. You clasped your lashes shut, guilty tears running down your pale cheeks.

In times when everything got too much. Too unbearable.

You'd done one and only one thing and that was runaway.

You'd go away.

Far away from home.

---------------

Harsh remarks, biting sarcasm, belittling words, that was all your mother had for you. Maybe that was what came as second nature to all mothers. They often nagged and ranted to their children.You'd even asked your friend Ari, if her mother also shouted at her all the time.

"Yeah, she scolds me but she always hugs me and caresses me after that." You ten year old friend had told you.

But your mother never did the latter part. She'd just leave you all sad and sobbing alone.

No loving words, no soft caress and no motherly warmth. You never got that. Atleast not after your father left home untold. It was after that day, her resentment towards you and your sister grew like a dark creeper. You'd never known the reason until one day you did.

"Your father left me because I couldn't give him a son!! There was no other reason for him to leave!!" She had spat irrationally on your faces.

It had hurt a lot at the sprouting age of twelve when she called you and your sister a liability. Minsu was older by eight years. Despite getting the same harsh treatment as you, you'd always thought she was at least lucky to have spent more years in the presence of father when everything was well. Unlike you who got no parental love and care.

Your mother had nothing to give you except her indifference.

No love.

No warmth.

And at some point, you stopped craving and begging for it as a child.

As the irritable years went by, it became more and more unnerving. And you no longer wanted to live like a quiet and depressed child, so you rebelled. You'd throw back comments and on queue the whole house would fill with shouts and screams. You were a total of three ladies in the house but the volume of noises that were heard outside were ten folds.

Your mother didn't wavered by your teenage rebellion. She just got more chances to cause drama. Reasonless arguing and condescending words.

Even public humiliation, the one time she came to meet your homeroom teacher. Nothing was worse when Miss.Choi had awkwardly asked you if she was your stepmother because indeed she treated you like one.

It became so exhausting that you gave up on fights and found ways to escape.

You stayed extras in school, went for night camps and trips, you just ran away from home.

This kept you away from your mother's temper tantrums for days.

You'd sleep more peacefully under the open starry sky than the roof of your own home.

-----------------

You were seventeen, when you had quite fortunately stumbled into this good-looking young man.

That time your nose had almost flared in anger looking at the feets of the stranger who had made you fall down until you looked up to see a handsome face.

That was the very first time you saw Seokjin.

Your face had changed from a dark shade of red to light shade of pink as you awed beautiful man.You were literally ogling at him from your tumbled down position.He was in his creaseless suit and dress pants.You had pretended to not notice the buckle of your knees when you took in his appearance.

How could a person be so handsome?

Your next camping trip was filled with whispers and giggles about the handsome man you had encountered and quite obviously got a little crush on. Your friend Ari had teased you all along the trip.She'd winked and nudged you with mischievous eyes and playful smile whenever you both shared a task and left you flustered.

It was under the canvas tents, that Ari had filled your head with intriguing and exciting scenarios about the man while chattering like a gleeful cat who was happy for her best friend to find a man for herself. Though it was far from the truth.

That day a tender symphony had played faintly in your heart.

That night, you had dreamt about him out of your impending fascination and admiration. 'His broad back; adorned in a white tuxedo; facing you. And then he turned back slowly- you stared at his beutific face, then his styled hair, then his pillowy lips and then his pretty eyes which fluttered up to look at you. You saw the caves filled with gems and diamonds in his sparkling eyes. And then you saw the velvet box in his hand which extended towards you.The box opened to reveal a precious diamond ring glazing so brightly that you shut your eyes from its intensity.'

Only to open your eyes and see Ari's groggy face the next morning.

Just the reminder of the fantasy brought a blushing hue on your face and fluttery feeling in your stomach. When you told Ari, she had squealed so loud in the bus and grinned at you.

"Your eyes are literally shining since you saw him, you know that." Ari told you in excitement.

"In all honesty, we should really go find him and then why not give it a try!!" Ari suggested.

And you shushed her because the single thought of meeting him again gave you tingles everywhere.

You had seen many girls with teeny tiny crushes but never thought you'd be one.

But again

You knew you were being stupid to dream about a man who was probably twice your age.

But again

It wouldn't hurt to dream.

-------------------

In the drapes of spring blossom, your sister got married.

As the vows and kisses were exchanged beneath the flower beds, your heart too, like the petals, fell to the ground.

The diamond in her ring finger shined just like the coat of tears welling up in your eyes.

Happy tears and sad tears.

You feigned the biggest smile till your cheeks hurt.

You had never thought you'd be so upset from inside at your beloved sister's wedding but you couldn't help it.

It was worth a grimace how familiar her groom looked to the man in your dreams.

Because indeed it was him.

Kim Seokjin

What a laughable coincidence it was!

Everything had happened so abruptly.

On the day you returned from your trip, you saw Seokjin for the second time.

But the foolish grin on your face was wiped away the moment you saw him sitting on your couch with your sister.

Their hands were intertwined like lovers.

And you were more surprised to see your mother's pleased face, who soon after declared they could wed in the coming week. The little celebration was carried on with clinks of wine glasses and plates of special dishes.

And you sat there dumbfounded and baffled by the sudden decision.

Minsu hadn't said a single thing about this.

Your sad face never went unnoticed by her and she explained to you with a calm sigh,

" I know Rae, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you but I was unaware that he liked me just as much I liked him."

"And then he proposed to me all of a sudden and I didn't feel like there was a single reason to say no."

And then she smiled bashfully like a damsel.

"Fate is a wondrous thing, Rae. I'm so grateful to the scriptor above wrote him in my fate."

Damn the scriptor.

You stomach had churned when you asked her,

"Do you love him?"

She looked at your glassy eyes.

"Do you think I'll marry a man I don't love?"

"Ofcourse I love him. Who wouldn't?" You felt your breath sink from her last sentence. You had seen the love and sincerity in her eyes.

Then her gaze shifted with concern to you and she squeezed your shoulder lightly.

"You are happy, right?" She asked you.

Your eyes darted away. You couldn't do this to her. You would not crush over her man. You should not.

You pulled her in a tight hug and hid your face as hopeless tears ran down your cheeks. You didn't know why you were feeling this myriad of emotions all of a sudden.

You couldn't place your finger on what you were feeling. There were so many things at once.

"Ofcourse I'm happy for you. J-just don't forget about me. Don't leave me alone with that omen." You heard her chuckle as she patted your hair.

"I will never leave you Rae, I promise."

------------------

And that was how you stood beside her as her maid of honour. You stole a few glances at Seokjin who was so blissfully unaware about the way your heart and stomach felt tingles by looking at him.

You were so shameless to stare at him with intent just to see if he was really there and you weren't dreaming again.

You're not gonna lie but Seokjin looked so exquisite in his attire. So so beautiful that you almost got lost in watching him smile.

Seokjin wanted to have a small and uncrowded ceremony. He booked a hotel which was decorated like paradise. Interior graced with soft looking pink and white roses. And the garden was filled with cherry blossoms.

It was a wedding everyone dreamt of.

Under the trees, you sat with a pout and looked at the couple who were busy posing and capturing the memories of their wedding in the garden. Post wedding shoot.

Seokjin and Minsu,

They looked good together.

Now that you consider thinking, you were actually being childish and stupid to even have thought that you held any chance with him.

It was a stupid crush.

Little doration and little fascination, that was it all.

And it was plain stupid and dumb, to put so much strain and stress to your mind with whatever you were feeling.

Not only you but anyone would wish to have a man like him.

That's it.

One thing you knew was Minsu was dear to you and you'd do anything for.

So what you had to do now was let go of this stupid crush and the intrusive thoughts that came with it.

He was your brother in law now.

Avoid it or not.

And yet again you couldn't control the loud beating of your heart as he walked over to where you sat. Behind him, Minsu was still posing in her wedding gown.

You inhaled his expensive rosewood perfume as he sat down beside you.

Thank God your ears were covered by your hair or else he would have seen how red and hot they had turned.

"So, did you enjoy the wedding, Mirae?" He tried to strike a conversation with you.

You tried not to shy away from his gaze even if you were squealing inside just by hearing your name roll down his tongue.

" I-I did, it was gorgeous with all the flowers." You smiled and stared at the rose in his hand.

"And the food?"

" I didn't get to try the buffet yet because mother warned me to not eat before you both. I need to accompany you both."

Your voice grew smaller at the end thinking you spoke more than you needed to.

You heard his melodious chuckles looking at your frowning face.

"You don't need to worry about it, you can just go and have the food. Minsu had specially selected your favourite dishes."

Your eyes brightened at that and you looked up at him only to see him fondly smiling at you. He looked so princely. Your hands unintentionally squeezed the fabric of your baby pink dress.

You shook your head,

"No, I'll better wait for you both. And I guess Minsu's shoot is about to end."

You both looked at Minsu who was flaunting in her white gown ahead. Dangling a large bouquet of roses in her hand.

In your periphery, you saw him fiddling with a rose in his hand. He might have used it for the photoshoot.

You flinched when a blossom fell on you and he laughed at you. Your cheeks would have been dusted red by now.

"Why don't we go on a walk near the river until she gets back?"

He gestured towards the river at the other end of the garden. You gave a tiny nod and walked side by side.

The ceremony had ended by late noon and now the sun was dipping down the river. You had to crane your neck up just to look at his side face.

" I didn't get to ask this before but are you happy for your sister? "

You were stunned for a moment but put up a smile and replied,

"Yes, why would I not be? You both love each other and that's enough for me to be happy for her"

That's enough for me to let my chance go.

You were already getting tired to answer this same question again and again. Sick of convincing yourself that you were, happy.

You gulped when he observed your face for a few seconds, his eyes reflecting the golden sunset behind you and then he nodded.

Peering into his bourbon eyes was making your breath uneven. He was so so handsome, you had never witnessed a man like him. It was so hard for you to conceal the velvet fondness in your eyes.

You tried not to stare.

You tried not to show.

You were about to turn your face away to stare at the river on other side and also to hide your reddened face. But he tucked your elbow lightly,

"Wait"

His face was merely away from yours as he leaned down with furrowed brows. Your heart almost cried happily at his soft touch.

The symphony had come back and played in your heart again. Pellucid.

His leaned closer and his sweet wine-tinged breath hit you. Your legs were shaking under your frock. You were being skittish. If not for the light grasp he had on your hand, you would have staggered back and fell in the open river. Because your legs were out of control.

Like your heart.

Like your breath.

Like the ruby blood rushing to your full cheeks.

What were you feeling?

And what was he doing?

He plucked something from your lash and held the tiny piece of petal that had stuck in your lashes unknowingly.

"Uh, I saw this. It would have gone in your eye so I removed it."

He said simply as if he didnt just wrench your breath away and backed away.

You swiftly turned around to look at the shining ripples of water. Your eyes darted everywhere but at him.

You gasped when you saw something on the ground and crouched to pick it up.

Seokjin furrowed his eyebrows and leaned to look at the little leaf flat against your little palm, as you showed it to him.

A four-leaf clover

"You know it's so rare to find. Only the luckiest ones get the chance."

He was amused by hearing that and asked,

"So does it have more speciality?"

You nodded hurried and told him,

" Yes it does! The first three leaves are for hope, faith and love. And the fourth one which is rare to exist brings luck."

"Hmm..So aren't you the lucky one?"

You wanted to laugh and tell him that you were anything but.

It was ironic

To find a four clover on one your unluckiest days, if you put it out like that.

You grinned at him to hide your grimace and shrugged,

" I hope so I am."

" Ofcourse you are, now you got a brother-in-law at your side."

He said playfully and proudly.

Your insides winced at the mention of that awful term, you were already annoyed with that claim.

"But honestly, I will always love and protect Minsu, and hopefully take care of you too. I never thought I'd have such a little sister in law." He babbled his confession.

You had got so caught up with that 'take care of you too' that you didn't hear what he said next.

"I know how you two have been close and dealt with-with your mother, but I promise that- from now on I'll keep your sister happy."

You were melting at his words, at his need to constantly reassure you. That he found you important enough to assure it to. He was making you feel like the bigger person by saying those sugary words. And no one had ever taken that effort.

He even offered you the small pink rose in his hand to seal his promise.

And you took it with dreamy eyes, which you were sure won't get any sleep tonight.

--------------

The bus screeched to a halt. You stepped down clumsily, clutching your bag. The bus drove off and you spun to walk forward as strides of your heels hit the cobblestoned lane of the small town.

The memories of your childhood swirled around you, winding through the streets like fleeting chuckles. Lollipops. Paper windmills. Little balloons. Your father.

This was his hometown.

The breeze caressed your face as if reassuring you that everything will be alright. You reached the designated home and knocked on the wooden door, only to be greeted by your Grandma's mushy face which bloomed with a welcoming smile.

The haven of herbs and medicines greet you next. Your grandma was a traditional therapist. She was known around for her herbal therapy. Everyone came to her 'Healing Home' for cure.

And maybe you did too. You came here for a cure. To seek her healing water which would wash you off your sins. To seek a balm to treat the wounds of remorse.

And to seek a refugee to coop up your pathetic broken self in.

It came easy for you to conceal what's inside you- your feelings. Conceal. Hide. Obscure them. That was what you had done all your life.

So just like your feelings, you wanted to hide yourself to. Anywhere. Away from prying eyes. Distant the whispers of blame and shame in your head. Detach yourself from his lingering scent.

You wanted to hide away and curl and cry and sought and mend yourself. And nothing was better than your grandmother's mending shelter.

She offered you tea. Caramel evenings were spend with honey teas and baked cinnamon rolls. You talked to her and told her how you wanted to take a break away from the city. You lied to her that office work was stressing and making you sick. You needed time away from all that and find peace.

Away from home.

Away from him.

Next I Main Masterlist

A/N : This chapter is pretty much about female mc and how she starts to like Seokjin.The seed is just sown. NGL it was way to angsty. Seokjin is good and kind in this and will be in further chapters until the facade slips.

Hope you all like this. Also comment if you wanna get added in the tag list.

@themochiverse

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thedeviltohisangel · 5 months

Text

All The Things I Did (Modern Era): You'd Have to Stop the World Just to Stop the Feeling

a/n: when I said my brain couldn't stop thinking of AUs...I kind of like the idea that Cass/John's souls reincarnate across time because they are always meant to be together. This is one example of that. It's been rattling in my brain for a little while and I've gotten it on paper and hope you fall just as deeply in love with this version as you have the original. Let me know your thoughts on this era and anything specific you might wish to see. love you xoxo

She felt absolutely miserable. The satin of her champagne colored dress was itchy against her skin and the halter felt like it was choking her and if the Russian Ambassador looked at her bare back like it was a lost wonder of the world one more time she was going to have her forearm against his windpipe in an instant. There was also the absolutely offensive paper weight of a diamond ring on her left hand. She thinks if she threw it hard enough, it could break through the wall of the Embassy’s reception room like a bullet.

“My, my, Miss Cooper. You are looking particularly diplomatic tonight.”

“Dimitri. I asked the bartender to throw away all the vodka so you wouldn’t bother me over here.” She fully knew he was SVR and she assumed he was tracking her State Department cover as loosely intact.

“Come now, my little eagle. I’ve spent all night waiting for you to come flirt with me like you always do. You’ve really kept me waiting.”

“If that’s flirting, things must be very bleak in Russia.” Originally, she had thought she’d try her hand at developing him. He had tried to develop her right back. She dropped her official pursuit of him but the back and forth kept her busy at the stuffy cocktail hours she had to attend. Cass would have preferred to be out in the local villages and talking to the people and the families and the culture she was falling in love with.

“Eh maybe our flirting isn’t great but that new American soldier is looking at you like he wants you in a way us Russian men are very familiar with.” She didn’t have to look to know it was John. His arrival a few days ago had rocked her to the very core and she had done everything in her power to avoid him since. “He the one who put that ring on your finger?”

“If you were half as good as you want me to believe, Dimitri, you’d know. Enjoy your night.” Cass finished off her drink and turned to leave when his hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist. “Let go of me.”

“Miss Cooper, I’m not-”

“She asked you politely. I won’t offer the same courtesy.” A lump lodged in her throat as she felt John’s presence behind her. Her arm was dropped in an instant and she crossed it against her chest.

“Good night, my little eagle.” Dimitir looked at her like he had gotten the exact answer he wanted. She itched to slap the victorious smirk off his face as he walked away.

“You okay? He hurt you?” John touched her wrist tenderly, lovingly, all the things she hadn’t felt against her skin since she fled North Carolina a few months ago.

“I was handling it. He did it on purpose to see how you’d react.” He dropped her arm as the glint of a diamond caught his eye. Took a step back to physically distance himself from the object.

“Sorry to disappoint.” He thought about tacking on an again but thought better of it. If she wasn’t in the mood to talk to him, maybe she never would be, then he wasn’t going to broach down the pathway.

“Not it’s…there’s no way you would have known.” She looked at him, for the first time since they said goodbye bathed in the moonlight on the beaches of Hatteras Island, and he felt his world shift back into place under her gaze. “Thank you.”

“Can I at least get you a refill?” It felt like dipping her toes back in those North Carolina waters. A place she had told herself was too dangerous to go back to. He looked too good in his blues to turn down.

“Yes.” His hand on the small of her back guided her closer to the bar and it felt so warm she could lose herself in it.

“Two of whatever the lady was having.”

“It’s just Coke in a rocks glass, Major.” She smiled as he took a long and satisfying sip either way.

“Still delicious,” he laughed. “You been out here awhile?” Her eyes found the corner of her cocktail napkin much more interesting all of a sudden.

“Since…since around the last time I saw you.” He nodded around the last of his soda. Wished it was full of rum.

“You could have just told me the truth. I would have understood.” Cass shook her head.

“No, you would have fought for me and told me we would find a way to make it work.” She distinctly remembered the look in his eyes on the beach that night. The frustration at her secrecy. The distress at her leaving when he had spent the whole summer learning how to love her. The anger that she acted like the truck bed nights and T6 flights and long weekends spent in bed could be tucked back into a box. He had wanted to scream that he was in love with her. Scream that he knew what was between them was meant to last a lifetime and he would fight for her until the ends of the earth. Scream that this war had already taken so much from so many and they shouldn’t let it take this from them.

“Would it have worked? Clearly, you had something else lined up anyways.” Instead, John had felt defeated. Had heard the words that she was leaving and couldn’t tell him where or why and it was better to leave this summer exactly where they were standing. “My sister sent me the photos of you and him at some Newport mansion.”

“It’s not real. You have to believe me.” Cass would have rather died than know John had seen the staged engagement photos. But the point of a PR campaign was for people to see the evidence.

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Cass.” He turned toward the calling of his name from his fellow pilots. They had been joined by a group of young women who all looked eager to head back to their housing units for the after party.

“Looks like you have a fun night ahead of you.” Pilots were always a hot commodity no matter where they went. And John was tall and handsome and pilot and goofy and…there was nothing wrong with him that she could come up with besides his love for her.

“Are you done for the night? I can walk you back.” She nodded, something about the gaggle of girls waiting for him making her chest ache. “I’ll get your coat.”

They walked in silence at a safe distance. Both of them were walking slower than usual. They didn’t want the fact that they were back in each other’s presence to end. Her housing complex came into view all too quickly. “Nice housing for an alleged entry level econ analyst.”

“Guess I’m just special,” she remarked. He looked at her with a smile while she glanced up at the moon. “He’s running for Congress. Landry. He offered to help my sister fix a problem if I agreed to pretend to be with him for the campaign.”

“Why’re you telling me?” He took a tentative step closer to her.

“Because you asked earlier if it would’ve worked. And it would have. I wanted to tell you the truth about Afghanistan and my job. But my sister made a mistake and there was a way for me to protect her from the consequences and I had to take it.” She fiddled with the buttons of his jacket as tears trickled down her cheeks. “It killed me to say those things to you. I didn’t mean any of it. Those few months we shared together were the best of my life and I wouldn’t trade those memories for anything and I’m sorry I got in the way of the things we dreamt about under the stars every night.”

“Give me your hand, Cass.” With a furrowed brow, she offered him her left hand and he locked his eyes onto hers. He slid the ring off her finger and her breath caught in her throat as he held it up between them. “I’ll make sure this is hand delivered to Mr. Landry.” The ring dropped into his pocket.

“Will you kiss me now, John Egan?”

“Only because you asked so nicely, Cassandra Cooper.” It felt like coming home when his lips touched hers. It felt like the first warm day after a dull winter. Like seeing your favorite movie again. Like the first bite of the food you’ve been craving.

He had thought about trying to track her down. Thought about paying off an intel officer or sweet talking the personnel lady on the fifth floor into looking her up but had always been struck by the look in her eyes when she had left him that night. Begging him to just let it be. Begging him to let her go. Begging him to spare her the pain of his words because the solemn emptiness of her soul was the only thing that would allow her to turn around and leave him behind.

She hadn’t been able to think about him. Not if she wanted to survive. Not when she needed to shut down and smile and pretend to fall in love with the weasel of man that had cunningly offered to help her sister. Cass hadn’t been able to say no. Her only regret was that she hadn’t been able to tell him herself.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, please forgive me.” But she would never be able to forgive herself for taking away all the time they could have had together.

“Already forgiven, Cass, I promise.” It was easy to forgive the people you loved. Less so to forget. Less so to heal from the wounds they inflicted on you. She had hurt him so deeply. Eroded all the trust he had in her. Eroded the trust he had for his own gut instinct. Kissing it better was one thing. Picking where they had left off was something else entirely.

“I want to try, John. I want to start over and I want to do this the right way. Even if it’s hard.”

“I’ll choose us every goddamn day, Cass.” She kept her hands on his cheeks as she dropped back down from her toes. “You look stunning tonight. I didn’t get the chance to tell you.” John began to lead her in a dance that could only be heard between the matching, racing beats of their hearts.

“Thank you but anything is going to look more stunning than the camis you saw me in all summer.” He kissed her with a laugh.

“You looked stunning in those too.” Lest she forget that was exactly how he had fallen in love with her in the first place. Low bun and camo pants and rolling her eyes every time a pilot tried to flirt with her. She had beaten a particularly persistent one in a pull up contest to prove her point. “Cass?”

“Yes?”

“Would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow?” She looked around at the mountains and desert. At the bland buildings and miscellaneous pods of gym equipment.

“I suppose.” Their original first date had been to a seafood shack where they broke down their own crabs and were covered in Old Bay and laughed as they walked along the pier and he had kissed her senseless while the sun set over the water. It was the most perfect memory. “Though I doubt you can top our first first date.” John smiled and traced the tip of his nose up and down the side of her cheek.

“I just want to be with you, Cass. Make you feel special. Remind us both that there is still good in this world worth fighting for.”

“I like the way that sounds,” she whispered as she pressed a kiss to his jaw. “You’ll find me when your day is over?”

You’ll always find me?

I’ll always find you. In this life, or any other.

When two souls are meant to tangle together across the universe there is no timeline that can halt them. There would be time apart and forces who tried to keep them that way but none would succeed. You cannot prevent the inevitable.

Two stars colliding into a supernova with no limit in sight. There was no before. There was no after. Only them.

“Yes, Cass. I’ll find you.”

#masters of the air #john egan #callum turner #mota #masters of the air fanfiction #john egan fanfiction #mota fanfiction #masters of the air fanfic #john egan fanfic #mota fanfic #john egan x oc #cass and bucky #john egan x reader

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s-sugustar · 7 months

Text

𝖣𝗋𝗂𝖿𝗍 𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗀 — i.

🎧﹒chapter synopsis ﹒✢﹐— how you and Eren became close, maybe too close.

🎧﹒pairings﹒✢﹐— Drift King! Ryomen Sukuna x black! fem! reader, piercer! Eren Yeager x reader

🎧﹒chapter warning﹒✢﹐— alcohol, cursing, panic attack

🎧﹒wc﹒✢﹐— 5.7k

🎧﹒author’s notes ﹒✢﹐— italics are memories, italics and bold are thoughts. Not proofread.

“You know it hasn’t been the same without you right?” Imani asked, walked through the dimly light car park, the sound of cars getting closer. You kept quiet, calmly picking at the hello kitty charm that was on your ring finger. You knew what she meant but you didn’t bother to respond. Imani sighed at your behavior, giving up on trying to push you on what had happened so that you could talk to her, but it seemed that all of her efforts were all in vain.

The sound of music and the bustling of people surrounding their cars, came into vision. Scanning the area for familiar faces, your eyes brightened in excitement when you saw Eren leaning up against the hood of his car, a blunt loosely in between his lips. Squealing in delight, you ran over to where he had been, tugging at his arm before pulling him into a hug.

The sudden collision caused him to groan in pain, but he quickly recomposed himself. "Well, well, well. If it isn't my favorite girl." Eren voiced, his lips coming down to kiss you on the crown of your head. You scrunched your nose at his comment before replying, turning your body to face the crowd while still resting against him.

"You mean your only girl since you always fumbling chicks." you snickered, a gasp falling from your lips as you felt a slight pinch on your arm. You swatted his arm before settling down by his side, his arm loosely around your waist.

You watched many cars fly by or drift as the night went on, songs being played and both you and Imani were having a blast. As the night progressed, you found yourself settled on the hood of Jean's car, hands folded as you watched all the other cars; you were patiently waiting for this so called 'D. K' to show; since it had been years that you left this place, leaving him as Number #1, but it seemed as if he was a no show tonight, what a waste of a pretty outfit.

“Oh my gosh. He’s here!” some random girl squealed. It was only then that your ears filled with the screeching of tires. You pushed yourself off of Eren, closing in on the large group that surrounded the car. ‘Maybe that’s D.K.’ you pondered, pushing past people as you made into the front and center. Slick all black Nissan gtr-35, pure power as many would say with bright red led lights lighting up the underbody.

The bubble gum pink really caught you off guard, and you knew that wild slick back hair from anywhere, then only then did the two black markings around the wrists confirmed your suspicions. As he stepped out the car clad in grey sweats, black compression t-shirt that squeezed his biceps with bright diamonds glittering in his ear and of course, his signature gold chain dangling from his neck. He hasn't changed one bit.

People screamed as he stepped out the car, giving him a great welcome before quietly settling down to enjoy the rest of the night until someone was bold enough to challenge Ryomen or well the Drift King; and maybe that one person to step up was you. Yet you had no car since you came by cab, so you needed to find someone who would be oh so gracious to lend you, their car.

Even after all this time, he's still Number #1.

With a sweetened smile on your face, you waltzed back over to where Eren had stood with Jean, Connie and Armin. Without interrupting their conversation, you wrapped your arms behind his neck, pushing yourself close up against him. A raised eyebrow was what you were met with, but you didn’t falter. “I need to borrow your car.” You said, not bothering to ask, slightly knowing his answer so you made a statement instead; you had to have it one way or another.

“I beg your pardon; you want to what?” Eren looked at you like of you had lost your mind or grown two extra heads when you explained why you needed his car; maybe both. “Rennn, c’monn. Just for tonight, please?” you whined, batting your eyes at him in hopes of making him falter. He squinted his eyes at you, already knowing what card you had up your sleeve.

“Y/n, we don’t call him D.K for nothing.” Eren tried to reason with you but deep down he knew nothing would change your mind.

A deep sigh fell from his lips before going into his pocket, pulling out the keys and handing them to you but before he did, “One piece y/n.” he warned, rolling his eyes at your excitement when you snatched the keys from him. Eren ran a hand over his face when he could hear Connie and the others murmuring over his choice.

Sukuna was surrounded, two chicks on both sides and some guys he seemed close enough with but that didn’t deter you. With your head held high and your glossy lips glittering in the night, you walked over to where he stood. Others had seen when you walked across the pavement, some looked at you oddly while others murmured some things you didn’t bother to think about.

With a manicured hand on your hip, you looked towards him, a dead serious look within your eyes, “I wanna race you.” you said confidently a smile bright on your face. You saw his eyes widened before pulling off the two girls, taking two strides and there he was, head tilted in a mocking way with a grin that you had been oh so familiar with. Next thing he did shocked you. He laughed, that idiot laughed! People started to gather around, seeing that some sort of commotion stirred.

“Who the hell bought daddy’s little princess here huh?” he snickered, sizing you up and down but you stood your ground. Your lips twitched at his arrogance; a witty comeback fresh on your tongue but you held. “Shit, sorry D.K, she’s in over her head. Had too much to drink.” Eren interrupted, finding himself within the middle of the circle that had formed, Eren pulled at your arm, but you didn’t move.

“Oh, the little princess here ain’t moving Yeager. I think she wants a race.” Sukuna taunted, daring red eyes never leaving your figure. You closed the distance between the two of you, noses touching. You could hear when his breathing quickens when you closed proximity. “The hell I do DK. The hell I do.” He steps closer to you, head tilting downwards, in hopes of intimidating you.

"And what's your name huh?" he asked, eyes never leaving yours. He knows your name oh so well, but for the sake of everything, he played dumb. "It's Y/n." The taller man nodded, taking a few steps back before turning to face the crowd. "Alright everyone, seems like you all will be getting a race with me in it tonight after all. Y/n vs Me." He tilted his head till you filled his vision.

"Let's see what you got on the track, Y/n."

Cloud 9 as they say. Speeding down the road, swerving cars from left to right, the blaring colors in your eyes. It felt good years ago and it still does. You were ahead of Sukuna by 10 seconds, trying to gain some distance between the two of you but he was closing in. You were so close to the third way mark, you just needed to be ahead for a few more seconds and you’ll be good. Your hand itched to reach for the nitrogen switch, but it wasn’t time as yet.

C’mon, just a bit more.

Once you passed the flickering streetlights, you flipped the switch and let the nitrogen work its magic. Excitement flowed through your veins, a squeal fell from your lips as you felt the surge flow through the car, the finish was clear. It was right there, you just needed to get there, get closer but all of sudden, the world started to fade, and it was fading fast. The nitrogen pushed you close to the finish, you could hear people yelling for you, but it all came flooding right back in.

The two teenagers enjoying the time of their lives and within a few split seconds all of it turned for the worst. The car toppled and burst into flames, one teen got out and tried to save the other which they did but the other was unconscious.

“Y/n, come on. Wake up, please.” the other whispered, tears flowing from their eyes. The smog decorating both of their faces, flicks of fire biting away at them both. Sirens heard in a distance, but the boy still tried, thank God his mother sent him to First Aid. “C’mon Y/n. Please.”

Y/n

When reality finally hit, you were across the finish and people were chanting your name. You wanted to move but you were stuck, you couldn’t. With every passing moment, it felt harder to breathe. The noise, it was getting to you, and you couldn’t stay here anymore, too much. You could see Eren coming close, jade green eyes piercing yours. A head tilt to the side and a flash of worry filled his face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” you whispered, tears filling your eyes as you placed the car into reverse, going back out the same way you came.

All the while this happened, bright red eyes had seen this take place, and he knew just the place to find you.

“I knew I would find you here.” A deep gruff voice sounded from behind you. You hugged the black jacket that hung loosely around your shoulders, the one that Eren had given you earlier for good luck. The wind blew in your face, chilly but maybe that was your body temperature as Sukuna neared the car, resting on the hood of the car, just like you had been. “You shouldn’t be here Sukuna.” you warned, trying your best to keep the distance between the two of you.

His breathing was shallow, uneven at best. He didn’t know what to say, or how to say it. The last time he saw you, you had been transported to the hospital; even then, he tried to get into your room, but your parents stopped him. God, he wishes he could take back that day when it all happened. Unfortunately, life goes on.

“H-how have you been?” he asked, trying to ease into the conversation, knowing fully he was treading on eggshells. You glanced over at him before answering his question, it shouldn’t have hurt this much since it happened 5 years ago, but it did. “Busy.” you were short and to the point, not in any interest of starting small conversation.

“Why did you come after me?” you asked, turning your body fully towards him, arms crossed as you looked towards his face, searching for any flicker or movements. “I wanted to see if you were okay. Saw the whole panic attack thing and figured you’d be out here.” Nodding in understanding, you turned to face the city once more, a smile decorating your lips, but you turned so he wouldn’t see.

The silence between the two of you was deafening, tense body movements and so much to say but neither of you could formulate the words that coursed through your mind. “It’s been a while since we’ve been here.” Sukuna eased, trying to lighten the tension but his words fell on deaf ears. You sighed heavily, the pressure on your chest wasn't getting any lighter.

All those feelings you kept hidden for years, ready to burst forth and you weren't prepared for it at all; no one is actually. "I missed you y'know." he added, hoping to hear something from you, even if you yelled at him, he just needed to hear your voice.

You scoffed in disbelief. "Yea? You missed me? What about texting or calling maybe, what about that huh?" you sneered, nose flaring as he spewed these lies to you. You rolled your eyes when you turned to look at him, only to see his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Since he had nothing to say, you continued. "You got some balls Sukuna; I'll give you that. Last time I checked, you left me behind for some stupid title surrounding cars. You got caught up in the game, in the race and you left me behind, everything we promised each other, YOU left behind. And yet when I stayed, I was invisible to you but the moment I leave, the moment I'm no longer hanging onto to something that was slowly drifting away, you want to care?" that wasn't all you had to say but it is what you wanted to say in that particular moment. As bad as it was, you still cared about him and how he felt so you carefully formulated your words to barely scratch his mental.

“At any point in time within our friendship, did you care? Or was it all for show?” When you had finished, you waited for an answer, waited for an apology, for something and yet again your expectations weren't met.

His eyes drifted from your face to something behind you and his lips kept in a thin line and as it seemed, that was all the confirmation you needed. With tears blurring your vision, you scoffed and turned back to the car; anger fueling your energy as of now as you slammed the door of the car. Quickly throwing the car in reverse, you left the area, leaving Sukuna to his thoughts.

As you made your way back to the meet, you parked a little way from where everyone else had been; pulling down the mirror, you quickly dabbed away the ears that had filled in your eyes and quickly reapplied a layer of lip gloss before getting out of the car and heading back to where you had seen Eren from before. For the reminder of the night, you hadn't seen Sukuna shown up which gave you some sort of relief.

" So that's why you didn't want to y'know. . . date me." Eren revealed, realization all over his face. When you had first come back, this wasn't the place you had left years ago. Everything changed drastically and to say you had been clueless would be an understatement. The first person you had met had been Eren. You had bumped into him at the grocery store, looking down at the list you had written on your phone instead of watching where you had been going.

—

"Parsley, now this ain't the same aisle it used to be in so where the he- OH SHIT." You bumped into a strong chest, pushing you back a few inches, nearly toppling you over but with quick reflexes, an arm stretched out to you, pulling you close to steady your balance. This person definitely goes to the gym, strong scent of pinecones, mint and weed filled your nostrils as you breathed in.

Once you had taken a step back, you took a full look at the man in front of you. Bright jade green eyes that pierced deeply into your soul. Hair that was long enough to be placed in a loose bun and still short that some strands fell loosely into his face. You had been ogling that was a fact, but the other guy hadn't been much different to you in any aspect. "M'sorry, wasn't watching where I was going." You blurted, breaking the inadmissible silence that fell between the two of you.

He seemed to shake out of whatever daze he had been in when you opened your mouth to speak. "You iight mama, wouldn't mind bumping into you from time to time." he replied, voice strong but a silky undertone hung from it. You chuckled at the pet name he gave you before excusing yourself to finish grocery shopping.

How ironic it had been when what he had said became reality. Almost a week and a half after, you bumped into him again but this time it had been at a club in the city. Lights were flashing and the alcohol had started to get to you making you a little a little less self-reserved or well a lot. You were on your way to the bathroom when a large back was the first thing you met, causing you to stumble. Lucky enough, the bar table had been close for you to hold onto to steady yourself.

When the person turned, both of your eyes widen but you had been the first to speak.

"I know you. You are that fine ass man, I met in the supermarket the other day." you slurred, hiccupping between few words and slurring the rest. The said man Infront of you had raised an eyebrow at your bold description of him before smiling. "Whatcu doing in here mama, having some fun?" he asked, you nodded eagerly, your cheeks slightly burning from the pet name he used once again.

He took one good look at your state before sighing; with how you were stumbling, you probably wouldn't make it home in one piece. With an arm wrapped around your waist, he was almost about to guide you out of the club, but you whined saying you needed to use the bathroom.

With an untrustworthy look in his eyes, the unnamed man led you to the bathroom, stopping on the outside to guard you from any idiot who wanted to try something stupid. When he says that you had finished, he took you by the waist once again and headed out of the club, not before telling his friends he was calling it a night.

With one free hand, the unknown man had reached his car and unlocked it, placing you into the passenger seat with you seat being buckled in before rushing over to his seat. The last thing you remembered was him getting into the car before blacking out.

The next morning you woke up with a searing headache and even more stiff legs. Once the sleep had gone from your eyes, you took in your surroundings and realized where you were and as far as you can remember, this wasn’t your room.

When you pulled the sheets away from your body, you saw that you had on a large grey graphic tee; you sighed in relief when you felt your panty still on you but that didn’t stop your mind from racing, it just eased the swirling assumptions. As you ended up downstairs, the scent of eggs and fried bacon filled your nose, enticing you to enter the kitchen or well close to the kitchen.

What stopped you had been the low bun was again or maybe it had been the large back tattoo that you could see peeking out from the white vest this man had on and the bulging of his muscles from when he flipped the eggs. You stopped staring before your mind started to swirl with ideas; quietly yet still loud, you cleared your throat, making your presence known. "Oh, you're awake. That's good. Here I made breakfast." His deep baritone voice filled the room as he placed two plates on the island, signaling you to take one.

Slowly enough, you take the plate before sitting quietly in one of the chairs that surrounded the table. Out of caution, you slowly ate the blueberry pancakes before moving unto the strips of bacon that had been placed to the side alongside some sunny side up eggs.

The clicking of the fork caught your attention, looking up to see that the brown-haired man had stopped eating; sitting up, you looked at him awaiting some sort of response coming from him about what exactly happened last night. Although you had some sort of reembrace about what went on, everything had been blurry after you bumped into him. "We didn't have sex. I just brought you here because I didn't think you'd be able to tell me where you lived in that state of mind. Also, about the clothes, my sister, Mikasa, undressed you and wiped you off with some wipes. I had asked her to do that since I figured you wanted some sort of privacy even though you had been unconscious."

What he said surely cleared up some things for you, but you wondered what his sister looked like and also, where the hell your clothes were. And as if the earth heard your thought came a girl with a short bob and bangs sitting right above her eyes with a pair of square shaped glasses sitting on her nose. A large grey t-shirt hung loosely from her frame with printed black shorts with Kuromi on them. You glanced over her frame before realizing she had your clothing folded neatly in her hands.

"Thank you, both of you. I should probably give you back your clothing and head back home." You nodded your head to the door, but the brown-haired man stopped you. "Nah it's fine, I'm about to head out. I could take you home if you want." He offered, not bothered by the fact that you had a few pieces of his clothing or the fact that he had to take care of you. nevertheless, you gave the okay before turning back to the raven-haired girl whose name you learned from herself and her brother, Mikasa gave you a quick smile and a nod.

On the way to your house, you recognized the street you had been on. You pointed to the house which caused him to chuckle. "You know what I find funny, the fact that you only live 3 minutes away or less from me." You agreed while giggling as he pulled into the driveway. 'Thank you by the way." You stated, unbuckling the seat belt; you gathered your things before exiting the car only to be stopped by the voice of the same man that had dropped your home. "Wait, my name I forgot to tell you, my name." he rushed, quickly getting out of the car.

You raised an eyebrow at the man, shaking your head at his awkwardness. "Eren, my name's Eren." Jutting his hand out, you took his hand in yours before shaking it and replying with your name. "Well, Eren, thank you for taking care of me and bring me home and tell your sister I say thanks. " You commented, a smile adorning your face as you let go of his warm hand.

You second interaction had been when you were at work in the library and the sudden need for a belly piercing had hit you like a semi. The urge was strong and scrolling through Pinterest wasn't making your urges any better. Now, you hadn't been around for a while so saying you knew where a piercing shop had been, you would have been lying.

With the old desktop in front of you, you typed in 'piercing shops near me' on the old desktop, listening to the sound of the keys clacking against the inside piece of the keyboard.

To your surprise, there had been one extremely close to where you worked. With quick thinking, you choose the one that had been relatively close to your work and decided that you would do a walk in on your lunch break which was in the next couple of minutes. You walked over to the owner of the library.

A small old lady in her late 60's, curly silver white hair on top of her forehead with square shaped glasses that covered most of her cheeks, a beautiful old soul in your opinion.

"Het Voila, I'm going out on lunch alright, I'll be back within an hour tops." You grabbed your small handbag from behind the counter before heading out, waving at Voila before leaving.

The walk to the piercing parlor wasn't long, within 6 minutes you had been in front of the place. Taking in the scenery, you looked over the shop before walking in; a bell ringing to signal your presence. The shop was welcoming, an undertone of pinecone and sandalwood with a hint of lavender essence. The colors and furniture of the shop, a mixture of soft purple, white and black; sleek and modern with a hint of color to give off a flowery feeling.

The air condition blew in straight onto your back, goosebumps forming from the thin cotton button up you had on. Drake's song 'Marvin's Room' played softly in the background. Your thoughts were interrupted when a mellow voice called out to you, gaining your attention.

"Hey, welcome to Phoenixx's piercing parlor, how can I help?" a blond buzz cut with pink stars caught your eyes, then maybe the chocolate-colored eyes that stared back at you. His attire was neat. A black hoodie with a white shirt poking from underneath, an army green cargo pants and a gold cross hanging from his neck.

You couldn't see the shoes he had been wearing but you guessed that they had to be the Panda Nike Dunks that came out late last year or so. A sparkly nose ring popped in the lighting in the shop but those were some minor details. As you closed the distance between the two of you, you stated your reason of popping in and so sparked a conversation between the two of you.

"Hey, maybe you should come this Friday night, there's this place where all the modified cars downtown and uptown meet up to race of just hang out. It seems like your style from what I've heard for the past half an hour." The blond hair with a buzz cut, whose name you learned to be was Connie had made quite a suggestion, you couldn't back down from.

Giving his idea some thought, you finally agreed before Connie grab a piece of paper and scribbled an address on it, handing you a business card alongside the paper. As your conversation continues, another voice sounded from the back, which you figured had been where you get your piercings. "Yo Connie, what's the hold up?"

Shifting your attention, you met eyes with a certain pair of jade green eyes, ones you had seen quite recently. "Y/n, what are you doing here?" he asked, eyes wide as he grazed over your attire. "Oh, been feeling the sudden urge to get a piercing recently so I searched up places online and well, this was the closest one. " You explained, Eren nodded as he took in your appearance.

"You work around here?" he asked, seeing a familiar logo on the shirt you were wearing. "Yup fortunately, it's close to where I live." you answered. You thanked him before l him a question when you checked your phone; a string of curses leaving your mouth as you saw the time. "I gotta get back and thanks Connie. See you around Eren." you spoke before heading back out to work.

Eren and Connie watched as you left before Connie turned to Eren with an eyebrow raised and smirk decorating his lips. "You know her?" Eren rolled his eyes before telling him the story of the two of you met.

—

"Damn I'm coming." you groaned to no one in particular, the rapid knocking at your door that woke you from sleeping; pulling a shirt over your head before heading to the front door. "Now who the he- Eren?"" you paused, taking in the person before you. Eren looked to you with a hopeful smile that seemed a bit rushed. "Hey Y/n, I need your help." He rushed out, seemingly out of breath.

You looked at him in curiosity, an eyebrow raised waiting for him to continue. Stepping aside, you let him enter your house, taking him to the kitchen. "You want something to drink?"

He shook his head before continuing his story. " So my niece's birthday is today and it's princess themed since she loves princesses and the lady who was supposed to be the princess for the party copped out at the last minute saying she was sick so she couldn't make it and we don't have any other option right now and I thought of you since you're really pretty and just like a princess so I came over to ask you if you can do it. If you can't do it that's okay but you are literally the first and last person to think of." Eren rambled on, you heard all that he said and contemplated it, already having your answer but you decided to tease him.

"You think I'm pretty?" you smirked, chuckling as Eren stumbled over his words trying to make up for it. You saw that he was struggling and decided to chime in. "Yes, I'll help you."

Now when you got to the house, you grabbed the bag that had in your makeup and a couple accessories to seal the deal that you were a princess. "Oh Eren, thank God you're here-oh. Who's this?" The lady that stood in front of you took in your appearance with a smile. "This is a friend of mine, Y/n. She's pitching in to be the princess." Once Eren stated the reason you were there, the lady's eyes brightened quickly ushering you in.

When inside the house, you took in the scenery; carefully watching the other family members put up the decorations within the living room.

'This little girl really loves princesses.' You thought as you scanned the environment briefly before you were pulled by the waist to some random room by the aunt you met at the front door, whose name turned out to be Paula.

"I'm not sure if the dress will fit but can you at least try it to see, please?" she asked politely, silently wishing that the dress fits. Shooing you to the bathroom, you quickly took off your clothing before stepping into the dress, pulling up over your body before struggling a bit to zip up the back.

'Huh, it really does fit.' you thought. Once it was completely on and the ruffles on the dress fluffed, you exited the bathroom. Stiffly, you walked over to the middle of the bedroom where Paula gasped in amazement. Squealing in delight, she called, she rushed over to you with her arms opening wide; pulling you into a tight hug, spewing "thank you's" fell from her lips. She squealed once again before rushing out of the bedroom, leaving you in shock from her outburst.

"You really are a princess." Eren commented, his jade green eyes taking in your appearance with a smirk on his face. You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard Eren; chuckling at his statement before retorting a silly answer. " And who are you supposed to be, my knight in shining armor?" you quipped, gaining a laugh from him.

"Not dressed for the occasion though, am I?" he asked, looking down at his clothing then back up at you. Rolling your eyes playfully, you headed back into the bathroom, to which Eren followed.

Within the two hours that you had been there doing your makeup and fixing your goddess braids, Eren sat and watched every minute, staring at you in awe has you put yourself together for someone you didn't even know. Once you had finished, you put away everything before turning to Eren. "So, how do I look?" you asked, giving him a little twirl, waiting for his opinion.

"Like I said earlier, just like a princess." he complimented. You gave him a smile in which he returned before his phone pinged. With one look, Eren looked to you before grabbing your hand. "Come on, the birthday girl is here."

"You like my tiara, would you like to wear it?" you asked the small girl in front of you; as she nodded eagerly, you carefully took the tiara from off of your head before placing it onto hers. Not a perfect fit since it fell to the side of her head. The two of you giggled at the interaction before turning her to face the camera that was pointed at you. "Smile, a pretty princess is on camera." you voiced, a smile settling on your lips as the flash went off. After she skipped off to somewhere, you sat back in the chair you had been for the past 4 hours and huffed.

Your butt was hurting for being in the same position for 4 hours; resting your jaw into your palm, you watched at the children ran around the house.

"If it isn't the princess of the evening. Where is your Prince Charming might I ask?" Eren asserted, the chair that sat empty next to you for all the little girls who wanted to talk to the lovely princess for the night, now filled with the so-called 'Prince Charming" those little girls were giggling about just before. "To those little girls across there, they believe that you are Prince Charming." you nodded your head over to where the children had been playing. The older boy winced, shaking his head ever so slightly before continuing.

"Cute, but I'm not into children. Although, I do have one person in mind that I could possibly be Prince Charming to, if she let me." He hinted, straightening his posture before turning in the chair to face you.

You decided to play along, a smile graced your lips as you also turned to face him, "And if this special person lets you be their Prince Charming, then what?" you purred, slowly closely the distance between the two of you. It seems that Eren read your mind in that moment and with bated breath, the two of you closed in on each other, lips touching in the sweetest way possible.

His lips weren't completely dry, they had moisture, maybe from the drink he held in his hand from before but that didn't matter much. "LOOK, PRINCESS Y/N FOUND HER PRINCE! AND THEY'RE KISSING! " Some random child screeched, not only causing the two of you to laugh within the kiss but a series of "ew's" and "cooties" fell from their lips.

Later that night, after the birthday girl was down and the others had left, you had changed out of the dress before you helped with cleaning up. You and Eren had cleaning duty in the backyard and the tension between the two of you was sickening. Glances back and forth and neither of you said a word; to Eren, it was torture and to you, you had been conflicted.

The little time you spent with him had been cherished and you did feel something for Eren, but you still felt something for Sukuna and that was hard to deny.

On the way home, you fiddled with your acrylics as Eren drove you home; you decided not to say anything. You were so close to reaching inside your house until Eren called out to you, rushing up and grabbing your wrists before pulling you towards him. "Y/n, you're not going to walk away like you didn't feel something, are you?" he asked, a hint of desperation hidden in his voice.

You contemplated pulling away, but you had too much of a conscience. "Eren, I can-" you weren't able to get another word in before his lips met yours.

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mara-and-its-the-same · 2 years

Text

JJ's got a little family and they're just having a day on the town. CWs:Mean old ladies, protective dad jj, mom reader, preschooler daughter, taking a pregnancy test, implied smut, I think he calls her momma once or twice, no grammar, I avoided y/n but I don't know if I did it well; let me know if I missed anything Wc:3.9k

Well this was an incredibly self indulgent fic because the scenario was brewing in my lil noggin for at least two months and then I was like well it's doing no good in there and the only reason I even watched obx was for this man, and this man alone. And so here you go. I haven't read this since I wrote it I just wanted to post something before I start posting my long fic.

"Babe, are you even listening?" JJ finally caught his wife's attention from the ring on her left hand.

"Yes, but look." She held her hand up to let the diamond catch the light, sending rainbows flying across the ceiling of the car as she shifted it back and forth. "It's so shiny."

"I know, love." He took her hand and kissed her fingers. "That's why I picked it, but enough of that we have things to do! A list to check off! You ready Tiny?" He called to the back seat.

"Mhm, all ready," his 4 year old daughter, Iris, giggled from the back seat.

"Let's go then. I'll get her, you get a cart, ok?"

"Sounds good to me," JJ answered, then left on his assigned mission with a salute.

Iris laughed with her mom, "Daddy's so silly."

"Yes he is baby, you have no idea." She finally got all the clips undone just as JJ was bringing the cart over, so all she had to do was lift her up and into the cart.

"Weeeee," Iris cheered as she landed in the seat. "Again, again."

"We can do it again when we get back, we gotta get the stuff first, silly." JJ made a face at her while the three of them walked into the store.

He went through all the pockets in his shorts until he found the list. "Divide and conquer?" he suggested

"Absolutely not, I'm not leaving you two alone together and I'm definitely not letting you off on your own. Let's go." She led them down the produce aisle and took the list from JJ. "You got a pen?"

JJ handed her one and she crossed the first item off the list putting a bag of grapes in the cart. Iris made grabby hands towards it and she gave in, setting the bag in her lap.

***

Halfway down the list and a third of the way through the store JJ and Iris started tossing grapes in each other's mouths.

"You want one, baby?" He asked, offering her a grape while she scanned the shelves for the right brand of flour.

"No, I'm ok." She looked around like she was trying to remember something. "Ummm, I'm gonna go grab something. I forgot it when we were over there 'cause it's not on the list. I'll be right back. Don't eat them all!" She pecked JJ on the cheek before disappearing down the aisle.

Iris crossed her arms on the handle bar and laid her forehead on it, "I'm booored."

"Me too but we gotta stay here till your mama gets back, ok kid?" He copied her posture and tilted his head so he could look at her better. She had his hair and eyes but besides that she looked exactly like her mother.

"Fine," she groaned and he offered his fist out for her.

"Ready?" he asked and she nodded.

"Rock, paper, scissors," they both said at the same time. JJ put up scissors and she put up rocks. "Awww you got me, again?"

"Yeah." They played for a few more rounds until JJ saw his wife coming back down the aisle with her hands behind her back. She was walking quickly with her hair swishing behind her. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at what she could be rushing from. He worried something had happened in the 5 minutes she was away.

She threw the small boxes in the cart behind the other bags and nodded her head behind her at an old lady giving them dirty looks. "Don't say anything, just keep walking ok?" she whispered to him while trying to act natural. She wasn't quiet enough because Iris still heard and asked what was wrong. "Nothing baby, don't worry about it." She stroked her daughter's golden hair back from her face and kissed her forehead, taking control of the cart. JJ put a comforting hand on her back as they passed the old lady still giving them the stink eye.

She said something under her breath. "Excuse me?" JJ said defensively.

"I just think irresponsible children like you can't make responsible parents."

"And what makes you say that?" He put his hands on his hips and stared the old woman down.

"JJ please." She rubbed her thumb over Iris's hand.

"No, I'd like to know, what makes you think my wife and I are irresponsible parents?"

She squared up to him, "You're far too young, too young to be married. You don't know what real life is yet how can you raise a child?"

"And you know all this after what? Following my wife for however many aisles?!" Iris took the phone with her favorite game offered to her, her mother knowing JJ wouldn't let up once he started.

"From the way she looked at the ! I knew she was unfit just after one look!" JJ looked back at his wife with a look of surprised confusion. She only replied with a shrug and nodded from Iris to the end of the aisle. He nodded yes back and she took the cart back up the aisle, not wanting to involve her daughter in this argument. She stopped a quarter of the way up when the man that was with the old woman before walked down to where she and JJ were arguing. "Just look at that outfit what kind of mother would walk around like that?!" The 'unfit' mother in question looked at her outfit, cutoff shorts of a reasonable length and one of JJ's faded old shirts cut into a crop top, and cocked an eyebrow. Not her most fashionable look but she just thought she was going to the grocery store with her family, not being ambushed by an impromptu episode of What Not to Wear. "Then I come here and find her already with a child. And you? So disrespectful!"

The man walked past their cart and nodded to Iris and her mother, before stopping in front of the woman and JJ. He was taller than JJ and much bigger. Despite his overbearing stature he put a hand on the woman's arm and sternly said, "Let's go, leave this nice family alone."

"No! I was just doing my shopping when I saw this- this hussy walk past." JJ's nostrils flared once and he dug his nails into his palms. The other man put a hand on her shoulder and stopped her right there.

"What is wrong with you? What have these people ever done to you to speak to her that way?"

She sputtered for an answer and JJ just shook his head and said, "It doesn't matter. Never speak to any one like that again, especially my wife." He turned back to his family and he took his wife's hand. "Let's go momma."

She blushed hard, "What did I say about calling me that when we're out?" she said with a glare.

"Nothing? I always call you that when Tiny's around." He shrugged, not knowing what she was referring to.

"Not that, you know how I feel when you call me your wife."

He finally understood her message. "Oh, but you are my wife, I just want everyone to know it." He kissed her jaw before turning to the freezers filled with ice cream. He noticed she went right for the ice cream she ate nonstop just under five years ago. "Hm, haven't had that one in a while." She shrugged with a nod. "You needa tell me something?"

She looked at him and he half expected her to look like a deer in headlights but she just calmly smiled. "When we get home."

"She's getting tired, why don't you take her to the car and I'll finish here?" She handed the empty bag of grapes to the cashier and quickly explained they ate them all but she's not going to leave without paying. There was still a bit in the cart, including the second bag of grapes.

"Are you sure? We can stay and help."

"Jay, she's falling asleep. I'll be fine, you go ahead."

"I don't know, that cart looks pretty heavy." He put his hands in his pockets and rocked up on his feet. Her only answer was to raise her eyebrows.

"You're a mess," She kissed Iris's head, "You're gonna go to the car with daddy, baby ok?"

Iris nodded a little and when JJ picked her up she whispered the tiredest little "weeee" she could muster.

She and the cashier both smiled at the little girl half way asleep in her father's arms.

He put her down in her car seat then went to the trunk to look for a blanket when he heard a painfully nasal voice behind him. He tried his best to ignore it and give Iris her blanket even though a part of him was just itching to ask her who she thinks she is that she can speak to his wife that way. He brushed Iris's hair out of her face and made sure her blanket was tucked in. He shut the door and walked just ahead of the car to see if his wife made it out of the store yet.

2 seconds later she stepped out with the cart full of brown paper bags. He watched her look both ways, and the way her hair moved with her long strides and the soft breeze. He was too focused on her to notice the old woman make her way over and intercept the cart on his way over to her.

"My son finally left so I can say whatever I want now! You aren't fit to be a mother at your age! Look at what you're feeding your poor daughter! You children don't understand how to properly raise children. Letting her pick out everything she wants, shoving the phone in her face as soon as it gets too hard. I bet you're some of those "gentle parents" too, aren't you?" The young woman just looked bored out of her mind, which looking back probably only encouraged the old woman.

JJ was worried he'd have to intervene but he didn't want to leave their daughter alone in the car, so he stood at the car but out far enough so he could watch. He knew how she gets with confrontation like this, especially with getting yelled at and strangers. But she held her own.

"Is that all, I'd really like to just get home with my family if you don't mind." She kept eye contact and spoke calmly. "I honestly don't know what you think gives you the right to yell at me and my husband, especially right in front of our daughter, when you've only see us do what? Make her a respectful, happy kid? Buy some lube? Swear? Fuckin' Christ lady leave me and my family alone." The old woman was obviously shell shocked so she just pushed the cart right past and started loading the trunk with JJ's help.

He noticed her shaky hands and unsteady breathing. "Hey, hey, hey, I got this, ok? You go wait with her inside ok?" He quickly wiped underneath her eyes and she nodded her head.

Once he finished and got into the drivers seat, she'd had a chance to calm down. "I'm so proud of you," when she finally looked at him he swiped the sparkles lining her water line away. "I love you, so much. Tiny loves you way more than I can even describe. You did so good baby, so good." He stroked the side of her head as he spoke and kissed her head, "You ready to go?"

She swallowed the shrinking lump in her throat, "Yeah," she breathed out with a nod.

***

They laughed the whole ride home but were careful not to wake Iris. JJ did whatever he could to brighten the mood and he wasn't sure if she was laughing at his dumb jokes to stroke his ego or fake-it-till-you-make-it, or she actually thought he was funny. Any way, it worked for him.

"Should I wake her up?" JJ asked.

"No, I'll just bring her in."

"No you will not!"

"What? Why?" She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Because, I have a sneaking suspicion at what your little..." he wiggled his finger in the air. "surprise is, and so, I will be taking care of everything you will let me take care of." He said with a pointed finger wagging at her.

"You're ridiculous," she laughed while getting the smallest two bags and walking up to unlock the door so JJ could bring Iris in.

"But I'm right!"

"Shhhhhh," she giggled while setting the bags on the counter. "Maybe, maybe not. We shall see, very soon."

"How soon?"

"How soon can you take care of all the groceries?"

"So fuckin' soon." He kissed the side of her head before speed walking Iris into her room and tucking her in. He made sure all the curtains were all the way shut before he ran down the hall and out to the car, taking as many bags as he could carry at a time. She thought he was like the Flash with how fast he put everything away. When he put the last bottle in the door of the refrigerator and rushed to stand right in front of her.

"Is it soon yet?" He was excited as a little puppy and she nodded while her lips were still on her water bottle. He pulled it away and put it on the counter.

"What the fuck Jay?!" She stared at him wide eyed and he just looked right at her before walking down the hall.

"Chop chop!"

"You're the worst," she mumbled under her breath while grabbing the three rectangular boxes off the counter.

***

She set the timer on her phone and they both sat with their backs against the bathtub. She lazily slung her head to face him, he did the same.

"I'm not even sure, I just think maybe."

He grabbed her hand and rested them on the small, soft rug. "Whatever it says, I'll be happy. It doesn't have to happen right now, there's loooads of time. No matter what it says, I won't be dissapointed, ok?" He kissed the back of her hand still connected to his and she nodded.

They sat like that for a few more minutes until the timer went off. "Ready?" he asked when he set her phone back down.

"Mhm, I'll flip one, you flip the other and we both flip the last?"

"Mhm." They counted down together "3,2,1" clack.

Two lines.

Pregnant.

They both stared at each other for a few moments before he lifted her in a tight hug. She kicked her feet behind herself before wrapping her legs around his waist. They stayed like that for a few more minutes, just being near each other, feeling each other, breathing each other in.

"I want ice cream," she said through a wet whisper into his neck.

"Allow me, m'darlin'." He carried her into the kitchen while she giggled the whole way. He sat her on the counter top while he got the ice cream out for her.

"You're not gonna let me do anythin, are you?"

"No, I will not. For the next 9-odd months you won't have to lift a finger."

"But what if I want to?"

"As long as it's less than Tiny."

Her face dropped as she stuck the spoon back in the ice cream. "I can't hold my baby?" She pouted.

"She's gonna have to be promoted from baby." He laughed.

"But she's my baby."

"You'll have a new baby."

"Why can't they both be my babies?" She laid down on the counter, holding the ice cream on her stomach, savoring the final few weeks of not having a mound in the way.

"Hmm, I don't see why not."

"Yayyy." She smiled around the spoon.

"When can we tell her?" He sat with his chin laying on his arms next to her head.

"I think after the first scan and all that, so she can have a picture."

"Yay," he cheered and held his tongue out so she would give him some ice cream.

He gagged and ran to the sink to spit it out the second the spoon touched his tongue. She just shrugged and licked it off herself.

"I forgot how disgusting that is. How can you eat that?"

"I can't, unless I'm pregnant." She sat up on her elbows and set the ice cream down next to her. "You remember I tried it after Tiny was born and we had some left over and I almost threw up. Fuckin' revolting. I don't even know."

***

2 weeks later

"Hey Tiny! Where you at?" JJ yelled through the Chateau.

"Daddy!" Iris yelled back, running into the kitchen to meet her parents. Sarah and John B watched her but they spent most of the time outside since most of the interior was being renovated before the wedding.

Sarah walked inside and made her way over to the other young woman, "Sooo? How was it? Any fun and exciting news?"

"It went very very well, but unfortunately I am sworn to secrecy at the moment. At the request of JJ, he wants to wait until we're all together to avoid any favoritism."

""Cause you don't want it to go like last time?"

"Exactly, what a disaster that was." She slapped a hand over her mouth at what she just admitted and pushed Sarah into the other room. She shut the door and held Sarah by her shoulders. "You cannot tell anyone. JJ will have a fit," she whisper yelled.

"You have my word," Sarah crossed her heart and they pinky promised. "If I can have yours that I get exclusive godmother rights."

"I can't promise anything yet but I will see what I can do."

"How's the forecast look though?"

"I will say, pretty good, but you didn't hear it from me. And you cannot tell John B. JJ has to or we'll have to keep having more until he finally gets the chance. And I personally would like to keep it at a solid 2 because I don't think I could handle being outnumbered by more mini JJs."

***

When they finally got home they sat Iris down at the kitchen table and they sat across from her.

"We have some news for you, Tiny," JJ started.

"A surprise?" She stood on her chair.

"Yes baby, a surprise. But you have to sit down to get it." Her mom said, soft at first but the second in her sweet mom voice. Gentle but laced with authority, like hidden vegetables.

JJ pulled out the row of ultrasound pictures and slid them across the table to her.

"What is it?"

"What do you think it is?" She asked while JJ just watched his daughter try to piece everything together.

"A bean...in a dark room. A bean x-ray?"

"That's actually pretty close, but it's not quite an x-ray. It's an ultrasound, and that's what the doctor used to look in my belly."

"Why?"

"To look at that."

"What's that then?" She pointed to the little blob in the center.

They both looked at JJ so he could answer. He was caught a little off guard but composed himself quickly. "Uh it's a baby, or well it will be soon, eventually."

"You're having a baby?" She looked at her mother who was beaming back at her.

"Yeah."

"Where?" Not a very specific question but she's known her daughter long enough to know what she means so she pointed to her lower abdomen.

"Here, and this is where you used to be."

"Can I touch?" She nodded and Iris came over and stood between her legs. She lifted her mother's shirt and put her hand on her stomach.

"A little lower baby," She moved her hand down to the right spot. "Right there." She looked from her daughter back to JJ who was almost crying. She took his hand while their daughter spoke to the baby.

"Hi baby," she used the same tone her mother used with her. "I'm Iris, you're inside momma right now, that's why it's so dark. You're a little bean." She giggled but her head whipped around at the sound of JJ's sniffle. "Bye baby, I have to go talk to daddy now." She kissed the spot where her hand was and climbed up JJ's chair to hug him properly.

She was only 4 but she knew better than to ask why he was crying, her mom explained it once. Sometimes people just cry, there doesn't have to be a reason, but sometimes they feel so much it just overflows. She explained it with a glass of water after Iris had a bad day and had to get picked up early. She sat her on the counter and got a glass from the cabinet, "Sometimes when we feel a lot of things, or a lot of one thing it's just too much and we cry to let it out." The water started spilling over the sides. "Then we feel better." She dumped out the extra and handed her the glass while whipping the glossy streaks off her blotchy face.

She was proud of her daughter and rubbed her back before clearing the table. When she finished she stood behind JJ and kissed the top of his head. "Let's go lay down baby."

"I'm not tired," he laughed while making fun of Iris a little.

"Then we'll watch a movie," She rubbed his shoulder and they all went into their room, the bed was big enough and Iris was small enough so they all fit comfortably. They turned on Iris's favorite movie and snuggled together with Iris laying on him and his wife's head on his chest, cuddled into his side. He had an arm around each of them and Iris dozed off quickly. He smiled down at both of them, so blissfully content at the life he built for himself he never even thought possible.

"My two best girls," he whispered and leaned down to kiss both of their heads.

"You're forgetting one." A voice groggily whispered into his chest.

"I thought you were sleeping and we don't know that yet."

"I was. And yes we do, it's definitely a girl. I feel it."

"You do?"

"You don't?" she asked cockily and he sat with it for a moment.

"I do," he whispered back and she giggled before burying herself deeper into him and the blankets.

"Goodnight, I love you, and our family, so much." She kissed him goodnight before adjusting the blankets over all three (four) of them.

"I love you, and Tiny, and Teeny Tiny, so much."

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