#home inspection marketing

[homeinspectorhelp]

Content Marketing

Are you ready to leverage the power of content marketing to attract and retain a clearly defined audience? Our unique approach to home inspection blogs focuses on creating and distributing valuable, relevant, and consistent information that addresses the questions and concerns of home buyers. This strategy establishes you as a trustworthy and knowledgeable resource in the home inspection industry.

To learn more about how our content marketing strategies can elevate your business, visit Home Inspector Help for the full article.

[getmemorehomeinspectionsnow]

https://getmemorehomeinspectionsnow.com/reputation-marketing/

https://homeinspectorhelp.com/ | Home Inspector Marketing | Home Inspector Help

In today's fast-paced digital world, social media marketing for home inspectors is not just an option; it's a necessity. This video dives deep into how home inspectors can leverage social media to expand their reach, attract more clients, and ultimately grow their business. We uncover practical strategies, innovative home inspector marketing techniques, and the secrets behind effective home inspection social media marketing.

Starting with the basics, we explore the importance of a solid home inspector digital marketing plan. Learn how platforms like Facebook, Instagram, and LinkedIn can become powerful tools in your marketing arsenal. Discover how engaging content, consistent posting, and targeted campaigns can enhance your home inspector seo and online presence.

But it's not just about being online. It's about making an impact. We delve into home inspector marketing secrets that set you apart in the competitive market. Understand how to create content that resonates with your audience, from educational posts about home inspection to behind-the-scenes insights into your daily work.

The realm of home inspection marketing is vast and varied. This video provides a roadmap for navigating it successfully. From harnessing the power of home inspection newsletters to innovative home inspection advertising techniques, we cover it all. Get inspired by unique marketing ideas for home inspectors that you can implement right away.

If you're struggling with how to get home inspection leads, this video is a goldmine. We discuss home inspection leads generation strategies, using social media to build a strong, engaging, and loyal customer base. Plus, we'll touch on the importance of a professional home inspector website and home inspection business plan in supporting your social media efforts.

For those aiming to excel in seo for home inspectors and home inspection seo, we provide insights into optimizing your online content. A strong SEO strategy ensures that your services are easily discoverable by potential clients searching online.

We haven't forgotten about traditional methods either. Learn how to blend home inspection video marketing and other digital strategies with conventional marketing for home inspection business tactics for a holistic approach.

Remember, every post, every tweet, every update is an opportunity to grow your business. Don't miss out on these valuable insights. If you're ready to transform your home inspection marketing and elevate your business, click the link below to learn more and take the first step towards mastering social media marketing for home inspectors.

Visit us at: https://thesavvyinspector.com/

Check us at: https://digitalproductsforhomeinspectors.com/

Read more at: https://www.bizbangboom.com/articles/the-benefits-of-home-inspection-seo

[mariewaltonrealtor]

I’m a Home Inspector: Here Are 7 Key Signs That House Is a Money Pit

I’m a Home Inspector: Here Are 7 Key Signs That House Is a Money Pit

[kc22invesmentsblog]

5 Mistakes to Avoid When Purchasing Your First Home: Protecting Your Finances and Future

Written by Delvin Buying your first home is an exciting milestone, but it’s crucial to approach it with careful planning and consideration. Avoiding common mistakes can help you make a wise investment decision and protect your financial well-being. In this blog post, we will highlight five key mistakes to avoid when purchasing a home for the first time, with a particular focus on the importance…

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader

I've been plagued by this idea for a while, so let me know what you think! This is just the character introduction. Your new landlord is a Yakuza boss, and his scary looking underling has been tasked to deal with your tenant needs! Although he didn't expect you to be this cute. And you didn't expect him to be this unhinged.

Content: female reader, violence, mentions of stalking

[Part 2] | [Yakuza Masterlist]

This was the last straw.

You're angrily stuffing your suitcase with necessities before the moving company arrives. Each glimpse around the cramped apartment fills you with outrage, as you're still heavily shaken from the events of last night. 

You first begun to suspect you might have a stalker when you found your outer lock with a fresh dent in it. You then picked a small scrap from the ground nearby and assumed it was leftover damage, but upon further inspection you discovered, disgusted, that it was part of your peephole. Someone must've fiddled with your door a fair amount. You tried to approach your immediate neighbors for help, but they either refused to answer your persistent knocks or downright scurried away when faced with your questions. They didn't want to deal with a foreigner. 

You tried to put it behind you. The police advised you to be cautions, as there was nothing else they could do without concrete evidence. And thankfully, you had several peaceful weeks following the incident. Last night you were suddenly awakened by faint scratches coming from your balcony. You groggily got up and wondered if your recently added bird feeder was attracting nocturnal visitors. You got up without turning on the light, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysterious animal. As you pulled the drape, however, you were met with the large frame of a man plucking your laundry in a hurry. 

A panicked scream erupted from the depths of your chest and you slapped the light switch, erratically searching for your phone. By the time you dialed emergency, the intruder had vanished. You were sobbing against the wall under the fake reassurances of the operator, eyeing the sliding door that had no lock. Had he wished, the masked man could've easily invited himself in. You were at the mercy of a lunatic and no one seemed to be impressed by your situation. 

No more. Ideally you'd go back to your home country and forget about your plans to build yourself a life in Japan. What were you even thinking? A lonely girl, low on funds, signing a contract to be relocated across the ocean for work. You barely scraped the first months of a mandatory year. 

You close your suitcase with a satisfying click and on your way out you wipe the table of all the newspaper clippings. You've been scanning the potential offers on the market. The ones within your budget, of course, which means you don't have to worry about being picky. Until you find a new place, your belongings can wait in storage. Dusty furniture is a better prospect than waking up with a pervert looming over you. 

By the time the clock hits evening hours, you're sipping on your iced coffee with a defeated sigh. Most of the cheap apartments seem to be given to locals. Not outsiders like you. At least they spared you of the false hopes and curtly told you to not expect any call back, so you can swiftly move on to the next circled address. You pull out the crumbled sheet of paper from your pocket. Reading over your list of crossed out lines like this deflates you greatly. At the very bottom lies your final hope: the ad you'd stumbled upon this morning was too good to be true and the realtor was available for viewing at any time, so you're almost certain it's some sort of scam. Yet you can't afford to skip it, can you? You stand up, pat your jeans and take a deep breath in. 

As you check your phone to confirm the location, you begin to doubt your decision. It's hard to believe no other potential renters have showed up. The apartment is in a convenient area, very close to public transport, at a great price, on what looks like a busy street. Isn't it the dream? So why? You glance around, examining the surroundings. The shops are bustling with people. You try to come up with possible explanations, when a deep voice startles you.

"You must be (Y/N), right? You sure are easy to spot."

You turn around to greet the person. Although the second you spot him, you take an unconscious step back. You'd expected a middle aged man dressed in formal attire with a shy bow and clumsy movements. The one standing before you resembles none of that. He's imposingly tall, with a muscular built and slicked back hair. You can discern the tattoos peeking out from under the rolled up sleeves. His face has multiple deep scars and you can only assume that the pale, discolored eye that's transfixed in one direction is a fake made of glass. One might call him handsome, if you're into the kind of appearance you see in documentaries about the mafia. 

"Y-you're the landlord?" You stutter, immediately covering your mouth and regretting your lack of tact. 

"Nuh uh, Boss sent me to deal with it." He flashes you a genuine grin, completely unperturbed by your offhanded implication. "I'm Daitou."

He continues towards the entrance and you follow behind, too awkward to back down now. He describes the living quarters with surprising enthusiasm. If you were to close your eyes and disregard his heavy Kansai accent, you could very well be convinced it's a professional real estate agent hard at work. 

"Excuse me for asking, but..." Once he finishes his marketing presentation, you cannot help the increasing anxiety. "What's the catch?"

"Huh?"

"For something like this to be so cheap...and no one else being interested...may I be frank and ask what's wrong with it? Please understand, I just left my previous apartment because of a stalker. I don't want to be packing again anytime soon."

"Well, isn't it obvious?" He searches your gaze for a moment, before gasping as if remembering something. "Wait, you're a foreigner, so I guess you don't know. Ah, that explains it." 

He lets out a hearty laugh, satisfied with his conclusion. 

"You didn't notice anything strange outside?"

You ponder his question before slowly shaking your head in denial. 

"Really? A bunch of heavily tattooed guys with family pins on their suits...This is a yakuza quarter. Our Family owns most businesses here. But lately we've had a lot of police on our backs, ya know? Bound to happen when the street is swarming with us. So Boss had this great idea - he's smart like that, ya know, I've never been the bright one - anyways, he suggested we rent some of our housing to regular civilians. Less suspicious that way." 

He crosses his arms and nods to himself proudly. 

"I myself think it's a great deal. You won't find anything cheaper for the kind of stuff you're getting. All you have to do is, you know, mind your business. If some weasel questions you, no Sir, you haven't seen or heard anything suspicious. That's all."

You can only stare wide eyed, somewhat taken aback by his honesty.

"Uh...Are you sure you were supposed to tell me all of this? I feel we're skipping some steps before admitting to organized crime."

Now it's his turn to consider your inquiry. 

"Probably not, but I'm not good with words. You look like a smart girl, so I thought I won't sugarcoat it. I'm sure you already know that if you leave and rat us out I'll be throwing your chopped up remains in the nearby river. Or would you want to be shipped home instead? I'm a nice guy like that, hehe."

You return a crooked smile and purse your lips in the process. You'd rather not learn the percentage of truth in his humor anytime soon. 

"You mentioned a stalker? I can guarantee you he won't follow here, miss. And if he's that dumb to wander on our turf, well, me and my guys always hang around the block. Leave him to me and I'll bring you his teeth in a box." 

"I-...Why teeth of all the things?"

"Just easier to pull out, ya know." He winks and reaches for his back pocket, revealing an old pair of pliers with childish delight. "See, I'm a bit of a handyman, so I always have some tools on me."

Strangely enough, you're not as terrified as you would expect from someone in your shoes. Certainly your knees are weaker when compared to your pre-encounter state, but there's something about his demeanor that doesn't feel malicious or threatening. Like conversing with an old friend at a pub. 

"Will I truly not get in trouble? You guys do your thing and I'm 100% not involved?"

"You have my word." And with that, as if closing the sale of his lifetime, he confidently slaps a stack of papers on the nearby counter and hands you a pen. "You already have my number, if anyone pisses you off just hit me up and I'll be at your service. Boss left everything to me."

No perverts and less of your monthly allowance going towards rent. Maybe it's your despair talking, but you've been persuaded nonetheless. You scribble your name in the designated field and shove the documents towards your new acquaintance. 

"Pleasure doing business with you, miss (Y/N)." He cheerfully dangles the keys before dropping them in your hand and heads for the door.

"Oh, is shipping included in the rent?"

He stops and turns to you, mildly confused.

"You said if I mess up you'll ship my remains home. Do I pay for the postage myself, or is that part of the monthly tax?" You ask with a cheeky grin. 

His eyes narrow in delight and you can tell he's greatly amused by your words. 

"Nah, consider it a gift from me. Gotta treat a lady nice, 'specially if it's a pretty one like you."

And with that, you're alone again. You look around the room, trying to visualize your new home. It's already getting dark outside. Now that you've had the situation explained to you, you can definitely see what Daitou meant. There's the occasional police officer patrolling the street, and plenty of men dressed in similar fashion walking in small groups. 

"And?"

Outside the building, a young man is leaning against the wall with a cigarette in his mouth. He seems to have been waiting for Daitou. 

"It's done. Some cute foreigner is moving in." He lifts an arm in a flexing motion, patting his bicep in a congratulatory manner. "Boss will be surprised, eh?"

"You're fucking with me."

"What? You wanna go back upstairs and check?" He responds, appalled. "Might've taken longer than expected, but I told ya I can manage!"

"Are you sure you didn't threaten her or something? I still don't know what Boss was thinking when he asked a nutcase like you to deal with the civvies." 

"Hey hey hey, I may not be all fancy speaking like you or Kazuya, but I'm not dumb. Matter of fact, she already signed the papers."

"I never said you're dumb. Just batshit crazy." The young man sighs and flicks his cigarette butt away, stomping on it.

"Let's go and tell the others."

[specshroom]

A Mischievous Fairy

˚˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˚˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹

When a humble farmer decided to live on the outskirts of town right next to the forest he did not expect to make friends with a small temperamental creature from the forest.

It was a pretty good deal you had going on, you help his plants grow with fairy magic and he gives you a safe warm place to sleep and home cooked meals. Most days are spent with you doing your best to annoy the poor farmer as he tries to remind himself that you're the reason his produce sells for such high prices.

You fly around his head making little jingle noises and he tries to ignore you and go on with his work. You steal little things like spoons, screwdrivers, pencils and put them in places he can't reach like on top of the cabinets and shelves. When you get mad at him you grow weeds in his crops until he apologizes or gives you a gift to your liking. Despite this the farmer has grown to truly enjoy your company...for the most part.

His loneliness is getting to him and he's tried to have company over but it's kind of hard to explain to guests why there's a little, scantily clad fairy staring daggers at them the whole time. It definitely ruins the mood as he tries to convince them you won't bite (you will and you have).

One day the farmer comes home from town looking more excited than usual. You plop yourself on his head as he walks around his little cottage.

As he sorts through all the items he bought you get impatient and decide he's not paying enough attention to you. You fly right in front of his face and pose for him, showing off the new outfit you made out of flower petals in his garden.

"Not right now, Tiny."

The farmer rolls his eyes and gently shoos you away with his hand, focusing back onto his apparently very interesting haul from the market. The very rude gesture gets you all fired up and you're in his face again this time with your hands on your hips and an angry expression. The farmer sighs and gently cradles your tiny body in his hands.

"Look, I'm busy. Alright?"

He walks over to the windowsill and gently plops you down onto the little pincushion he set aside for you. You sit there with your arms crossed, glaring at him as he puts away his items.

While you're sulking you notice a little bottle of purple liquid poking out of the farmers front pocket. You quietly flutter over and sneakily inch the tiny thing out of his pocket.

"Hey!"

The farmer tries to stop you but you're much faster than him and fly up, out of his reach. The glass bottle is a little bigger than you're torso and when you inspect it the label says "Growth serum"

You let out quite a dramatic gasp and look down at the farmer, betrayal written all over your face.

"Now Tiny, don't jump to conclu-"

The farmer starts but is interrupted by a very angry fairy yelling things he doesn't understand right in his face. All he can hear is jingles but he's sure he's getting severely cussed at. He understands why, you helped this man grow his crops bigger and better than ever and now you think he wants to replace you for some stupid, probably overpriced serum?

You angrily throw the bottle to the ground and the farmer dives down to clumsily catch it before it smashes onto the floor.

As you feel tears fall down your hot cheeks, you flutter back to your windowsill and sit with your head between your knees.

"Hey, don't cry now."

The farmer sheepishly leans against the windowsill next to you.

"I promise, it's not for the plants. You already help me out so much with that and I appreciate it a lot. I don't need anything else."

You peak your head out from your arms and look at him skeptically.

He holds his hand out to you and you hesitantly flutter onto his palm, enjoying the warmth of his touch despite the cold wetness of your cheeks.

"Truth is, it's lonely for me out here... and I know you get lonely too."

You scoff at him. Obviously, the whole reason you were upset in the first place was because he was ignoring you.

"I uh... I got this for you. So we could....uh well only if you want to, I mean... I don't know."

You stare at him dumbfounded as he fumbles his words, you've never seen the farmer like this before.

You shoot up to hug his cheek, jingling in excitement. You give him tiny kisses and he laughs at the ticklish feeling. You float to the counter in front of him and bounce on your heels waiting for him.

"Alright, alright."

He chuckles at your stark change in mood and uncaps the tiny bottle of magic liquid. You brace yourself as he carefully lets one single drop fall onto your little head.

Nothing happens for a moment but before you could feel disappointed the world blurs and you're suddenly face to face with your farmer.

He stares down at where you sit on his counter, now perfectly human sized. Your cute dress didn't survive the quick transition but you don't seem to mind as you jump the poor farmer.

You grab his face and kiss him deeply. Finally feeling his lips on yours makes your wings flutter and your heart sing as you lock your legs around him to pull his body closer.

"Alright, slow down."

He says through kisses and huffed laughs as you kiss all over his face and neck.

"Now why don't you let me show you how much I appreciate you."

He mumbles in a sultry tone, bringing his hands down to grip your ass and grind your hips into him.

He laughs at the way your wings violently flutter and takes that as eager agreement.

˚˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˚˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹

[nicolebrownrealestatebakersfield]

Nicole Brown- Real Estate Broker Assoc Re/Max Golden Empire

I have been in the real estate services business in the Bakersfield real estate markets for 19 successful years and will be here for many more. This longevity and confidence comes from my real estate services to a great many buyers and sellers, and their recommendations to others that result in repeat and referral business that keeps me productive and successful. Before Real Estate I was a lender, so I have lots of knowledge in this field.

As a full service Bakersfield Real Estate Professional, I work with buyers, sellers and investors in real estate transactions spanning all of the price ranges and property types. I'm REO & Short Sale certified. My goal is to gain a friend for life, and not just a client for short term.

Business Hours: Monday: 7:00am - 9:00pm Tuesday: 7:00am - 9:00pm Wednesday: 7:00am - 9:00pm Thursday: 7:00am - 9:00pm Friday: 7:00am - 9:00pm Saturday: 7:00am - 9:00pm Sunday: 7:00am - 9:00pm

Address: 3955 Coffee Rd, Bakersfield, CA 93312

Phone Number: (661) 363-3547

Website: http://nicolebrownhomes.com/

GBP Listing: https://www.google.com/maps?cid=10844963450566871291

Payment Methods: Cash, Check, Credit Cards, Debit Cards

Services: Home Search Assistance, Automated Search Reports, Financing Assistance, Price Negotiations, Inspections & Repair Negotiations, Contract to Closing, CMA, Comparative Market Analysis, Search Assistance to Understand the Market, A Marketing Plan that Works, Thorough and Objective Home Evaluation, Market Updates

Serving Areas: https://www.google.com/maps/d/edit?mid=1fV3rUe5SnBzWywoSDIZ3wl_yNB3xYqs&usp=sharing

YouTube Geotagged Video: https://youtu.be/wAwtYtWwSms

Slideshow Images (Google Photos): https://photos.google.com/share/AF1QipNj9WgaOMcUs04360qDAj1qibx_hxY-MZO0oVXC3N5JFm9PPInfCTjcoEf8_VlxBA/photo/AF1QipNtVVxzARhJ9J7kx9MYfmJ2LluSy-vnWpl01Svu?key=QUtkRjZPMm5oR29Ra3BNMzVtVHEtZDNReWxBRWRB

Keywords: Best Real Estate Agent Near Me, Best Realtor Near Me, Homes For Sale In Bakersfield, New Home Listings Near Me, Real Estate Agent, Real Estate Agent Bakersfield, Real Estate Agent Near Me, Real Estate Bakersfield, Realtor In Bakersfield, Realtor Near Me

[charliemwrites]

…. So Mister(s) steal your girl, huh?

Content: Unhappy Relationship, (Brief) Gaslighting, Sad Reader

Bombshells, you always thought, were supposed to making a whistling sound before landing. A high pitched warning of impending doom. Too late to escape the incoming devastation, but at least it wouldn’t come out of nowhere. There’d be some time to brace, for all the good it would do.

Maybe you watched too many movies.

Three months. That’s how long you got to enjoy the bliss of engagement before the world began to fall around you.

Your fiance came home and sat you down, his hand around yours. You thought he was breaking it off for some reason. What he did instead was worse.

In the aftermath you can only remember snippets of the one-sided conversation. Like tinnitus, an awful running in your ears left over from a dropped bomb.

Things like,

Still young, I want to explore…

How will I know you’re my forever unless I know what’s out there?

Last bit of freedom before being tied down…

If you love me and our relationship…

You love your fiance and your relationship. You don’t want to lose it just because you’re selfish. He’s still coming home to you, after all. You’re the one with the ring and all the plans for the future. So what if he wants to… explore? He’s even offering the same to you.

An open relationship, he calls it, like it’s some innovative idea.

You’ve heard of them before, never had much interest. Still don’t, honestly, but it was that or the desolution of 4 years.

You insisted on a long engagement. Your fiance promises that you two can revisit the open relationship when you’re married.

Within a week of agreeing, he’s leaves for the weekend. He doesn’t tell you where he’s going, who he’s meeting. He comes back Sunday evening smelling like someone else’s perfume with a hickey on his collarbone. When you refuse any advances, he sighs and says he “understands that this is a transition” and goes to shower.

It’s like that for six months. Weekends without him. Sometimes sending him off Friday morning and not seeing him until Monday evening. Lipstick on his collars, strange perfume invading the laundry. You start doing his clothes separately.

Six months. You spend months suffering in silence, sniffling through Saturdays and drifting through Sundays. Adjusting meal plans to cook for one.

The last straw is when you try to make plans on a holiday. You and your fiance haven’t done on a proper date in months. You want to go out, have all his attention on you, not shared with his phone.

“Ooh, sorry dear, I’ve already got plans with Malorie. Rain check, yeah? We’ll do something next week.”

You decide to go out anyway, sick of feeling sorry for yourself. Nothing fancy, just a bit of self care. You buy yourself a cute new outfit, put on a bit more makeup than usual, do your hair. Find an interesting little late night book shop. They serve wine and food and have comfy booths for people to read or talk or play board games.

The perfect place to be out but alone.

You’re debating the merits of a romance novel when a voice comes from your left.

“Love that one.”

You blink, glance up. Find a handsome man with eyes simultaneously so dark and so warm. Coals, you think. There’s a cheeky little quirk to his mouth as he nods at the novel.

“It’s good if you like will-they, won’t-they.”

You hum. “I’m more in the market for something… easier? If that makes sense.”

He hums, gives you a solemn look. “It does. Here, you might like this then.”

He plucks a book off the shelf and offers it for inspection. You feel awkward reading it the summary thoroughly, especially when you can feel his eyes on you. But you skim it, it looks promising, and a hot guy just suggested it, so…

“Read a lot of romance?” you ask curiously.

He ducks his head a bit, endearingly shy. “A bit, yeah. Call me hopeless.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, but can’t help saying. “I think it’s just romantic.”

His eyes light up. “Yeah? And what kind of books d’you usually like?”

Before you know it, you’re talking thrillers and horror novels with him. Recommending your favorite spooky novel and then following up that you always read a comedy afterwards as a palette cleanser.

You end up touring each other around the shop, talking books and authors and genres. Yet you’re somehow surprised when he asks if you’d like to sit with him. But you agree, a little thrill in your stomach that you haven’t felt since… a while.

You each buy a stack of books, then claim a booth and proceed to read none of them. He tells you his name is Kyle, that he’s in the military but on leave right now, stocking up on entertainment for flights or long spans of hurrying up and waiting.

You’ve never met a military guy before, and you trip over your curiosity. Trying not to pry but interested in what he does. He’s polite and patient, admitting there are a lot of things he can’t tell you but he’ll answer. You don’t stay on the subject long, figuring the last thing he wants to talk about it work.

He gets you back in the department of uncomfortable topics when he notices the ring on your finger. You’re quick to explain the situation, hot with shame all over again, eyes stinging despite yourself.

Instead of mocking you or just getting up and walking away, Kyle sits back looking flabbergasted.

“That’s fucking mental,” he says, “excuse me for saying.”

You burst into laughter. Haven’t told anyone any of this out of embarrassment, but hearing someone on your side is… good.

“I thought so too, but… he’s happy,” you admit.

Kyle frowns. “What about you?”

You blink, can’t look him in the eye. You know the answer but make a show of thinking about it.

“I’d… like to be again. This — the open relationship thing — seems to be working for him. So… maybe it’ll work for me too?” You shrug. “Worth a try.”

Kyle reaches across the table, a big warm hand enveloping yours. There are callouses you’re not expecting. Tantalizingly different.

“Would you like to try it with me?” he asks. “Don’t have to put a label on it or anything. But my schedule is a bit… it’s hard to keep up a traditional relationship, you know? But I like you, and I think your fiance is a knob.”

You snort, but flip your hand around, thumb brushing over his.

“Yeah…” you muse, and after saying it, a surge of confidence infuses you. “Yeah, I’d like to try this with you.”

His smile is absolutely brilliant. You won’t admit — not even to yourself for a long time — but you fall in love a little right then and there.

Next

Masterlist

[homeinspectorhelp]

What keywords should I target for my home inspection business?

Targeting the right keywords is crucial for the success of your home inspection business. By focusing on relevant and high-traffic keywords, you can improve your search engine rankings and attract potential clients. Here are some key types of keywords to consider:

1. Primary Keywords

These are the main keywords that describe your core services. Examples include:

Home inspection services

Home inspector

Property inspection

Residential home inspection

2. Local Keywords

Incorporate location-specific keywords to target clients in your area. Examples include:

Home inspection services in [your city]

[Your city] home inspector

Property inspection in [your city]

Best home inspector in [your city]

3. Long-Tail Keywords

These are longer, more specific phrases that potential clients might search for. Examples include:

Affordable home inspection services near me

Detailed home inspection checklist

What to expect during a home inspection

How to choose a home inspector in [your city]

4. Service-Specific Keywords

Highlight specific services you offer to attract clients looking for those particular services. Examples include:

Pre-purchase home inspection

New construction home inspection

Radon inspection services

Mold inspection and testing

5. Question-Based Keywords

Target questions that potential clients might ask. Examples include:

What does a home inspection cover?

How long does a home inspection take?

How much does a home inspection cost?

Do I need a home inspection for a new home?

6. Competitor Keywords

Analyze the keywords your competitors are targeting and consider incorporating similar ones into your strategy. Tools like SEMrush or Ahrefs can help you identify these keywords.

7. LSI Keywords

Latent Semantic Indexing (LSI) keywords are related terms that help search engines understand the context of your content. Examples include:

Home inspection report

Certified home inspector

Home inspection tips

Real estate inspection

Home Inspector Help provides comprehensive guidance on selecting the best keywords for your home inspection business. By focusing on a mix of primary, local, long-tail, service-specific, question-based, competitor, and LSI keywords, you can enhance your online presence and attract more potential clients. Our expert advice helps you optimize your keyword strategy to improve search engine rankings and grow your business effectively.

[mmbrealitygroup]

Welcome to Mmb Realty Group buy a home sell a home buy a home loading… sell a home search resources education at Mmb Realty Group, we believe that the first step to homeownership begins with education. Check here for information on the home buying process as well as any available grants and assistance programs

[asunflowerana]

𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐭

summary: usual grocery day with your husband

with: bokuto koutaro, oikawa tooru, sakusa kyoomi and osamu miya.

n/a: brought this one from my old blog, one of my favorites. I'm thinking about making a part 2 with more hq boys, I personally enjoy imagining them dealing with grocery with me 😂. hope you guys enjoy!

⊛ bokuto koutaro

a child inside a full-grow 190cm male body, that's what he is. The fact that he still pouts whenever you remind him that "no, you can't get inside the cart baby, you won't fit" proves the point. But besides his childish mood, he can turn your time shopping a lot funnier.

he does cart races, searches for lower prices like hunting a treasure, throw his hands in the air when he finds his favorite snacks and cackles at every single brand with a silly name. He's a total dork, but his excitement is so endearing that you cannot help but absorb it. It's actually sweet, the way he lightly takes a domestic duty. He's also helpful, willingly carrying the bags to the car, and storing the groceries later at home.

he yearns to stay close to you, so even if his both hands are grabbing the cart handle, at least some arm-brushing will happen. He'll feel pretty lost if you both need to part ways through the market, but it's cute how he beams when you guys find each other later.

favorite section: breakfast food section (he's addicted to cereal), and meat section.

what you usually hear from him: "babe, can we buy this?"

⊛ oikawa tooru

if there's something Tooru doesn't look forward to, is grocery day. He even tried to wipe it off the fridge calendar a few times before, but you're too good to be fooled. "the Santos already ordered by delivery, why can't we do the same?" and he always uses the neighbor's card to try to convince you, whining like his teenager version would.

but one way or another, you always get him to go. If he's in a bad mood, he'll probably sulk in the beginning, lazily riding the cart while sighing every two minutes 'cause this is a total "waste of time". But as the shopping proceeds, he gets used to it, even forgetting what he was so grumpy about when a product catches his attention. With some subtle kisses and a small treat, you can even get a smile out of him. 

He likes to wrap his arm around your back or keep you close by the waist. Not having you there with him it's the worst thing it could happen, so he needs to make sure you stay by his side (also because he simply likes holding you).

favorite section: checkouts (not a surprise), and cosmetics section (he can spend a good amount of time selecting body products).

what you usually hear from him: "are we done?"; "baby, I need your help. This one, or this one?".

⊛ sakusa kiyoomi

He's the one looking forward to this day. He gets uneasy when things run out in the house, so going shopping is almost necessary for his peace of mind. What he doesn't look forward to, though, is dealing with people at the supermarket. Most precisely, the lines, but let's not talk about it to not ruin the mood.

he's very selective, taking whatever time he has to inspect and be sure of the products, in case it isn't a common choice of yours. He appreciates being aware of what you are consuming, not only for being an athlete but because he cares about your health. He likes to share what he's been learning from the team's nutritionist, but he is not a dictator: if you want to treat yourself to some tasty sweets or snacks, he won't get in the way. He'll even join the party.

He'll offer his arm for you to wrap your own, or hold hands. He's grateful to have your company, so he'll cherish it as much as he can. He's also very protective if the place or the lines are too crowned, keeping you by his side and holding you close with his arm.

favorite section: cleaning products (you have no idea how relieved he gets when he goes there).

what you usually hear from him: "I know you want it. Go ahead, put in the cart"; "tsc, they always put the gloves way back there"; "these stupid lines. Again."

⊛ osamu miya

The king of groceries. He's used to doing this two, or three times a week, and it never gets boring. The experience has made him smarter about where and when it is best to buy, plus he has a good eye when it comes to product quality and price. So yeah, you have almost nothing to worry about when Osamu Miya is your grocery partner. Almost.

He's very chill and helpful while shopping, but you better keep a good eye on the cart: it'll get filled to the brim in one minute. When Osamu likes something, he makes a point of buying as much as he can. Once, he filled almost three entire carts, and half of one was just from rice bags. Someone might think you have a whole volleyball team as a family with the amount of food he wants to take home.

Hands on your back, shoulder, waist, any free space he has to keep you close to him – and he'll keep it there the whole time. Touch is one of his love languages, so there's no way he won't keep in contact with you.

favorite section: fruit and vegetables section, and bakery section (he loves the smell of fresh ingredients).

what you usually hear from him: "sweetheart, just one more. It'll be the last, I promise"; "hope Tsum doesn't visit us today"

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[k3n-dyll]

☆Strawberry Crush

Warnings...18+, wlw, loser!Ellie, fem!reader, a few reader descriptions based on the song (lipgloss, nails - nothing body/skin/hair-wise), Ellie is...kind of a stalker, honestly?, porn with a plot, submasc!Ellie, domfem!reader, Ellie is really eager and awkward, sloppy kisses, food play? (strawberry juice is involved), fingering (r!receiving), face sitting, sixty nine

Word Count:3.2k || MDNI Banner Creds. || Donations 4 Palestine

Notes ☆ Kinda hate this but I've had this damn song in my head for fucking weeks and I needed to write something about it (Spotify link in title).Should have done this when my theme was red but fuck it

Ellie's green eyes flit carelessly over the obviously bruised and beaten-up avocado in her hand, turning the bulbous fruit around over and over again as if she's truly considering buying the pitiful thing. There's a slight feeling of mushiness to it that kind of makes the hairs on her arms stand up - whatever poor fuck decides to pick this thing up once she puts it back in its crate is bound to find nothing but brown sludge on the inside.

Each turn of the overripened avocado is accompanied by a 'subtle' look around the market, her gaze fixing to the door each time the little rusted brown bell at the top of the doorframe jingles.

It'd be so embarrassing if she mixed up the time.

Not that this isn't humiliating enough already. Pathetic, even. No one in their right mind drives thirty minutes from home to look this hard, and for this long at an avocado.

On about the fifth bell ring in three minutes she can feel herself getting impatient. Today was Monday, Ellie was sure of that - the farmers from downtown had surely brought freshly picked batches of fruit and vegetables already unless something had gone awry. Maybe she should just head home and stop acting like a fucking crazy person. It's not like the average person keeps on schedule to a T every week. And even if they did, it's worrying that Ellie even knows that schedule. At least this part of it anyway.

Ellie juggles with the thought for a moment but ultimately decides to leave, placing the unfortunate-looking avocado back in its crate. It's just then when that annoying little bell dings again. She knows she shouldn't get her hopes up and yet she can't seem to help herself, looking toward the farmers market entrance to discern who it was that triggered the movement of the brass bell.

The thought that she was just about to leave makes Ellie's stomach turn. She'd have missed you completely. But just like clockwork, every Monday morning, you're here. And just like clockwork, every Monday morning, she gets to see you.

Ellie has given herself every excuse as to why her little habit isn't creepy. She's just trying to hype herself up to actually talk to you, and somehow during that time she also managed to figure out the exact schedule for when fresh produce is brought to this specific market so that she could catch you every Monday doing what you usually do. Buying strawberries.

You like those a lot.

Or, Ellie assumes you do. Why else would you buy them so religiously? Every Monday you come to buy strawberries. Various other things as well but she's noticed you take your time with the berries in particular - inspecting the fruit in each little green basket for at least a few minutes before finding one or two little baskets to buy and take home with you.

Ellie's practiced how to approach you in the mirror in her apartment before leaving the house more times than she'd like to admit, cringing at every little stutter and awkward phrase.

"You come here often?" No. Who the fuck even says that in real life? "So you like strawberries?" Well, duh.

It looks so simple in shows. Her friends make it look like nothing. Then there's Ellie. Reciting cliche lines from movies.

Not that any of that really matters though. Normally by the time you've gone up to check out your items, Ellie has already managed to convince herself that she lost her chance.

Maybe next time

Next time, for sure. But definitely not this time, no. This time she's too distracted by how delicious you look; the sway of your hips, the pretty smile you flash to the staff, the glittery pink tinted gloss spread carefully across your lips.

Your nails are red today, coming to a rounded point.

Ellie's tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip as her mind wanders. Those nails would make such pretty streaks in her back.

For some reason, the thought that she may be shamelessly staring at you doesn't cross her mind. Until it's too late that is. Ellie's eyes widen in absolute terror when your gaze catches hers, face dropping back to the crate of avocados she'd been pretending to look through a moment ago.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

She definitely can't approach you today. Not after you'd caught her staring - no - gawking at you so blatantly. In fact, getting out of this godforsaken market has shot to the very top of her priority list, a task she seeks to accomplish quickly, with her head downcast in shame and embarrassment.

It's just her luck that instead of effectively making it out of the door she stumbles over the dragging, unraveled white laces of the run-down sneakers on her feet, toppling to the floor if not for the similarly misfortuned person she winds up tackling.

"Shit! Sorry, sorry, I-I'm so sorry" she stutters out, cringing at the sight of once unbruised red fruit hitting the hard tile of the market floor. Her eyes meet yours and again she's frozen and embarrassed, a deep shade of red splaying her freckled cheeks and tips of her ears. You would be angry if it weren't for how cute she looked. You sigh.

"It's fine, really. Just...make sure you look forward next time you're walking, okay?" The soft, reassuring smile you offer her as you speak damn near melts her where she stands.

"Right."

There's a beat of awkward silence, Ellie nervousely tugging at her ring and pinky fingers as she gives you a small hesitant nod. "I should-"

"Maybe you could help me pick out some new ones?" You ask quickly, interrupting her, gesturing to the strawberry littered tile.

It's the first time she's spoken to you and given her clear anxiety, she likely wouldn't end up speaking to you on her own again. Ellie nods quickly, mouth slightly agape, though at this point she's lost all of her words. She simply picks up the dropped berries, some of which are now a little flattened and soft on one side from the impact, standing straight once they're all gathered to help you get new baskets.

"You okay?" You ask, as Ellie hasn't said much of anything in the past few minutes.

"Oh, yeah...sorry just...a lot on my mind" she murmurs, quieting back down again as she attentively unpacks your produce.

She doesn't even know how she wriggled her way into this situation. She'd thought for sure you'd call her a freak or a psycho when you let her know you were aware of her little routine. Instead, you just suggested that she help you with the rest of your groceries.

"It's a bit of a hassle trying to bring them up to my apartment alone. Plus...you kinda owe me for the tackle, yeah?"

You had feared the boldness of your invitation may give her pause but Ellie agreed without reluctance.

"A lot on your mind? Like what?"

"Like...how you don't seem unnerved about...y'know." Ellie murmurs, leaning up against your kitchen counter, the little giggle you give in response sending her heart rate up.

"I was honestly just waiting to see if you would actually come speak to me"

"Wait, really?"

You turn to her from where you were organizing things in your fridge, a small bowl of freshly washed strawberries in hand. You set it down, gently sliding the bowl out toward Ellie as an invitation to take one, which she accepts, twisting at the leaves until they come off of the top before biting into it. It's quite large, and very sweet she notices, a bit of juice dribbling down her chin as her teeth sink in, her hand clumsily going to guard any more from falling down.

"Yeah." you answer, to which Ellie raises a questioning eyebrow.

"You're cute, Ellie." you clarify, playfully rolling your eyes at her obliviousness. " And messy"

Before she realizes it, you're in front of her, holding a napkin to her now berry juice-stained chin and neck, readying yourself to pat her dry. Your lips are incredibly close, dangerously so, but she does her best to ignore it, popping the rest of strawberry into her mouth before gently taking your hand in hers to stop you.

"I can- "

"Just let me, okay?" You chuckle a bit, shaking your head. "You really don't know when a girl is trying to flirt with you, huh?"

Ellie blinks, staring at you as if you've just said something ridiculous, her fruit filled cheek almost making her look like a chipmunk in the moment. The insistence on cleaning her up, the invitation to your apartment in the first place, the fact that you don't even seem to question her infatuation with you. It all makes sense now. And she'd taken way too long to notice.

There isn't a thought process behind Ellie's actions this time, just impulse as she leans forward, closing the distance between you both and crashing her lips onto yours. A shiver of shock runs through her as you reciprocate, regardless of how unideal the kiss may seem - cold, sticky fruit juice now being shared between the both of you, creating a thin coat of strawberry and saliva on your connected lips flowing down your chins and slowly making its way to the collars of your shirts.

Ellie pulls back enough to actually swallow what's left of the strawberry and breathe out a quick "I'm sorry", though a part of her is too fascinated by the look of you with transparent red fluid trailing along your skin to be genuinely apologetic.

"I don't mind a little mess." You whisper in response, swiping your thumb along her chin to collect some of the juic. Something about the girl being so desperate to kiss you that she was unconcerned about the inevitable messy nature of said kiss put butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You keep her pressed up against your kitchen counter as you allow yourself to give in to your desires, only dethatching your kiss-swollen lips from Ellie's to press opened mouth kisses along the column of her throat, licking at the sweet red liquid that's almost managed to make its way into the loose, black wifepleaser she's wearing.

"Y-you don't think this is happening too fast?" she questions, despite her clear willingness to let you do as you please, her words coming out between heavy breaths, her entire face painted a rosy shade of pink.

"Would you like me to stop?" You ask, eyebrow quirked upward as you halt your advances and look at her.

Ellie shakes her head immediately at that, tightening her grip around your waist. She can't help but think that was an idiotic question for her to ask anyways. This is finally her chance, and she refuses to fuck up by overthinking everything as she has been up until this point. Your lips connect again with no second guesses this time, Ellie taking her opportunity to slip her hands underneath your top, pulling it over your head. Her mouth takes to your skin, sloppily lapping at the strawberry juice flowing along your neck and pulling your bra straps down enough to expose your breasts.

"Fuck, Ellie"

You slip your leg between her thighs while she's occupied with "cleaning you up" with her tongue, reveling at the way she whimpers and attempts to resist the urge to roll her hips when your knee makes contact with her clothed cunt. Her attempts prove futile, of course, the poor girl huffing and moaning against your skin as she grinds herself against your leg.

"So fuckin' needy, weren't you?" You tease, unable to help the amused laugh that escapes you at the sight of the girl humping desperately at your knee.

All Ellie manages in response is a nod, whining even louder when you press against her harder, the seam of her shorts pushing up against her clit at the right angle, her movements becoming faster and more erratic.

"G'na make me cu- fuck fuck" Ellie's muscles tense for a moment before releasing again, short, ragged breaths and muffled grunts punctuating her last few thrusts against your leg as she finishes in her boxers. Embarrassed, she buries her face into the crook of your neck, her already blushed face becoming redder at her unintended quickness.

"Shit...sorry" She murmurs against your skin, not sure if she should even look you in the eye right now.

You stifle a giggle and shake your head, running your fingers through her soft, auburn hair as a means to reassure her before lacing your fingers with hers. With your free hand, you lift her chin so that she looks at you.

"It's okay. Doesn't mean I'm finished with you."

The softness of your tone seems to soothe her, though the bashfulness still lingers on her features, green eyes casting downward regardless of your words. You press a quick kiss to the tip of her nose, and, fingers still intertwined, lightly tug her away from the kitchen counter on her wobbly legs over to the loveseat in your living room.

You lightly jerk your head in the direction of the sofa, letting go of her hand once she's seated. "Lay down for me baby"

Ellie, in all of her eagerness doesn't so much as hesitate, laying back onto the soft cushions, reaching out as if to pull you down with her. Instead of straddling her like she'd wanted you to though, you stay standing, a mischvieous giggle escaping as you lean down to kiss her on the lips once more before pulling back.

"What's wrong?" She asks, her brows furrowed in confusion.

"Nothing El. Just relax, yeah?" You murmur in response, hands now focused on slipping off your shorts. That's answer enough for her, Ellie's eyes widening a little bit as they fixate on watching your lower body, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as you pull off your shorts and panties in one go. You were soaked, and you make sure to let her know it, teasingly trailing a finger through your folds before pressing it to her lips, Ellie gladly sucking the digit into her mouth without instruction.

"Aw, look at that, I didn't even have to ask"

Ellie just nods, pink lips still caught around your finger. She's well aware of how pathetic she looks right now, but she can't bring herself to care at this point as she's too busy savoring the taste of you on her tongue, eyes damn near rolling to the back of her head off that alone. When you take your finger out of her mouth she whines.

"Wanna taste you more... please"

Her pleading pulls a chuckle from your throat, your finger gently running across her bottom lip as you speak.

"God, you're so impatient, baby. Does my sweet girl want my pussy in her mouth, hm?"

She nods vigorously, grabbing at your hand again to pull you toward her. This time, you oblige, allowing the girl to guide you to sit on her face, her slender hands catching around your hips. She licks a bold stripe along your slit before pressing a kiss to your clit, the amount of times she's thought about doing that exact thing noe finally coming into practice.

Ellie eats at you like a woman starved, lapping up every drop of your arousal, her lips latching around your swollen clit and sucking at it. The sloppy, wet noises coming from her mouth on your cunt, the muffled moaning and whining escaping her - it's obnoxious. But it's the sexiest thing you've seen ina while, her gaze never leaving you as she buries herself closer to you. "This what you wanted, isn't it baby? Spent so much time watching me 'n all you could think about - fuck - was having that pretty mouth pressed up against my cunt like this?"

Your teasing is condescening, your hand tangling into her short locks, forcing her head nice and close as you rut yourself against her tongue. The poor thing can't stop herself from squirming, pressing her thighs together, and for a moment, even detatching a hand from your thigh and snaking it down her own body to slip her hand into her shorts. You don't notice it at first, but when you do, it's clear to her you aren't having it.

"Nuh-uh, none of that, pretty girl." You lift up into a hover above her head, reaching back and wrapping your hand around her wrist to stop her. She whines again, her frustration obvious in the line that forms between her brows. "You wanna ask this time?"

"S-sorry, you're just so fucking sexy, I need you to touch me, please"

You have half a mind to make her wait longer. To pin her hands over her head and prop yourself back onto her mouth, but an idea comes to mind that you can't just ignore. You giggle, giving her a simple 'okay' and before she knows it you've shifted on top of her, settling yourself into a hover over her face again, but this time facing the opposite direction. She can't see what your doing, but she feels it when you start sliding her shorts and boxers down before leaning down and spitting on her already glistening cunt.

"Oh my fucking god..."

Ellie's thighs are shaking around your head already, her hands gripping at the fat of your ass as she pulls you back down onto her mouth. Your muffled cries of pleasure fill the apartment, the vibrations from her moans against you only serving to drive you insane. A thin layer of sweat coats your bodies as you chase a simultaneous orgasm, hips bucking and rolling against each others tongues with primal urgency as that familiar coil tightens within your lower stomachs.

"Fuckfuckfuck- coming, I'm coming" Ellie's mouth detatches from you as she's the first to go, her trembling legs clamping around your head and trapping you against her. She's shockingly quick to replace her mouth with her fingers, slipping them inside of you without warning. She's almost as despereate to have you cum on her face as she was to cum herself, and to her luck, you unravel above her soon after. Her mouth comes back to you are you finish, lapping up every single drop of cum you give her, fingers still lazily pumping in and out of your dripping hole.

It takes a bit to float back down to reality, your head resting limp on her thigh as you slowly start to catch your breath, twitching and shaking too much to actually move on your own. Ellie's not much better, her head plopped down onto the couch cushion, gently kneading your ass with her hands and pressing sleepy kisses to your inner thighs. When you're finally able to move, it's not much, only adjusting yourself enough so that your faces are level, nuzzling your body close so that you can both lay next to each other on the couch. There's a peacful silence between the both of you for a while, your foggy brains still processing how far you'd gotten with one another in the span of a few hours.

"So...you really like me then? Like actually?" Ellie breathes out, a hand lightly rubbing along your side.

You laugh and give her a playful punch to the arm, the fact that she even felt the need to ask that almost comical to you after everything.

"Ow! What was that for?" She asks, feigning as if the light hit actually hurt.

"Of course I like you, dummy" You murmur, kissing her cheek. "I've liked you the whole time"

Reblogs are appreciated ☆ tags: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery,

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (2)

Summary: Terry and Treece are feeling the sparks again.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,659

Part: 2 of ??

Warnings: None. This one's a safe for work slow burn. Enjoy.

Previous

Grocery shopping was Patrice's private pastime. She was the queen of her universe when she walked through aisles every Saturday morning. Every flash bargain and value-sized item bent to her will for a chance at making it to her humble abode and fulfilling its one purpose in life. Employees greeted her like royalty. Customers started conversations like old friends, always giving her the scoop on any sale they'd overheard in their neighborhood Facebook groups. She was happy. She was zen. She was in her element.

"Do you need this?" 

She was a woman dragging around a large man intent on breaking any modicum of concentration she had left.

Patrice stopped and looked over her shoulder at Terry, who held a bag of cotton candy grapes up in the air for her inspection. "No, TJ. Put it down." 

"Why? You like grapes." 

"Because we're getting grapes from the farmer's market. Now, put it back."

Her rebuke was sweet but stern. Having him as a way too familiar roommate was becoming easier as the days passed. But she'd be lying if she said she didn't miss the freedom to go for a walk, watch a movie on the couch, or even enjoy an intimate moment alone in her own house without a man looming somewhere in the very near background. 

He didn't allow her to travel alone, and she never had the energy to protest. 

"You don't have to talk to me like I'm a kid," he grumbled as he put the grapes back in their place.

"Then stop acting like one. I have a list. I know what I need." 

"I know what I need." He exaggerated his mimicry for maximum effect. 

"You see how that was childish?" 

"Whatever." 

Patrice ignored him in favor of browsing packages of beef for the best deal. If she didn't respond, maybe he would get the hint. And, for a few moments, he did. Terry took a break in conversation to scan the immediate area quietly. He noted each patron and their most important details before checking the exit and entry points at the front of the store. They weren't secure enough, but he could manage if the situation required evacuation.

A lack of action soon turned his attention back to Patrice, who still hadn't decided. He gave her a slow once over and smiled at how much focus she put into such a simple choice. Her brow remained furrowed in intense thought, transforming her into the ninth-grade Patrice he met during a chance encounter in the library. Truthfully, he didn't have much of an opinion either way. He just wanted to talk to her every second of the day, even if it meant being annoying. 

"Get that one." 

His sudden interruption startled Patrice out of her zone, adding a final straw to an already exhausted camel's back. Terry grinned in triumph as she closed her eyes for a calming breath. 

"Terry," she spoke, slow and measured to keep the peace. "Take the other half of this list and get out of my face. Don't come back until you find everything. I'll meet you at the register." 

She didn't give him much time to protest before she shoved a carefully torn half of paper into his chest and sent him on his way. He gave her a sarcastic salute, which she waved off without a second look. She needed a moment alone and didn't care if he came back with Fruity O's instead of Fruit Loops if that meant he would be out of her hair for more than 10 minutes. 

Terry found himself slowly meandering around the grocery store with a tiny basket in tow, exhausted by all the options on each aisle. If Patrice hadn't been so meticulous with her lists, he would've given up on the mission and gone back to home base with his tail tucked between his legs. 

After sourcing the perfect pint of Oreo ice cream as an apology for his behavior, Terry found himself drawn to the sound of laughter on the next aisle. Sure enough, Patrice was parked by the frozen vegetables and engaged with a man dressed in the store's colors with his eyes directed far too low to be looking at Patrice's face. 

Terry quickly reached her location, stopping behind Patrice to show her guest the full extent of his scowl. 

Patrice noticed how his once loose body language had gone stiff and sighed. She didn't need to investigate the problem. Only her human pitbull could make a man cower in fear like that. 

"Derrick, this is Terry. Terry, this is Derrick. He usually helps me get stuff to my car." 

"Ah, man. It's a good thing I'm here, right? We don't need you taking too many breaks from stocking. Mornin' rush can get crazy." 

"Terry," Patrice admonished with a harsh whisper and an elbow to his stomach. 

Terry remained steadfast, keeping his eyes on Derrick while taking one step closer. A taunting smile tugged on the right side of his mouth. He waited on any sign of fight from his unspoken adversary. 

Derrick stood in palpable discomfort, sizing up the outcomes if he decided to test his luck. Each mental scenario led him back to some instance of physical harm on his last shift of the week. He had plans for the weekend, none involving a trip to the emergency room.

Patrice stood between a rock and a hardheaded man, praying that the Lord would end her suffering.

"That's what I was about to say," Derrick answered before shifting his attention back to Patrice. "I think I oughta get going. See you around, Ms. Ellis?" 

"Same time next week." 

He nodded in half-hearted agreement and hurried out of dodge, with Terry keeping a watchful eye until he was safely around the corner. 

Patrice groaned with one hand, rubbing tight circles at her temple. "What in the hell was that about?" 

"He wouldn't even look you in the eye. If he can't look you in the eye when he's speaking, he can't protect you, and he doesn't respect you." 

"I'm not looking for his protection. I need this water loaded into my trunk every week when you aren't here!" 

"I'll never not be here. Problem solved."

His declaration was so sure, so matter of fact, that it left Patrice no room for retort. So she resorted to schoolyard antics. 

It was her turn to mock him with an exaggerated, deep voice. "Problem solved. Push the damn cart since you got so much energy." 

He obliged without protest and a proud, self-satisfied grin that Patrice couldn't see while she led the way to the register. An unexpected system error had halted all transactions, leaving them log jammed in a long line of restless customers. 

Together, they stood sharing light banter and running through weekend tasks, resembling any other couple making a store run to strangers observing them from the outside looking in. Former acquaintances, however, had no problem drawing attention to the pair from three spots back in line. 

"I know that ain't who I think it is." Both Patrice's and Terry's eyes darted up to find the source of the loud outburst, only to whisper 'fuck’ in tandem when they spotted Katrina Spivey waving her arms to grab their attention. "Hey, Terry Richmond!" 

Terry pretended to ignore being singled out by turning his back, earning a stifled laugh from Patrice. Katrina, not one to be deterred, used the moment to push past patrons in line until she reached her destination with a host of angry faces in her wake. 

"Well, if it ain't Mr. and Miss Homecoming in the flesh. You two finally stopped kidding around and got married?" 

"No," Terry answered without much explanation, his back still turned. Patrice reluctantly made up his slack. 

"What Terry meant to say was that we're not married. We're not together at all, actually. But he's here to visit me for a while." 

"What a blessing it is to have friends you can lean on when you need a helping hand."

"Amen."

An awkward tension settled into the conversation's lull, compounded by Terry's outright refusal to engage. Patrice was in deep water without a paddle and a co-captain who had already jumped ship.

Katrina wouldn't let the conversation end and take her newfound place in line. She continued to pry.

"Both of y'all look good! How long has it been since we last saw each other, huh? Gotta be since Terry's graduation send-off." 

Patrice feigned interest with a hollow smile. "Yeah, I think that was it. A looong time ago. All grown up now."

"And thank God for it! I remember how sad you looked all night because ol' Terry was moving away. Like a little crying puppy!" 

Katrina's laughter didn't quite reach Terry or Patrice, who bristled at mentioning one of the more contentious nights in their friendship. 

"Everybody's been a little young and dumb, right? Like when you and BJ got caught underneath the bleachers during state championships." 

Checkmate. A little reminder of her indiscretions had turned Katrina's condescending smile into a mean mug that could burn through anyone not equally as stubborn. 

Terry showed his approval with a light nudge against Patrice's arm. That was his girl. Sweet as pie but a tongue coated in venom when backed against the wall. He'd been on the receiving end on one too many occasions. It felt good to be on the winning side this time. 

Three seconds of a Western standoff had culminated in a gift sent via store intercom. 

"Apologies for the stoppage, folks. Our registers are back up and running. Thanks for your patience." 

Terry moved the cart to place items on the conveyor belt while Patrice waited for the conversation to resume.

Recovering from the sharp end of a verbal lashing, Katrina cleared her throat and grabbed hold of her cart in preparation to skip lines. 

"Well, I don't wanna hold y'all too much longer. If y'all don't think you're too good to mingle with us Francis High Hornets anymore, Corey's throwing a little Juneteenth gathering at his daddy's pool hall. This is my personal invite for the both of you."

"We were already invited. Maybe we'll make an appearance." 

"That'd be grand." 

"I bet it would."

Nice nasty smiles passed between the two foes until Katrina was off to harass some other unsuspecting patron. 

Patrice tried to let go of her frustration with an angry huff before turning to catch up with Terry, who was casually moving groceries from the bagging station to the shopping basket. He waited a moment before acknowledging the obvious. 

"You over it now, or do I need to iron a shirt for tonight?" 

"I'm over it," Patrice answered plainly. She calmly handed over payment for the day's groceries and smiled ever so sweetly to bid the cashier farewell. To an outsider, she'd returned to her zen state without much effort. Terry was no outsider and kept a cautious eye on her as they loaded bags into the trunk and got settled in the front seat of her SUV. 

"You sure you're good," he asked as he backed out of their parking space. 

"I'm sure, TJ," she answered with almost too much enthusiasm. Terry started a mental countdown for the other shoe to drop. "I'll iron the shirt. You need to shave." 

--------

The final verdict? A plain white T-shirt. 

An hour of searching, choosing, rejecting, and choosing again led them to a plain, crisp white tee. Patrice said it went better with her yellow wrap dress, which she chose because her girlfriends were all in dresses, and she wanted to match the occasion. It all sounded like made-up bullshit to Terry. Still, he accepted being treated like a Ken Doll because it meant that his Barbie would agree to a two-hour hard stop at the festivities. 

He'd already started his stopwatch when they pulled up on a busy street in front of an even busier hole in the wall.

The smell of fresh grease greeted them upon crossing the threshold from outside into Mister C's Bar and Lounge. Fried fish, French fries, and wings in any flavor you could ask for sat in the service window, waiting for their delivery to any one of the patrons packed from wall to cinderblock wall. Terry inhaled deeply and let his scowl drop for one second to fantasize about a bite of Corey Sr.'s signature catfish and fries basket. 

Next came the familiar mix of sweat and weed near the dancefloor as bodies intertwined to some GloRilla song neither of them recognized. Thick traffic in the center of the room paused Patrice on her path to the pool tables, locking her between Terry and a crowd that wouldn't budge. 

"Excuse me!" she shouted over a swell of crowd reaction to a new song. "I need to get by!" 

No response. Not even a look back as she used a hand to create space between her and a group of men debating nonsense. Before she could try again, Terry used one hand to push her forward and his voice to clear the way. 

"Yo, step out of the way. We need to get through." Direct and to the point. He left no room for misinterpretation, and his baritone's boom left no confusion about who was calling the shots. Patrice watched with her lips slightly parted in awe. 

The first reaction to his demand was the embers of confrontation. Each member of the group sized Terry up, noticing his heavy scowl and size in comparison to their own. Then, they realized that this wasn't a winning game. 

The flashiest of the group nodded, though disdain at the mere suggestion that he was in the way kept his mouth in a tight frown. "Yeah, you good, OG. My fault." 

Another light push propelled Patrice forward as Terry maintained with each man until they had passed. 

Once they were out of the mix and nearing their destination, he advised, "Stay close." Patrice nodded her compliance, shocking Terry into a slight smile in appreciation for her obedience. 

Sparks of electricity shot between them but had no time to turn into a total current before Corey called out to them. 

"Treece! Terry! We over here!" 

Surrounded by familiar faces from Francis Edward's Class of 2010, Corey welcomed them with open arms and his ever-present 100-watt smile. At a slight 5'6", 150 on his best day, he'd always been larger than his frame would suggest. Loud and flamboyant had always been the name of his game, earning him anything he set his sights on.

It didn't take long for the trio and Corey's wife, June, to fall into familiar habits and friendly jabs at one another as they took their seats in a makeshift VIP section by the pool tables. The Three-Headed Monster was their moniker in high school, and they moved like a military force. Terry was the enforcer, while Corey and Patrice served as judge and prosecutor. If you had an issue with one, you had an issue with all three. 

"Your security is lax. Who trained them?" Terry pointed out during a dead spot in conversation. 

Corey followed his eyeline to the two young men standing at the door and back. "My boy at the sheriff's office. What you see?" 

"They look soft. It wouldn't take much to overpower them and get in for some drama. You only have one exit. Somebody breeches this place, and you're on the hook for a tragedy. Plus, the one on the left is scared. He'll be the first to leave if things get hot. Watch him."

"Impressive," June remarked, smiling at Patrice, who subtly playfully waved her off.

"Hm." Corey took a long pull from his cigar, taking in the information before responding." You here for a minute, T? I got some connections over at Liberty if you looking to get back in the swing of things." 

"Contract?" 

"Whatever you need, man. You know I'm good for it."

Terry looked over at Patrice for some indication that she believed in Corey, and she returned with a subtle nod and encouraging smile. June looked between them and then at her husband before clearing her throat. 

"It looks like Kel and his boy are back on the pool table. You know he still owes you a game from when he cheated last week." 

"Hell yeah," Corey agreed as he turned in his seat to get a look at his enemy. "Aye, T, you trynna make $100 real quick?" 

"It's either that or you gotta come dance with me," Patrice challenged. "This rum and pineapple got me feeling a little loose." 

She wasn't lying. A taste of alcohol in her system was starting to make her want to explore parts of the Patrice she thought she left at North Carolina A&T. Every heart-rattling thump of Megan Thee Stallion's latest and greatest had her thinking about reminding everyone in the room that she could move with the best of them. 

Her little grind in her seat made Terry show teeth in a small grin before he stood to his full height and looked down at her. His eyes were hooded and dreamy from some combination of exhaustion and a contact high, reintroducing that spark from before.

"Don't go too far. I'll be back with your money in a little bit." 

Patrice's tongue felt too heavy to respond coherently past a punch-drunk nod. June watched her watch him make his way down the platform and into the crowd until both men were out of earshot. 

She whistled and shook her head. "That's a good-looking man, ain't he?" 

"Who? Corey? He alright. He's like a slightly more attractive Taye Diggs." 

"First off, ouch," June laughed. "Second, I was talking about Terry. He was cute in high school, but I'll be damned if that second puberty didn't take him to a whole 'nother level." 

"Don't tell him that. His head is big enough."

"You know you wrong for that." If the music weren't so loud, everyone in the building would've heard the pair guffawing over Patrice's petty insult. 

Once they contained themselves, June took a sip from her margarita and shifted in her seat to get closer to Patrice.

"He likes you still." Five plain words shook Patrice internally as she struggled to maintain a poker face. June continued. "I see the way he looks for your approval and damn near trips on himself to fulfill your every whim. You're all he talks about when he and Corey get on the phone." 

"They talk?" 

"From time to time. I think he needs a man's opinion sometimes, you know?" 

Patrice wrestled with the influx of information as June continued. 

"That man is mean as a snake. Always has been and always will be. But, you bring something out of him. Even if you can't always see it." 

"If that were the case, things would've been different for us back then." 

June shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe you're right where you're supposed to be. I know I can't make you do what you don't wanna do, but if what I say means anything, focus on today. Thirty-two-year-old Terry is so much more prepared to love you than eighteen-year-old Terry was." 

Punctuating her advice, June tapped Patrice's leg twice before taking a step away to refill their tray of food. 

Focus on today.

The words replayed in her mind repeatedly; even after their two hours were up, Terry had returned $100 richer, and they were back on the road to their quiet slice of the world. 

They rode together in content quiet, letting the Quiet Storm host talk while Terry tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music. 

Randomly, he would glance in her direction, assuming she had lost the sleep battle to her old friend Bacardi. When he reached over to adjust the air vent on her side of the car, he was surprised when she mumbled a low "thank you." 

"My bad. I thought you were sleeping." 

"No. My head is swimming, though. Don't let me drink that much anymore." she laughed. 

He chuckled along with her but didn't agree to keep her from letting her hair down occasionally. In his eyes, seeing her relaxed and carefree was a gift to the world. 

The opening notes of Tevin Campbell's "I'm Ready" swirled around them, sounding like a secret message to Patrice as she focused on streetlights to keep the contents of her dinner inside her stomach. 

"Hey," she whispered before she could catch herself. Terry acknowledged her with a glance. "Do you think you're still scared?" 

"Of what?" 

"Of whatever kept you away for so long?"

He thought for a moment, wanting to make sure he was clear with his word. "No. I was never afraid of you. I was afraid of bringing you along for a ride I might not survive. That's not a threat anymore. So, no, I'm not scared anymore."

You know I'm ready

To love you

Forever 

Patrice reached across the center console until she reached Terry's hand to interlock her fingers with his. He gave her an appreciative squeeze without taking his eyes off the road. 

"I-I don't think I'm scared anymore either."

Her heart raced wildly behind her ribs, and Patrice was that if Terry pressed his wrist close enough to hers, he could feel her pulse accelerate. He didn't mind either way. Sweaty palms and trembling fingers would never be enough for him to let her go. Not again. 

As if she'd break if he moved too fast, Terry brought her hand to his lips slowly. One kiss. Another. Two more. And a final one for good measure. 

When he'd had his fill of her skin, he pressed the spot up against his cheek. He needed to feel and absorb her until they were one body. 

But, for tonight at least, this was enough.

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse

[milliesfishes]

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚𝓘𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓪𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

[fem reader] contains: bullying, angst pairing: coriolanus snow x fem reader summary: Coriolanus met you during his time as a peacekeeper, and he resolves to bring you back to the Capitol with him. author’s note: Hey hey! First Coryo fic in awhile, I'm excited about this one!! Please enjoy! Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

You were lying between his legs, hidden in the trees away from the world when he told you he was leaving. It was a sunny day, and the shadows of the leaves were dancing over your faces.

Sitting up from his arms, you turned around, looking at him with your brow furrowed. "What?" You knew a peacekeeper's service spanned twenty years, and Coriolanus had hardly been here seven months.

"I passed the advancement test," he said, looking down at you, his blue eyes solemn. "They're sending me to Two."

"Oh." It was all you could say, and you pursed your lips, turning back around and leaning against his chest. You were quiet.

Coriolanus brought his fingers to your chin, turning your chin to face him again. "Sweetheart."

You looked into his eyes, brow furrowing. "So, you'll still be a peacekeeper? Just...not here?"

He nodded, studying your expression in his way. Coriolanus, you had learned, was always watching you, always inspecting you in some way. You'd grown to find it comforting, though now you didn't know how long that comfort would remain in your vicinity.

Biting your lip, you looked down, the reality of him leaving setting in. You'd fallen in love with him so quickly, and you now couldn't imagine your life without him.

Coriolanus couldn't either.

He'd been disappointed, at first, when he'd been assigned to this city. Bribing the official had been a last-ditch attempt to get to Lucy Gray. The chances had been small, he had known, but still he'd moped during his first week here. Not only was he in District Twelve of all places, but the person he'd spent the last of his money to get to wasn't even here.

But, knowing he wouldn't last twenty years pining over her, he'd pulled himself together and thrown himself into his work. Coriolanus was a hard worker, and he put his skill to good use, focusing solely on his duties.

That mindset had lasted all but a week.

One day he'd been in a bad mood. There were some unusually rowdy citizens that he'd had to round up, and the clouds were getting dark. On top of that, he'd had Lucy Gray on his mind more than usual, wondering (stupidly in his opinion) if she missed him, what she was doing. He'd been patrolling along the street, breathing in coal dust and holding his gun tightly.

There had been a rumble of thunder, and then it began to rain. Quickly, passerby had begun to scramble inside, and he'd cursed his shift, longing to go back to base and have a hot shower. Of course it'd rain today of all days.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone walking in the downpour. When he turned to get a better look, he'd seen you, carrying a bag on your shoulder.

Although you were strikingly pretty, that wasn't what caught his attention at first. It was the fact that you, in a now soaked through blue dress, weren't hurrying along at all, not eager to get inside like everyone else. No, you were meandering along, smiling as if there was nowhere you'd rather be.

He'd approached you, unable to help it. "Miss," he greeted. "You shouldn't be out in the rain. You'll catch a chill."

You'd smiled so sweetly it made his head spin. "I don't mind a little water, officer. It's a lovely change from the heat we've been having."

"Still," he nodded, trying to quell his thoughts. "You shouldn't be walking."

"I don't know any other way to get home from the market," you raised your eyebrows, teasing a bit.

Coriolanus paused for a moment, realizing you were right. He straightened, nodding. "Allow me to accompany you home, then. At least I'll know you're safe."

You'd smiled coyly, tilting your head. He remembered thinking how pretty you'd looked, with your wet hair sticking to your cheeks, rain sliding down your face like tears, contrasting your happy smile beautifully. "Do you do this with all the girls, officer?"

He'd been unable to help the slight lift of the corners of his mouth. "No miss. Just you."

That had only made your smile wider, and you'd let him escort you home. He carried the bag of fruit and vegetables for you, telling himself it was simply the gentlemanly thing to do. But as you'd chatted with him kindly all the way to where you lived, he'd found himself drawn to you, to your sweet nature, your beauty, you.

He'd never before understood how Romeo fell in love with Juliet so soon after Rosaline.

From that point on, your relationship had bloomed quickly. He began to let his guard down around you, surrendering to the pure goodness of you. He was wholly enamored by your being, by your existence. Coriolanus had thought coming to District Twelve would mean Lucy Gray at best, lung cancer at worst, but he hadn't at all expected to find a treasure like you amidst the dust and grime. The two of you cut a striking picture at first- the peacekeeper in his sharp uniform and the sweetest girl in town with a gentle demeanor.

You pried him open, softened his heart. And he made you feel loved, made you feel special. You cherished him for this reason, which was why this news of him leaving hit you so hard.

Back in the forest, Coriolanus propped his chin up on your shoulder. One of his hands was resting on your tummy, soothing back and forth. "What do you think sweetheart?"

"Of the promotion?" you questioned, leaning back against him. You didn't want to tell him how saddened you were by his leaving. So you, true to yourself, took the positive route. "You'll be happy there. You've worked so hard and I'm proud of you." You knew how he dreamed of escaping the lower districts, how much he missed his home. Transferring to Two was a step closer to getting back. "You deserve to go."

He nodded, kissing your temple. "Thank you, sweetheart." Then he rubbed his hand over your tummy again, the side of his head leaning against yours. "Are you upset with me?"

You shook your head, biting your bottom lip in contemplation. He studied you. "What's the matter then, darling?"

"I just..." you hesitated. It felt so insignificant. In your eyes, Coriolanus had a bright future, and you didn't want to weigh him down. "I'll miss you."

You were afraid he'd think it silly, but instead he cooed, pulling you more snugly into his arms. He pressed his lips to the top of your head. "I'd miss you too." He rested his chin on your head for a moment, thinking. Then, in smooth tones, he asked, "Would you come with me?"

Once again, his words made you turn around. You read his face, trying to determine if he was serious. When you found no trace of humor, you asked, "You want me...to come with you?"

His hand found its way to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. He smiled in a reassuring way. "Come with me, dove," he repeated. "I know you think I'll be happier there, and maybe it'll be familiar for me. But..." he reached over and squeezed your hand. "I won't be happy without you."

You searched his eyes. "Coryo, I can't-"

Coriolanus leaned in and kissed you softly, his hand running up and down your side. He pulled back slightly, that usual contemplative look on his face. "You've got no reason to stay here."

He was right. Your family was long passed or moved away. But that was beside the point. "This is my home," you murmured as he pressed gentle kisses to your neck. "I grew up here."

"But what does this district have for your future?" he asked, nudging his nose against the soft skin of your neck. He was clinging to reasons to keep you.

"I..." you didn't know how to counter. When he put it that way, he was right. But the idea of leaving here, the only home you'd ever known, was just so daunting.

Coriolanus met your eyes, both his hands coming to your cheeks. "What will you do here?" he questioned, shaking his head slightly. "I don't want you to marry some farm boy and make babies for the rest of your life darling." He heard how selfish he sounded, but he didn't care. "You deserve better, sweet girl. You deserve the world."

You felt yourself soften at his words. "Nobody could give anyone that."

He shook his head. "Give me a little time. A few years to move up. And I will be able to give you everything you deserve."

A little smile came to your face at his loving promises. And now you were actually considering it. Sitting back against his chest, you turned sideways so your cheek was pressing into it. "Is it even allowed? Bringing a girl?"

Coriolanus smiled reassuringly. "I'd send you a ticket once I got there. This is hardly the first time a soldier's fallen in love with a girl where he's stationed."

You nodded, then looked up at him. In truth, the idea was growing on you. To be with him, away from the slums, where you might have more opportunities to pursue the things you loved, sounded wonderful.

The other driving factor was the way he looked at you. The way he so clearly wanted you to come. He wanted you near him. He'd said you made him happy.

So, for these reasons, you sat up a little, and nodded, looking into his eyes. "Okay. I'll come with you."

The words were barely out of your mouth before he was hugging you tightly to his chest, peppering kisses all over your face. You giggled, cuddling into him and imagining your new life with him, far away from here.

He told you he'd be leaving in two weeks. Your train ticket would be sent about a month in, so he could get settled first.

You began to prepare, saving money and gathering together a few things you'd want to take with you. Living arrangements would likely be modest, but you were used to such things. As long as you were with him, you'd endure any circumstances.

In the weeks before he left, Coriolanus suddenly became very busy with his peacekeeper duties, and you didn't see him very much over the next bit. It was only when you heard awful news that you figured out why.

Sejanus, his peaceful, soft-spoken friend, was to be hanged. For conspiring with rebels, you'd been told. You were horrified. Sejanus was the last person you'd have thought to be caught doing such a thing. Your heart broke for him, but also for Coriolanus. That was his best friend. Even though their personalities were stark opposites, and Coriolanus was a little colder in affections toward anyone except you, you knew he was fond of Sejanus.

Since you knew him, you grappled with going to the execution or not. It would be horribly painful to watch, since he'd been your friend. But what if he was looking over the crowd, seconds from death, and he wished to see a familiar face? Someone who cared about him? Or would it be worse then? You went back and forth until you received a message from Coriolanus.

Don't come.

It was a hard order to follow, but you did. The whole day you cried for Sejanus. He didn't deserve this, no matter what he'd done. But like your mother would have said, he was in a better place now.

You didn't hear from Coriolanus at all after that. Knowing him, he wouldn't want to talk about what had happened with his friend, but you'd hoped to get something from him letting you know he was okay. The day he was set to leave came and went without anything.

During the month following, you practically slept by the mailbox, hoping and praying for a letter from him. Anything to let you know he remembered his promise. It was harder than you'd thought to live without him now that you knew what it was like to do so. You missed him desperately, trying to distract yourself but ultimately failing.

In a moment of desperation, you wondered if he really had forgotten you. But then you recalled the look on his face when he'd asked you to come. No. Coriolanus never made promises he didn't intend to follow through on. So, you kept your things packed and waited.

The day the letter came, you opened it eagerly, noting the heavy, fine texture of the paper. His initials were prominent in gold at the top. Maybe this promotion was better than you'd thought.

Sweetheart-

I apologize for not writing sooner. Things have been busy here. This ticket is for the twenty-eighth, at 9:00 am. I'll meet you at the station. I miss you.

Yours,

Coryo

Him closing the letter with the name you called him made your heart sing. He didn't forget you.

Then you realized: the twenty-eighth was tomorrow.

Leaping from your seat, you scurried to put what remained for you to pack in your small, round case (a pretty thing your mother had left you), making sure there wasn't anything you were forgetting. You hadn't renewed your rent on this house yet for the next month. The plan had been to send a letter to the owner from District 2, and you figured you could still do that. You'd thought Coriolanus would give you a little more notice, but it would be okay.

Waking early the next day, you donned your prettiest dress: a white thing with buttons to the waistline and little flowers embroidered on the bodice that tied at the bust. Brushing out your long hair, you checked your appearance several times before leaving. You wanted to look your best when you saw him.

When you presented your ticket to the stationmaster, he directed you to the first-class section. Surprised by this, you hesitantly settled, sure there'd been a mistake. But a few hours into the ride, nobody ordered you out. It was very in character for Coriolanus to do this. To make sure the long journey was comfortable. But first class? You hadn't asked enough questions about his new position apparently.

The train ride was long, but you hardly minded, watching the landscape whiz by through the window like a moving picture. Eventually, your eyes became heavy and it was clear your exhaustion caught up to you. You fell asleep, figuring it was okay since you were in a safer section. No need to keep guard over your possessions here.

Some hours later, awoken by the sound of the brakes screeching to a stop, you wearily stretched, sitting up from where you'd lain across the seats. You rubbed your eyes (not too hard as not to muss your light makeup) and looked out the window, expecting to see the rugged mountains of District 2.

Instead, the sight that greeted you was of a city, shiny and crisp. Buildings stretched tall; their grandeur surprising you. It was true you'd never been to District 2, but you were fairly certain that it had nothing like this.

Maybe you'd been sent to the wrong place? You reached for your ticket frantically. But no, it had your name on it. If this had been a mistake, it'd been a well-planned one. Looking back out the window, you saw a sign situated just on the outside of the train tracks.

WELCOME TO THE CAPITOL!

Blinking in surprise, you looked from the sign to the view of the city again. It certainly looked how you'd heard the Capitol did.

The conductor called for everyone to get off the train, and you stood, taking your case in your hand and hoping he'd really be there when you exited.

You stepped off the train, trying to see if you could find him amongst the crowd. People dressed very nicely here; you noticed as you observed the hoard of people coming and going. Then, as you made your way away from the tracks and into the station, you saw him.

Heart jumping for joy, you started to walk toward him. His appearance caught you off guard for a moment. You'd thought he'd be wearing his peacekeeper uniform, but he was in a red suit, a coat of the same color over it. His hair was longer too. He was studying something in the distance in his serious way. As you got closer, he noticed and turned to you, a little smile gracing his features.

You walked faster at the sight. When you were close enough, he held out his arms and you dropped your case, practically jumping into them. Coriolanus held you tightly, lifting you off your feet and burying his face in your hair.

"Coryo," you laughed, overjoyed to be with him again.

"I missed you sweetheart," he muttered into your hair. Coriolanus pulled back slightly to look at you, arms still holding you up around your waist. Yours were wound around his neck, and you searched his eyes.

"I missed you," you said softly, and he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was gentle, but there was a hint of hunger to it, and you knew when he got you alone there'd be more. For now, you smiled into it, nudging your nose against his.

Coriolanus set you down carefully, picking up your case and holding out his hand for you. You took it, the familiar feeling of his hand in yours lighting you up. As you walked hand in hand out of the station, you were overwhelmed by the sight. This was nothing like anything you'd expected.

He watched your reaction, smiling and squeezing your hand. "I'm sorry for not telling you darling."

"Why didn't you?" you asked as you began to walk down the street. "Did you know you were coming here the whole time?"

Coriolanus moved his arm to your shoulders as he guided you through the crowd on the sidewalk. "I thought I was going to Two until I was about to leave. They sent me here instead." He looked down at you, that little smile you loved so much making you melt. "As for why I didn't say anything about it; I wanted to surprise you."

You smiled at that. It was sweet of him. Then you tilted your head as you asked another question. "Is it the same position, just in the Capitol?"

He shook his head. "I've been discharged. I'm studying at the university."

Now that you were at a lightly less crowded part of the street, you stopped, looking up at him, remembering what he'd told you before about tuition and why he'd been sent out to begin with. "Really? But I thought-"

Coriolanus brought his hands to your arms, setting your case down for a moment. "Strabo Plinth- Sejanus' father- is sponsoring me. He was very grateful for my friendship to his son. And in addition to my studies, I have an internship with Dr. Gaul that pays. Extremely well."

All this information washed over you, and you stared at him in disbelief, trying to understand how you felt about this. Already everything was far different than you'd thought. But he looked excited, and you knew this was everything he'd wanted; to be back home with his family and you, a promising future ahead.

So, you smiled, winding your arms around his neck again and whispering, "I'm so happy for you."

He squeezed you once before you pulled back. Coriolanus lifted your chin with his finger, making sure you were looking at him. "It's going to be so much better than we thought, sweetheart. Just you wait." You nodded, unable to do anything but believe him. The two of you were attracting a few looks as you stood there with him, and you knew it was because you were dressed like the country girl you were. It may have looked odd next to his sleek appearance. You hardly cared though, too caught up in excitement that you were here.

Picking up your case, he took your hand again, leading you further into the city. You looked around at all the sights, excited by the buzz of it all. The structures were so distinguished, with their columns and pillars. It was also chilly. You shivered a bit, and he tightened his arm around you. Back home it'd been spring for a month. But here it still seemed to be winter. The cold, however, didn't stop you from gazing at everything in awe. The view quickly took your mind off the temperature.

Coriolanus watched you take it all in, a look of amusement on his face. He seemed to delight in your wonder. You looked over at him. "Are we going to where you live?"

He shook his head, squeezing your hand. "Not yet sweetheart. We're going to go somewhere else first."

Brow furrowing slightly in confusion, you let him take you to this mystery location, which turned out to be a tall building with lots of windows. He held the door for you, and when you stepped inside, you saw sleek decor, and a woman sitting at a receptionist's desk, looking like something out of a magazine.

She looked up as the two of you approached. "How can I help you?"

Coriolanus told the woman your name, his hand on your shoulder. "She needs to be...outfitted."

The woman nodded, giving him an impressed look. "I'll call someone in to assist."

"Thank you." Coriolanus turned to you, putting your case down beside you. He put his hands on your shoulders, thumbs smoothing over your skin soothingly. "I have a meeting at the university in twenty minutes, but I'm leaving you in-" he paused, looking over at the woman.

"Lyra," she affirmed.

He gave her a charming smile. "-Lyra's very capable hands."

You tilted your head. "What am I about to do?"

Coriolanus tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "It'll be fun, sweetheart. Don't worry. We're going to get you something pretty. Tigris said this is the very best place in town." He referred to his cousin, who he'd told you was very fashion centric.

Feeling a bit confused still, you nodded hesitantly, and he smiled. "Good girl. And I don't want you worrying about price or quantity. The more the better. I'll see you in a bit." With that, he kissed your forehead and left.

You watched him go, then turned to Lyra, who wore a kind smile, seeming to understand how you felt. "Don't worry. We're here to help you. It can be overwhelming at first, especially here."

"Help me with what?" you questioned, returning her smile nervously.

She stood up as another woman walked in, taking her place behind the desk. "Shopping, of course." Lyra gestured for you to follow her, and you picked up your case, walking behind her through another door.

Behind it was a seemingly never-ending space. You saw racks of clothing, jewelry peeking out from behind cases, and shiny bottles of perfume on shelves. Lyra smiled as she watched you take it in. "Like I said, it can be overwhelming. But it's not as intimidating as it looks, I promise."

She led you to a room with wallpaper in a pleasing shade of blue. There was a three paneled mirror in the center. Two comfortable looking chairs were positioned against the wall in front of the mirror, a side table between them.

Lyra told you you could set your case down, and you did, a little warily. "Would you like some champagne?"

"No thank you," you declined sweetly, and she smiled.

"Now, I'm going to pull some things from the floor that I think would fit you," she said, studying you in an observant way. "Are there any colors you like to wear in particular?"

You thought for a moment, shifting on your feet. "I have a lot of blue things, but I'll wear anything, really."

Lyra took note of this, promising she'd be back in a few minutes with a few options. When she returned with two full racks, you realized you and her had very different ideas of a few. "I sent someone to get shoes."

She held out the first dress to you- long, silky, in a light blue color. "Go on."

There was no area to change in, so you hesitantly stripped down in front of her, avoiding eye contact. She didn't bat an eye, zipping up the dress from behind and nodding at the mirror. "Go see."

Gradually, as you tried on dresses, you began to get more into it, spinning to see yourself at different angles in the mirror. The things they were giving you were very beautiful. You liked how the fabric felt against your skin, so different from the dresses you were used to wearing. Lyra pronounced the best colors for you to wear as pink, red, black, white, and blue. "But honestly, you're so cute you could wear anything."

Another woman whom she introduced as 'Cassia' came in with shoes. You tried those on too, testing them out with different dresses and experimenting walking. You almost felt like someone else in these clothes, but in the best way.

Lyra and Cassia flattered you, adjusting the clothes, telling you the best ways to wear your hair with which ones and what accessories would look good. They hung the dresses you'd liked on one rack, separating them from the others, and did the same with the shoes.

You put the dress you'd worn in on and followed Lyra out to the different departments of the store. First to jewelry, where you picked a few simple pieces, much to her pleasure. "You'll be able to wear these with everything," she said approvingly, holding up a necklace to your collarbone.

She led you to an area with nightdresses and intimates next, which you'd balked at. "Are you sure about this? Nobody will be able to see them." You were looking at what she was suggesting: a set with a black lacy bra and panties.

Lyra gave you a mischievous sort of smile. "It's less for you, and more for him."

"Who?" you questioned.

"That handsome man who brought you in, if I'm not mistaken," she raised her eyebrows. You caught her drift and blushed, looking down. She insisted you pick out a few sleeping pieces too, lacy nightdresses and sets.

You selected a scent of perfume too; one you liked that smelled like roses. Lyra handed you a pretty black and white bag that she said would go with everything you'd picked out today.

Much to your surprise, that wasn't the end of it. Now she was sitting you down in a chair in front of a sink, telling you to lean your head back as she gently washed your hair with warm water and soap that smelled like flowers. "To match your perfume," she clarified, as if to explain the choice.

She rinsed your hair and dried it with heat, using her brush to make it fall in sleek, bouncy curls. You smiled at your reflection, amazed at how chic it looked. Lyra applied a little makeup too, not too much because in her words you "were naturally pretty and don't need it unlike some other girls I've helped before".

When all that was over, she took you back to the room with the mirror, handing you one of your favorite dresses you'd tried on (red with a long skirt and short sleeves), and a pair of black heels. Lyra turned her back when you put on your new intimates, only coming over to help you with the brassiere, which was held together by a ribbon tied in the back.

When you looked at yourself in the mirror, you were in awe. Somehow you looked brand new, but also yourself at the same time. Bouncing on your heels, you thought of Coriolanus, and what his reaction would be. Would he love it or hate it?

Lyra smiled at you through the mirror. "Very pretty." You turned around excitedly, thanking her kindly for all her work. She almost seemed surprised that you did, as if she wasn't used to it. Adjusting your hair behind your shoulder and smoothing the sleeves of your dress, she said that you were a sweet girl and she'd be happy to help you anytime.

You helped her carry your four bags of things, plus your case, to the front. Just before you got to the door, Lyra took the bags you were holding, hoisting them in her arms and giving you a knowing look. "You come out last. For effect, you know?"

She opened the door, an impressive feat with everything she was carrying, and said something you couldn't hear to someone on the other side. You followed her, and instantly saw why she'd wanted to go in front of you. Coriolanus was standing there, his eyes on you as you entered.

His face, in its usual serene position, broke into a smile when he saw you, all dolled up for him. Moving forward, Coriolanus took your hands in his, lifting your arms so he could see you in your entirety. "Look at you," he said in awe. He put one hand down, lifting the other, still joined with yours, up high. "Turn around for me."

You did so happily, doing a slow spin under his arm so he could see the whole dress. His smile seemed uncontainable. "You look beautiful sweetheart. So pretty." He brought your hand to his lips, kissing your fingers. "There's a car waiting. I knew you'd have bags." He nodded at a man in a suit standing near him, and he started to gather them, carrying them outside.

Coriolanus turned back to you, looking over you again with an adoring smile. "You look lovely, darling. Truly." His affections pleased you, and you looked up at him proudly. Then he seemed to remember something, rubbing your arms. "Did you get a coat?"

Lyra stepped in, holding out the white coat with fur around the cuffs and collar you'd selected earlier. He gave her an appreciative nod, holding it up for you to step into. You slid your arms through the sleeves, and he turned you back around, taking the edges to adjust it around you, making sure you were warm enough.

You watched him do all this with a soft look in your eyes. He'd always doted on you like you couldn't believe. Coriolanus closed the coat around you, chucking you lightly under the chin. "I forgot to tell you how cold it stays for a while, darling."

The driver poked his head in, letting him know everything was ready, and Coriolanus took your hand. You turned to Lyra. "Thank you again for everything."

She smiled appreciatively. "It was my pleasure. Come back any time." You could tell she meant it.

Coriolanus led you out to the car, his arm around your waist, and you could see that you were attracting stares from some of the passerby just like earlier. Only this time, you weren't sure why. You were dressed like a Capitol citizen now.

When you asked Coriolanus about it, he smiled, squeezing his arm around your waist. "It's because you're gorgeous. You were before, but now you're beautiful in a way they know."

He kept his arm wound around your waist the whole car ride, and you couldn't help but think what a pretty pair the two of you made. For so much of your relationship you'd been mismatched. The soldier and the country girl. And a few hours ago, the country girl and academic. But now you looked like you belonged together, like you were dolls that came in a set.

The car pulled up in front of a tall, grand looking building. It was clearly old, but in a majestic way. The sun setting made the white exterior appear nearly golden. Coriolanus exited the car first, holding out a hand for you. You moved to get your bags, but he shook his head, offering his arm. "They'll be taken up. Come with me, darling."

Every step you took, you were more unsure of what you were walking into. A man standing guard at the front nodded at Coriolanus, and he returned it curtly. All the way into the elevator, to what seemed to be the top floor, you wondered what it would be like. Living with him. You'd never lived with someone you were in a relationship with before.

When the elevator dinged, signaling your arrival, Coriolanus looked down at you, reaching his other hand to where yours was clinging to the crook of his arm. "Ready?"

You nodded in an assuring way, even though you had no idea what he was asking.

The doors parted to reveal a luxurious space, more elaborately decorated than anything you'd ever seen. One thing you noticed were the accents of red everywhere. And the roses. Both the color and the flower seemed to hold importance. On some unconscious level you'd known this, known red was his favorite color but not why. Known he valued roses, but not the reason. You were thankful for your choice in dress, the same dark, rich crimson.

Coriolanus helped you take off your coat, but he seemed to be looking for something as he did. "Tigris?" he called, removing his own and hanging it with yours in the closet. Or someone.

A pretty, stylish woman with blonde hair emerged from another room. When she saw you, her face lit up. "Is this her?"

"It is," Coriolanus looked down at you proudly. You felt as if he were showing you off, but you didn't mind it one bit. "Darling, this is my cousin Tigris."

She smiled as she looked over you. "You're just lovely...I can see what Coriolanus was talking about."

"It's nice to meet you," you offered shyly, letting go of his arm. She brought you into a warm hug, and a comforting feeling bloomed in your chest. When she pulled back, she looked over the details of you with great interest. "Your dress is beautiful."

"Ah," Coriolanus said pleasantly over your shoulder, and you looked up, seeing an older woman enter the room. His grandmother, you presumed from what he'd told you.

He introduced you to her and she smiled, albeit a bit tightly. "So, you're the girl he met in twelve?" Her tone made it sound like that wasn't necessarily a good thing.

Tigris saved the day, swooping in and linking arms with you, asking about you, your interests and how you liked the Capitol so far. You told her a bit about shopping earlier, and she beamed. "I'll finally have someone to shop with! Maybe that's the real reason Coriolanus brought you home," she said teasingly, tossing a look back at her cousin.

He only smiled, holding out his hand. "I'm going to show her the bedroom, Tigris."

Playfully reluctant, she let go, smiling sweetly at you. "We'll talk more tomorrow." Then she hugged you again. "I'm very glad you're here. You and I are going to be great friends."

"I'm sure we will," you smiled, letting go and going to Coriolanus. He seemed pleased that you were getting along with her.

He led you to a pair of doors at the end of a hallway, standing like two white chess pieces. The king and queen, you thought.

Coriolanus took you through the door on the right. It was a rather pretty bedroom, decorated much the same as the rest of this floor, grandly with accents of red. Beautiful of course, like a palace.

"This is your room, dove," he explained, and you smiled at the thought of this elegant space belonging to you. Then, he opened a door you'd presumed was a closet. Behind it, you saw another bedroom, but this one looked a little more lived in. "And this is mine."

"A secret door?" you wondered in delight. He confirmed it with a nod.

"The washroom is just through here," he pointed to another door with a gold handle. "It connects to my room as well."

Instantly, you wondered how much time exactly you'd be spending in the room he'd pronounced as yours. He validated your thoughts, taking your face in his hands. No matter how many times he did so, you loved it, the feel of his big hands caressing your soft cheeks. "They've already brought your things in here. I'll let you freshen up." He chucked you under the chin lightly. "Meet me in my room."

Coriolanus kissed your forehead, looking at you in his typical fond way. "I'm happy you're here, sweetheart."

Your smile stayed on your face until he shut the door behind him, and then you leapt into action.

The bags of things you'd gotten today were set to the side of the bed, beside an open door that looked like a closet. You rushed to them, carefully pulling out boxes and trying to figure out what was in each of them.

Finally, you found the one with your sleepwear and rustled through it, trying to find something...acceptable to wear. He'd implied you'd be sleeping in the same bed. You wanted to be pretty for him, for your first night together in the Capitol.

You pulled out nightdresses and sleep sets, considering. Which one was the prettiest? Which one would he like the best?

Remembering the importance of red, you chose a nightdress of that color with white lace trim and a bow in the center. You would keep your panties underneath on, you decided.

Removing your dress and hanging it in the closet, you put the nightdress on, looking at yourself in the full-length mirror. It was pretty. It made your legs look long and your skin smooth.

You pulled your hairbrush from your case and ran it through your hair a few times, making sure you looked presentable. Suddenly everything about you looked wrong. You messed with your reflection, turning to try and see yourself from the back.

There was a knock on the door. "Is everything alright, darling?"

When you looked at the clock, you realized you'd been in there for nearly an hour. "Yes!" you called, adjusting the straps of your nightdress. "I'll be just a moment."

Looking at yourself one more time, you nodded, hoping this was enough.

Opening the door, you saw him standing at his desk, holding a file, reading the contents. He'd also changed, into a grand looking dressing gown that was open, revealing he was wearing nothing but his boxers.

Coriolanus looked up, grinning when he saw you, and putting the papers back on his desk. He came to you, reaching for your hands. "Beautiful." He looked you up and down, his eyes catching on your delicate nightdress. His gaze grew slightly hungry, and he pulled you to the bed, sitting and guiding you to his lap.

His large hands settled on your thighs, grazing the hem. You searched his eyes, trying to guess at his next move. Leaning in, he kissed you gently, pulling back to look at you. "Have I already told you how happy I am now that you're here?"

"A few times," you teased, and he gave a playful growl, grabbing you around the waist and rolling you over so he was on top of you. Coriolanus' lips trailed hot kisses down your neck, and you leaned back and enjoyed it, sighing softly and tangling your hand in his hair. He'd never had hair long enough where you could do that before.

As he ravished you with attention, you relished in your newfound position. Here you were, lying on silk sheets in a pretty dress being kissed by a handsome man who loved you.

When he pulled back to look at you, your smile was bright. Was there ever a girl luckier than you?

The second he'd met you, Coriolanus knew you weren't destined for the backwater slums of District 12. No, he knew you needed something grander, that you were born to live in luxury.

And besides, you deserved it too. There was a natural sweetness about you that made him protective of you, made him want to spoil you beyond belief. And until now, he hadn't had the chance or the means.

The second he'd spotted you in the crowd at the train station, his heart grew full. You were so adorable, a breath of fresh air in the windowless room that was the Capitol. He grew excited at the chance to spend money on you, and give you every comfort he thought you required.

Pretty dresses to wear, A grand place to live. Silk sheets to...well, he'd come back to that later.

Although the dress you'd arrived in was pretty, he wanted you to fit in here. Besides, you'd look absolutely beautiful in the classic style of the Capitol.

When he'd come back to collect you at the shop and seen you all dolled up, looking like you'd been born into luxury, he'd rejoiced. Obviously, he'd always found you beautiful, but there was something about the way you carried yourself now. You were every inch a lady.

He'd been slightly disappointed at how little you'd gotten, but remembering the way you'd lived in 12, he let it slide. In time you'd become accustomed to it. He'd send you shopping again soon, perhaps with Tigris since she seemed to like you so much.

It was only a few days after you arrived that the first social event you'd attend together came up. He was eager to take you out and show you off.

That night when you emerged from your bedroom in a black and white floor length gown of delicate tulle, a string of pearls around your neck, his breath was taken away. He took your hand in his, kissing it gallantly. "Beautiful darling. Absolutely stunning."

You smiled in your sweet way, and he offered his arm to escort you out. Tigris fawned over your dress, looking lovely herself in pink silk. The three of you made your way down to the car, and he could feel your giddiness at the prospect of tonight, though you kept yourself composed in a way he admired.

Walking in with you, he could feel everyone's eyes draw to the pair of you. As a new face in the Capitol, they'd likely be curious, and he relished in the unspoken interest.

Instantly people came to you. He introduced you to person after person, and you greeted them shyly, but politely. It was obvious after a while that people were becoming enamored by you. The sweetness of your being captivated them just as it had him, just as he knew it would.

Women fawned over you, complimenting your dress and asking where you got it. Men eyed you appreciatively, but saw that you were on Coriolanus' arm, so didn't get too close. Good, he thought, looking down at you. You were his. Anyone who got too close in the wrong way would be buried.

You chatted eagerly with anyone who crossed your path. He kept you close, but still greeted those who approached him. There were certain people he was required to talk to after all, but he wasn't going to let you go for it.

When you went off to get a glass of champagne, an older woman whispered to him, "She's absolutely darling."

Coriolanus' mouth twitched into a smile. "Isn't she?" He was pleased that society seemed to have accepted you, finding you as charming as he did.

The night progressed smoothly, and soon you were caught up in a group of women alongside Tigris, talking about fashion. He excused himself, deciding you were alright for the moment in the company of his cousin.

Making his rounds, he greeted senator after senator, oozing politeness. These events could be tedious but having you here with him helped greatly. He'd look over at you every now and then, just making sure you were okay. Every time, he'd see you caught up in conversation, looking like sunshine in a physical form.

He wasn't worried about your social graces. You were unusually well educated for where you were from, and by your own choice too. There was plenty in your pretty little head about topics Capitolites could discuss for hours. Both intellectuals and opposite. His angel could bewitch anyone she wanted.

You came back to him shyly after a little bit, and he wrapped his arm around you, pressing a kiss to your temple. He could smell your perfume. Roses. His favorite. "Everything alright, darling?"

You nodded, looking up at him. "Who do we talk to next?"

That made him smile. You were so eager to please. He rested his hand on your face, thumb running over your cheek. "We don't have to. We can go home now, love."

You looked nervous. "Just a few more? I don't want to be rude."

Coriolanus looked over you, considering. "A few more." He thought it was adorable of you to worry about manners; you really were too sweet.

He led you over to a group of colleagues, greeting them politely. The group of men looked at you with interest, showering you with compliments. Of course, these compliments were a bit more sexual in nature than the women from earlier, but he let it slide, keeping his grip on you tight. You were oblivious to it, chattering with them and winning them over the same way you had with everyone else thus far.

One of the men made a comment about the way your dress hugged your body, and his fingers splayed on your waist possessively. It's not her fault, he reminded himself. He made a mental note to keep you even closer at the next event.

You excused yourself for a moment, whispering to him that you'd be right back, and he was left alone with the group of men. Back to talking about what he considered to be uninteresting affairs, especially when compared to you.

Twenty minutes passed, and you had not returned. He was growing concerned, looking around the room to see if you were with Tigris, perhaps. But no, his cousin was talking to an older lady in a blue dress.

His brow furrowed as he looked, still trying to stay engaged in the conversation but failing. Where on earth had you gone?

Finally, to his relief, you returned. Your smile was tighter, wearier than it had been before. When he got a closer look at you, he could see dried tear tracks on your face.

Immediately he took you under his arm, nodding a brief goodbye to the men in front of him. Leading you out into the hallway, he searched your eyes, brow furrowed. "Sweetheart...sweetheart, what happened? Are you okay?"

You were trying to stay composed; he could see it. Breathing deeply so you wouldn't cry, you said, "Who else do we need to talk to?"

Coriolanus shook his head, pulling you into his arms. "No one. What's the matter?"

The second he had you against his chest you broke, tears slipping down your face like rivers. He held your head against his shoulder, letting you cry there. "Shhh, I've got you angel. It's going to be okay."

He kissed your hair, rubbing your back lightly as not to wrinkle your dress. "What happened?"

You sniffled, shaking your head against his chest, words muffled. "Nothing. It's nothing."

"It's not nothing if it's making you cry. What happened?" he demanded gently.

Turning your head so your ear was over his heart, you sighed softly. Then, "I heard someone talking about how I'm 'district' and I should go back to Twelve."

His blood ran cold, his arms tightening around you. "Who?"

"I don't know," you said honestly. You were so new to this; he should have figured you wouldn't recognize who did it.

Coriolanus inhaled softly, burying his nose in your hair. "Pay them no mind, darling. They're fools with too much wine in their systems."

"I don't even know how they found out," you muttered, pulling back to look up at him. "I didn't tell anyone where I was from. Did you?"

"No," he said, trying to think if he might have let it slip. Not that being from Twelve was anything to be ashamed of, but he knew the socialites at the Capitol would take it too far in a negative light.

You leaned your forehead against his chest. "I don't know how anyone found out," you repeated.

"It's alright, sweetheart," he promised, his voice a soothing coo. "High society feeds on gossip like this. They'll forget all about however scandalous they think it is in no time."

You nodded, unable to do anything but believe him, leaning back into his chest, safe in the cocoon of his arms.

When the next event approached; a gala to celebrate the president and his wife's anniversary, he watched you build yourself up to attend. You selected your dress carefully, trying to infuse confidence into your appearance.

Coriolanus had known it would be a hard transition, going from living in a poor district to the upper-class world. You were doing wonderfully on your part, and he reveled in that. It was the people around you that were having a hard time getting used to it.

Perhaps he shouldn't have involved himself so much in the world of parties and dinners so soon after returning in anticipation of your arrival, but he couldn't help himself. He finally had money and influence and he wanted to use it. It was like giving a man dying of thirst water.

Anyways, the both of you were stuck in this position now. You were making the best of it, enjoying the life he'd given you despite the whispers heard everywhere you went. His sweetheart had a gift for seeing the light.

Tonight, you looked especially beautiful, in a floor length white, sheer dress that Tigris had assured you was the latest style. You seemed very eager to please, checking your reflection a dozen times before you followed him out the door.

He watched you enter the party with an air of pure confidence. Here you were, beautiful as ever, determined to make everyone like you. It broke his heart a little, that you sook the approval of others so much. But he stayed quiet, letting you do what you pleased.

It started well.

You greeted everyone you'd met before, a bright smile gracing your face. Coriolanus felt a twinge of pride. That was his girl.

He looked up at a group of women who were eyeing you, whispering among themselves, and his eyes narrowed just slightly. Then he turned to you. "Darling, let me introduce you."

Walking you over to them, he put on a polite smile as you sweetly told them your name. "It's lovely to meet you."

"Pleasure," one of the women, a blonde, said, pursing her lips as she peered at you over her glass of champagne.

"Likewise," you gave her a genuine smile and Coriolanus thanked the higher powers for your innocence.

As you began to speak to them in your special you way, he relaxed a little. Maybe he need not be so protective. Maybe you could handle yourself.

After a few minutes, you leaned into him, whispering, "You can go greet whoever else you need to, my love. I'll be fine."

He furrowed his brow a bit. "Are you sure?"

You nodded assuredly. "Of course." Tilting your head up to kiss him briefly, you said, "I know you have people to talk to. Go on."

Coriolanus stood still for a moment, deciding if it was a good idea. Eventually he concurred, giving you a parting kiss on the temple and going off to talk to a nearby official who greeted him heartily.

You watched him go, then turned back to the women, smiling. "I love your dress," you told the blonde who'd said it was a pleasure.

She softened a bit, giving you a squinty eyed smile. "Thank you. It's from the new boutique on Third. I can direct you there if you'd like."

Before you could answer, one of the other women, a brunette, said, "Your accent is so unique. Wherever are you from?"

You froze at the question, keeping the smile on your face. "Up north."

The brunette looked amused, a little smirk on her face. "Oh, so like Seven? Or Nine?"

Another blonde cut in, laughing a little. "Oh no, I bet she's from Twelve. Their accent is very similar."

Feeling tense and not much like lying, you nodded. "I am."

Blonde number two seemed rather pleased to be correct, and she raised an eyebrow as she looked you up and down. "How did you wind up here, then? In the Capitol, I mean."

You ignored the pang in your chest. "Coriolanus brought me here."

All three of the women's faces lit up at the mention of him, now looking interested. "How kind of him," the brunette said, sipping her drink. "The Snows have always been known for their charity. First with the Plinth boy and now with you! How lovely."

It was a jab, but you brushed it off. She probably didn't mean anything by it, you decided. Straightening up, you responded, "Yes, it was. I'm very grateful to be here."

"But how long are you here for?" Blonde number two asked, her eyes wide. She seemed about your age, but you could nearly physically feel the difference between you two.

"As long as he wants me to be," you answered honestly, fidgeting with the sleeve of your dress and looking to see if you could spot Tigris. She was nowhere to be found.

"Ahh, I see," the brunette gave you a smile that almost seemed condescending. "Well, that's very nice for you. A little trip to the Capitol."

"Yes, quite," you smiled politely, feeling like a bug under a microscope. "Excuse me, I'm going to go get a drink."

Once you were away, you took a deep breath. At least they weren't being outright awful. It was better than nothing, you supposed. Grabbing a glass of champagne, you took a sip for courage.

You can do this, you told yourself silently as you made your way back over. Make them forget where you're from, make them-

"She's rather naive, isn't she?"

The words of the first blonde woman pierced your ears, and you halted to a stop, just barely in earshot. The crowd was thick, but you could both see them and hear everything they said.

"Well, she is from Twelve after all," the brunette laughed. "Did you expect anything different?"

"Such a shame for Coriolanus," the second blonde mused, swirling her drink. "I wonder if he felt sorry for her. Or maybe he got her pregnant!"

The brunette gasped, hitting her in the arm lightly as she giggled. "That must be what it is. He's such a gentleman, of course he'd do the right thing even if she's a whore. I've heard most pretty girls from Twelve are."

"Poor man fell in love with her and she's just using him," the second blonde shrugged. "Oh, my word, we have to tell Jenny and Mary!"

You were rushing off into the hallway before they could say anything else.

Hot tears burned your cheeks as they fell, and you leaned against the wall, hand covering your eyes. Why did I ever think I could do this?

You caught sight of your reflection in a mirror on the opposite wall, and it only served you worse. Before tonight it had shown a girl who fit in, who could be every bit as good at society as the women in the next room.

But now all you saw was an imposter. Nothing dressed up all pretty.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried desperately not to cry. You didn't want to ruin your makeup and have to go back out there with blackened eyes. Taking deep breaths, you tried to focus on the positive. Everyone else seemed to like you, that was good. The dress you're wearing is pretty.

Opening your eyes, you breathed in and out shakily, smoothing your hair and still harvesting good thoughts. You're in the Capitol. You don't have to worry about money. Coriolanus is-

Right there.

You caught him in the reflection of the mirror and slowly turned your head. His face was solemn. Silently, he held out his arms.

Like a magnet, you were drawn to him. His arms felt like a shield around you, and you could've welded yourself to him in that moment. As a peacekeeper he had always been protective of you, and you were happy that hadn't changed.

No words were said. He knew. Instantly he knew. And you loved him for it.

You were still trying not to cry, and he looked down at you, lifting your chin with a single finger. "Darling."

The single word broke you. Biting the inside of your cheek, twin tears rolled down your cheeks, and his face softened. He pressed your head against his shoulder, holding you to him.

"I'm sorry sweetheart," he breathed, holding you against him.

"This was a mistake," you hiccupped, lifting a hand to brush a tear away.

"What do you mean?" he frowned, hand running through your hair.

"I shouldn't have come here," you whispered in shuddering tones. "I know it looks bad for you, being seen with a girl who's 'district'."

Coriolanus pulled back, looking down at you. He looked determined. "Darling, if anything you make me look better. You've charmed just about everyone in that room."

Shaking your head, you choked, "I'm an imposter, Coryo." Your hands were shaking. You'd jumped into the river of Capitol society, and now the words of the women were stones tied to your wrists, holding you down at the bottom when you desperately needed air. "You should just let me go back to Twelve."

"No," he said instantly, tone sharp. Coriolanus held you tighter to him, as if you'd disappear to Twelve any second in a puff of smoke. "You're not going back there. You're staying with me."

"There is absolutely no reason to keep me here," you begged, searching his eyes. "You have so much ahead of you- you don't need me dragging you down."

Coriolanus heaved a sigh, looking firmly at you. He thumbed a tear from your cheek, studying you for a moment. Then, he reached down for your hand. "Come on. We're going home."

"You don't need to-"

"No," he cut you off, looking over you. "Come with me, sweetheart."

You trailed behind him, his hand in yours as he pulled you back into the ballroom. Flushing red a bit due to your slightly disheveled appearance, you kept your eyes on your shoes, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

Hearing Tigris' voice, you looked up. She looked concerned, looking between you and Coriolanus like she was at a tennis match. "Is everything okay?"

"We're going to head home," Coriolanus said smoothly, letting go of your hand and moving his arm to your waist, holding you in a protective way.

"Okay," Tigris said confusedly. "I'm going to stay a little longer. I'll call a cab." It was sweet of her, to let you go. You didn't want her evening to be ruined because you couldn't handle what other people said about you.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly, and she shook her head.

"Nothing to be sorry for," she said kindly, reaching out and smoothing the sleeve of your dress. "Feel better, alright?"

You nodded, and Coriolanus guided you away, through the crowds. Their whispering irked at you. You were convinced they were talking about the naive country girl and the Capitol's newest up-and-comer, and what a mismatched pair you were.

The car ride home was quiet, and you sniffled the whole way. Coriolanus kept close, his presence a rock in your panicked ocean of insecurity.

All the way up the stairs and into your room he was silent. It wasn't until he sat you down on the bed, and knelt before you, his hands grasping yours, that he said, "You're not going back."

"You have to let me," you responded dryly, your voice hoarse both from crying and lack of use. "I'm no use to you."

"Darling-" he looked away for a moment, seeming frustrated. "What did they say?"

"I don't want to talk about it," you mumbled, looking at your lap.

"You're going to talk about it," he said firmly, lifting one of his hands to take your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him. "What did they say? Don't leave anything out because you want to be nice. I know you, dove. Repeating what they said about you doesn't make you any less of a sweetheart."

Feeling trapped, you avoided his eyes. "It doesn't matter." What the women had said had hurt you, but you didn't want to be the one running to your boyfriend every time someone hurt your feelings.

"It matters to me," he insisted, forcing you to meet his sharp blue eyes. "Don't leave a single word out."

You bit your cheek so hard you tasted blood. Then, seeing no way out, you said in broken tones. "They said...I must be pregnant, or..." you didn't want to say whore. "...or a girl who sleeps around to have gotten you to bring me back here." His eyes darkened, and you quickly tried to smooth it over. "But it's not-"

"Don't defend them," Coriolanus stopped you, squeezing your hand. "Don't. Trust that they'll be dealt with, but do not defend them. They wouldn't do that for you."

"That's not the point, Coryo," you shook your head, scrambling so you wouldn't be the cause of anyone getting hurt. "They also...said I was pretty...?" you tried.

Coriolanus paused for a moment, then laughed lightly in disbelief, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing it. "You really are an angel, you know that? Always so worried about everyone else. I'll bet it was a backhanded compliment and you're leaving something out."

He'd gotten you. You were quiet.

He nodded in confirmation. "Right. But sweetheart-" he came to sit by you on the bed. "Come here." Coriolanus pulled you to sit across his lap, your head resting on his shoulder. "They didn't say anything true. Women in the Capitol are jealous creatures."

"That's likely all they know," you said softly as he rubbed your back soothingly. "The poor things...growing up competing with each other like that."

Coriolanus kissed your temple, chuckling ironically. "You're too sweet. It'll be your downfall someday."

"They were right, though," you said softly, your fingers hooked on the buttons of his shirt.

"Baby," he muttered against your hair. "No."

You looked up at him, and he exhaled softly, his fingers running through your hair. "I don't want you talking about yourself like that. Especially when what those women think is in the minority."

Furrowing your brow, you tilted your head. "What do you mean?"

He scoffed lightly, in a fond way. "Sweetheart, do you know how many people have asked me about the charming girl I brought home with me? How enchanting everyone finds you?" Coriolanus squeezed your arm. "You've entranced everyone that matters."

"But-"

"There's always going to be someone who can't find it in their heart to admit they like you," he assured, nudging a kiss against your temple. "But you, my angel...you're perfect. And you're staying right here. With me."

The possessiveness of his words did not escape you, but it made you feel safer. "I don't want to hurt your position."

"You are the last thing that would hurt that," Coriolanus stated, and the way he said it made you believe it too. "If anything, you're an asset. The way you draw people in, you're a born higher-up's wife. And you're a thousand times sweeter."

He put both hands on the sides of your face. "I have never found you anything less than radiant. Never. And I do not want you do go back to Twelve. You deserve better. I want you here with me. Do you understand?"

Moved by his words, you nodded, and he wrapped his arms back around you, tucking you into his chest. "That's my good girl." He kissed the top of your head, rubbing your back. "I love you. I'm not about to let you go for anything."

"I love you too," you breathed, eyes closing as your body melted against his. It was safe here. And in that moment, you saw forever with him, here where he wanted you.

Seeing you in distress was agony. Coriolanus never wanted that to happen again.

He had to be careful with how he handled things, however. You were innocent, unknowing. And that was just the way he liked it.

Holding you there in his arms that night, he vowed not to let anyone who made you cry walk the planet. Someone who'd hurt a creature as sweet and good as you were didn't deserve to live anyways, he justified.

Coriolanus had big plans for the future. As he rose to power, it'd be less and less of an issue getting you what he thought you deserved.

And it'd be even less of an issue hiding from you what he had done to get there.

You would never find out that he was the cause of Sejanus' death. You would never know what became of the women who spoke so illy of you tonight. No, he'd continue to distract you with the shine and luster of the Capitol. Tomorrow, he'd send you out for a day with Tigris and then leave his internship early to spend the evening with you. Maybe armed with a gift or two. It likely wouldn't even be as hard as he was thinking, given your tendency to focus on the light.

He would do everything over and over again because he adored you. The love, the light of his life. Too good for this world, his alone to protect and cherish and dote on. He would live for you; he would kill for you.

This was only the beginning.

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