#very tired doctor lady

[opens-up-4-nobody]

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[dreamescapeswriting]

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

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

TW: mentions of violence, blood and swearing

CHAN:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MINHO:

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

Or so you'd thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You know I'd never do that."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHANGBIN:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You've resorted to kidnapping now?"

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

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

"I would never-"

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Still a crime," 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

JISUNG:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

FELIX:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SEUNGMIN:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

JEONGIN:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[iiotic]

Alastor x reader who is always very tired, and end up falling asleep anywhere. Falling asleep on a chair, falling asleep against a wall, falling asleep standing up, ect ect.

(A/N) Love it!! Thanks for the request i hope you enjoy <3 (I hope you don't mind that I did it with human Alastor)

༻༉Human! Alastor with tired Gn! Reader

TW - None??

I don't think that he would have a big problem with it!! Unless you would fall asleep when he's yapping about his "very important" radio show.

He'd be quite offended in fact! Many ladies would die for him to even look at them and you just fell asleep? When he is talking about such important things? Quite rude.

However he thinks it kinda cute when he sees you in public sleeping, against a wall really unbothered that there are people around.

Starts to get concerned when he sees you sleeping while you're just standing. Are you okay? Should he call a doctor??

Is okay with you sleeping on him. Whether it's his shoulder, arm or chest just don't sleep entirely on him!!

If the relationship just started he will be quite uncomfortable with you sleeping on him, wanting to shoo you off but will never tell you that

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

broken trust. [part 2] l Joel Miller

Summary:  you used to be very close, but he broke your heart, now your paths have crossed again

Warnings:  angst, swearing, mentions of sex, Ellie appears

 A/N: I was very happy with how you received the first part of this story. I hope you'll stay with me a little longer and see where it leads us. a few people mentioned tagging - @vickie5446 @dreamtofus 🖤 This part is rather nothing interesting, but I hope you won't waste too much time.

[PART 1]

It was strange to have you by his side again. Although the entire drive to Jackson was silent, Joel felt as if someone had put a gun barrel to his head. Dusk fell rather quickly, the warm evening air filling the car as you cracked the window open.

The patrol you met didn't cause you any trouble and you got to Jackson when the city was lit up by streetlights.

The car parked in front of a building marked as a medical clinic.

"Go home." Joel muttered as Ellie started walking with you towards the front door.

"I don't want to. I'm going with you." The girl was outraged.

"No need. Go."

Ellie snorted, but adjusted her backpack on her shoulder, muttered a quiet "Bye" in your direction and headed down the main street of Jackson.

He was hoping you would say something, but all he heard was the clinic door opening and he saw you disappear inside. 

Joel never liked doctors. Every visit reminded him of uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room, nervous nurses and doctors who treated everyone with contempt. And that whole strange smell.

The place was neat and clean though, and the doctor, an older man with a slightly nervous disposition, was quite pleasant and didn't take up much of the others' time.

"Y/N!" he smiled happily seeing you in the doorway "I'm very happy to see you. Is everything okay?"

"Hi, Doc. I brought you a patient, but I don't think you'll have much work with him." You replied, smiling at the sight of the friendly face.

"Mr. Miller? What happened to you?" the doctor showed Joel to a chair and helped him take off his jacket. "It doesn't look bad. We'll manage, Mr. Miller."

The doctor carefully disinfected his wound and put in a few stitches. Joel saw out of the corner of his eye how you were walking lazily around the office looking at old anatomy posters and joking with Doc. 

Thousands of questions were spinning in his head and he didn't know who he should ask them to, because he knew that he had no right to ask them to you after all this time.

"What about you, young lady?" Doc washed his hands under the tap in the corner of the room and looked at you "How did everything heal?"

"Good, I guess. The scar is healing nicely." you replied and rolled your eyes seeing as Doc gestured for you to come over "No need, really."

Joel frowned and looked up at you. Maybe he shouldn't have done this, but he felt a strange pang in his heart. You were hurt.

Although Doc was covering you, he saw you lift your shirt, showing the doctor your side.

"Mhm. It looks really good." the doctor mumbled "But you have to be careful, okay? And...What is this?"

Now Joel could see clearly, your back was clearly bruised and you hissed when Doc touched the spot.

"The ribs are intact, that's good. When did this happen?"

"Today. But it's my fault. I got distracted."

"Mhm." the man nodded "You need to rest, Y/N. I know I can't force you to do anything, but please, get a good night's sleep and eat something."

"Yes, sir." you smiled "Can I go now?"

You left the clinic and only outside, when Joel spoke to you, did you realize that he had followed you.

"Y/N." Your name still sounded the same on his lips "Do you wanna talk?"

You zipped up your jacket to protect yourself from the cold and looked at Joel. He hadn't changed that much since you last saw him. He might have been more tired, but he was still the same man you'd woken up and fallen asleep next to so many times.

"I don't think we have anything to talk about." You replied, shoving your hands into your pockets "It's good to see you. I'm glad you're alive."

"Today's thanks to you."

"Yeah, take this as a favor for old times. Listen, I'd like to take a shower and lie down, I think I'll go now."

The man nodded. You turned around and started walking away, but after a few steps you stopped and looked at him again. He didn't move even a single step.

"Joel? I'm really glad you found Tommy. And that you're both alive."

The next gloomy days passed, but your enthusiasm didn’t decrease. Joel saw your notes, you calculated everything you needed to come to an agreement with Howard and his friend. Getting out of QZ was your little obsession. You practically didn’t talk about anything else.

And Joel felt worse and worse. He had the impression that a noose was tightening around his neck, which was getting tighter with each passing day.

The first blow came after more than a week. He was in town exchanging food stamps when your fingers tightened on his arm.

"What happened?" he asked, seeing the mixture of different emotions on your face. "Are you okay?"

"Nothing is okay." you mumbled. "We're in deep shit."

Joel looked around uncertainly. The street wasn’t a good place for such conversations. He grabbed your hand and led you home. But he already knew - it had begun.

You didn't say a word the whole way, and when you entered the apartment you just threw off your bag and jacket, sat on the couch and hid your face in your hands.

"Baby?"

You let out a groan of a person who is resigned and angry at the same time. You were filled with emotions and thoughts to the very limits, you needed a moment to yourself. However, after a few minutes he heard your voice.

"He sold it. He sold it, Joel." Your hands slid off your face and Joel saw your glassy eyes "That fucking car, is gone."

A snort escaped your lips, a mixture of laughter and mockery. Joel felt himself sinking deeper and deeper inside.

"I met Howard, he said it was over. I wanted to know more, but he told me to leave it..." you continued, staring blankly at your hands "Leave it! How... How am I supposed to leave it?!"

He approached and sat on the coffee table right in front of you, taking your hands in his. Seeing you like this was just sad.

"I should kill him." You muttered angrily. "I should do it."

"You know you can't. They'll catch you and it'll be even worse."

"I don't fucking care, Joel." Your hands slipped out of his. "He took away our chance. We were supposed to get out of here…"

"I know, I know, babe."

Finally, tears escaped from under your eyelids. It was one of the saddest sights for Joel. You were always so strong, you were on his side and he trusted you like no one else. But in that moment, your faith and hope for a better tomorrow shattered into a thousand pieces.

He allowed you to despair. And it lasted for several days. Joel often saw your red eyes, rarely heard your voice, and was also sure that you barely slept at night.

He wasn't ready for something like this, but he was sure you could handle it. You were tough, you'd get over it and soon everything would be back to normal.

He breathed a sigh of relief when one night he felt your arms wrap around his waist, you snuggled into his back, saying a quiet "I'm sorry."

But Joel knew it wasn't you who should be apologizing.

Tommy finished his coffee and looked at his brother. When he showed up at his house that morning, he seemed really down. At first, Tommy thought he was talking about his failed fling with Ellie. He had heard about it and was really glad that you were the one who found him and the kid.

"So you know Y/N?" he asked.

Joel nodded.

"From Boston?"

Another nod.

"Hmm, you don't seem happy to see her. Am I wrong?"

Joel's long fingers twirled the coffee cup around, he winced slightly.

"That's not it." he finally spoke up. "We have..."

"A story. I get it." Tommy stretched in his chair. "She's been here for a long time. Maybe two winters, I think. She's really helpful. She found and brought Doc here, that helped us. She brought some equipment to the clinic. That helped Maria give birth."

"Yeah, she's good at finding things. And people."

The sound of footsteps upstairs and the babbling of a baby distracted them for a moment. Life went on as usual in this house, and while Joel was always welcome, he knew he had to take care of his own life.

"Talk to her," Tommy finally said, as if reading his brother's mind. "It couldn't have been that bad, could it?"

It was bad.

All your fears came back in the blink of an eye. When you saw Joel after so long, you felt like you were seeing a ghost. You managed to hide all the memories associated with him and the emotions that accompanied them very well somewhere in the back of your head.

Now, however, they scattered around your mind and didn't give you peace. Neither coffee nor a long shower helped. After a sleepless night, you felt like a living corpse, and your back was giving you painful symptoms.

But you couldn't stay in your apartment, you had to do something. So you went outside with the intention of taking what you managed to get during your last trip, to the clinic. Imagine your surprise when you saw a familiar figure next to your car.

"Ellie? What are you doing here?"

"Hi. I came to see you. I didn't know where you lived so I came here." The girl smiled.

"Shouldn't you be at school or something?"

"Day off."

"Yeah, sure." You shook your head smiling. "I don't want to interfere. Joel probably doesn't know where you are, right?"

Ellie shuffled her shoe before answering.

"He's not my father, I can do whatever I want." She replied rebelliously.

You pulled two boxes out of the trunk and put them on the ground. The girl looked at you as if she was expecting what she might hear.

"He may not be your father, but he's the one who cares about you and can keep you safe."

"Did he give it to you too?"

You bit your lip, wondering how to answer. But you knew that only an honest answer would satisfy Ellie.

"Yeah, he did."

"So what happened?"

"These are matters for adults." You replied, but you winked at her.

That assured her that she wasn't entering dangerous territory and you wouldn't be telling her to go back to school or Joel.

"Do you need help?" she pointed to the boxes.

"Come on. At least you'll be doing something useful."

Everything was slowly getting back to normal, and that brought Joel relief. The car and Howard issue was closed, you didn't talk about it and focused on what was around you.

You might have gone out of the QZ walls a little more often, but Joel treated it more as a compensation for you. He even liked it, even though he was constantly looking over his shoulder and keeping an eye on you.

That was all he could give you, a few stolen moments outside the gray world you lived in. And you tried to take as much of it as you could.

You worked at QZ, and in your free time, together with Joel, you would sneak outside. Then you would go back to your shared apartment, make love at night, or just lie on the couch reading some old books. Sometimes you would get carried away by fantasy, like when Joel tried to convince you that he used to be a really good dancer. So you would dance cuddled in the living room while he hummed some melody that only he knew in your ear. It was soothing. His hand gently moving over your back, his voice quiet and calm. This was the life you created for yourselves.

But the end came as suddenly as an avalanche.

"Babe, are you here?"

He threw his jacket on the armchair and looked around the apartment looking for your trace. The place was quiet, but he finally saw you coming out of the bedroom.

"It took me longer today, but I got something extra. Have you eaten anything? I managed to get some fresh bread, I know how much you love it."

You didn't answer. You stood leaning against the door frame and watched him with your arms folded across your chest. A cold shiver ran down his spine. 

You knew. He could feel it.

"What did I do to you, Joel?"

Your voice was almost dead, calm and so resigned.

"Sweetie..." he began uncertainly, but he didn't know what to say.

"What did I do to you, Joel?" you repeated the question just as calmly as before. "What did I do to deserve all this?"

He walked up to you and took your face in his large, warm hands. He wanted you to snuggle into them, like always, but your body was completely unmoved.

"I met Howard's friend today. We started talking. I asked if there was a chance for a battery or a reasonably functional car." The words flowed from your lips. "He laughed. He asked... He asked me why I bothered him when my boyfriend would show up soon and give him much more to sell it to someone else. Joel..."

You said his name as if you were begging him to tell you that it wasn't true, that this was all some stupid joke. But he couldn't, you could see it in his eyes.

"How dare you, Joel? How dare you?"

Why did you have to be so calm? That was the worst part of it all. You seemed as cold and unapproachable to him as ever.

"I did it for your own good." He finally replied. "For your safety. Listen, there's nothing there. You're safe here. And you're alive."

"Who gave you the right to decide for me?" you pulled away from him in disgust.

"I care about you!"

"You care about me?!" you scoffed "First you told me beautiful stories about how we'd get out of here, and then you took it all away from me! You watched me cry, you watched how devastated I was... Fuck, you must have really enjoyed it!"

"Don't say that! You know perfectly well that I... You know that you're important to me."

You never named what was between you two. It was good, so there was no need. Besides, you knew perfectly well that Joel wasn't the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. 

His feelings were described by words like "Be careful", "Don't go there alone", "I'll go first" or "I've got your back". Or in the way he touched or looked at you. But now you were looking at a man you weren't sure you knew.

"Listen. Baby..."

"Don't call me that. That's bullshit!"

Your eyes filled with tears. A chasm appeared between you that couldn't be bridged.

"I wanted this for us." You whispered with difficulty. "I wanted us to leave this place behind. I know it's dangerous there, I know it would be hard, but we would be there together. I wanted you to find Tommy. I would go with you to the end of the world if you only asked..."

"I'm so sorry. You don't even know how much I regretted it. But I couldn't let anything happen to you, you know that."

You nodded and wiped your tear-soaked cheek with your hand.

"Yeah, I know."

Joel approached you and his hand brushed your cheek. He wanted to take you in his arms so much, to feel your warmth. He knew he would never be able to atone for what he had done. But the most important thing was for you to be safe and sound, with him.

For a brief moment he thought that everything would still work out. Joel didn't know how wrong he was.

You were already one foot out the door.

[PART 3]

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[hidden-poet]

Commander Snow: 10

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns, explicit, violence, death, sexual assault, child birth, Capitol bullies.

Editor: @hotline-to-hell

chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

chapter 9

Chapter 10

The bed you were asleep on felt like a cloud under you. 

The bedding was fresh, and smelt slightly of lavender scented washing powder. It held a  crispness that could only be given by drying in the sun. 

Pillows surrounded you, giving you a sense of security while heavy blankets nearly pinned you to the mattress from their weight. 

You slept easy despite your predicament. Only the morning sun, as it streamed through the airy curtains, woke you. Still, you don’t move. Too comfortable, and too tired to face the day. 

Coriolanus was not next to you. The large bed was only occupied by yourself. You wondered how long he had been missing, and how much longer he would stay away. 

You were in an entirely new world, only he was familiar. And even he had changed. He was President of Panem, not Commander of District 12. His hair was long, and his clothes were fashionable. He even held himself taller and talked slower. 

Still, he was what you knew. Your lifeline in an alien world. 

Would you change too? You supposed you had. 

A District girl, now wife of the President. Soon the weight of the diamond on your hand would become unrecognizable. You would get used to the strange people here. Tigris and Grandma’am would become family and not Capitol enemies. 

So quickly, your life was snatched from under you. Everything you have ever known has been replaced. Even the air felt different upon your skin. The people around you ate differently, talked differently, dressed differently. Would anything be left of you? Would you be able to keep anything of your home inside of you?

Your heart hurts to think of your mother and brother. Were you to trust Coriolanus when he said he had released them? He was likely to have had them 

released and then shot outside of the gates. How could you ensure their safety? Would he let you call them? What would it cost you?

The quiet turning of the door knob broke your train of thought. 

You wondered if it was a maid or Coriolanus but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn and look. 

You didn’t want to face either one so you closed your eyes hoping that they would leave you. 

Coriolanus did not. He gently shook your shoulder, and you rolled over from your fake sleep. 

“Good morning,” he pushes back your hair, tucking it behind your ear, “Did you sleep okay?”

You brush his hand away. Your ring scratches the skin of his hand as you do. 

“I have a doctor on standby. Are you in any pain?” 

You sit up and surprisingly find very little pain. More tightness from a muscle that had never been used before. You were quite wet already, and he was slow. Allowing you time to adjust. 

“I feel fine,” you respond, “What time is it?” 

“It’s early. I’m sorry. The sign-in is at noon, so you need to start getting dressed. Just like yesterday, some women are going to come in and help you.” 

“The same women?” You hoped not. They were so Capitol. You felt repulsed at the thought of sharing a room with them again. 

“I don’t know. Was there a problem with them yesterday?” His Commander's face was put on. A displeased stone expression that made you feel like a scolded child. 

“No.” You deny. Your eyes go to your ring that sprays out a pale rainbow from the sunlight. 

He pulls your attention back to him with a hold on your chin. 

“You’re my wife. First Lady of Panem.” 

Him calling you wife made your heart curdle. 

“You hold the power over them. If there’s an issue you need to tell me.”

“There was no issue,” you insist. 

He doesn’t push you on it.

“They will be here soon. Come outside for breakfast.”

He gives your arm a tap before rising from the bed to retrieve a warm dressing gown from the closet. 

It was soft around your body and brought a surprising amount of warmth. 

The journey to the dining room table was simple. Just past a long hallway, it opened into the living room, where to the right an elevated platform formed the dining area. 

The Snow women were not dressed as casually as you were. Fine dresses and jewels were worn for breakfast. 

You looked to Coriolanus to see he was also dressed fashionably and felt embarrassed that he had brought you out in last night's worn make-up and a dressing gown. 

The women seemed unbothered to see you. 

“Good morning, Y/N.” Tigris greeted you. 

“Good morning.” You offer back. 

Coriolanus holds out a chair for you amongst the 12 available. 

“Did you have a good time last night?” she asks. 

You looked at her and saw no vindictiveness in her eyes. It was a genuine question, offered to make you feel at ease. 

It was, in fact, the worst night of your life. But you were a stranger at her table, you would not repay her kindness with scorn. 

“Yes,” you say instead, “Did you?” 

Tigris nods her head, as she pours out coffee from a pot into the small white tea cups. 

“Bet you never saw anything like that in the Districts.” Grandma’am quipped. 

You weren’t sure if she intended for her comment to be a way of reminding you of your place, or as an encouragement to how great the Capitol could be. 

“No, I haven’t.” You agree. 

There was food displayed on the table, across a long white cover. Coriolanus picked food from and dropped it onto the gold plate in front of you. 

You had no appetite. It was all so ghastly rich. There was no need for this amount of excess. 

Coriolanus did not share your off-put. He ate his plate, while you examined the strange contents of yours. 

Grandma’am doted on her grandson. Telling stories of his younger years. He always had leadership skills, she said. His presidential future was never in any doubt. 

“Even when-” Grandma’am stopped herself, suddenly looking at and pushing her food around on the plate. 

You were eager to hear what she had to say. Even when he was sent to be a Peacekeeper? Even when he got involved with Lucy Gray? Was there something else that Coriolanus has kept hidden?

“If only your father could see you now,” she redirects, “Oh he would be so proud.” 

“We’re so proud,” Tigris states. Trying to defuse the somber mood. 

Coriolanus smiles at Tigris under her praise. 

“And you?” he asks, turning to you. 

You nod your head, unsure on what he wanted to hear. 

“Congratulations, President Snow.”  You offer. 

“It sounds right, doesn’t it?” Grandma’am squeals. 

You wait until the rest of the company has finished their breakfast between idle chatter. 

Coriolanus was on his second cup of coffee. His arm slung over the back of your chair, as he sits casually, talking to Tigris. 

He leans down to your ear, the second Tigris is occupied with Grandma’am.

“Can you eat something, please? The stylists will be here soon,” he whispers. 

 His casual demeanor returns as Tigris’s attention does. 

You follow his request, taking a bite of some sort of breakfast biscuit. It was fresh, and soft, even stone-cold. You could taste the butter in it. Real butter, not the imitation type found in the Districts. 

“I am going to miss you,” Tigris sighed. 

“We’re not staying here?” You turn to Coriolanus who had just taken another sip of his drink. 

Your stomach fills with knots thinking about a new place. You didn’t want to move. 

He swallows quickly, trying to answer you before anyone else. 

“No. We’re going to the presidential estate, but we’ll come back and visit. And you're both always welcomed at the Presidential Palace.” 

You jump as a ringing sound breaks through the air, looking around to try and see the small bell hidden in the room. 

Coriolanus’s hand comes from the back of your chair to the back of your neck. “It’s okay,” he soothes. 

He reaches for a panel of buttons built into the table and holds one in. 

“Yes?” He answers the call. 

“Mr. President, the PR team is here,” a voice spoke back. 

“Send them up.” His hand returns from you, back to the chair. 

“You don’t have long. Try to have another bite,” he commands. 

You finish the breakfast biscuit by the time the two Peacekeepers escort a whole team of people up to the penthouse. It sat heavy in your stomach. 

You see the same two women in the group. They stand side by side in ridiculous outfits. The one who had burnt you with a curling iron had a spiky, purple hat that reached tall into the sky. 

Two racks of clothing, and four big black boxes on wheels, were carted behind them. 

Coriolanus walks to the living room to greet them. They all congratulate him on his win, which he brushes off quickly to talk to the head stylist about the plan for today. They mutter between themselves, and the stylist shows Coriolanus a large book, pointing to the pictures. Coriolanus points down the hall, explaining the layout of the apartment. 

The book shuts with a heavy snap, and the stylist turns to his workers directing them to their places. 

The team split up behind Coriolanus, as he walked back over to you. 

“You’ll go back to the bedroom. I’ll use one of the spares. If there are any problems, you come and find me.” He tells you. 

You nod in response, noting that three other women follow the two women from yesterday down the hall. 

Coriolanus says goodbye to Grandma’am and Tigris, before leading you back to the bedroom where he lets you go without a word. As he closes the door behind you, the women in the room snap their attention to you. 

They all begin talking to you. Not one voice is heard but hands are felt all around you as they pull you into the bathroom. 

They bicker amongst themselves on what needs to be done first. You had many faults that needed to be fixed before the signing. Your skin wasn’t tight or dewy enough. You needed a facial, and eyelash lift. Your chipped nails were disgusting. Your hair was dull and lifeless. 

You feel vulnerable as hands dig harshly into your clothing, pulling it off your body. As you push hands away, more hands take their place. They call you difficult as you beg them to allow you to do it yourself. 

The shower is turned on too hot, you could feel the heat of it standing five feet away. 

Stripped, you notice the mess of semen still between your legs. Others notice it too and begin to giggle to themselves. Coriolanus had run a wet towel over you so you could sleep comfortably, but it wasn’t enough. 

The shower was boiling as you were pushed under it. Your skin instantly turned red. The women themselves didn’t want to get wet, standing outside of the shower screen, and pulling you by your hair to bring you closer. 

One lathers a strong-smelling liquid into your hair without much care, while another scrubs a hard brush against your skin to rid the old skin. 

It hurt as it raked across your body without soap. The woman's rings got caught in your hair as she scrubbed your head, it yanked as she pulled back. 

With a cry of pain, you are pushed back under the stream of hot water. 

You think about running to find Coriolanus, but they are here now. Another team would not be sent. He would only reprimand them, and then you would be left alone with their wrath. 

You sob instead. You should be at home. It was Wednesday. You were pretty sure. You should be at work, making idle chatter with your co-workers. 

“Wash it out!” The woman commands, “We don’t have much time.” 

Trying to appease her, you do a quick rinse under the water. 

“All of it,” she sighs. 

‘'The water’s too hot,’’ you cry. You felt like a cornered animal.

She looks at her co-workers annoyed. “Turn the water down,” she commands. 

The water is turned ice-cold but you make no further complaint. 

Another round of the strong-smelling liquid is harshly rubbed into your hair, and a nice-smelling lotion is rubbed into your skin. 

The cold water makes you shiver as you stand under it, trying to wash everything off you. 

The water is turned off leaving you standing shivering in the shower. 

“Come on” the women demanded, “hurry”. 

You go to her, and she throws a towel at you. It helps to dry the cold water off you, bringing back a little warmth. 

They watch you as you dry yourself making you feel self conscious. The attempt to cover yourself with the towel is ripped from you, and thrown to the floor. You are once again being pushed instead of asked to do something. 

You were laid flat on a table they had brought. Bare under their eye. Nothing was given so you could cover yourself. 

Five women stand above you and begin work. 

You close your eyes trying to dissociate from everything. A mask is put on your face, leaving space around your eyebrows so they can be waxed. Another oil is put on your hair and skin. 

You could hear the buzzing of the laser and feel its zap as it took the hair off your body. She scaled the length of you with the laser, paying extra attention to your most private parts. 

Only a reprimand was spoken to you as tears ran down your face. You were wasting the product with your tears. 

For a long time, you laid still against the table as they worked. Your body became sore and stiff before they told you to get up and into the bedroom.

It was there you were given back your dressing gown and placed in front of a vanity. 

The women talk amongst themselves as they work. Not one of them asks you anything. You tune them out, thinking about home. 

It felt overstimulating to have so many people working on you at once. Someone cut your hair, while the other women took one hand or one leg. They massage more oil into your skin, before shaping and painting your nails. Your ring is given a shine, and they speak about how beautiful it was. 

You feel their jealousy as they work. Your fingers were twisted into unnatural positions as they were filed. Your hair was pulled ruthlessly as it was cut. One woman stepped on your toes as she rose from the floor for some polish. 

In your head, you were at home, baking for your market stall. Your mother would keep you company in the kitchen, reading a letter from your brother. He had found someone. A nice girl, who treats him well. He wasn’t lonely anymore and had plenty to eat. Edmund was alive, and you would see him when he finished work. He would be joyed at the news that his best friend found a girl, and after dinner that night you would sit with him and draft a letter explaining your new relationship. 

It was a surprise when they all stopped to address the President. 

You turn to see Coriolanus standing in the doorway with a large mug in his hands. He had been taken from his clothes this morning and undressed into a white singlet. He had no shoes on his feet, and his dress pants still had pins in them from the tailoring. 

“It’s time for a break,” he announced. His hair appeared to be cut back, and slightly curled more. His skin glowed with treatment. 

You had never been thankful to see him until that moment. A tear slipped from your eye and you quickly wiped it away.

“Sir, we still have lots to do,” one of the stylists said. 

“Leave the room,” he commanded. 

Tools are dropped as they follow his request.

The five women pass him through the door, and he kicks it closed as the last one leaves. 

You get up from the vanities chair with a headache from all the pulling. 

“I came to check on you. Are you okay?” he says. 

The tea in his hands was a welcomed surprise. The hot shower had dehydrated you, and your crying left your throat scratchy. You take it from him and take three large gulps. 

He takes your waist into his hands once they are free from the cup. 

“Yeah,” you lie. Your voice was quiet and broken from having not spoken for a long period of time. 

The tea was hot, burning your throat as you drank it, but it was good. You broke away from his hold, going to sit on the ottoman by the bed. He followed you as you sat. 

Certain parts of your head felt like they were burning from the harsh treatment, You reached up to soothe the sore spots. Coriolanus’s hands follow yours. You knock them away, wanting nothing more than not to be touched. 

He moves onto the bed behind you, sitting with either leg by your sides. His strong fingers reach into your hair and massage your scalp. It felt nice as his fingers dug into your head so you allowed him to do it. 

You lean back into him, the hot cup burning your lap. 

“Do you want to tell me something?” he gently asks. 

His fingers press into a very sore spot on your head, causing you to wince and pull forward out of his hold. 

He doesn’t let you sit up, pulling you back by your shoulders into him. His fingers go back to your hair once more, but he rakes his nails through your hair instead of pushing in. 

He rakes his nails in a continuous backward motion, soothingly as he talks. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. That shouldn’t have hurt.” 

A gentle kiss is placed against your ear. 

“Are you alright? Do you want me to stay? I’ll stay.” He offers. 

You think about it. The women would surely be kinder with Coriolanus in the room. But you didn’t want to admit you needed him. Worse, you didn’t want to feel indebted to him. After all, it was because of him you were going through this.  

You get up from him once more, and he allows you to create distance as you go back to the vanity set. 

“Leave me alone, Coriolanus,” you demanded. 

You wipe the tears harshly away from your face, and he sits there watching you. 

A gentle knock is heard at the door. Coriolanus rises to answer it. 

“Come in,” he orders. 

The women single file in, past him. Only he stops the women who had been barking orders at everyone all day. 

You watch him in the mirror as he brings his hand down across her face.  

A gasp leaves your lips as you watch her fall to the ground from the force. 

“I entrusted her to you. If you make me regret it, I’ll make you regret it,” he warns, staring down at her with eyes that spoke of his anger. 

He steps over her and back to his room. 

“What did you say?” the woman in the purple hat hisses at you. 

“Nothing,” you admit, “I said nothing. I promise.” 

The woman who was hit gathers herself from the floor, coming over to you and pinching the skin on your arm between her long, fake nails. 

“Well say less.” she rasped. 

“It wasn’t my fault. He’s like that,” you contend, rubbing the skin she had pinched. 

“Maybe to District scum, but not to us.” 

“Your red cheek would suggest otherwise,” you sass. 

It earns you a harsh tug on your hair as it is yanked to one side.

“Just do as you are told and face forward,” she spat.

She spins you by your hair towards the mirror. No more tears fall from your eyes, but a satisfied smirk stretches across your lips. The moment had made you feel powerful. 

While their nail files dug into your skin, and your hair was gripped too tightly just to be cut, they no longer spoke. Coriolanus had scared them into silence. 

A few moments later he reappears with his own styling crew as they struggle to bring everything they need into the room. 

He sets up next to you, and under the watchful eye of Coriolanus, your stylists turn gentle. With your body done, they move to your hair and make-up. 

The large room is crowded with all the people and equipment. The head stylist tries to persuade Coriolanus back to his own room, but he would hear none of it. 

As your hair is curled and pinned into a loose bun, the iron used slipped slightly from her hands as she pinned. It burnt behind your ear, causing you to jump from the hot touch, but no sound escaped you. 

Coriolanus noticed anyway. 

“Be careful. Watch what you are doing”, he reprimanded.  

“Yes, President Snow” the woman apologizes. 

With a spray all over your hair, the woman steps back to admire her work. 

“Alright. We are fifteen minutes behind schedule. We need to get her in her dress”, the woman with the red cheek called out. 

Coriolanus was done. Only one stylist was there with him, shining his shoes. 

They lead you to the bathroom with a dress bag. 

As soon as the door was closed, one of the stylists who had remained quiet all morning began to speak. 

“Yes, President Snow,” she mocked. 

“Shut up,” the hair stylist barked. 

The dress was pulled from the bag without a wrinkle. 

It was a sweetheart, white satin, strapless gown. The bodice had pearls strung along it, and it curved up in the middle into a line of pearls. 

It was matched with a pair of white heels with pearl straps and a jacket of the same material that was only meant to go around your shoulders and not to be worn, you learned. 

The shoulders of the jacket clipped into the dress so it didn’t move.

“There,” the head woman snapped, “You’re done.” 

You quickly rushed from her presence, back out to the bedroom where Coriolanus stood alone. 

You turn back as you walk to him, expecting the woman to come from the bathroom. But they never do.

He takes you into his arms, gaining your attention from the door

“You look beautiful,” he comments. 

He did too, but you wouldn’t admit it. He wore black instead of white, but his shirt and pocket square matched the material of your dress. 

“Thank you,” you reply. 

A slight squeak of the bathroom door had you pulling back. You would hate for them to see you so cozy in his arms. But the door never opens. 

Coriolanus pulls you tight against him again, leaning down to whisper something to you. 

“Do you want me to have them killed?” He asks. 

“No,” you say, astonished that he could think of no other solution.

“It’s up to you,” he states, “Come on. We are late.” 

He leads you back to the living room where Tigris and Grandma’am stood waiting amongst the stylists packing up. 

“Give us time to settle in before you come to visit,” Coriolanus spoke to his family. He leans his tall frame down to kiss each of them. 

“Of course,” Tigris answered. After she had kissed him, she moved over to you. Wrapping her arms around your shoulder, and placing a kiss on the corner of your head. 

“We’ll see each other again soon,” she promises. 

You smile back at her before she is replaced with Grandma’am. The older woman's hug is shorter and less affectionate. 

With a final goodbye, you follow Coriolanus and a series of Peacekeepers to the elevator and down to the car park. 

A sleek black car was waiting. A driver held out the back door, and Coriolanus placed you in the car first. 

The Peacekeepers piled into a large truck. Only one sat in the front of your car with the driver.

The divider was raised so you couldn’t see them, but you could have sworn you had seen the Peacekeeper before. You wondered if Coriolanus had brought back men from District 12. 

The car ride passed through the city. You had never seen such buzz. Colors and colors flew past you. Buildings that reached the sky gleamed. Tall statues were littered across the drive. You counted seven, and a possible eighth that flew past too fast to see more than a gray figure. 

You wanted to put the window down for a better view as the tint from the window dulled some of the colors. But Coriolanus denied your request. The wind would undo the work done on your hair, and it was important that you arrived looking your best. He had promised to take you out again later with the windows down. 

When you arrived at the presidential estate, it was surrounded by supporters of Coriolanus holding banners and sticks with a picture of Coriolanus’s face attached. They waited outside of the tall gates guarded by peacekeepers. 

As the car passed them, screams and cheers deafened you. 

It got worse when you entered the gates, the screaming was matched with flashes of white light. 

Coriolanus was unbothered by it all. His focus is all on the approaching building in front of him. 

The building was grand, surrounded by meticulously kept gardens. Large Panem flags hung on flag poles on either side of the staircase that led to the entrance. A line of staff stands at the top of the staircase. All of them were dressed in expensive white material that formed around their bodies in a long coat, and pants. Gold detailing was added to the stitches and a gold pin fashioned into the Panem symbol was pinned across their chest to keep their jacket closed. 

Even the servants dressed nicer than the high society of District 12. They looked better fed too. 

The car stopped as close as it could to the stairs and Coriolanus turned to you, taking your hand in his. 

“Stay close to me. People are excited and that can cause them to act mindless.” 

The door is opened by a Peacekeeper and Coriolanus leads you along the slim path through the sea of people. 

People reach out to touch him, yelling out to gain his attention. But his mind stayed focused on the approaching building. A look of smug satisfaction and determination played across his features. You must have looked terrified as you followed him.

These people looked like animals. They frenzied around you with only a few Peacekeepers to keep them in check. 

You stay as close as you can to Coriolanus, taking the back of his shirt into your spare hand. 

The path ends as it comes to the bottom of the step. Coriolanus reaches his hand back to release you from his shirt, bringing you to stand by him as you climb the steps. 

One woman in an all-black ensemble stood out in front of the line of staff. She greeted Coriolanus as he reached her on the steps. 

“President Snow, an honor to serve you as your head of staff.”

She reached out her right hand but his right hand was latched around yours. He was hesitant to let it go.

She pauses when he doesn’t react but quickly switches out hands which Coriolanus accepts in a handshake. 

Upon realizing your importance to him, she turns to you in a curtsy. 

“And you, Mistress.” 

The crowd cheers once more for President Snow. White roses are thrown from the crowd, falling on the road and upon the bottom of the stairs. 

Peacekeepers push back against the crowd. Things were not to be thrown at the President. 

“A pleasure. Perhaps we should get inside before the crowd decides to see how close they can get.” Coriolanus suggests. 

The woman steps back, nodding her head quickly and too many times. 

“Of course. If you would follow me, I will take you to the signing.” 

The rest of the staff remain on the steps as you and Coriolanus follow the woman.

The loudness of the crowd was shut out from the big, heavy doors. It offered you two seconds of relief before taking in the vastness of the house. 

The floors were polished and matched the furniture.  A big lush thick carpet was laid out to add some warmth to the room. It was dark red and had cream accents that splayed out in intricate designs. The entryway must have been 50 feet in width and length but the red carpet covered nearly all of it. 

Both you and Coriolanus looked around in wonder. Only Coriolanus was better at hiding his amazement. He acted indifferent as the women explained the history of the house. But you could see his eyes linger on the expensive and well-decorated decor of the house. 

Staircases were everywhere, leading up and down in all different forms of design. The house was too big. It would be easy for a person to get lost but the woman led you without stumbling. 

You wonder about her. How long had she been here? Was it a choice to serve the house? 

She didn’t seem scared or upset. There were no marks upon her cream skin suggesting a lifetime of servitude. She wore make-up, and her thick, black hair was styled fashionably. But looks could be deceiving in the Capitol. 

They liked to hide behind their fine things and sharp appearances. 

She leads you into a large office. The original flag of Panem hung framed behind a large desk. The dirt and blood that had gathered on it during the war blotted the bright colors. 

Only five reporters were allowed into the room, amongst a few other important people. They all greeted Coriolanus with a firm handshake. Only one reporter was female, and she towered over the men, assisted by her six-inch heels. She looks at your ring, and you notice an absence of one on hers. 

She was too smart to get trapped by the Capitol men. 

Coriolanus thanked them for being here with his dazzling smile while you stood behind him mute, and useless. 

The women who brought you in interrupted the polite conversation between the group. 

“President Snow, it is custom to sit in the chair while signing,” she directed. 

“Yes,” Coriolanus obliged, leading you behind the large oak desk. 

You tug your hand from him as he sits. They wanted him, not you. 

A dark green plush couch with colorful cushions called out to you. You needed to sit as your legs felt like jelly. 

“President Snow, did you want the picture with or without your First Lady?” The woman reporter asked as she readied her camera. 

“With.” Coriolanus beckoned you closer but your legs would not cooperate. 

You stood until the head of staff pushed you forward. 

“Alright, dear, you stand behind your husband and don’t forget to smile. Big smile!” She commands. 

You are thankful that her hands moved you into position. The referral to Coriolanus as your husband froze you. She told you once more to smile which activated your lips into a thin smile.

“Okay, Mr. President when you’re ready,” one of the male reporters called. 

The cameras flash blinding you as Coriolanus signs his name on the parchment. 

His signature is a series of neat loops finished by a long line that curled underneath his name. 

It was official. Coriolanus Snow would now rule over Panem. With the hopes that it was over, you go to move back out of the camera frames but it only caught the attention of the journalists. 

“Mrs. Snow, how about a kiss for the President?” One of the reporters called out. The comment frenzied the rest who shouted out encouragements. 

Coriolanus turns out to you in his chair, permitting you to follow the command. 

So you do. Bending down to his height and placing a kiss on his lips. He steadies you with a hand on the side of your face so that the kiss deepens. 

The cameras liked that. You pull away, but Coriolanus' hand keeps you in place. 

His thumb brushes against the lipstick that had smudged getting rid of it before wiping his hand over his mouth. 

A make-up artist comes over to him, helping him to rid the lipstick off his face and reapplying power from a compact. 

“Okay, can we get a shot of just the President staring down the lens with the flag in the background?” The woman once more directs. 

You move quickly out of the way as the journalists kneel on the floor for the shot, and point their cameras up. 

You find comfort on the couch and watch as Coriolanus is directed for the magazine shots. 

When he is not directed to stare into a camera his eyes are on you, making sure that you are still in the room. 

A deep regret sets on your posed photos. You should have said no. Coriolanus would be too cautious to correct you in front of what constituted the entirety of Panem. You could have gotten away with it. Now your family was sure to see the photos of you happily smiling behind him. Kissing him, with a diamond ring on your finger. 

What would Edmund's family think? Your own family would think of you as a traitor. What would the family who lost everything due to you think? Edmund was keeping them afloat. How would they get by now? Would your brother take care of them as Edmund took care of his family? Would they accept the help of a traitor's brother?

Coriolanus stands from the desk in front of the reporters. 

“As you can imagine, yesterday was a long day. If you are satisfied with the photos I would like to settle in with my new wife.” 

“Of course, Mr. President,” was the resounding response. 

He comes to collect you on the couch as the head of staff briefs the people in the room on what is to happen now. 

“No one is to leave this room. Peacekeepers will come and escort you out. You and your equipment will be searched before you are released back to your firm. The President thanks you for your time and service to your country.” 

Coriolanus brings your arm to loop through his as you follow the woman back out into the vast space of the house. 

She takes you up a large, twin staircase back at the main entrance of the house, and along a corridor lined with a long carpet. At the very end came a double-door entrance that stretched from the very bottom, all the way to the top. 

This was the President's quarters. She unlocks the door with a key that was passed to Coriolanus, and swings open the doors so you can see the space. 

Another enormous space was filled with plush rugs and expensive furniture. Back home a house consisted of the bare necessities. In the Capitol, they had space for every activity and filled it with unnecessary furniture. 

A breakfast nook, a long dinner table, a sitting area, a living room, a walk-in coat closet, two full bathrooms, a tall wine fridge, and a set-up bar were all contained within the floor. A staircase that led up suggested that there was more to the living space. 

The woman asks if she can do anymore, but Coriolanus assures her there is nothing to be done but rest now. 

She shows Coriolanus a button he could push to call for a servant before bidding him goodbye. 

He was quick to shut the door behind her as you wandered into the apartment. 

“What do you think?” He asks. 

“People live like this?” You run a hand over a soft blanket draped over the couch. 

“I never have,” he admits. 

 From a war-ruined boy, to a Peacekeeper, to Commander of District 12, Coriolanus lived far from the luxury of the Capitol. 

He got nights of Capitol living when he came to visit from District 12 but his home had always been rat-infested slums. 

“It’ll feel more like home when you settle in, and make it your own.”

“It’ll never feel like home,” you remark snidely. 

Coriolanus picks up a small decorative statue and examines it. 

“Well not your home back in District 12, but your home in the Capitol.” 

He places the statue back down and holds out his hand for you to take. 

“Shall we see upstairs?” 

Upstairs was as impressive as down. Six spare bedrooms each with their own bathrooms and ready for guests, a sizable private study that conjoined to a lavish sleeping arrangement. 

You open the doors to your closet to find that it already had been filled with clothing. A pair of comfortable-looking pants and a singlet call out to you, and you ask Coriolanus if you could change. 

He gives you permission, telling you that he was going to look around the estate but he would be back soon. 

The bathroom had heated tiles which helped to keep you warm as you tried to figure out the shower. There was a pad with buttons that had too many commands to work.

You finally figure it out with pure luck and a heavy stream of water shoots out from the shower head. 

You shower off the make-up and hair spray. Some glitter that had been dusted on your skin had to be scrubbed off which left you red, and pruny from the time it took. 

Another battle to turn off the water, before you could reach for a white fluffy towel off the rack. It was warm too from the heated rack.

With Coriolanus gone, you explored the room. Everything was set up as if you already lived here. 

You find a book about the history of Panem in the bookcase and flick through it. It talked about the Dark Days. How District people were dangerous and out to ruin Capitol life. 

Large black and white pictures taken during the war were displayed in large form across the page. The Capitol during the war looked like District 12 now. 

The next page showed a photo of rebels being lined up to be shot. The page after that had a photo of a man. A general during the war. The name shocked you. 

General Crassus Snow. He looked a little like Coriolanus. Same blonde hair and blue eyes, but without the name, you wouldn’t have known.

A hero they called him. It turned out Coriolanus wasn’t lying to you when he said his father was killed in 12. You wondered how that must have felt for him, to go back there and rule over the place that left him fatherless. 

A little blurb read that Crassus Snow was known to have an excellent head for strategy and nerves of steel. With a commanding presence that rose him quickly through the military ranks before he was cowardly killed in an ambush. 

Coriolanus had followed in his father’s footsteps. The page could have been Coriolanus' autobiography. 

Your fingers trace the photo of the man standing tall in his uniform. If he was alive, you doubt he would have let Coriolanus get involved with you. But he wasn’t, and you were here, trapped in the Capitol, while he was buried somewhere in District 12. 

You continue with the book, scoffing as they skew history to fit their narrative. War was never one-sided. 

You hear him as he enters the study. The door was heavy and loud. 

Expecting him to appear, you continue flipping through the pages of the book. 

But time passes with no appearance.

You finish the book and go to find out what he is doing. 

Taking the side door, you could see his back as it faced a large painting on the far wall. You knew from school that the picture was of the past President Ravenstill.

He gazes at the portrait with his hands clasped behind his back. 

“Coriolanus?” You call. It breaks his concentration, and he unhooks himself from his rigid posture to extend his hand out to you. But he never faces away from the painting. 

You rush to accept his hand, looking up at the painting with him. There was nothing special about it. An oil painting that depicted a hateful man in a powerful position. 

But something about it captivates Coriolanus. 

“Are you alright?” you ask. His broody eyes normally meant bad things for you.

“You see this?” He bends his forehead to your level and points to a faint scar on the top corner of his head. 

“During the war, I went looking for scraps around the Presidential palace. I found a great big bucket full of half-eaten bones with meat still on them just sitting there over the fence, so I reached my hand in to try and get one. I was found by a Peacekeeper who informed me that the President said they were for his dogs and left me with a scar from the butt of his rifle.” 

He looks away from you and back to the painting. You were grateful for it. There was a darkness in his eyes that scared you. 

“Now I am the man in the palace,” he mutters. 

“I am sorry that happened to you.” 

He smiles at your words. Pity was something he wanted from no one but you. 

“You can do a lot of good, Coriolanus,” you temper with a squeeze to his hand. 

He nods his head in agreement, “I will. The Capitol will flourish under me.”

“You could do good in the Districts too. You saw the disadvantages there.”

His grip around your hand tightened, and his jaw locked in place. The painting was no longer of any interest. You now bore his intense stare. 

“I saw a bunch of animals clawing at each other to get ahead. You should be thankful that I saved you.”

“Saved me?” You questioned. 

He had not saved you from a burning building but taken you from your bed at night. 

“It wouldn’t have been long before the animals tore into you.”

The hold on your hand loosens and he takes a step back from you. 

“I’ll ring down for lunch.” He disappears from the room, leaving you in front of the painting. That night it was replaced with one of Coriolanus. The painting of him was still wet but hung proudly in the room. 

The next morning after a luxurious breakfast you went straight back to bed and stayed there until Coriolanus returned home. 

You had no idea if he locked the door on his way out, you never checked. There was nothing out there for you. No family or friends to shield you in their arms. No familiar faces, or sense of community. 

Tigris and Grandma’am visited on the weekend, wanting to be shown around. But you only knew the bed, and Coriolanus spent too many hours at the official office downstairs to know the little details of the apartment. The head of staff was called again to show the group around the property. It took nearly half an hour to explore the place. 

Grandma’am was too old to do that much walking but she wouldn’t slow down. She had dreamt about this day, longer than Coriolanus had. She held on to him as he assisted her in walking, and you held her handbag. 

They stayed for coffee and cake which delighted Coriolanus. You spoke very little, even as Tigris tried to coax a conversation out of you. The crushing weight of defeat was hindering your ability to be social. 

When they left, you got an earful from Coriolanus, who was disappointed in your behavior. All was forgiven, however, when the lights turned off and you were alone in bed with him.

The staff thought it was odd when you insisted that you would do the cleaning and cooking for yourself and Coriolanus. He took great pride in it. Feeling as if it was a testimony of your love. But in truth, your days were so much longer without it.

Sometimes there were visitors from the Academy or acquaintances from high society. Grandma’am and Tigris came over consistently but most of the time you were left completely alone. 

For a brief period, while the facilities for you to cook and clean were installed, you lived back in the Snow Penthouse. 

You enjoyed other company besides Coriolanus. One night after he was finished with you, you asked him if home could be here instead of the Presidential Palace. 

He gave a laundry list of reasons as to why that wouldn’t be possible. The Presidential Palace was safer. It was the place where the President and the First Lady were supposed to live. Besides he didn’t want Tigris, and Grandma’am around while he adjusted to married life. You knew it all boiled down to the fact he simply didn’t want to. 

—------------------

The night you return to the Presidential Palace, he comes to bed with a stack of papers.

“Look,” he leans closer to you, holding out a bit of paper that you couldn’t read under the sporadic flashes of light from the Tv. 

“My first official act as President. Schools will now provide breakfast and lunch free of charge for every school student.”

“I thought children in the Capitol never had to worry about food”. 

“Some do,” he responds, “There are poorer and richer classes in the Capitol too. Not to the extent of the Districts, but we have our own troubles in the Capitol.” 

The Capitol people, no matter how poor, were not treated like animals, and terrorized by a militant group. They were still Capitol, and thus worthy of respect. 

“And university is free for those in the top 10% of their cohort. I’ll make the announcement first thing tomorrow morning.”

“That’s wonderful” you praise, although you cared little for the new change. 

He felt as if the bill would rewind the clock. Damn the Hunger Games, and the Plinth Prize. If he could bury the mistakes of his past, they never happened. 

—----------------

Coriolanus grew desperate for a baby after his first month of presidency. He wished he had gotten you pregnant back in District 12 so he could have a baby halfway through his first term. But he didn’t dwell on the past when he could focus on the future. 

He tried desperately every night to put a baby in you, but nothing stuck.

He grew worried that time in the Districts had made you barren. After a very uncomfortable examination by a doctor who assured him that you were able to bear children, but simply have not. 

The thought of children made you feel sick. You had no idea how you would manage it on top of everything. You did not want his children, but how could you stop him? He was the one who decided your future. 

Every morning he would wait outside of the bathroom door for you to do a test. You would bring a negative result back, and his face would sag. 

His frustration was rough in form. Since election night, fun was the only objective for Coriolanus. But as his want for a child grew, teasing and pleasing you were secondary to his need. Again and again, in the same night, he would manhandle you in positions he thought were best. They left him with a sore wife and no baby to show for it. 

A doctor had suggested that extreme stress can disrupt the ovulation cycle making it difficult to plan strategic timing of sex. This had annoyed Coriolanus greatly. You went on only a few official obligations in which you stayed by Coriolanus. You were fed, clothed, and rested. There was no extreme stress in your life that would hinder you from his baby. 

You verbally agreed with his rant but laughed in private at his delusional hissy fit. 

Every night when he was finished, he would sleep thinking tomorrow he would wake with good news. 

One day he did. He was getting ready to go down to the office, waiting for you to present him with the test. 

You expect the same as before, but as you expect the test, you notice an instant difference. 

Scrambling for the box, you check the instructions. A cold shot through you as you looked back to see the indication of pregnancy. 

In hope you take another one. 

Coriolanus knocks on the door, telling you he has to leave soon. 

You don’t care, you stare at the test waiting for a negative result. 

It appeared the same as the other.

Coriolanus calls out again. On auto-pilot, you unlock the door and show him the test. He knew from your expression that it was positive but he looks anyway. 

He kisses you deeply, but you can’t move against him. You were going to be a mother. Die nursing Coriolanus’s babies. 

“A baby,” he says joyously. He brings his hand to your stomach and smiles, “A Snow.” 

He ushers you back into bed, and calls for a maid to come tend to you while he is at work. All day you only move to throw up once. 

The maid annoys you all day by asking you to do things. You just wanted to cry in bed without an audience. 

As soon as the news was announced, floods of gifts came piling into the apartment. Designer clothes, a gold crib, flowers, and chocolate were sent for you. You threw them all out. 

Every day you spend organizing and putting away presents only for more to come. 

If you had thought your life was miserable before pregnancy, your life was unbearable while you were pregnant. Coriolanus was anxious about losing the baby. 

The whole nine months at breakfast each morning a doctor checked for any complications. It made it difficult to eat which frustrated you as you woke every morning with great hunger. Only to throw it up again by mid-morning. 

You were young and healthy so the pregnancy was low risk. Due to the rations in the Districts, your iron was low, but with your meals now being made by qualified chefs and nutritionists it quickly came back up to an acceptable level. 

Coriolanus insisted that everything was a risk. Cooking over a hot stove, or bending to clean.  You came to work with him like you did at the Compound. It was then you realized that he was more worried about you self-sabotaging the pregnancy than he was about the chemicals in cleaning products. 

You grew big and uncomfortable. With the hormones raging in your body you would cry randomly during the day. One time when Tigris came to drop off the baby clothes she had made you, Coriolanus insisted she stayed for tea in the garden. 

It was a beautiful day, and you had company other than Coriolanus. It was one of your better days. But upon seeing a dead baby bird at the edge of the garden, you began to cry uncontrollably. 

You resisted Coriolanus' hold as he shouted for the bird to be taken away. The scene greatly shocked Tigres who quickly left when Coriolanus returned you to your room. 

In addition to the mood swings, your baby kicked all day long giving you little rest. It took a toll on your appearance, leaving you looking half-dead.

Everywhere you turned someone was handing you a pillow and a blanket or offering you food. You felt like the main attraction at a circus. The only good thing about the pregnancy was that no meant no.

Coriolanus was far more respectful of your boundaries. All you had to put up with was his interactions with his unborn child. He liked to speak to it in your stomach and feel it kick. On daily walks for the baby's health, he would hold the bump as he accompanied you around the grounds. He was excited to be a father but you were terrified of being a mother in an entirely different world than your own. 

Both you and Coriolanus attended parenting classes to help with the transition. Even raising babies was different in the Capitol. Mothers were not supposed to leave the house for 40 days after the birth. District women went back to work before the week was out. 

The teachers talked about safe sleeping practices in a cot, District babies slept in a basket cushioned with rags. 

Special food was designed for every stage of toddler life here. Babies back home ate what was available. 

The classes made you grateful that your child was Capitol. At least you could give them a happy, comfortable life.

Coriolanus would ensure the best for his child that you were sure of. 

—--------

Nine months passed quickly. One early morning you woke up in a great deal of pain. Coriolanus was still asleep next to you. You knew the baby was ready to come, but you were not ready for the baby. 

You try to delay the baby. The midwife said you had another week. 

A hot bath stops the pain for a little while, but the sound of running water wakes Coriolanus. You’re in the bath for thirty minutes before he rises from bed to join you.

He doesn’t knock as he enters. There was a time when you would have tried to cover up, but those days were long gone.

Coriolanus kneels by the bathtub and places a hand on your rounded stomach. 

“Kicking, is he?” Coriolanus asks. 

“Yeah. Something like that,” you state. 

“He’s just excited to be here next week.” 

As if it was a call to action, your stomach begins to contract painfully tight. You wince, trying hard to keep a sound from coming out. 

“Are you alright?” He asks with concern. 

“Yes. Can you help me out of the tub?” 

The plug is pulled by twisting a round knob to your left, and the water drains quickly. 

He helps you out of the tub gently, wrapping you in a towel and helping you walk to your wardrobe. 

All of your pregnancy clothes were loose dresses that fell down to your ankles. You picked a light blue one but as the fabric fell around your body, your stomach gave a harsh twist. It felt as if your stomach muscles were being pulled from your stomach. 

You feel Coriolanus place a hand on your back. 

“I’ll call for the doctor,” he says. 

The doctor and his nurses had been moved into the presidential palace for the pregnancy. Coriolanus wanted to be sure that if anything went wrong, a team of experts was at hand. 

“No,” you moan, “He’s just moving that’s all.” 

The next contraction had you yelling and kneeling over in pain. 

“Is he coming?” His voice carried an excitement that could only be found in a person not about to give birth. 

“To the bed,” he demands, “Come on.” 

The team is quickly called up, bringing with them scary-looking machines. Your doctor had previously explained what they did and how he would deliver the baby. But none of it mattered now. You were terrified. 

Coriolanus only left your side to get dressed. The labor was nearly fourteen hours, during which Coriolanus held your hand and waited for the contractions to get closer together. 

He tried his best to make you comfortable. Hard pillows were brought in for you so you could sit up, and he held a water bottle close, ready for you. 

As you enter the second stage of labor, the pain intensifies as your body gets ready for the push. Your fear spikes, knowing that a baby would soon be placed in your care. 

“No, no,” you mutter. This wasn’t supposed to be like this, You were supposed to be married to the love of your life, and have your mother to coach you through this. 

“You’re alright, darling. He is almost here,” Coriolanus dabbed an ice-cold rag over your forehead as he spoke. 

“No,” you state more forcibly, “I want my mother.”

“Mrs. Snow, you need to start pushing,” the doctor instructs. Your body pushes automatically, causing a painful groan to resound around the room. 

Coriolanus gives you words of encouragement but they buzz in your ear. The sound of your mother's name coming from your lips was the only thing you heard.  

“You don’t need her. Just keep going.” He soothes. 

You scream at the pain. The room felt as if it was on fire around you, but you knew it was cold outside. The world began to blur, the beeping of the machines and talk of the medical team lapped. 

You look towards the doorway as your body begins to push again. You swear you see your mother peeking in. 

“Mum!” you scream, “Mum, please, don’t leave me.”

“No, No.” Coriolanus consoles. 

“No. Coriolanus, I want my mother. Where’s my brother?” You ask in a state of panic that brings tears to your eyes. 

“Mrs. Snow, push.” The doctor bids. 

“No!” you scream back, “Not without my mum.”

“Mrs. Snow, this baby is coming. You don’t have time,” the doctor says. 

“Push,” Coriolanus tells you. 

“Please, Coriolanus, please,” you beg. All you wanted was to see her. If he didn’t want you to speak that would be fine. You just needed to see your mother as you delivered your first child.

“What have you done?” You sob, looking at his worried face. 

“I haven’t done anything,” he defends, “You need to start pushing.”

Pain ripples through your body and you push to ease it. 

Three big pushes that burn, and suddenly the pressure in your stomach is gone. 

A loud cry fills the room, in constellation with your heavy panting. 

The crying buddle is brought to you by the doctor, but you push his hands away. One peak at his light blonde hair had you feeling sick. He was supposed to have dark hair like Edmund’s. He was supposed to be Edmund’s child. 

Instead, the child was given to Coriolanus who accepted him into his arms. 

“Coriolanus, where is my mother?” You ask. 

“She’s not here. You know that,” he answers. 

Still, you scream for her to save you. 

“Commander Snow, please! Just let me see her,” you beg. 

He looks down at you puzzled, with the screaming child in his arms. 

Despite feeling as if you had been hit by a train, you attempt to rise which is discouraged by everyone in the room.

 Coriolanus steps forward to stop you, but won’t release his hands from his son. 

You feel the pressure from the nurses on your shoulder as they press you back into the mattress. 

“Sir, can I administer a sedative to calm her?” a nurse asks. 

Coriolanus nods at the nurse, and she inserts a needle into your IV drip. 

“Get off. No!” You try to tug against the IV connection, but your hands are pinned down. 

“Mum!” you shout, “Archie!” 

The sedative works fast. You soon find yourself unable to hold your head up. The fight kicked out from under you. 

You watch as Coriolanus holds tight to the small blanket. 

“Commander, please.” You mumble, but hear no response as you slip into a deep sleep.  

—-----------

When you wake it feels as if each limb has been torn from your body, and you have been hastily stitched together again. 

The room is blurred but your eyes are opened. You could feel their sting as you failed to blink. 

You had a son, you think, but where is he? Why can’t I hear him crying?

With newfound motivation you will yourself to get your bearings. 

Your muscles move at your control once more, and your eyes focus on the lamp on the table. 

As you regain control, you hear footsteps by the end of the bed. Your head rolls on the pillow to see Coriolanus as he stands over a bassinet, still for a second, before he reaches down and picks up your baby, wrapped tightly and swaddled. 

You wanted to call out and demand that he place your baby back down but you were still hazy from the drugs. You're too slow to gain back your voice. 

He sits in a nearby rocking chair with the baby tightly in his arms, beginning to rock gently as he gazes down at the small bundle. 

The baby fusses slightly but is soon soothed back to sleep. 

Seeing your baby in no harm, you try and sit up 

“Coriolanus,” you call. His eyes shoot up to watch you as you rise into a sitting position but go back to your baby as he speaks. 

“Take it easy. He’s okay,” he consoles. 

“Is he healthy?” You ask. 

Coriolanus smiles down at his son, as he rocks back and forth. 

“He’s perfect. I’ve named him, Crassus Alexander Snow, after my father.”

You hate that your son is named after the man in the book. You hate that Coriolanus has named him without your approval. Your son wasn’t a doll for him to play with. He had taken enough from you, now it felt as if he was after your son too. 

“You named him?” Your voice was hard with your displeasure. 

“I had to. The nurses needed a name. Don’t worry you can have the next one.”

The next one. Not even 24 hours after an excruciating labor, and he was talking about the next one. 

Looking around, you see that you only felt like you had just given birth. The machines, apart from your IV drip next to you, had been taken back. The bed was fresh under you, and you had been changed into comfortable pajamas.  

You lean back into the bed, silent. This was not how you pictured your first child. You wanted your mother and brother to see him.  

You picture seeing them again. Just one last time to say goodbye. 

The thought of it makes you break the silence you otherwise never would have broken. 

“Coriolanus, do you think I could write to my mother to let her know I had a child?” You ask quietly. 

He is quiet which worries you. Your mother would know when the Capitol news circulated through the District, but you were hoping to at least let her know you tried to tell her. 

“Yes, you should,” he finally spoke.

He gets up from the rocker and walks slowly towards your bed. 

“Here, do you want to hold him?” 

You open your arms for Coriolanus to place your son into. 

He fits perfectly and doesn’t wake.

You stare at him. He didn’t feel like your son. Crassus was a small baby, with light blonde hair. Not how you imagined him. 

Coriolanus lays on the bed next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders so he could bring you close. 

“Thank you,” he says, “I know how scared you were. You called for your mother. Do you remember?”

You were hoping that he wouldn’t mention it. That it could just be something that happened and then forgotten.

“Did I?” you fawn. 

You're careful to keep your eyes on your son, and not to look anywhere that could gain Coriolanus's attention. 

He captures it anyway by bringing your chin up to his height. 

“You did so well, and I am so proud of you,” he praises. He places a quick kiss on your lips before drawing his head back. 

“I love you.” He states. His eyes look at you expecting. 

“I love you too, Coriolanus.”

You never know if the letter you write is sent home. No return was ever given. 

—--------------

A week later your baby boy lay between you and Coriolanus on the bed. He was sleeping after you had just fed him. It took a while for you to feel connected to him but now a mother's bond was established, and you could watch him sleep for hours. 

Coriolanus ran his finger down the side of his baby's face and down to his little belly, rubbing soothing circles to try and help him digest the milk. 

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” Coriolanus spoke to you but kept his gaze on his child. 

“Yes,” you agree. 

You wished your mother could see your baby. To hold him as is her right as a grandmother. You had wanted to ask Coriolanus, but you knew the answer. Still, you had to ask. Maybe he would be kinder to you after birthing his child. 

“Coriolanus, I was wondering if I might be able to take him back home to see my family?”

His eyes shot up at you. The answer was more than no, it was how dare you. 

“Don’t you ever ask me that again.” he seethes. 

You held little hope that he would agree so his denial hurt less. 

“Can we video call them?” you try to compromise.

“No,” his answer was hard and cold, “Put him in his bassinet and come back.” He commanded. 

Crassus’s bassinet was only at the end of your bed. Coriolanus wanted to keep him close. 

Your baby stirs as you gently pick him up but settles back into his mother's arms. He was so milk-drunk that the normal fight to set him into his bassinet was won with a gentle rock. 

You knew you were in trouble with Coriolanus. The only time you had wished that your baby fought sleep was so you could avoid Coriolanus’ wrath. 

He holds his tongue until you are back lying next to him. 

“I don’t want you speaking about your family ever again. I don’t want our son to know that you are District. Think about them if you must, but if you continue to speak about them, I will have them killed.” 

“They are my family,” you spat. 

“We are your family. Us. Your son and your husband.”

You get up from next to him, even though you know you shouldn’t. 

“Lay back down,” he demands. 

“I’ve done everything you have asked of me,” you snivel, “Gone to every event where they look at me like a trained animal. Cooked your meals, washed your clothes. Gave you a son, just like you wanted.” 

Your voice was wobbly and raised. The hormones that were still raging through your body from birth trapped you between uncontrollable sadness and an unquenchable fury. 

“Be quiet. You’ll wake Crassus,” Coriolanus scolded. 

“I don’t care!” You yell. 

Coriolanus looks to the bassinet at the end of the bed, expecting his son to wake, crying. 

All is silent. You lower your voice as you continue speaking. If you upset Crassus all conversation would stop. 

“Crassus doesn’t have to come. I can have a one-hour phone call a month without him. He doesn’t have to know, but I can’t live like this.” 

His eyes snapped to you as he lay in the bed. “Can’t live like this? I have given you a life so terrible that you can’t bear it?”

He rises from the bed, and you take a step back. You were in a bad condition after birth. There was no way you could defend yourself against him. 

“Nothing I do for you is ever good enough for you” he exclaims. His eyes squint at you but his voice is calm and collected, “You know how dangerous it was for me to help you in 12? A Commander, and a District girl. How that looked for me in my presidential run? But I didn’t care. From the day I met you, I have looked after you. And you want me to feel in debt to you, because why? You cook the food I give you? Wash the clothes I buy? Birthed a beautiful son that you never would have had without me.” 

“You didn’t ‘take care of me’, Coriolanus. You took me. I never asked for any of it. I want to go home to my family.”

Coriolanus stood across from you, his face unmoving and hard. 

“You’re right. Family is important,” he suddenly says. His face relaxes, and body unwinded. 

He moves quickly to the end of the bed where Crassus lies. 

“Your brother had a child. A little girl, named after you,” he rocks the bassinet gently despite his threatening words. 

“You want to see her? I can bring her here,” he taunts. 

“No,” you whisper. 

“No? All this talk of family, and the answer is no?’’ 

He looks down at his sleeping baby, checking for any signs of distress. 

“I could bring them all here. They could work in the presidential estate. You’re the only one who doesn’t have to earn their keep”.

You imagine them dressed in the same white uniforms as the other servants. How much control Coriolanus would have over their lives daily. 

“That’s not what I am asking,” you state. 

“You’re asking to have your family around you, and I couldn’t agree more. Unless you don’t consider them family?” 

“Well?” he pushes after a moment of silence. 

“No.”

“Who do you consider family then?”

“You and Crasuss,” you gave the answer he wanted to hear. 

“That’s right!” He cooed, running a hand over Crassus’s head, “Just us. All you need is us.”

He straightens once more, giving his full attention back to you. 

“I am not asking you to be grateful, but I will not allow you to be thankless,” he shoves his hands in his pockets in a casual manner. 

“You should sleep as he sleeps,” he suggests. He wanted the fight to be over, and the newborn bliss to continue. 

“Lay back down, and go to sleep. No more talk of Districts.”

He leaves you in the room with your son, retreating from any further fighting. 

You wondered if it was true. Did Archie have a baby? 

Some part of you hoped it was true, and that she would fill the void of you in their lives. Just as Crassus filled the void for you. 

—-----------

With the success of Crasuss, Coriolanus was eager to have another one. You were still getting used to motherhood. You weren’t sure if you could deal with this one, let alone another one. 

Coriolanus stayed home with you for the 40 days that you were supposed to be on bed rest. He was up late with work, and then during the night with Crasuss. 

He tried to give you as much rest as he could. But Crassus needed you for feedings, and sometimes he would only settle if he was in your arms. 

Coriolanus was unversed in assessing others' needs. He would bounce Crassus when he needed to be held, change his diaper when he needed to be fed, and give him toys that were too old for him. 

He couldn’t decipher his cries like you could, leaving him frustrated. 

You knew he tried, which was more than you expected of him. 

You wake from the sound of your son crying from what feels like a two second nap. Coriolanus tried to prolong it for you by trying to soothe the baby himself. 

“He needs to be burped,” you tell Coriolanus, “Put him up on your shoulder and pat his back.”

He had only just fed so you knew it was just tummy pain. 

Coriolanus does as you say. Crassus settles as he is put upright but no burp comes. 

“It’s not working,” Coriolanus panics. Every little thing the doctor was to be called to check it out. 

“Keep going,” you encourage. 

Coriolanus sighs in relief when Crassus lets out a little burp and returns to being a happy baby. 

“You’re good at this,” he commented, “ A natural.” 

He always knew you would be, but to see it in action filled him with great joy and admiration. 

You huff in response, closing your eyes to go back to sleep. 

Coriolanus had to go back to his usual duties, leaving you with the full responsibilities of being a mother. 

It was overwhelming to have no one else to talk to but a baby. You spent your days in the apartment which drove you crazy. 

You eye the door. Coriolanus never told you to stay in the apartment. It was just an assumption you made. You knew you would never get outside of the gates, but you would settle for the gardens. 

With your baby in your arms, you cautiously twist the knob. 

There is no booby trap as you step out. No alarm rings. So you continue your journey. 

You vaguely remember the way from when you were out of the apartment with Coriolanus. 

A maid was polishing the wood of the staircase you needed to go down. You curse but try to act casual as you approach her. 

“Mrs. Snow,” the maid seemed surprised to see you, “Can I do something for you?” 

“No. I am just going to the gardens,” you justify. 

You walk quickly away from her. You hear her calling your name but you don’t stop. 

The house is large and echos as you make your way across it. The entrance out into the gardens was almost hidden. 

You wanted to run, but you were careful not to shake your baby too much. 

The big door comes into view. A sense of excitement and apprehension overcame you. You had never been outside of the Presidential quarters without Coriolanus. Now you were stepping outside. It felt as if you were gaining some independence back. 

When you open the door, you are confronted with a Peacekeeper, who stands aside out of your way. 

You thank him as you move past him, but he follows wordlessly as you cross the field. 

The maid had called the Peacekeeper on you, who called Coriolanus on you, and Coriolanus had told the Peacekeeper to keep an eye on what you were doing.

You find a spot under a tree in the lowest field, the Peacekeeper stands ten feet away to give you and your baby some privacy. 

You play with your baby in the short grass. He liked the feeling of it.

Some maids come, bringing a picnic blanket, and a glass of lemonade. 

You thank them although you wanted none of their assistance. 

Crassus has some tummy time listening to the birds. You lay back on the grass and watch the sun as it goes down. It was comforting to know that your mother and brother would be looking at the same sun. As far away as they were, at least something still connected you. 

You tell Crassus about them and he babbles back as if he was trying to talk. You tell him about Edmund in the prime of his life. You don’t discuss Edmund’s death or his father's involvement. 

You begin to explain District 12 to him just as the sun disappears behind the trees, when you hear the Peacekeeper stand to attention in greeting. You shut up immediately.

“It’s time to come inside” Coriolanus’s voice is heard. 

He picks his son up and places him on his shoulder after a quick kiss. 

You get up with the blanket and cup as you follow him back to the house. 

Coriolanus takes the items from you and gives them to the Peacekeeper in passing. 

“Look at this,” Coriolanus pulls out a small doll from his pocket,  “A senator's little girl gave it to me. She was so cute. We should try for a girl next.” 

You still had four weeks before the doctor gave you the go-ahead to engage in intercourse. But you knew Coriolanus would push the limits on that time frame. 

“I want to wait at least a year before another one,” you tell him. 

It already was so difficult, you wouldn’t survive having to care for another one. 

“No,” Coriolanus protested, “I would like a girl before the years out.”

You knew how obsessive Coriolanus could be when he had a thought trapped in his head. You also knew that nothing you said was going to change his mind. 

You wait until Crassus is asleep, and your shift with Coriolanus starts. 

He was waiting for you like he usually is. After Crassus was asleep, it was his turn to have his wife. 

He had opened a bottle of wine and was flicking through the tv channels. It surprised him when you dropped to your knees in front of him. 

Your hands reach for his trousers, and he eagerly helps you to take them off. During pregnancy he didn’t want to force you to do anything, thinking that it might harm the baby. After he was born, there was a recovery period that he had to wait through. It left Coriolanus pent up and hungry for your touch. 

Your lips were warm on him and worked so well. 

After all of your experience, you knew what Coriolanus liked. You swatted his hands off you as he tried to take control. He relents, bringing his hands to his thighs in a tight grip. 

You feel it grow in your mouth with your attention. It twitches under your tongue and you knew it as a sign he was close.

Just as he is reaching his high, you drag your lips back and off. 

He gasps as you do, throwing his head back onto the couch. 

“What are you doing?” He groans. He was irritated, which was not your desired effect. 

“Crassus turns one before another baby,” you demand. 

His hands curl into the couch as he counters, “Eight months.” 

You move to get up but his hands stop you, “Okay, okay, a year. Just finish.” He begs. 

You do finish him off, with the smug satisfaction that Coriolanus Snow is just a man. 

The day Crassus turns one, Coriolanus keeps you to your bargain. 

Coriolanus was determined to have a girl. Clothes and bows had already been brought. 

While Capitol technology allowed you to artificially change the sex of your baby, Coriolanus was more interested in conceiving the natural way. 

He researched old myths to increase his chances, and he tried all of them. 

He made you drink lemon juice before sex. He initiated sex on even days of the week. You were on a diet of fish, eggs, and vegetables. And you had to leave your legs raised for a couple of minutes after he was finished. 

You were slow to conceive like you were with Crassus. But one of the old wives' tales worked, for nearly nine months after Crassus turned one, you fell pregnant with a baby girl. 

You named her Aurora meaning dawn. A silent homage to your family back home, and the sun that connects you. 

—-------------------- 

Having children strangely settled you. You had five children in total within years of each other.  Your fifth child was your last. After you had lost too much blood during the birth of your next boy, Coriolanus put off plans to have a sixth. It scared him, seeing you so pale, laying half dead in a bed like his mother. The goal of children was to bring you closer, not to use you up. 

They gave your life purpose and little room to think about anything else but their needs. As they grew, you got more freedom to explore the city. Always under an army of guards. Coriolanus wanted them to have a full life, even if it meant granting you  access to be far from him. 

His children were not to miss out on anything the Capitol had to offer. Their names were on the top of the list for any attractions, child star concerts, and plays. The world was at their fingertips, and you got to experience Capitol life through them. 

He went when he could but his work was demanding. In his absence, a team of Peacekeepers escorted you and your kids around the Capitol. 

Despite his many faults, Coriolanus was a doting father. His children were first, sometimes before you. Where once his hold was tight around you all night, now you wake to find that one of your children had escaped their bed and taken your place. 

You always worried about his temper. He hasn’t hit you in years. You figure it was partly because you gave him little reason to, and partly because if you weren’t physically holding a child in your arms, you had one in your belly. 

But as your children grew would they be in the same danger as you if they acted out?

They all had the signature blonde hair of a Snow, but only the firstborn had Coriolanus’s blue eyes. Your other two boys and girls had your eyes. Something to tell you that they weren’t all Coriolanus. 

Date night normally consisted of an official event. They were far and few between as Coriolanus preferred you to be home with the babies. He disliked nannies but conceded to their usefulness. 

Tonight was a charity event to raise money for a new public swimming pool. Vapid and silly. At this stage, only Crassus and Aurona were born to be left crying as you tried to leave for the event. 

They were not used to being parted from you, and you were not used to being parted from them. 

“It’s okay,” you hush, “Mummy will be back soon, and she will check on you.”

Aurora was too young to know what your words meant. Her only cue that something was wrong was Crassus as he screamed. 

“No, Mummy, no!” His face was bright red from tears. You worried that he was short on breath from his screaming. 

He knew when you dressed up, you were leaving. He was four but a smart little thing.  As soon as the stylist crew arrived, his meltdown began. 

You held him as they did your hair and make-up, trying to soothe him. Coriolanus was still at work. All he needed to do was change his suit when he arrived home. 

He arrived home to chaos he could not settle. 

He stood behind you, watching as your son tried to tug off your elbow-length glove. 

“It’s alright, it’s okay. Mum will be back,” you promise. 

Aurora throws her head back, throwing her body off balance in your hold. 

The two nannies try to gain the kids' attention by holding out new toys, and calling out to them. 

“Once you leave they will settle,” one of the nannies promised. 

With teary eyes, you kiss both of your crying children, Coriolanus does the same, and Aurora is handed over. 

Crassus’s little hands claw onto your dress, he has to be picked up and yanked away by his nanny. 

You try not to let your tears fall as you walk to the car. It would ruin your make-up, and once you started to cry, you weren’t sure you would be able to stop. 

“They will be fine,” Coriolanus promises on the way to the event. 

“Why do I have to go tonight?” It was a silly thing that would survive without you. 

“Because you’re my wife. That’s why.”

Despite many years in the Capitol, events like this reminded you that you don’t belong. 

People would only talk to you in an attempt to gain an audience with Coriolanus. 

You would remain civil but not overly friendly. 

They all thought you were shy and timid as you were rarely seen, and always by Coriolanus’s side. 

Your relationship with Coriolanus had changed over the years but his overprotectiveness never dissolved.

His hand was always on you in some form. Where he went, you went. Who he talked to, you talked to. You were only an extension of him in public. At least at home, you were your own person to your kids. 

Tonight it seemed to all children. Only one person spoke to you apart from Coriolanus. 

It was a little girl, who passed you a flower in thanks. The public pool didn’t seem so silly in your eyes anymore. You bent down to talk to her, thanking her for the flower. You asked her about school and her siblings. You told her about your own children who were too young to attend a party like her. 

You were disappointed when her nanny came to collect her. She scolds the child for running away and bothering the President. 

Tucking the flower behind your ear, you blow the girl a kiss as she is carted off.

The rest of the night was dull as you acted as Coriolanus’s shadow. 

Coriolanus had just finished a speech on stage, you were walking back down the hallway to the party with him. You passed a few people running the events. They tried to talk to him, but he seemed in a rush. 

He turns off the direction of the party, and tugs you down an empty hallway. 

You ask him what he is doing as he checks the doors until he finds one that is opened and ushers you inside. It was a supply closest. Small and smelling slightly damp. 

He pushes you up against the wall, knocking over a broom and a bucket. 

“You’re such a good mother. Such a good little wife. I don’t tell you that enough,” he says. 

“Okay,” you respond, pushing back on his shoulders. 

“I love you so much.” He kisses you so hard, that your head is knocked painfully back into the cement wall. 

It reminded you of the harsh and needy kisses he used to give you as a Commander.

You feel his hands slide up your dress and grip the flesh of your butt. 

“Coriolanus, not here,” you beg. 

His lips go to your throat in slow, sexual kisses.

“I want another baby,” he requests. 

“Not here. Someone could find us.” 

“Not if you are quiet.” 

“Coryo,” You try. A bit too loud for this liking. He clamps a hand over your mouth, and shushes you with a hard look that tells you he was serious. 

“It would not look good if they found the President and First Lady fucking in a closet.”

He kneels on the floor in front of you, going under your dress and up your legs, bringing down your underwear. 

You feel him put his mouth on you, and you try to relax. It took you months to fall pregnant the last two times. This time wasn’t anything special. 

His fingers dig into the back of your thighs, keeping you close as he works. 

Soon a lapping sound is heard, and Coriolanus leaves your cunt with a kiss.

You try one more time to dissuade him. Telling him to wait until home. But he unbuckles his belt and hoists you up around his waist. 

Your arms circle his shoulders as he pins you to the wall.

You can feel how hard he is against your heat. He bucks up against your wetness in desperation before he lines himself up properly. 

You engulf him in your wetness as he thrusts his hips up into you. 

With no way to hold yourself up, you feel yourself sink and then be thrusted up into.

“Are you going to give me a baby?” He grunts.

He is fast and rough as he slams up into you. His words were heard but your mind was far from them.  

“Yeah?” He teases. His lips go to your neck again, trapping you head against the wall. 

He seemed to continuously hit the spot that you liked, no matter how you moved your hips. 

The pressure means you come too quickly. Coriolanus was nowhere close so would continue. 

You can’t help to groan as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

He reminds you to be quiet once more, and you bite his shoulder to stop the sounds you couldn’t stop coming. 

He knew you had come from the way you clenched around him. 

Taking the back of your neck, he leans you into his shoulder and wraps an arm around your waist. 

He delivers you to the floor, releasing you gently into the tight confines of the cluttered room.

“Think you can manage another one?” He asks. 

You shake your head ‘No’, your words failed you as he continued his brutal pace. 

“I think you could,” he states. 

He uses two fingers to circle your pearl as he drives into you.

The door had no lock. Anyone could open it and see you. 

You were being too loud. You knew you were. But he forced the sounds from you. Your whole body tingled under his touch, your legs shook with pleasure. 

He was not being entirely quiet himself. He grunted and shutters above you feeling his own end coming. 

You feel him twitch in your preceding his exploding into you. 

He beats you but doesn’t stop swirling his fingers, determined to have you finish again. 

You come too loudly causing Coriolanus to cover your mouth with an open palm and look to the door, expecting detection. 

His hand is pulled and with a kiss, Coriolanus pulls back on his ankles with a stupid grin. 

He uses your panties to clean up the excess cum from you before placing the underwear back on you. 

If you had any energy, you would have taken them back off but all you could do was lie there, watching him transform back into a respectable gentleman. 

“We have to get back out there before they send Peacekeepers looking for us.” 

He finishes tucking his shirt back into his pants before reaching down to help you to your feet. 

You’re a little wobbly at first but Coriolanus keeps a firm grip to keep you upright. 

You spend the rest of the fundraiser with damp panties and shaky legs which causes you to bump into Coriolanus as he stands next to you. 

The stupid grin never leaves his face, even in the car ride home. 

Your children are asleep when you arrive home. 

You leave them with a kiss, before going back to your room and rushing to beat Coriolanus to bed while he is occupied going through the messages left for him. 

He joins you in the shower but it’s quick and with the intention of going to bed. 

He talks about the night. Recalling things he enjoyed and disliked. 

He asks you what you think but you shrug. All Capitol events were the same to you. 

You finish your shower while Coriolanus washes his hair. Giving you time to dress and get into bed before him. 

You roll to your side, hoping that the supply closet tryst fulfilled him enough. 

You feel him as he moves in the bed to come over to your side, his arm wraps around your shoulder and his head rests against yours. 

“We should take the kids to the zoo tomorrow. I’ll have it cleared out.”

“Okay,” you reply, knowing that there wasn’t any other option. 

The zoo was large, and there were too many animals to see before nap time. 

Crassus got whiny and tired from all the walking and climbing on things. He demanded to be carried. Instead of using his words, he would scream when he got sick of looking at the same animal. 

Normally you would have returned home to put him down for a nap, but Coriolanus enjoyed having his son rest on his shoulder. Crassus was a mommy’s boy and very rarely wanted to be held by anyone else. 

It was not your first time at the zoo. You had taken Crassus while you were six months pregnant with Aurora. It still amazed you, however. You could spend hours just looking and learning about the animals, but Crassus was lucky to push a five hour awake period. 

It was a blessing to visit the penguins where the sound of the gentle flowing water, and cool air sent him to sleep on Coriolanus' shoulder. 

You pushed the pram that Aurora was asleep in as you and Coriolanus searched for a comfortable resting place.

Finding a canopy, you sit with your family in the shade. Coriolanus had successfully transferred Crassus from his shoulder to the bench with his head resting on his father's thigh. 

Coriolanus’s other leg went out to gently rock the pram with his expensive shoe. 

You lay back resting your eyes yourself. Crassus had woken you up from a nightmare. With him in your bed, you got very little sleep as he tossed and spread out. 

Coriolanus disturbs your peace by reaching out to place a hand on your stomach as if there was something already inside. 

“What do you think it will be?” he asks. 

“We don’t know there is anything in there.” 

Coriolanus had wanted you to take a test this morning but it was chaos trying to get the children ready for the day. 

“I don’t care what it is myself. I was thinking Marcellus for a boy, and Lillian for a girl”. 

You cry at the thought of being pregnant again. It was a horrible experience. It was uncomfortable, tiring, and you suffered great nausea all throughout the nine months. That's all before the recovery period while you run around after two other children.

“Hey,” his voice is soft and reassuring. He stops rocking the pram to reach his hand to yours. 

The hand that wasn’t captured by Coriolanus went to your mouth to quieten your blathering. You were always cautious about what the children saw.

“If it’s too much I’ll let you get a nanny to help during the day” he offers. 

You rip your hand out from under him in anger, “I don’t want a nanny.” 

You didn’t trust Capitol people to be around your children. Only when you were forced to where you parted from them. They were too young. They needed their mother. 

“You’re tired,” he pandered. His hand wraps around your shoulder to pull you down to his lap. You rest your head on his thigh like your son, and find your eyes shut by themselves. 

You feel his fingers itch your head until you are asleep. Coriolanus waits until your breath evens before returning to rock the pram with his hand. With his arm rested over his oldest child, and his hand lulling his baby girl to sleep, Coriolanus felt a swell of pride.  

His family slept under his protection and lead. Pamen had entered into a new golden age. All paths led him here. 

You woke to the sound of Aurona crying which woke and upset Crassus. 

On instinct, you shoot up from Coriolanus to retrieve your baby girl. She needed to be fed again, but Crassus was now rejecting Coriolanus’s hold, wanting to be picked up by you. 

You oblige him when his face starts to turn red from crying. You feel their tears on either side of your collarbones. Their screams rang in your ear. 

Coriolanus stretches his dead legs, slowly easing himself up to place a hand on Crassus' back.

“Let's get ice cream,” he bribes. 

Crasuss turns his head to look at his father and nods.

With a bright smile, Coriolanus claps his hands together before opening them wide, “Come to daddy?” He asks. 

You never let him get ice cream at the zoo. It was too close to nap time. So with the promise Crassus eagerly goes into his father's arms. 

At the ice cream shop you could feed Aurona but it took far longer than normal with the anxiety that you were pregnant with your third. Something told you that you were.

It was a boy. A gorgeous baby boy. Doll was your nickname for him, but Coriolanus officially names him Adrianus. He cried very little, and at six weeks old he slept through the night. He latched easily, and from 3 to 4 in the afternoon, he would laugh insatiably at everything. He was a dream child. You were very happy with him, despite his initial undesired conception. 

Life settled for a little bit as Coriolanus worked to quell a quiet rebellion brewing in the Districts. 

For a year Coriolanus was kept busy. His mind off expanding his family. 

For the moment he was happy with the three wonderful kids you had given him. Something you could share. Three young kids, five and under,  left you exhausted by the end of the day, yet when the day was over and the kids were asleep, Coriolanus demanded your attention. 

Coriolanus was not immune to jealousy even from his own kids. You had learnt to give him enough attention during the day when he was around but it only starved him off until night time. He rarely talked about work. Only upcoming events that concern you. He was more interested in you recounting every single thing the kids did. 

After having the kids hang off you all day, your least favorite thing to do was have Coriolanus all over you. But when it was his time, he followed you everywhere you went. Insisting that you sat on the couch with him for an hour. He didn’t feel like it was much, but you felt as if it was the last bit of energy zapped out of you. 

You normally got a break when Coriolanus returned home from work. He started early so normally he was home in the late afternoon. While you had lots of staff to help you with chores and cooking, you preferred to do it yourself. It gave you a routine that you could go auto-pilot on. 

From five to six every day you were in your kitchen while Coriolanus watched the children. Capitol food took some getting used to. Half of the meat you had never even seen before. Coriolanus organized cooking lessons to help you as a Mother’s Day gift. 

Dinner was often followed by free play if they weren’t too messy, allowing you time to feed Adrianus. It was important that he had your full attention as you fed as he was so quiet that you might miss a cue of his discomfort. 

Crassus sat coloring at the kitchen table while you were in the kitchen trying to feed your youngest boy, Adrianus, who had just turned one

Coriolanus sat next to his son watching as your daughter Aurora showed off her expensive ball gown that her father had brought her simply because she wanted it. ‘No’ was not in Coriolanus’s vocabulary when it came to his children. 

He held out accessories in his palm for her as she explained what they were and where they went. 

Despite ruling a country with an iron fist, at home, it was you who disciplined the children. He let them run wild, while you tried to raise them to be respectable, and moral children. Your work mostly paid off. They were good children. 

Aurora having free reign over her father and older brother, who both bent over backwards to please her, was spoiled. Her tantrums were something you were yet to stop, but she was sweet when not disappointed which was more often than not. 

She only had to cry and Coriolanus would pick her up, giving her what she wanted. It annoyed you to no end. If your marriage was equal, you would push more for him to discipline the kids, but Coriolanus only ever gave you the illusion of partnership. 

“Mummy, how did you meet Daddy?” Crassus asks out of nowhere as he draws. 

The small spoon in your hand drops to the floor as memories that you had buried spring up. The stalking, the harassment, the loss of freedom. You remember the late nights as your mother cried out from pain from the flogging that he ordered. 

“Mummy used to own a cake shop, and Daddy would go by every morning before University to buy one.” Coriolanus answered for you. He reaches out and brushes Crassus' hair lovingly. 

“Dad, you can’t have cake for breakfast!” Aurora exclaimed. 

“Oh, but I did! Your mother would make them special for me.” 

You close your eyes remembering the words, ‘Can you make me some more of those oat bars.’ A demand, not a gesture on your behalf. You remember the hard wall behind you as he pressed you there. Just the thought of it brought your heart back into your throat as if it was happening all over again.

“She doesn’t let me have cake for breakfast!” Aurora complained. Tears sprang to her eyes causing Crassus to push a lollypop you had given him for eating his dinner across the table, trying to fight off his sister's tears. 

Coriolanus picks her up from the floor and places her on his knee so she can cry into his arms. 

“Darling, these are special cakes. Ones you give to someone you want to marry.” 

You remember the cakes you used to make Edmund. Edmund, you hadn’t thought about him in years, yet the scar on your heart never healed. 

“Not growing little girls.” Still, your daughter cried, which displeased Coriolanus. 

He rises from the table with Aurora in his arms and heads into the fridge. 

“Let's see if Mum baked any for you”. 

Your youngest son begins to cry from hunger which snaps you out of your spiraling. With your daughter receiving a cupcake and your son resuming feeding, the room is calm once more. But your hand shook as your mind flooded with memories of Commander Snow. 

Moments later, Crassus presented you with a picture of two stick figures surrounded by out-of-proportion cupcakes. You stared at it with the weight of your baby resting on your hip. 

Just like that Coriolanus had rewritten history. Commander Snow was a distant dream. District 12 a vague thought. Lucy Gray no longer haunted the woods. No longer made Coriolanus Snow the victor of the 10th Hunger Games. The war scar had faded. He had fixed history’s mistakes. 

He had taken his rightful place as President of Pamen. Only you were left to remember him as Commander Snow. 

The end!

Thank you all for reading, and coming along for the journey. Especially to those who commented and motivated me to write. This story would not have been complete without you.

A HUGE thank you to @hotline-to-hell for editing the work, and restructuring the mess.

And a HUGE thank you to @thaleleah and (who i assume is the same) anon who took the time out to encourage me with their long, and hilarious feedback.

Hope to see you all in my other works!

taglist:

@sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw

@mrsjobarnes

@greekyoghurtwithberries

@namelesslosers

@urfavnoirette

 @aleemendoza2425-blog

@hiatuswhore

@jacesvelaryons

@swimmjacket

@brooks-lin

@dawnissunnysideup

@astarborntowrite

@someonefromwutheringheights

@purriteen

@homopheli

@devils-blackrose

@poppyflower-22

@bruher

@dawnissunnysideup

@winter-bearv 

@tempt-ress

@serinatly100986

@becauseseaotters

@aleemendoza2425-blog

@inloveallthetime

@hufflepuffxsworld

@chennyetomlinson

@slumnit

@saharadesertaj

@missbeeentertainment

[veren-cos]

Bachelors (sdv) x reader on their period

Gender neutral, but purely because of the prompt, afab reader. I'd say everything I write is gender neutral besides the very rare Trans masc reader ☆

Not proofread and I wrote this in like 25 min- I'll update this when I'm less tired.

Harvey

• A literal doctor.

• Is not weirded out like at all. He is all like, "Oh okay! Do you need anything at all?" And moved on with life

• Maybe has a little blush when you first talk about it? It's a completely normal thing at work (and in life), but it's just because it's you that he wants to make sure he handles it well.

• Would probably get you chocolate. And a heating pad. And blankets. And all the things.

• Aka would just spoil you a bit more than normal, periods suck and he knows-

• If you had any like disorder involving you Period he would be extra on top of stuff.

• Will make sure you are well stocked on and properly take pain meds!

Elliott

• Would just absolutely spoil you!

• Runs a bath, gets chocolate, threw your pajamas in the dryer to get them extra warm, heating pad.

• Might give you a massage if they are super painful? Probably would do it regardless but he would definitely offer if he knew that got bad.

• Idk why he knows so much, maybe it's because of Leah? I don't really write about the bachelotettes, but I feel like she would be super open about it so that's why Elliott knows a lot.

• But yeah he'd be super good to you! Would make you food just because. He is great at spoiling people, but not actually great at knowing what to do physically haha. (I think I mentioned in a previous fic where he just makes you soup if your in pain, he would do that here too)

Shane

• So if I just take Shane as a standalone character I don't think he'd know a lot / want to know/ care.

• But!

• Jas. I'm not sure what age she is supposed to be (literally anywhere from 7-12 imo) but I feel like Shane would have read up on Period stuff in preparation.

• So he would actually be more informed than Elliott!

• Now onto the actual stuff lol-

• He wouldn't be super pamper-y like Elliott and Harvey, but he would definitely help around the house more.

• Animals are all taken care of, crops are all watered, took care of some weeds, etc.

• He would also probably be a bit more physically affectionate purely because he knows you like it.

• Might be a bit embarrassed about it at first but after the first one he gets the gist of what to do.

Alex

• Would be relatively informed just because he is a health nut, but also doesn't know what to do because the most important woman in his life is postmenopausal-

• Probably would just give you chocolate and hugs because he knows like. Emotional and cravings.

• If they were super bad he would ask his grandma for help!

• Wouldn't be embarrassed about it! Once again. Health nut. Gets you pain meds!

Sebastian

• Okay. So. Sebastian.

• Literally lives with 2 ladies. Both very strong confident women. He wouldn't be uninformed by any means, but he probably is still awkward around the topic lmao

• Like if you were complaining he would be like "...." "am I supposed to do something about that?"

• AND HE DIDNT MEAN IT IN A RUDE WAY he was genuinely asking. But he just doesn't know and also is an awkward guy?

• Would do the least out of all the Bachelor's. Maybe just be more emotionally available because Period mood swings be rough. Makes more time to talk about things with you.

• Grabs you ibuprofen or Tylenol, whatever you have in the house.

Sam

• So Sam lives with a kind of coddling mom, does not have sisters, so like. His mom wouldn't talk to him about it. He has no 'personal' experience with it.

• Would be the most clueless-

• But he would definitely be like, "oh babe that sucks let me know what I can do"

• Gives you more cuddles, helps on the farm.

• Super enthusiastic about making you comfortable! He makes it into a way bigger deal than it is but he is genuinely curious about stuff so you think it's cute.

• After your first one when your together he is much better prepared / informed so he isn't all over the place.

• Just very cute and well meaning.

An* I hope this was at least a little cute / silly / comforting / whateveryouwantedoutofthis! I base everything off of personal experience because, like, it's all I got- but more people should be comfortable talking about this! It's completely normal and just a basic human function. So if yours is different than what others describe, that's okay! If yours is exactly the same, also okay! Idk where I'm going with this, but there is no shame in having a period, and that's on that!

This also came off way more dramatic than I meant it to be, but I live for the drama so it's okay (this applies to both the fic and the author's note-)

Masterlist

[pouringmyheartoutforpaper]

this is for the girlies (or anyone) that sometimes forget to eat or drink for a while until they feel really sick, and need a personal stevie to force feed them sandwiches.

robin and eds had just left steve’s house, leaving you both there alone. and once you told them goodbye you were hit with a wave of nausea, along with a crippling headache. you staggered into steves kitchen whilst he was cleaning up the board game in the living room and leaned over the sink. trying to breathe deeply in the hopes it would make you feel less like you were going to pass out. steve came in, and was going to pick you up and spin you in his arms when he saw your position.

“baby, whats wrong? you okay? what happened?” he asked, worry lacing his voice.

you turn around to answer him, but you don’t feel like you are able to form words. thankfully, steve can tell enough by how pale you look, like all the color has drained from your body.

“jesus christ baby, woah, sit-sit down” he said, picking you up and placing you onto the kitchen island.

your head felt heavier now, and you slumped over onto his shoulder. he attempted to ask you more questions, to which he only received a whimper from you. he needed to get you water but he couldn’t leave you unsupported, so he carried you into the living room and lowered you onto the couch.

“ill be right back, babydoll.” he said, mostly to himself before he performed the quickest water-run known to man. coming back and propping you up slightly and putting the straw you your lips, “drink.”

you did as you were told, and after sucking on the straw and lazily staring at him until the entire glass was empty, you took a deep breath.

“what the hell was that, baby? what happened?” he asked softly.

“i dunno, jus’ don’ feel good” you replied.

“yeah? what have you eaten today?” he asked.

you stared at him as you recalled your day. and slowly he watched your eyes turn from contemplation to guilt.

“baby,” he warned, “what have you eaten today.”

you sunk into the sofa behind you.

“i forgot, stevie.” you frowned at him, and he sighed.

“have you had any water?”

“you just gave me some!”

“i mean before that, doofus.”

you shook your head no, pouting moodily at him and lying back onto the couch. you felt tears well up in your eyes, everything seemed to be much bigger than it was. you were very embarrassed; and in your hungry, dehydrated brain, steve was very disappointed in you, and could not believe his girlfriend was so stupid as to forget to eat or drink. this was obviously very much not the case, and steve did not think that about you. as the flood came, you attempted to hide it, but he tool your hands and began soothing you instantly.

“hey, hey, look, its okay. you’re okay. shh.” he brushed the sweaty hair out of your face, “need you to lie down while I get you somethin’ to eat, okay? youre probably tired too, honey.”

you nodded tearily, and let him lie you back down. he went into the kitchen and made you a nice toasted sandwich just the way you like it, with a glass of water and a coke. he came back and sat next to you, giving you the food and setting the drinks onto the coffee table. you ate quickly, and were more than halfway through your sandwich when you looked up at him and realized how much better you felt. he raised his eyebrows at you, and you giggled.

“you feel better?” he asked. which only reduced you into a fit of more giggles. he shook his head and pulled you into his lap, whispering into your ear, “you drive me crazy, lady.” he laughed. “your hangry-ness needs to be psychologically evaluated.”

you stuck your tongue out at him and finished your meal before turning back around to him and wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your noses together.

“i’m sorry, thank you stevie.” you said, and kissed him softly.

“it’s okay lovey,” he took your hand into his, “no big deal, just gotta remember to eat, goofball.” he replied.

“why’d i do that when i have a perfectly good personal chef and doctor here?” you said, receiving an eye roll.

“alright sleeping beauty, lets get you a nap. and then all your needs will be full.” he said, taking your hand and guiding you into hie bedroom.

“well… not all of them.”

you received yet another eye roll, but this time it was accompanied by a deep scarlet blush.

[olderthannetfic]

I feel like such a hypocrite reblogging all these posts about how people like male characters more than female ones even if they have similar personalities/roles/wtv, but I read about this stuff precisely because I relate to it. "People think everything men do is cool and everything women do is either weak or Mary Sue" -- yes, it's me, I'm people. It's not like I do it deliberately or I'm proud of it, but I can observe and acknowledge the empirical fact that female characters just produce a very different emotional reaction in me than male ones.

I guess I like the safe distance of projecting onto characters who 1. are more obviously not me and 2. are judged less harshly than me (bc everything men do is cool) and that's not my fault, it's the patriarchy's, but then I can't challenge it. I can't say "women can be just as cool and we shouldn't be judged more harshly", I can only say "yea women suck let me forget I am one" like I'm still in my 9gag nlog tween phase -- or well, I can *say* the former, but I keep *acting and feeling* like the latter. And btw I'm not just talking about consuming media, where all you can choose from is what's on offer; I'm also talking about creating my own fanfics, which are all about men.

--

The reason a lot of those posts are so obnoxious is that they're just people wallowing in guilt and projecting.

The fact is, lots of people do like female characters. There's plenty of fiction about women. There's plenty of fic about women. There is not, in fact, some grand, existential problem where nobody cares about the ladies. If you aren't seeing this fic or original media, that's different from it not existing.

Two, your own fanfics? FFS. If you consume media that is a sausagefest, then of fucking course, your fic will be about dudes.

Just the other day, I spotted a story I hadn't read by a fantastic fantasy novelist. I hadn't looked her up much beyond buying her trilogy, and what do you know: she actually says who she is in fandom openly!

I was entertained to find out that her big thing is kylux. You really wouldn't guess based on her pro work, which is about a harried female doctor taking care of supernatural patients. I remember those books being a refreshing change from my usual diet of nothing but slash fic. It's not just that there's a female lead but that they take a nuanced look at female characters.

Personally, as a writer, I wasn't ready to write much about women until I was better at writing overall, and my more self inserty characters aren't usually going to be women anyway unless they're like Julia from the Hilary Tamar series.

--

If you're uncomfortable with yourself, you can try to change, sure.

But fandom is full of this obnoxious plague where people think that it's the job of each person to make there be more female characters. This isn't necessary. Even if we want media or fic to be more balanced overall, it doesn't follow that each person needs to produce a balanced body of work.

Why should you in particular care about female characters?

--

But beyond all that, oh my fucking lord, I am so tired of that species of post that's like "Gosh, why is slash fandom, where people go to be horny over dudes and/or have self inserty feelings about them, not more full of stuff about ladies? It's so tragic how we all want to get rid of our boobs and wear men's clothing and be addressed as sir, just like all the other girls. What's up with that? It must be misogyny."

With a totally straight face.

Every god damn time.

[phoneuserhana333]

.°˖✧ neighbor!doctor!abby / neighbor!producer!reader headcanons .°˖✧

tags: enemies to friends to lovers, cocky!yn/annoyed!abby, mutual pining, dumb lesbians, unresolved tension, more to be added.

PART2 — PART3 — NSFWHC — N(SFW)HC

• after finishing med school, abby got a job at her dad’s private clinic outside of new york, which she quit after working there for a year

• during college, she was a victim of horrible gossip; everybody thought that she had it easy because of her dad being one of the best doctors in new york (to be fair, she was more privileged than other students because of this, but she would never admit it)

• and because of the desire to prove herself, she quit her “safe” job to go to work at the ER in the city to prove that she isn’t just somebody’s spoiled daughter who happened to be in the medical field

• she moved out closer to manhattan because of her new job, renting out a small brick red townhouse in a row of other copy-pasted houses, filling the shelves with books and the kitchen with spices. it was truly her home, which was something she took pride in.

• abby’s first interaction with her neighborhood critters went stellar; she met margaret, an old lady who lived across the street with her tortoiseshell cats clara and mima. margaret and abby grew close and she would go over to her house to have tea every saturday.

• abby’s second interaction with her neighbors however… didn’t go that as well as she thought it would

• she had some sense of what her next door neighbor was like- or at least she thought she did

• music would be blasting every night, approximately from 9pm to 6am- when she left for work. abby concluded that her neighbor was either a musician, a nepotism baby (pot calling the kettle black) or just insane.

• some days, her neighbor would be playing piano, guitar or banging on drums. on tuesdays, abby could hear her sing (“she’s screeching like a banshee manny, it’s like- 2:35am! wha- no, she doesn’t sound good, you’re just hearing things!”, she would complain to her friends) and on fridays, her mysterious musician neighbor held parties

• abby tired to be patient, but her abundant patience lasted her maybe one and a half month, before she found herself banging on her neighbor’s front door, dressed in a muscle tee with her hair falling out of her fishtail braid

• abby looked at her watch- 1244 steps, 4:22am, friday. she groaned and rubbed her face, realizing that she was about to meet her (probably very drunk) noisy neighbor, but to abby’s surprise- the door didn’t open

• she could hear the music turn down and a few girlish giggles behind the door, confusing her further

• right as the blonde started knocking again, the lights turned off and she could hear a familiar voice yell- “nobody’s home! go away!”, followed by muffled laughter

• this pushed abby over the edge- countless nights of sleeplessness, an irregular meal schedule and long day shifts at the ER finally caught up to her, and her annoying neighbor was about to be on the receiving end of her wraith

• “you’re troublesome, you know that?! always being so loud during the night, while some of us have work in the morning! get out here right fucking now and turn that god-awful music down!”

• abby let out a shaky, frustrated breath, suddenly being met with a tense silence, she took a step away from the door, thinking she finally got her neighbor to quiet down for once, before she hear that same agitating voice retort-

• “… whatever, grandma!”, followed by the music turning back on, laughter and chatter continuing into the night.

• by this point, abby’s chest and face were cherry red and she was stomping back to her house, trying to ignore the pang of embarrassment and frustration in her belly

• dr. anderson fell asleep with her earbuds in and woke up with a horrendous headache, only to have to get ready for her 7am shift at the hospital

• soon enough, abby was locking the door to her townhouse, double checking the contents of her lunch bag and briefcase (a gift from her dad, duh), when she noticed it, noticed her

• dressed in a kitsch black coat with fluffy white fur around the sleeves, donning gloves and a matching baby blue scarf in the middle of god forsaken october, was her favorite next door neighbor, blissfully unaware of the death stare she was receiving

• abby felt her eye twitch when she noticed her bare legs leaning against the railing that lead to her front door- the irony

• “hey! you!” abby made her way over to her neighbor’s staircase, nearly tripping over her bags and coat, before she stopped at the bottom, staring up at her with tired bloodshot eyes and a red, scrunched up face

• “um… hi? do i know you?”

• “don’t act all sweet now, you need to be put in your place. what the hell is wrong with you-“

• on the other hand, you lazily smiled, and continued staring at her. must be my lucky day, you thought, eyeing abby’s buff body and biting your lower lip, eyes sticking to her arms which were flailing around as she yelled at you for- oh, she’s the woman from last night!

• “y’know, you could’ve just joined us, right? i don’t bite”, you replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

• abby, who despite being caught off guard by your borderline flirty statement, was about to keep going off on you, suddenly got interrupted by her apple watch alarm, warning her that she’ll be late for work

• she looked back at you with storms in her eyes, her glare making you straighten up and cross your arms defensively; your neighbor wasn’t only hot, but also intimidating

• “i do. this isn’t over, you better be home later. we need to talk.”, and with that abby walked away, leaving you with the sight of her towering form disappearing in the streets of new york, prompting you to dramatically fan yourself as your body heated up from the sight

• oh, you were definitely feeling inspired now.

[pablitogavii]

I NEED A NEW POST ASAP 😭😭😭😭

Coming your way! <333

Good News

It was a grueling couple of months for Pablo. You made sure to be besides him through all of it and show your support.

Oftentimes you couldn't do much about the pain but after the long physicals you would cuddle him and play with his hair while he sleeps on your chest.

You also tried to talk to him through more depressive steps where he would watch his old videos with teammates and reminisce of the times he played for Barça.

"I want to go back amor ... I'm lost without them ... and so tired" one night he cried after a very intnse physical feeling his whole body trembling from how much pain he had to push through.

"I know, cariño ...and you will just rest now" you reassured him while he kept swiping through pictures enjoying your hands in his hair.

Today was a talk with his doctors who will give him an approximate return date and Pablo was so nervous about it. It was scheduled for ten in the morning but he was already up at five twisting and turning in bed until you woke up as well.

"Pablo, it's not even morning ...go back to bed cariño porfa" I said and he pulled you closer starting to kiss all over your face not letting you sleep.

"I can't sleep amor ... I'm so anxious!!!" he whined and you giggled opening your eyes and pulling him into a kiss.

"Want me to make some breakfast then?" you ask and he holds you tight not letting you move away from him.

"I want you here with me ... just tell me everything will be fine porfa" he said twirling a piece of your hair around his fingers.

"Of course everything will be fine cariño ... you're recovering nicely and I'm sure it won't be too long until you return to the pitch" you said and he smiled praying to God you were right.

"Thank you, princesa ... what would have I done without you?" he said and you giggled kissing him.

"You wouldn't have anyone to torture at five in the morning!" you said and you both laughed while enjoying your time in bed.

When it was time to leave, Pablo's dad noticed his son's nervousness as he opened his car door.

"Did he sleep at all?" he asked you and you smiled saying he was just a bit anxious but will be better after the meet. You sat besides him holding his hand the whole ride.

Once arrived at the camp, there was a crowd all yelling "good luck Gavi!" while he nodded holding your hand tightly and limping inside carefully. There all his friends waited and gave him a reassuring hug before we were invite into the office with the doctors.

"Let's not crowd the room" the doctor said and you offered staying out but Gavi wouldn't let go of your hand now really starting to panic.

"Can she come inside with me, doctor?" he asked adorably and the older man smiled nodding his head and letting us both in followed by his father.

"First, I want you to know these are good news so don't be nervous" he started and Pablo finally relaxed. The doctor explained that his recovery is moving better than expected and that he will be ready for preseason maybe even earlier.

"So I might play Euros too?" Pablo was already ready to jump back in but doctor told him that would be a cardinal mistake.

"Cariño, remember we need to be patient" you say touching his cheek and he nods still a little disappointed but knowing this was all a blessing.

'You just keep listening to your lovely lady, and you will be back in no time kid" his dad says and Pablo kissed the top of your head lovingly while you smiled with red cheeks.

"I couldn't of done it without her ..." he said and everyone smiled at the two of you while you rested your head on his shoulder thanking God for there good news <333

y.n.bebe

Barcelona, Spain

From being his biggest fan to being his girlfriend ... my champion is coming back in June and I am thanking God for such a blessing every day. Love you, cariño ❤️❤️❤️

comentarios:

pablogavi: i love you mi amor!!!❤️❤️❤️

pedri: welcome back brother!

ansufati: the best!!!

fcbarcelona: waiting for you with open arms gavi❤️

aurorapezg: her love healed him❤️

gavisfans: love them together! come back strong champion

I'm so happy to hear he's coming back stronger! ❤️❤️❤️

[purplelupins]

Salvador

|Better Call Saul|

Part I Part II

Lalo Salamanca/Fem!reader

Word count: 16k

Summery: Reader just wanted a fresh start, but when she starts working in a care home, it seemed that she bit off more than she could chew when she meets a member of her clients family.

Warnings: slow burn, age gap, manipulation, intimidation, violence (see note), smut (p in v), fingering, degradation and praise, edging, pet names (niña, niñita, princesita, Cariño, Ratoncito) Spanish (have a translator ready), papi kink, Lalo kinda comes with his own warnings, I’m not an electrician or doctor

MINORS DNI I AM NOT GOING TO ASK AGAIN

Notes: this part contains detailed violence (domestic violence, gun shots, talking about death), and smut.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Lalo sat in his car watching that laundry facility like it was a ticking time bomb. Indeed it was his time bomb and he would be there when it went off. It was only a matter of time before he confirmed his theory. He knew that crisp Mr. Fring was hiding something fantastical behind his trustworthy, efficient methods. And when that moment came, and the bomb exploded…Lalo would bask in the heat of its flames on his cheeks-

The obnoxious ringing of his phone snapped his focus in half. The little screen sat illuminated as it continued on its insistent noise. Lalo stared at it, and was about yo snap it shut, and fling it into the back seat until he saw the number; his eye twitched.

He knew exactly who it was.

They hadn’t called him during watch hours for months.

The older man calmly answered it, and held it to his ear, and waited.

It wasn’t a full minute that had passed when Lalo hung up the phone, and was peeling out of his watchpoint fast enough to leave two black tire marks.

There was no doubt that he could have simply told his uncle’s men to deal with it; to dismiss whatever was transpiring and move on, not caring if you were alright or what you were going through.

Then he could have moved on with monitoring the facility.

Easy.

But there was something that ignited inside Lalo when his tio’s guy recounted what had happened. He knew he shouldn’t give a rats ass about going there himself- that was why he had those men there. Lalo could feel that awareness eat at him as he sped through the city, but he crushed it down. There were very few thoughts in his head as he drove, and questioning why he was doing what he was doing, and psychoanalyzing himself was not one of them. He never questioned himself, not really; he just…did.

Lalo pulled in outside your shitty building, and didn’t wait for the men to speak as they joined him on the sidewalk. He took a look up at your window, and felt his left hand twitch when he saw the dim light.

“No entres hasta que yo te lo diga, ¿entendido?” He rumbled, not taking his eyes off the window as he turned and began striding up to the building. The men stayed behind, just as he said. Lalo reached into the back of his jeans with one hand and into his pock with the other, pulling out his pistol and silencer. The metal pieces rolled together easily in his hands; just as seamlessly as he hid his gun, and smiled charmingly at an old lady as she held the door open for him as she took her little dog out for a pee. It was so dark she didn’t see how dead his eyes were. How his soul was leaving them with each passing second.

Lalo began planning his next few moves depending on what was occurring inside your apartment. Were you a plant from another cartel and this was your handler? Were you law enforcement undercover? The older man simultaneously thought over each possibility.

He took the flight of stairs up to your floor, and quieted his footsteps as soon as his eyes fell upon your door. Lalo had stood there once before weeks ago, gun in hand just as it was now…but he had left after just a moment. Killing you wasn’t worth it.

Once he was outside your apartment, he leaned in, and listened.

There was a raised voice inside. An angry one at that too. And a cry.

Lalo didn’t dwell on what it was saying or who it might be; he raised his foot and kicked right next to the lock on the door. It burst open. The older man took three strides inside as the door bounced off the wall as he surveyed and took in the scene before him. His eyes flicked from detail to detail rapidly, piecing everything together in seconds.

The lamp you used was kicked over and partially broken- only the lightbulb was intact, and partially at that. In the low light, he could still see that you were curled up against a wall; broken objects, scuff marks and blood around you and behind you. You were sobbing…shaking. Your hands were over head, arms in front of your knees…bruised and bloody.

There was indeed a man there, just as Hector’s men had said. He was standing over you with his back to the door, words spewing from his mouth at you. His shadow ate your little form up.

The man had begun to turn towards Lalo as he walked into the apartment, but his fate was sealed as soon as Lalo saw his bloody knuckles.

Your blood.

Lalo didn’t stop to ask any questions or make a snark comment before he emptied his gun’s clip into the man’s body. The bullets shredded his flesh, spattering blood as the metal existed his back. Lalo didn’t lower his gun until the man began to crumble to the floor, and he watched despondently as blood started pooling around him. It began to fill each little crack and groove in the wooden floor.

There was a beat of silence following the last shot before Lalo pulled his phone from his pocket.

It only rang once.

“Hecho.” He muttered, then hung up.

Then as he slipped his phone back into his pocket…he saw you.

Actually saw you.

Lalo let his gaze wander over your shaking form. You resembled more of a stray animal than a young woman covered in blood. Your knuckles were white from how tightly your were holding your head. He watched the man’s blood that had spattered onto you mix with your own from the wounds he had inflicted. Then, once the noise faded away, and there was no movement, you began to unfurl. Your arms came down jerkily, and you tentatively rose your head up to see what had happened; you eyes were wide, and puffy. Cheeks flushed against your blanched skin.

His hand twitched.

Your dazed eyes slowly refocused. It took a moment before you followed the edge of the pool of blood to the body now laying on the floor; limp and cold. Lalo could visibly see the scene in front of you settle in your mind while you unclamped your legs from your chest. You slowly got to your knees, eyes still trained on the body, and sat there. The older man didn’t move an inch as he watched you; he was fascinated. He realized this must have been your first time seeing a dead body.

He felt honoured.

You didn’t cry, or scream, or cower in fear. You just looked.

It was as if you were in a trance as you finally rose to your feet; your eyes void of any emotion, mouth in a plain line. Indifferent. Analytical.

Lalo might have been a man of many words, but as you took a few difficult steps towards the body, the older man chose to observe you silently.

For the first time since your door had been slammed in your face that evening, your eyes weren’t hazy. You walked to the edge of the pool of blood, and stared down at the body. He looked so human…so much less of a devil than he had when he was alive. This man who had been nothing but a living nightmare for you was…gone. In a matter of three seconds, he was completely gone.

You didn’t know how he had found you… or why. You tried to remember the moment you had first seen him, but he had some so much damage to you over your relationship that you couldn’t recall your first date. Couldn’t recall a lot in fact.

You took another step forward and stood in the blood of your ex-boyfriend. Then as the warm liquid slipped between your toes, something in you completely snapped. Broke.

You were flooded with the first memory you had of blood. You had scraped you knee and someone kissed it better…told you it would be alright and to keep playing. You remembered how smiling used to be so easy and not an invitation for people to think you were soft or easy. You remembered that girl who grew up and saw the best in people. Who had her likes and dislikes and didn’t base her personality on whatever someone wanted to see. You remembered her. And you remembered how he erased her. How he told her that he would keep her safe, but he betrayed that trust at every turn with a perfect lie or justification to draw her back in.

The blood surrounded your feet. Your eyes slowly sharpened, and without another thought, you rose your leg up and delivered a form kick to your ex’s limp side, shoving him a foot across the floor.

He looked so small now…so insignificant…and you felt the fear you had of him melt away, and hate take its place. Resentment, frustration, sadness…it all flooded in.

So you kicked him again.

You still hadn’t fully registered Lalo’s presence, and he was content with staying a part of the background as you began to show him this hidden part of you. Vicious. Vindictive. The parts of him that only the very unlucky saw- it was spectacular to see them mirrored back to him.

You were ruthless.

You kicked the body again, and again and again until he was shoved a few feet from where he had fallen, and there was a streak of blood in his wake. Tears began to stream down your cheeks and your skin felt as if it was burning. It was overwhelming as you beat him with every bit of energy you had left.

A pressure began to build in your chest, and you half wondered if you were going to throw up or pass out from how much you were feeling all at once, but then words formed on your tongue and you let them out.

“You SON OF A BITCH, YOU FUCKING RUINED ME.” Your broken cry filled the apartment, and Lalo’s eye twitched slightly at your raised voice. You were letting go. You were in a frenzy; overtaken by everything you never let yourself say or feel, “I don’t even know WHO THE FUCK I AM ANYMORE! YOU’RE BETTER DEAD YOU ROTTING FUCKER-“ you kicked and stomped and kicked again and again, even when your feet hurt. A snap sounded through the apartment but you were too far gone to realize it was his ribs snapping and caving in.

Blind rage had overtaken you. You couldn’t think as you continued your assault.

You didn’t see Lalo move- too focused on the body under you to notice him until a pair of strong hands grabbed your shoulders and pulled you away from the body- bloody footprints on the floor from where you staggered back.

“Okay, I think you got him.” Lalo laughed as he hauled you away.

But your adrenaline was still raging through in you. Regardless of his thick arms locked around you, you started squirming in his hold. Anger fuelled you and you fought to try and get back to the body. Needing to hurt him as much as he hurt you, but Lalo secured his arms around you better, and hoisted you away from your living room and into your small kitchen.

But still, you couldn’t think. All you knew was that someone was stopping you from getting back at the person who had destroyed you. It didn’t matter that it was Lalo Salamanca who was doing it, you didn’t even know it was him; he was just arms and a voice and you needed him to let you go.

Without thinking, you spun in his tight hold and hit him.

A smack right on his cheek.

Then all at once, you saw him.

The sting on the palm of your hand seemed to wake you up, and as Lalo dropped his arms to his sides, you saw exactly who had fired that gun…who had picked you up…who you had hit.

His grey curl hung over his forehead, and his mouth sat in a line under his neat moustache.

You might have been horribly startled by his stony face…but it was his eyes that made you keep from asking for forgiveness.

They were black, and they glittered in the low light.

But they weren’t furious.

There was a moment of silence that stretched for far longer that you knew how to measure; he was processing you. You and the smack.

“Again.”

You blinked, having not been sure if you had heard him correctly or if he had even spoken or if you had imagined it all. And evidently you weren’t functioning fast enough for Lalo’s liking.

The older man broke into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes as he stared you down, “Okay, how about I put on his shirt and we play pretend-“

Smack.

You hit him again.

He smiled a little wider, “There she goes c’mon.” He goaded you.

So you did.

Smack.

Then it was like a dam broke. You started beating on him. You jabbed and punched and shoved and slapped his chest, and arms, and stomach. You hit him like your life depended on it. You hit him until your arms hurt more than your heart.

And the entire time, he didn’t move an inch; the man was sturdy enough that you weren’t doing any real damage to him. Even when four men he had called walked into the apartment and began breaking the body down, he didn’t say a word. He shot them a look that was more terrifying than a loaded gun to the balls, but that was it. He let you have your moment. And it was likely for the best- watching a man get sawed into pieces and bagged up was not an easy sight to behold.

It was only when he decided the men were taking too long that he slowly retrieved his gun from the back of his jeans and calmly pointed it at them without taking his eyes off you. They scampered out within minutes; just a drying puddle of blood left behind.

You didn’t even know how you were still moving your arms anymore. It was pure adrenaline fuelling you. Slowly your mind began to go hazy and dim…the extreme emotions slowly leaving you.

Then, you felt your arms stop responding as your wrists were restrained. You blinked and looked up from where you had been targeting, and were met with those onyx eyes.

They were locked on you- following your every twitch and move.

“Enough.”

His voice was a rumble that made your head light.

There was no smile on Lalo’s face, no mirth. He was focused and you couldn’t bring yourself to even breathe properly lest it make you move too much. A drop of dread fell from the base of your skull down to your toes and settled into the soles of your feet. You felt cold.

Then, the older man took a single step forward that made you stumble a little but you only looked away from him for a moment as you recovered. He took another, propelling you with him as he backed you against the wall between your livingroom and your kitchen. Your skin suddenly felt far too warm, and it tingled like pins and needles.

Lalo weighed your soul; his heavy gaze had you in shackles and you were helpless to try and get away from it. You had yet to see this amount of intensity from the man, and you were certain that he was preparing to end you. That he would take that pistol back out and fire a new hole into your head.

But the longer you stood there, the calmer you got- much to your surprise. You were still on edge, but your breathing came easier, and you let your gaze flick between his eyes, to the lines on his face, to his brows, his moustache, and that grey streak. Lalo pressed against you and the wall dug into your back but still you didn’t move. You let him invade your space and breathe your air, in fact you almost found yourself drawing him a little closer; pulling the wrists he held towards yourself. And to your surprise, you felt him push back, making your chest tight with how much pressure was on it with his weight. You could feel his breathing against you; every inhale and exhale.

His scent intoxicated you, as did his warmth. It made you forget how afraid you were, and lulled you. You could feel your heart just about beat out of your chest. However despite your sense of calm, you wouldn’t help but feel as if he was just a very cunning predatory making sure his prey wasn’t afraid before he pounced; making sure the meat wasn’t spoiled.

But then, a charming smile took over his face, and just like that, it was as if nothing had happened.

“Look what a mess you are! Let’s get you all cleaned, eh?” He chirped and stepped away from you.

You had jumped when he spoke, and felt yourself cool down almost instantly. Perhaps it was something akin to Stockholm syndrome but you felt yourself missing his chest crushing yours.

“Remind me to not get on your bad side,” he said in a jaunty laugh, “Man, you sure know how to knock a guy around. Damn.” Lalo touched his chest where you had been hitting, but didn’t stop smiling. His hands left you, and he began navigating through your apartment easily, like he had been there before. The older man hummed an old tune as he entered your washroom, and began looking through the cupboards; you were about to wonder what he was doing as your brain played catch-up, but you remembered him saying he was going to clean you up…whatever that meant.

Everything still felt so surreal to you. You stared down at your hands, and the flecks of blood there, wondering if any of it had even happened or if you were having a dream. It wasn’t until you blinked a few times and focused on breathing that you remembered that you were still in your less then modest sleep clothes. You looked around for something to cover yourself a little better, but you missed your opportunity when Lalo came striding back to you, perfectly comfortable in the space like it was a Sunday afternoon in his own home.

“Okaay…” he said to himself as he put down the supplies he had grabbed. Just as you looked at the materials, he wordlessly hoisted you up onto your kitchen counter. You gasped a little, but he seemed unbothered as he ignored your squirming and stood between your knees. You watched his large hand grab a wetted cloth and start wiping away at your skin; you were covered in blood and sweat. The older man cleaned you carefully and meticulously; he tutted the split skin and the harsh bruises forming, shaking his head at particularly bad ones. He gave you a scolding look when you nervously held your shirt down when he tried to lift it to inspect your ribs- tilting his head and pursing his mouth as if to chastise you.

So you let him. He was gentlemanly enough to only raise it to look at your torso…making sure nothing was broken. Lucky for you, nothing was. Bruised, yes, but not broken. Regardless of your luck, you forced yourself to ignore how warm his calloused hands were when they pressed down on your ribs. Oddly gentle. Comforting.

Once he deemed you clean enough, Lalo began dragging cotton pads soaked in peroxide over your cuts; he shushed you when the chemical stung too much.

Everything seemed so calm. There was no screaming, no sirens or things being thrown. It was late…and it was quiet. It was just you and him in your small kitchen; it was as if he had blocked out what you had done just a half hour earlier- beating and shoving at him like he was a punching bag.

You found yourself watching him carefully, half expecting him to break the act and snap your ankle as he inspected it, or spit in your face and hold a gun to your temple. But he didn’t even show a slight sign of ill intent. He just continued to bandage you.

There was no doubt in you that you were in deep debt to the Salamancas now. And while you were fairly naive to it, you knew that such a thing was practically a death sentence. Lalo had killed for you whether you wanted him to or not. He had saved you. There was no coming back from that.

Regardless of the weight settling on your shoulders, there was a calmness you felt as his warmth radiated into you from standing so close to you. You could feel his breath on your skin and all you could smell was him; smoke and some kind of spice, and a little tequila or whiskey. It was in his clothes and his skin. Everywhere. His touch was like a brand- scorching your skin.

There was a gash on your arm from where your ex had come at you with a knife; Lalo cleaned the blood away, and pressed down to see how deep it was. You jerked at the pain, but he tsked you and his large hand gripped you tighter, “Ah ah, hold still.” He murmured.

Your eyes flickered over his face, and you worried the inside of your lip, “S-sorry.” You said softly.

A simple but not altogether peaceful silence filled the space as another few minutes passed as he wrapped your arm. The only noise that ended it was the phone in his pocket ringing. You jumped at the sound, while Lalo merely blinked and pulled the device out and held it to his ear as he checked over your face.

The older man brought a hand up to your chin, and tilted your head side to side while inspecting you. You let him, moving your head as he wished.

“Buen.” He rumbled, and you held his gaze, intimidating as it was. Then, he pulled the phone away and snapped it shut before slipping it back into his pocket.

Lalo squinted at a mark on your cheek, and grabbed the cloth again to wipe it.

“Moron beat the shit outta you…” he remarked almost to himself.

You nodded, and smiled a tiny bitter smile as he signed and tossed the closed into the sink; wrappers from bandages and blots of blood on the counter.

“I used to love him…” you whispered, “Turned out to be a real piece of work…” you smiled again, just briefly, in spite of the pain and shock, “He hated life…and life hated him back…” you were just rambling and thinking out loud, but Lalo listened. Perhaps you were boring him a little, but he was curious about exactly who he was dealing with.

You remembered something then, “Did you know he hated Mexican food? Claimed paprika was spicy.”

Lalo gasped and widened his eyes comically. “No! Estoy jodidamente contento de que esté muerto entonces…” he shook his head.

You snorted and laughed dryly, nodding your head.

Then, after a moment, you looked over at the drying blood on the floor. You flinched at the memory of him forcing his way into your home…how horrifying it was to see him so suddenly. But the longer you looked, the less you felt. In you peripheral, you could see Lalo crumpling the bandage wrappers in his hand.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

Lalo looked up at you then, and followed your gaze, but you spoke again before he could reply.

“I-…I think I would have done the same, you know.”

This made him pause for a moment.

“If I- if I found someone threatening you or Hector…and I had a gun…I would have done the same.” You knew they weren’t the words of a completely sane person but you said them anyways.

Lalo laughed, “Big talk for a mouse!” He smiled wolfishly.

You stared back at him. “I mean it.”

You realized that you really did mean it. You knew that somehow you were so far gone that you would let blood get on your hands for them. But somehow that didn’t scare you.

The older man shifted and leaned forward between your knees again- bracing himself on his hands as he placed them on either side of you. He was invading your space again, but you held firm. There was no room left in you for fear. You were exhausted and aching.

“You trying to tell me little ratoncito would kill for a Salamanca?” He had an amused smile on his face, but you noted his emotionless eyes- like he was daring you to take back what you said.

A part of you was telling you to- to say you didn’t mean it and tell him you wouldn’t tell anyone what had transpired there that night. But that part of you was stupid, and you were not stupid. Not that stupid. You knew that was a one way ticket to an early grave, so you nodded your weary head.

“Don’t know how good of a shot I am but it’s the thought that counts right?” Your mouth quirked up a little at your horrible joke. You supposed it was a stress reaction to cope.

And Lalo laughed. A single bark of a laugh. “I am so glad you’re funny ninita.” He wagged his finger at you. His face had been so firm as you explained yourself, that now seeing him smile set you a little at ease. The older man pulled away from breathing your air and walked to the sink to wash his hands,“Now what are we going to do about this?” He asked casually.

His question was simple, but it made your heart thump hard. “About?” You asked.

Lalo looked brightly at you as he dried his hands. “You want to say thank you to me, sì?”

You stared at him and you knew there was only one answer. “Of course.” You said.

Lalo smiled. “Esa es mi chica.”

He grabbed one of the two chairs from your small table, and turned it around for him to sit. He spread his knees and leaned forward onto them as he weighed your existence with those brown eyes of his. There was only the faint tapping of water dripping from the faucet as Lalo regarded you- still sat on your kitchen counter. Bruised and battered. Alive thanks to him.

“That cute stunt you pulled at Los Pollos Hermanos…can you do it again?” He asked, lacing his fingers together in front of him. The picture of ease and calm.

“Yes.” You didn’t miss a beat. You had come to terms with the fact that you would do what you did again if need be a while ago.

“Bigger?” He asked.

Your stomach twisted a little. The idea made you nervous, but you knew you could do it.

“Yes.” You answered.

Lalo smiled again and wagged a finger at you. “Ratoncito loco, lo juro...”

You didn’t return the smile, but your face softened. “I’ve been called worse.” You mused, then looked back down at your hand and the blue bruises turning to purple.

The older man didn’t say anything, but he watched you while you fiddled with a bandage and absentmindedly swung your feet slightly.

He looked at you properly in the dim light of your simple apartment. You weren’t frail per se, but you had a certain exhaustion to you that scratched an itch in Lalo’s mind. A tiredness of the world you knew, of the people around you, of who you had become. Yet in spite of that, there was a firecracker inside you waiting to burst into flame; you had a bite to you, even if it was small. Lalo could work with that.

The blood wasn’t as difficult to get out of your floor as you thought it would be.

Your landlady thankfully didn’t put up too much of an argument when you told her you were leaving and breaking your tenancy. You had a feeling it wasn’t just her being nice.

The motel room you were now living out of wasn’t horrible. The extra couple hundreds Lalo had given you when he told you where to stay helped too. Sure the commute to work was a little longer but it wasn’t like you had a choice.

Your eyes were a little more glazed over at work now. You wondered how much longer you would be there. That night, Lalo had given you a date and time and location for your repayment, and now you were counting down the days. It was only a few, but time seemed to pass so quickly and so slowly simultaneously.

Your instructions were fairly simple, in theory. Make the buildings power short circuit if Lalo didn’t call you by 11:42pm. Following that and your escape, you were to go to new motel, and lay low for a few days until you got more instructions.

That or you assumed someone would show up to clean you up as a lose end.

He didn’t tell you why he give you such a specific time, but you assumed there was some kind of shift change over for security at 11:45pm, and wanted those three minutes to carry out some kind of plan B.

Which was why your knee bounced as you see as t in your car across from some massive laundry facility. As you waited, you scanned over the blueprints to the building that you had managed to get from city hall. Evidently a forced smile had been enough to get the clerk to hand it over, and a pouty lip and claiming to be a stressed collage student with a paper due to let you take it home. Once upon a time you would have wanted to wretch at the thought of having done that, but somehow you found yourself…indifferent. Like a part of your anxiety died that night with your ex.

The service road was dim, and your pulse was working double time.

You checked your watch. It read 11:25pm.

A part of you wondered exactly what was set to happen inside that building, but you assumed it could mean your death if you asked. Somewhere in your gut you knew it was an attempt to destroy that man from Los Pollos…it couldn’t be a coincidence that Lalo had asked you to do exactly what you had done again for someone else when he had been so pleased with seeing that restaurant crumble.

So you gathered what you needed and shoved it into a small pouch, said a prayer, and got out of your car. You knew it was a 50/50 chance of Lalo calling you to stop you, but you needed to be ready. If you were only halfway there when he called it might be a big enough mistake that would cost him his life.

It was a fairly quick trip to the building, albeit a stressful one. The fence surrounding the warehouse was thankfully not electrified, though it was still very uncomfortable to scale. A day previously you had managed to find a low point that would be easier to get back over when you were escaping too.

As you waiter for the rotation of guards to get to their blind point, you leapt up and rolled yourself over the top of the metal fence, landing with a fairly ungrateful thud and a cloud of dust that was thankfully covered by the darkness.

You crouched low, and held onto the strap of your pouch. There were men everywhere watching, but you were small and unassuming in the shadows. You hoped you could channel that inner mouse that Lalo claimed you had, though it was a long shot. With another breath, you pulled your medical mask up over your face’s lower half as you sped from one shadow to another. It was an odd atmosphere there- you felt as if you were walking into Area 51. It was deserted and eerie aside from the security. You might have not been to a laundry processing warehouse before but you sure as shit were certain that this level of security was odd.

You clung to the side of the building; your heart in your ears. Time was on your side for once, as you checked your watch again, and noted that you still had 7 minutes before you potentially had to clip and cross and overload the building’s wiring. Perhaps you spoke a little soon though as you had begun to go a little too fast towards the back of the building and missed getting spotted by a man by a centimetre. The toes of your shoes stuck out of the thin shadow that concealed you, but evidently they weren’t enough to draw the attention of the guard. You thanked god for the emergency ladder beside you for partially hiding you too.

You found the back entrance and worked your way along to find the main control panel. Shadows moved out of the corner of your eye, making your mind play tricks on you, and you felt chills run up and down your spine; then you found it. The panel came into view, and you checked the area around you once more as you opened your bag. There were three thick locks over the latches that opened the door, and you sighed as you looked at them. Your metal tools felt very cold in your hands.

There was no going back now.

You slipped your picking tools inside the first lock, began pressuring the mechanisms inside of the lock. You were still rusty, but your life was on the line, so you didn’t have room for a botched job. After a few minutes, you felt the device click and pop open- relief filled you. It was short lived though when you remembered that you had a maximum of 5 minutes before the next rotation of guards began their way to you.

The thought of getting caught made your hands shake, but not as much as the thought of the Salamancas coming after you. You worked at the next lock and focused on sleeping in a dry motel that night instead of your body being tossed into a shallow grave or left in the desert like some insignificant roadkill.

The second lock popped open after a few moments, and you checked your watch.

11:40pm.

As the time grew closer to when you might need to blow this building's circuits, you felt an odd clarity come over you- tinkering away at the last lock. You might have been in danger. You might have been caught up in a cartel. You might have been alone. You might have been a witness to a murder.

But you weren’t afraid. Disturbed by your possible fate, perhaps, but not afraid. You were exhausted of being afraid all the time.

The lock popped open, and you stared at it calmly.

You have a job to do.

The metal door opened with a screech, and you enhaled deeply when you saw the massive circuit-board and hundreds of fuses, and wires wrapped and bound together. You were certain your ex was calling you a hypocrite from his place Hell.

You checked your watch again.

11:42pm.

You sucked in another breath, and stared at your shaking hands like it might help to stop the tremors. It didn’t.

The silence was heavy around you, and you stood in it for another second before your little alarm went off.

"Okay..." You whispered to yourself. Your mask made your breath feel moist and hot. Your hands took purchase on your wire cutters and pliers, and you stared at some weak points. You wanted the fuses to blow on their own, so you started with flipping off and switches with wires connected that you wanted to clip or mess with. Lights shut off around you, but there was enough for you to see what you were doing as you reworked some of the wire positions, and clipped and tugged. Then once you were satisfied, you took a deep breath and turned every single switch on. For any building, it was t advised for every power-drawer to be on at once if unnecessary…for good reason. There was a low hum that began to emit from the panel. The tampered fuses and wiring forcing more and more strain on other areas so they would start tripping.

A spark startled you. Then another. Then another. You watched the entire panel start to malfunction. Then, there were shouts of panic around the building as a power grid shut off in the lot, which you took that as your cue to run.

With your pliers and white cutters in your bag, you shut the panel door and locked it back up in record time. Then, you faced the fence, and ran.

You didn't care that the lights were shutting down all around you. All you knew was you had instructions, and you were certainly going to follow them. You came to the edge of the front of the building and paused in the shadows as groups of men scattered around the dusty lot. Your heart was racing in your chest, but you could see your car just beyond the light, and you expected some kind of relief to wash over you but it didn’t come. Instead, there was a deep pit forming in your stomach.

Lalo hadnt called you.

Of course you hoped that it was simply because his plan went accordingly and having the cover of darkness and chaos was what he needed and...not that it was because he had been shot and bled out before he could call you. The idea that he might have met the fate that you had dreaded for yourself suddenly made you-

Ring ring ring

You froze.

The quiet ring tone made you scramble to answer your phone before it attracted attention. You pulled it from your jacket and wrenched your mask down to breathe when you saw the number.

His.

The same number he had put on a piece of paper for you a month ago.

A million and a half thoughts went through your head as you stared down at the little screen, but the only one you could focus on was the possibility that Lalo was in trouble. That he needed you.

You hit answer, and held the phone to your ear. "Hello?" You whispered, pressing yourself against the side of the building.

There was a strained breath on the other end. "You busy, princesita?"

You couldn’t breathe. He wasnt supposed to call you. That was never a part of any plan he told you.

"No." You managed to get out, eyes unfocused as you tried to remember the blueprints of the building.

"Mind giving me a hand?" He asked just as carefree as he always was, but you knew better. There was a tightness to his voice. He was hurt. Badly too, if he was calling you.

"Wh-where are you?" You asked, already searching for your flashlight in your bag as another few light grids shut off around you.

"You’re- mierda...You’re gonna come in through the main door, okay? Th-through the door with the window... At the end- ah...end of those washers and shit, theres gonna be a door behind one..." He coughed, and you heard him suck in a breath.

You nodded frantically to yourself as you recalled the drawing of the building. Seems that Chicken man was up bro more than just a restaurant. "Okay, okay I- I remember where that is. I’m coming just- just dont die!" You said in a rush.

"Klah! Me? Never." You heard him say, but you were already flipping the phone shut. Lights were flickering like mad as you began inching around to the front of the building, and your eyes began playing tricks on you as they strained to function in the changing a brightness.

To your luck, the front was almost devoid of security as they all ran to the back or inside. You heard radios going off and yells and orders being barked out, but somehow no one saw you.

You crept along the blue facility until you made it to the door. It sat open, and you didn’t waste any time as you slipped inside past the massive bins.

You were alone. For now.

You clicked on your flashlight and you were indeed surrounded by massive industrial washers. It was admittedly overwhelming, but you forced your brain to focus. You looked at each end of the main walkway of the processing room just as Lalo had told you to, and you noticed that a washer at one end was off kilter. You didn’t have time yo weigh the pros and cons of choosing to investigate it, but when you went to run, the sound of footsteps halted you. You clicked off your flashlight.

"The hell is going on in there- this shits supposed to be secure..." You heard a ma n say, and a grumble from another man. You looked around and ducked behind one of the washers; evidently just in time too as the men passed by you just several feet away.

“Where the hell is Mike?” One asked.

You let out a relieved breath when they didn’t turn around or stop to check on your heavy breathing, but it caught in your throat when you saw the guns in their belts glint in the little light. The very real situation that you had just ran into settled into your mind. That you were in the middle of a very messy cartel issue. Something that even Lalo hadn’t meant for you to get mixed in.

You waited until they left, and it grew quiet again before you flicked your light on again, and made a break for the washer. You hoped to god that you weren't too late in your search.

The amount of sound from your feet was too loud, but you didn’t dare stop. You hoped no one would care in the chaos you had created. The sound of other footsteps began to echo around you and you felt a weight on your chest like you were running from a loaded gun but you didn’t look back.

When you were just feet away, you saw the edge of a hidden door. You internally rejoiced, but it was short-lived when you remembered a man might be dying. You whipped around the corner of it, and followed the route of the stairs down. You didn’t have time to consider you might be going the wrong way, so you clamoured down as fast and quietly as you humanly could. Your feet were surprisingly soundless as you inched along the catwalks and flashed your light here and there along the scaffolding.

*What the hell is this place...*

Your heart was in your throat. You could smell dirt and machinery-

You stopped. A sound caught your ears, and you listened for it again. There- a wheeze.

"S-Señor Lalo?" You whispered, creeping down the steps, flashing your light across the expansive space.

You continued down, down, down until you were at the second to last flight of stairs when you jumped and almost fell back. Your flashlight caught a sight that chilled you.

"Eh…Hola niñita, fancy seeing you here!"

Just a couple feet down from you sat the very man who had called you. Your blood went cold when you saw Lalo laying there on the stairs with blood seeping out of his side and neck where he was pressing down.

"L-Lalo-" You whispered, rooted to the spot. Not even the sight of your ex shot dead had rendered you so motionless.

"Not to rush you princesa, but I’ve felt better." He forced out, glancing down at his side that was getting more saturated with blood by the second.

Your senses suddenly went into hyperdrive, and you almost jumped down the couple steps to crouch at his side. You placed your flashlight into the crook of your neck and held it there with your cheek as you pulled his hand from his jugular. A little relief filled you when you noted that the artery wasn’t hit and the bullet just skimmed him.

"Okay, you’re okay." You muttered to him, "Lets get you up."

You were so focused as you started positioning yourself for some leverage that you missed the fact that his eyes hadn't left you. Then he sighed and waved you off.

"Need...the camera..." He rumbled and pointed down.

You stared at him in confusion then followed his finger and held your light again to follow the beam.

Sure enough, 20 feet below you in the dirt was a camcorder.

You nodded silently, not even considering the possibility of arguing, and leapt over him before clamouring down the stairs. Your feet hit dirt and you looked around frantically for the device. The metal caught the light of your flashlight, and as you sped over to it, tried to ignore the various trails of blood in the soil. You grasped the camera and slipped it into your pouch along side your other supplies as you scaled the stairs, light jumping with every step.

As you came back to his side, you wordlessly gripped Lalo’s hand and elbow, and gingerly began to help him stand; you had expected him to wince or protest, but all you heard was him groan a little and wave you off like a fly.

"Shit shot..." He rumbled.

You looked at him as you ignored his gesture, and guided him up, "Wh-"

"Chicken Man he was a shit fucking shot...could’ve at least killed me. Now look at me…" He shook his head like he was more disappointed than distressed.

You huffed out a stressed laugh and looked back at him, then swore under your breath.

"What? I look that bad?" He joked.

You shook your head and moved your flashlight to your mouth and your pressed your free hand to his neck as it continued to gush. He was paler and paler by the second.

"Step." You muttered, again you ignored any of his attempts to be independent, and together you began your ascent up the narrow metal stairs.

His pace was determined and you briefly wondered if he was human as he seemed to ignore his wounds. Your steps fell into sync, and you were thankful for the silence between you as you tried to figure out what the hell you were going to do. As you reached the top of the stairs, you mentally began to map out the building in your head in relation to where you were. You couldn't just walk out the front door, and you couldn’t use the back exit either; no doubt there were men stationed at every exit…

You hesitated slightly just inside hidden door, and thought for a moment. You could hear voices outside, and footsteps...the place was crawling with people. With guns.

Your mind worked overtime and while you couldn't think of a perfect solution, you had one that would hopefuly end with the least amount of bullets in you. Without another thought, you flicked off your light and looked at Lalo as darkness engulfed you. Just like you, he didnt say a word. He knew you were thinking- keeping your word that you would effectively put yourself in harms way for him.

You stuck your head out briefly to see how clean the path was, and once you were satisfied, you sucked in a breath and looked back at the older man by your side. He nodded down at you as best he could and the two of you took a step out into the laundry facility.

You both crept along one of the washers, and glanced out at the room. A person came around the corner of one of the machines, flashlight in hand and you quickly moved the two of you back. Lalo hissed at the quick movement, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care enough. The footsteps came and went, as did a few others along with shouting. You chanced a glance out again, and this time, you went for it.

"Cmon." You whispered.

Lalo let you take his arm, and you guided him along the machines to a service hall where it was less exposed. You could hear people running , and tires screeching outside and orders being barked out, but all you could do was focus on letting your eyes adjust to the darkness and making sure you didn’t trip or take a wrong turn. Once you were halfway down the hall, a door opened at the other end, and you felt bile rise in your throat. You acted on instict and pressed Lalo into the nearest open door and held your breath. You couldn’t see him clearly, but you could feel Lalo’s warm chest rising and falling against you. You watched the flashlight of the person bob around out in the hall beyond the door and prayed that the person wouldn’t look in the doorway.

Your muscles seazed up as you waited and held your breath...then the person was gone. You breathed out and quickly grabbed the older man and began the last leg of the journey. You shouldered open the door at the end, and sure enough, there was an exit up to the roof. You looked around vaguly at the dark room and noted that there were no windows, and turned your light back on.

"You first Señor." You said and nodded to the ladder. Lalo stared at you, hard.

Then he nodded, and began hoisting himself up the ladder. You shone your light up for him to see where he was going and waited until he was at the top before following behind him quickly. At the top, you wrenched the small door open and almost fell out onto the roof. You looked around, and appreciated that there was a little light from neighbouring warehouses illuminating the outside. You whipped your head around and began looking for the ladder down like you had hid behind when you blew the fuze box. Sure enough, across the roof, you saw the first few steps and you nodded towards it for Lalo to see. The two of you took off and kept low. You could see cars exiting and entering the gate and you swore under your breath. So much for a clear path.

"How bad a shape are you in, Señor?" You muttered to him.

Lalo smiled out a hoarse laugh and scanned with you. "Should see the other guy.” He replied, and you looked over at him. He shot you a wink and you felt your eye twitch.

You sighed, and nodded and pointed to where you had managed to get over the fence, "Theres a low part in the fence there...we might get seen, but...I think we'll at least be able to get away." It looked so far away now, especially since you were on another part of the roof.

Lalo nodded and started towards the ladder before you could even check that the coast was clear.

You tried to halt him, "Wait-"

But he already took your hand and dragged you down with him over the rungs of the latter, almost completely foregoing them. You scrambled down after him, and landed beside him just in time for a flashlight to shine over the roof.

As you stood there together, you saw Lalo sway for a moment, then recover with steely eyes as if nothing had happened. You knew he wasn’t doing well, but you had a feeling he would die before he showed any sign of weakness…hell you were certain he would die with a smile on his face if he could.

The two of you stayed low for a moment as you scanned the lot, and it seemed as if you both came to the same conclusion: there was no way you could wait for a perfect moment.

“I’m ready when you are Señor.” You whispered almost reassuringly up to him, then glanced down at his neck that still had a stream of blood coming from it, albeit small. You still didn’t know how he was running around with two bullet wounds.

Lalo remained still for a second as another guard ran past the two of you, then reached into the back of his belt, under his jacket. He produced a gun- the same one you had seen him use that night when he…

“You know how to shoot one of these?” He asked as he pressed it into your palm. You stared down at it. It was heavier than you though it would be.

“I- I know the general idea.” You said, holding it in your hand.

Lalo pressed his hand back to his bleeding side and groaned slightly. “Two hands. One to aim one to steady, okay? Point and shoot. Easy.” He nodded when you had it right. “Vamos.” He rumbled, and began your break from the safety of the shadows.

Having the gun in your hand made you feel both vulnerable and dangerous simultaneously. You scanned as you ran, and just when you began to hope you didn’t have to fire the weapon, you saw a man round the corner of the building just behind you, and you stopped running without a second thought. You aimed, and you shot.

The gun’s recoil made you jump and you watched as the man fell and a spurt of blood came from his back as the bullet winged him.

You heard Lalo bark out a single laugh, “Mi niñita loca…a natural!”

Your ears were ringing. Your feet moved you toward him as you tore your eyes from the groaning man on the ground, and kept your steady pace towards the fence. It came quicker than you thought, though you gathered that the fact that you were still reeling from having just shot a man had something to do with it.

“You first Señor.” You rushed out as you both came to a stop; managing to turn the safety on the gun before stuffing the gun into your pouch.

Lalo didn’t argue, though he did fix you with an intense stare before he pulled himself up the bars with more ease than you thought possible, especially considering his injury. You wondered what it would take to slow him down…

He landed with a thud and a cloud of dust on the other side.

“Vamos, niñita.” He said, beckoning you over with both hands.

You nodded and sucked in a breath and jumped up to grab the top of the fence, and let the adrenaline do the rest of the work. You pulled yourself up and as you situated yourself to jump down, you felt something whizz past your head. Things went quiet and your ears rang. You whipped your head and looked behind you; sure enough, there where two men approaching you with their guns raised. You blinked, then you jumped. Lalos hands were on your waist to guide you down, but all you could see was his paling complexion.

Another few shots were fired, hitting the fence.

You brain kicked back into gear just enough to grab his hand and run to your car with Lalo. You wrench open the door the door for him then ran to the drivers side as another bullet was fired.

You pulled your keys out and forced your hands to cooperate for a moment as you started it up and hit the gas without hesitation. A few more shots were fired behind you, but you peeled out of there before they could do any damage.

It wasn’t until you had been driving for five minutes, taking twists and turns that would get you several speeding and hazardous driving tickets if you were caught, that you finally looked over at the man beside you. He was pressing against his neck and side, and you flickered your gaze over him.

“Y-you’re bleeding-“ you said. It was a dumb thing to say, but it was all you could get out. “I…I need to- we need to get you somewhere…I can’t- no no hospital…do you know anyone? I- I can probably stitch your neck but…”your voice cracked.

“You have to calm down, Jesus Christ… I’m the one dying here.” He rasped.

Your panicking self turned to him sharply and you made a split second decision. “You’re not going to die.”

You turned the car around far too harshly and sped off into the city. You needed more civilization. More people. Being alone would kill the both of you.

You drove to the motel you had booked ahead of time to lay low in after that night, and as you pulled to a stop outside, your hands began to shake uncontrollably. The breaths you took came shakily too.

You didn’t even see the rare look of pride on Lalo’s face- you had done good. He was impressed.

But all you could do was succumb to your adrenaline and panic as they mixed. “You lost so much blood…g-god I should have found you faster, I’m sorry…I gotta get you inside- I have a kit in the trunk, I-I can patch you up-“

You were cut off when Lalo reached over to you with his good arm, and gripped the back of your head and yanked you over the middle console and kissed you. Everything stopped. Your breathing, your words, your heart, your brain, time…everything. You could taste him as his warm tongue flicked against yours when you gasped. It was fast and hard, but you were left stunned as he pulled away. Lalo stared at you, and just as he had hoped, you reset.

You blinked.

Once.

Twice.

“O-okay…” you whispered, eyes refocusing. “Let’s get you inside.” You were on auto pilot as you opened your door and grabbed the first aid kit from the back and the bag you had packed when you left your apartment almost a week ago. As you were about to cross over to the motel, you stopped Lalo quickly and began buttoning up his jacket for a little extra coverage of his bloodstains. Lalo regarded you calmly and carefully, a tiny grin pulling at his mouth.

“I loved this jacket…” he rumbled, regarding the stain forming, “Really comfortable, y’know?”

Once you were satisfied, you led him to the room you had booked, and took out the key they had given you two days ago.

You turned the key and swung the door open before helping the man in and sitting him down and kicking the door shut. You dumped your things down and crouched as you began unbuttoning his jacket. The red stain confronted you again when you pushed the fabric off his broad shoulders. You stared at it, then you heard him tut you.

“Se agradecería un poco de entusiasmo.” He was aloof, but his words were beginning to slur. He wasn’t doing well.

You jumped and snapped back to yourself as you began to frantically undo his dress-shirt.

“You’re okay. You’re okay.” You muttered, though you weren’t sure if it was for him or for yourself.

His nice shirt came apart, all sticky from the blood, and you were faced with his soaked skin, and angry wound. Your head went light.

You remembered patching your ex up one night after a bar fight…but nothing that bad. It had been a cut from a pocket knife, not two bullet wounds.

There was no time for you to fall apart though. You were going to make this right even if it was the last thing you did.

You ran to the bathroom and filled the motel ice bucket with warm water and a glass with cold. When you came back, Lalo was forcing himself to stay awake- eyelids heavy. You grabbed every towel you could, and knelt at his feet again.

“Ey, there she is…” he rumbled.

You felt your lips pull into a nervous grin as if trying to see his humour.

“You’re gonna be okay…I’m- I’m gonna fix this-…” Your voice was unsteady though you tried your best to stay calm for him.

You dipped one of the towels into warm water and began dabbing away the blood by his side as best as you could; your stomach flipped at the sight of his torn flesh, but you weren’t about to pass out or back down.

“L-lay back, here.” You grabbed a few pillows and guided him to lay down, and as you went back to wiping his neck and side clean, you watched him try to say lucid. He did a profound job of keeping his breathing steady and you had a brief wonder of how many times he had been shot or worse. You brought a towel to his side and pressed down. Then you felt a surge of panic when you realized you hadn’t given him anything for the pain. “Shit! I’m- I’m sorry you- I didn’t give you anything.” You wrenched the kit open and shakily looked for anything that might help him. You found a small bottle of Tylenol, and though you weren’t certain how effective it would be, you grabbed two and the clean glass of water.

“Open.” You forced out, and placed the pills on his tongue and held the glass to his lips. Your hands shook and you spilled a little, but you focused on remaining calm.

You set the water down once he swallowed and took another towel, then went to his neck where you wiped more blood away. It was just a gash, but needed stitches. You felt your heart beat in your throat, and you wanted so badly to break down, but you couldn’t. You rifled through the kit and found the sutures, a new needle pack and the holder and forceps, and set them on the bed. You wiped the area again, and took a shuttered breath.

“Hey…”

You felt tears well in your eyes.

“Niñita.” Came his voice again.

You blinked and grabbed the needle pack and ripped it open with your teeth. The needle fell into your hand, and you took another breath.

“Y/n.”

You jumped and looked up. Lalo was staring right at you, eyelids heavy.

“You need to stay calm.” He rumbled, “Can’t let me get fucked up, sì?”

You sobbed out a laugh.

“You’re horrible.” You whispered, and sniffled.

“Everybody loves me.” He smiled dazed.

You took a few more breaths and thought of something that made you sober quickly. You thought of what Hector would have done to you if he found out you let his favourite nephew die.

With that in mind, you knelt beside him on the bed; you wiped and dried the wound on his neck again quickly, and pushed his flesh back together to start stitching

“Easy there tiger.” He groaned.

You sighed and brought the threaded needle to his skin, and you pushed in. The feeling of the needle going through his skin made your stomach churn.

His eye twitched, but he didn’t move as you slowly stitched him up. You hoped to god that you weren’t making this worse than it was already was, and thanked god that you had seen several medical shows on late night television years ago…

You finished the wound, and you sighed in relief as you tied a knot for the remaining thread. It wasn’t perfect, but the wound was holding together and he was barely bleeding anymore.

You cleaned the surrounding area one more time, and looked at your patient. He was staring at nothing, but he was awake. You wanted to stop and check on him, but you knew time was not something you had plenty of. With that in mind, you shuffled gingerly down the mattress to the other bullet hole, and cleaned away the entrance wound. There was no way you were going to try and remove a bullet. Certainly you had seen it done in movies but you were not about to do it to a man on deaths door, not when it meant it could cause him to bleed out. You replaced the towel that had become sodden with blood, and pressed down on the crisp white fabric. A warm blot of blood began to seep through and you felt your heart sink down into your ankles.

You were horrified that you had to sniffle a little, tears threatening to well up. You watched his face carefully; he was unbelievably strong willed. He practically refused to lose consciousness. His skin was pale and his eyes were heavy yet still he was awake and watching you from his propped up perch.

“I know a guy…” he rumbled. Suddenly.

You jumped and looked at him, surprised that he spoke. “Tell me how to reach him.” You said, already reaching for his jacket to find his phone.

“Second to last number…he’ll know who it is…” He might have been lacking blood, but Lalo still managed to sound just as confident and aloof as always.

You scrolled down and found the number, and pressed it without another thought. It rang twice before a man answered it.

“Where?” Came the voice.

You wanted to double check that he knew who you were calling for…but you had a feeling this man wasn’t just some guy who forgot who Lalo Salamanca was.

You gave him the address, simple and concise. He didn’t say thank you, or double check, and somehow you found that comforting. You snapped the phone shut, and placed it back in his pocket.

“He’s coming…it…its going to be okay…” you whispered. You wondered how many times that phone had been used to take a life with a simple order.

You looked down at the towel on his side, and lifted it gently to check the bleeding. It was still coming. You grabbed one of the spare pillows and wordlessly began unbuckling Lalo’s belt.

“I know you wanna help there princesita, but I don’t think right now is the best time for a bl-“

You ripped the belt from the loops and pressed the pillow to his side, making him groan and shut his mouth fast. It wasn’t perfect, but you managed to get the belt under his back and around his waist and over the pillow to fasten it to his side, tight. The pressure would help the bleeding better than your hands, and you leaned back once you got it tight enough.

You heart rate had slowed, and now seeing him a little more repaired, you looked at him properly. His eyes were closed, and it didn’t hit you for a moment that him being lax could be a horrible thing. Then your blood went cold.

You shot up out of your seat beside him and leaned over his chest.

"L...Lalo?" You whispered.

Nothing.

You feel lightheaded. You pressed your ear to his chest, and his heartbeat was faint. The tips of your fingers felt cold.

"Lalo!" Your voice broke, but again, there was no response.

Your eyes began to well with tears, and you broke.

"You motherfucker I'm neck deep in this shit, and I cant get myself out without you!" You cried out and slapped his thick chest.

You stared at his face for a moment, dread filling you.

Then, the corner of his mouth tugged.

“Awh, you mean it?” Came his low voice, his eyes still closed.

You felt your hands tingle as the urge to slap him filled you. It was like he could feel it. Lalo smirked slightly.

“C’mon I know you want to…what just because I’m half dead you’re going soft?” He goaded you.

You clenched your jaw and sighed. His mouth tugged again, though his eyes remained closed. Eventually his face went lax, and his breathing became even and slow. You called his name once more, but when he didn’t answer you gathered he was sleeping. You hoped against hope that the guy you had called would be there soon, but you supposed only time would tell.

In his dazed slumber, Lalo murmured a name or two…and you found yourself getting dizzy with sleep the longer you watched him.

You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but when you woke up, your head was down on the bed in your arms- just where you had been as you watched over him.

You looked up, and and stilled when you saw those large, glittering black eyes staring back at you, fully awake and very alive.

“Ahh she awakens.” He rasped.

You sat up and rubbed your head, taking him in.

He was sat, clean and reclined on the bed. There was a neat bandage over his side, and a smaller one over his neck, along with a couple brown bags where he kept reaching and eating from on the side table

“What…” you tried to say. You had expected to be awoken by the man knocking to get in the room, so how in the hell had he gotten in-

“Hm? Other guy took too long…called in a favour. Didn’t feel like dying yet.” He said as he pulled out a water from one of the bags for you. He dangled it in front of your face.

“I-oh…thank you.” You slowly took the water, and drank from it. You couldn’t remember when you last had water.

“Chicken man thinks he got me…we’ll stay here for a while…” Lalo rumbled.

You nodded, “I- I have the room booked for another two nights…um- I can see if I can get another one for you…if you want some priva-“

“Nah.” He dismissed you. But he said it with that easy grin of his as he looked at the shitty motel room service brochure. There was a warm silence to the room as you sat there with him. You sipped at your water, and slowly stood up, wincing at your back.

Lalo was flipping through one of the brochures of Albuquerque and chuckling every so often. Evidently he thought the touristic sights were amusing. It all seemed so surreal again, just like that night in your apartment as he patched you up.

Then, as you stood there in a daze, you. Suddenly realised how disgusting you felt. Blood and sweat and dirt was caked to you. You quietly went to the washroom and splashed some cold water on your face. You looked a mess. With Lalo more stable, you walked outside and grabbed the bag you had, and went back to the washroom to shower. You bagged up the clothes you had worn, and climbed inside the stall. The warm water washed over you, and you felt tears run down your face as the stress broke out of you. You sobbed quietly into your hand, and let the blood and dirt drain away.

It wasn’t long, but it was enough to help you settle back into your body.

Once you were finished, you dried your hair and put on some clean clothes; you forgot how wonderful it felt to be scrubbed clean. Your head felt a little light, but clear.

When you came out, Lalo was staring out the front window, and slipping a new, clean shirt onto one arm. You watched his back flex and the thick muscles ripple, and you were suddenly hit with the memory of of his lips pressing against yours in the car-

“You’re a little crazy, you know that?” He rumbled as he turned around, and begun buttoning his floral shirt.

You blinked and dragged your stare away from his chest.

“I’m- I’m sorry?” You asked, not fully understanding him. Was he referring to you running through firing bullets for him?

“You said you wished you had a family like the Salamancas. Anyone who says that must be crazy.” He smiled and said it with a laugh, but neither reached his eyes.

You didn’t smile, and didn’t move. Not even when he reached and grabbed his gun off the night stand as he stalked towards you.

“Said you’d take a bullet if you needed to…hm?” He taunted you, standing between you and the door.

You felt a drop of water you had missed run down the back of your neck.

“I haven’t achieved a lot in my life, Señor…but I like to think that I saved your life last night…and while I don’t think you’re a good person, I do know you have a lot of people who would miss you.” You looked from the barrel of the gun to his eyes, “You can shoot me, Señor Lalo…I did something good last night…and I can die with that on my consciousness. If I die with your family knowing I did something in their favour, I’ll be satisfied.” You swallowed and looked back at him. A sense of calm came over you, “Just…please make sure Hector is never seated beside Thomas Lee…they hate each other.” You added with a tiny smile at the memory of having to separate their wheelchairs more than once.

Lalo’s heavy gaze was locked on you, and your eyes flickered over him; his chest was rising and falling quickly. Very unlike the Lalo you knew. He was always so calm…eerily so.

“Come closer I don’t want to miss.” He rumbled.

You took the few steps that were between you, and stood at the edge of his outstretched arm, just an inch from the gun.

You raised your gaze to meet his, firm and ready to meet your end. But you saw something in Lalo that you had only seen once before- that night he had emptied a magazine into your ex- it was a hunger. A glimpse of an animal inside him.

You both stood there for a moment, barely blinking as you stared at one another. The air was thick and warm as the scorching sun heated everything under it outside. You watched his mouth twitch, and his glittering eyes flickered over your face as you remained still. He was thinking…fast.

You had proved yourself to him whether you meant to or not. Proved that you were willing and loyal. That you were quick and nurturing.

You were nuts.

And he liked that.

Then, Lalo brought his arm down and threw the gun onto the table behind him. The movement made you flinch slightly, but you still didn’t move. You weren’t about to be weak in front of him. You watched the older man take the two strides that separated you, and you felt his warm hands slip along your jaw to tilt your head back before you felt his lips on yours. They were warm, and he tasted of something sweet and smoky; his moustache tickled your lip, and you mewled softly into his mouth as you leaned up to move your lips with his urgent kiss. It was vicious, and messy. Lalo swept his tongue over your lips and you opened them without hesitation. A low hum rumbled in his chest, as he tasted you. You laid your hands on his chest, and he tore from your mouth for a moment to speak against your lips, still pecking and licking into your mouth.

“You want to be one of us? A little mouse of a Salamanca?” He rumbled, kissing you again.

You whimpered and nodded as best at you could, “Yes!”

He smirked against your lips and bit at your bottom one as he pulled you closer, “You’ll do what it takes?” Lalo began backing you up, and your legs hit the bed, making you fall back.

“Anything-“ you mumbled breathlessly as he descended upon you, his strong frame caged you in as he leaned down to kiss your jaw down to your neck where he bit and sucked ruthlessly.

“Again.” He rasped against your skin.

“Anything!” You whined, weaving your fingers into his greying hair.

“You’re mine you understand that?” Lalo pulled away and stared right at you; the sight of him so close, and his scent invading every one of your senses had your head go fuzzy. You were his.

“Y-yes papi.” You said without thinking as need took over you.

Lalo’s brow fell, and his face suddenly went serious- you felt worry prickle at you. But then he sat up and on his knees, and began unbuttoning his crisp shirt. “Say that again, Cariño.”

You stared at his fingers as his shirt came apart and you saw his bandage.

“Yes papi.” You repeated yourself.

He groaned satisfactorily deep in his chest, and slipped his shirt off his shoulders and leaned down to to grip the top of your skirt and dragged it down your legs, grinning at your panties. You bashfully went to close your knees but he smiled and tutted you, “No no no, mi princesita, open up for papi…a little more.” He ran a finger down your thigh and flicked it to make a point as you parted them.

He leaned back and reached down to run a finger down your covered slit and barked out an amused little playful laugh when he felt how soaked the material was, watching as the fabric clung to your lips.

“Dulce coñito…”he rumbled.

You may not have been fluent in Spanish, but you knew exactly what he said.

“All for me?” Lalo replaced his finger with his thumb and began rubbing up and down steadily, then stopping to circle around your clit.

You nodded, then he pressed down on your clit gently, and a whimper escaped you.

“Ooh I think she likes that.” He smiled wolfishly down at you. There was nothing you could do to hide your warming cheeks- you were practically glowing as he touched you. This man had just been bleeding on you on the verge of death, and here he was teasing you to near tears.

The man took in every twitch of your thighs, and gasp, storing every bit of information into that calculating brain of his. And you let him. You didn’t hide when you didn’t like something and certainly not when he was driving you crazy. He huffed in annoyance when he couldn’t feel all of your skin against him, and he nearly tore your shirt off of you, and bit and mouthed at the sports bra you had on.

Lalo leaned over you, and devoured your mouth as he finally slipped a long, thick finger inside you. You moaned into the kiss and he chuckled in return.

“Tan sensible, princesita…” he rumbled, and very slowly began to pump in and out of you; the movements matching the pace of his tongue licking into your mouth.

His other hand came up to the nape of your neck where he clenched his fist into your hair and stroked your neck with his thumb. You could feel yourself start to twitch and your muscles grew tighter as he patiently built your orgasm like he was entitled to it. Gently stroking your g-spot and teasing your sensitive clit as it swelled under the pad of his thumb. But then every time you felt yourself start to reach your climax, he would slow, and back off. You whined pitifully into his mouth and he hummed and chuckled.

“Tan impaciente, do I need to teach you manners?” He purred against your mouth.

You shook your head frantically and bit the inside of your lip.

He hummed again, and you felt the vibrations against you. “No…you’re a good girl, eh? Una niña tan buena para mí…” he kissed your temple, and the gesture made your head spin as you keened into his hand.

“Please…” you whispered, and melted when he kissed your nose, continuing his slow pace.

“Look at you…so domesticated like a little dog. Como una pequeña mascota…” he purred.

You blushed, and flicked your eyes away in shame…was he taunting you? Did he think so little of you?

“Ah ah…I like when you look at me, niñita…” he tutted you, and put pressure on your jaw with his thumb as he still cradled your head. You felt his finger pull from you and you suppressed a mewl.

“You’d kill for me. You’d kill for your papi hm?” He goaded you.

You never thought you would say yes to something like that…but you knew that when you fired his gun at that man, you were ready for the bullet to be fatal.

“Yes…” you murmured.

He smiled wolfishly down at you, “Estás loca, niñita.”

Lalo leaned up and away from you, and hissed for a moment. You sat up with him and followed his gaze down to the bandage on his side.

“Are you alright?” You asked quietly, reaching out to touch the area lightly. Lalo snatched your hand and brought it up to his mouth were he sucked one of your fingers into his mouth; your lips parted at the sensation, and with your body so on edge, it only added to the fire inside you.

Then he looked back down and scoffed. “Shit shot.”

You smiled a small smile, then leaned up onto your knees in front of him and watched him closely as you pressed a kiss to his chest. You could feel his heart beating under his skin, and you felt a strange privilege to feel it. You kissed him again, then followed a small trail down to where the bandage was. You looked up at him again; he was watching you intently, his breathing heavy as his thick chest heaved. You held his gaze, and dared to press a kiss right over his wound.

“Mierda…” he rumbled, then you were being wrenched from him and your back hit the bed again. Lalo was almost panting and he opened his belt and pulled it from its loops before throwing it onto the bed beside you. You could only watch as he worked his pants open, not taking his eyes off of you for a second.

You felt pinned to the spot under him, and you grew weak under his heavy, scorching gaze.

“Yours.” You whispered, and spread your legs wider for him. You didn’t know what drew you to say it…but there was a part of you that was so resigned to this man that you couldn’t even think coherently anymore.

Lalo didn’t even stutter his movements as he shucked his pants off. You stared up at him, partially appreciating that you weren’t the only one nude…but somehow you felt even more intimidated with him having nothing on. He was a strong, powerful man. There was no hiding it. A thick, strong chest and tummy, broad shoulders, thick thighs that you had seen pull at his trousers just like his arms strained his shirts.

You felt tiny.

But you didn’t have time to dwell on it as he descended on you. Lalo took each of your wrists in his hands, and pinned you there. You could feel the heavy weight of his cock lay on your stomach between you as he nestled between your thighs.

The tip leaked onto your tummy, and you squirmed against his hold on your wrists as you tried to touch him or hold onto him for dear life, but he kept you there- so vulnerable. Lalo transferred one of your wrists to his other hand and he use his free one to grope down your body, and return to your slick cunt; he slipped a finger inside you again, checking to see that you were still soaked, and he chuckled. You knew you were an even bigger mess than when he had initially teased you.

“Creo que estás goteando.” He chuckled and pulled away from you to glance down as he pulled his fingers from you- a thick line of slick between his fingers and he pulled them apart.

You flushed. Lalo hummed in satisfaction. He had you in the palm of his hand. Literally.

He took his wet hand and worked it over the tip of his cock, and you almost whined at the slick sound. You had gotten an eye-full of his cock when he had stood at the foot of the bed, and you knew he was massive. You could feel him pull his hips away from you as he moved the fat tip down to run it through your folds. Then, as if he couldn’t help himself, Lalo released your wrists and leaned back on his heels to watch himself rub the head over your clit then down the length of your slit, and back up. He rubbed it right over your sensitive bud and you bit your lip to keep from whining.

“C’mon ninita don’t be shy- I know the moustache is a bit much but I promise I’m a really nice guy.” He teased you, then surprised you by dipping the tip inside you. Just a little.

But it was enough to make you lose composure and moan pathetically.

“Ahh there she goes- see? Knew you’d warm up to me.” Lalo’s rough voice filled your ears and you moaned again when he slipped in a little further, one hand still gripping the base of his shaft and the other now on your hip in a bruising grip.

You stared up at him helplessly, hands weaved into the sheet below you.

“Precioso…” he purred almost to himself.

The endearment had you flush even more, and he started to catch onto the correlation. His face no longer held any amusement, but instead a ravenous focus sat handsomely in the deep lines of his skin.

He pulled the tip out again, then pushed in further until it popped inside you completely- a small bulge there at your entrance. Your breathing came heavily and you leaned up a little to watch.

Lalo pulled out of you again, then slipped inside you a little more…so slow and so patient. You felt as if you might melt into the bed or combust as he fucked himself into you, gently stretching you open to fit his girth. Your body welcomed him, albeit nervously as your muscles clenched every so often. But he would ease you with gentle coos and lean down to you to kiss your nose. “That’s it…there you go, princesita, you can take papi…all the way.”

You thought you might die when he was in far enough to stroke against your gspot. You could feel yourself tighten impossibly more around him, and he huffed out an amused laugh as your body threatened to force him out. Lalo pulled from your heat again, watching as your sensitive flesh clung to him, and the round bump that formed in your tummy where his cock was nestled inside you; then his gaze was on yours and he snapped his fingers to ensure your attention. You refocused your eyes and stared up at him.

“Eyes on me.” He murmured.

You nodded, and stared at his glittering black eyes as they bore into yours. Then, he began slipping himself back inside you…so slowly. You could already feel the extreme sensations starting to ripple through you, and as you watched the older man, it was like he knew even before you that you were on the precipice of your orgasm. You almost started to plead with him as he patiently eased the thick shaft into you, the weight of it dragging against every sensitive spot inside you until his hips met yours, and his thick tummy ground against your clit…and you saw stars.

“Cum on papi,cariño…” he purred, “Cum all over me.” He kissed your top lip.

And you let go.

An unrestrained whine tore from your throat as your legs shook and your cunt clenched down on him like a vice. Lalo could feel the sudden rush of your cum over his cock and he continued to grind into you as you rode it out. You didn’t know when, but you felt his warm hands over yours; his fingers locked with yours. Your fingers dug into his knuckles, and your back arched up off the mattress as he patiently fucked you through your orgasm, shallowly pulling out then grinding back inside you.

You could barely hear or see. Everything was cloudy and ringing around you as the extreme pleasure ebbed away and your body went lax.

“There she is.” Lalo grinned, and kissed you. His tongue parted your lips and you wrenched your hands from his and wrapped them around his neck, but you flinched when you touched his bandage there.

Lalo hummed and put your arms back around his neck, “Rip them open ninita, c’mon.” He grinned down at you, and started thrusting into you. There was an obscene sound that came from between you thanks to your powerful orgasm and your cheeks warmed.

“Woah!” He smiled and pushed into you, humming at the feeling of your slick warmth hugging around him. Lalo sighed and leaned over you fullly now, bracing himself on his strong forearms. He sighed, and the air fanned over your face.

“Dios te sientes bien.” The older man purred, and kissed down your neck to your shoulder where he nipped at the skin as he increased his pace. Your body began to bounce under him.

Lalo slipped his hand back under the nape of your neck and held you still as he sucked at your skin and bit down possessively. You whimpered and squirmed but his iron grip held you there. As he slowly released you, he licked at your skin and kissed along your collar. His chest heaved against yours and he returned to your mouth and engulfed your lips again; you parted them without thinking now, and let his warm tongue stroke yours.

Then, he pulled away slowly and stared down at you scorchingly. “Open that pretty mouth.” He gasped.

You parted your lips, and Lalo spat onto your waiting tongue, then leaned back down and kissed you again, hard. You moaned down his throat and he groaned in return. A startling need for eachother had seeded itself in both of you.

He had you so distracted with his mouth that you barely noticed as he started rutting into you until his kiss slowed. Lalo hunkered over you, almost folding you in half and he stared hammering into you fast. There was nothing but the sound of his flesh plaping against yours in the warm motel room, and while you were sensitive, you didn’t want it to stop. In fact, you could feel your sensitive cunt start to tighten around him again, and you were helpless to stop it or even tell him, though he seemed very well aware as he grinned down at you.

“That’s it- that’s it.” He purred, and you let him use you as he needed. His soft tummy impacted your clit with each thrust and you could only babble with need. “I’m- I’m- la- f-f-fu- I’m-“ you couldn’t even get a word out at your second orgasm hit you like a train, and Lalo chuckled low in his chest as he felt you cum for him.

You gripped around him tight, and Lalo groaned low at the sensation. He thrusted a few more times, each one more sloppy and harder than the last until he pushed into you all the way, squishing his tip up against your cervix and let his weight down onto you as he came deep inside you. You rolled your hips with him as he slowed his pace and ground against you. Lalo hummed and panted into your neck, and you held him tight against your body as his thick cum filled you up. You could feel your tummy warm up as he emptied into you, rope after hot rope he coated your insides until some of the sticky liquid leaked out the sides where his cock plugged you.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you were terrified that he might have ripped his stitches, but in that moment you didn’t dare say a word. You knew he’d wave you off.

The older man slowly stilled, and stayed inside you comfortably. His heat was comforting, and you clung to his back and stroked his hair gently. Lalo very slowly leaned up off of you, kissing along your collar to your cheeks, and rolled to the side so he wouldn’t crush you. Then, he shuffled something over to you, and lifted your butt up. It was a pillow.

When you looked at him as he raised your hips up, he only sent you a wink.

You couldn’t form a sentence, so you just laid there for a moment before you felt his arm come around your head and pull you into his side. You curled in there, and rested your head on his chest. Your heart beat wracked your entire body- everything pulsed. You couldn’t move. And Lalo noticed how immobile you were.

“What? A mans never made you cum before?” He chuckled. But when you were silent, he looked at you properly. “No…really? That little prick never made a little thing like you cum?” He pushed and you wished the earth would swallow you up.

“No…” you managed to force out.

“God…we have a lot of catching up to do then!”

You stared at him in horror as your body was still recovering from what he had just done to you. And he laughed. “I’m joking- now come here and kiss me. I almost died yesterday y’know.”

You huffed, and leaned up to press a gentler kiss to his mouth. Then leaned back down. You couldn’t even hold your head up.

He kissed your hair, and ran his hand up and down your arm. “Mi pequeña loca.” Lalo purred.

“Mi viejo loco.” You mumbled, and Lalo sat up and away from you enough to look down at you.

You looked at him sheepishly.

“Mocosa.” He smiled, and you returned it.

Lalo enjoyed seeing you like that. Relaxed. Flushed. Sweaty. Fucked out, blissed out, swollen lipped, hair a mess. All for him.

He sighed after a moment, and smacked your hip. “I’m gonna eat you if we don’t get some fucking food.”

You nodded. “What do you have in mind? Fried chicken?” You quipped.

Lalo did a double take, and stared at you dead serious, then burst into laughter. “I knew you were funny.”

You smiled a little and toyed with a little hair on his arm. “How much longer are you going to be here…in Albuquerque?” You mumbled.

“Eh…we’ll stay here a little longer. Keep an eye on my tio…then after that? Think you deserve some real food.” He smiled.

Your brows furrowed and you pulled away to look at him.

“You said you’ve never been to Mexico right?” He said, tracking your eyes.

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Entonces está decidido...after that…I think we could use a Uh…mouth cleanser?” He squinted.

Your heart throbbed still his use of “we”.

“Pallet cleanser?” You offered and he snapped his finger and pointed at you. You smiled.

“Yes! That. Tired of this shit city…you know, I hear Germany is nice.” And he grinned.

He knew he had you.

He embodied the chaos you had grown used to, but portrayed it so calmly. He made you feel safe, and made that little girl you thought you had lost inside you sing. Whatever it was that the two of you shared, you were drawn to it like moths to a flame.

And you knew it.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[vinnytotherescue]

What makes us human (lies of p x female reader)

What is it that makes us human?

            Is it our heart, pumping warm red liquid into our bodies to keep us alive one more day? Is it our lungs feeding us oxygen and pushing our chest to move in an ongoing life-long choreography? Or is it our brain controlling our body, organs, and mind enough to answer this question? Is it maybe something simpler? Like the warmth we exude by simply existing or our curious eyes moving around ready to capture a new memory.

            Unfortunately, there is never one answer to this question since every human has a different view on this topic. A doctor would agree that a beating muscle is enough, but a philosopher would argue that there is more to being human than a single organ.

            Responding to this question becomes an even bigger hassle when said person is no human but a highly intelligent puppet. From the moment Pinocchio was created his very first goal was to become human, whatever that meant. But as time went on he began searching what it really suggests. The more he investigated the more conflicted he got with the inconclusive answers and their variety. His second solution to his problem was posing this question to the residents of Hotel Krat, an even bigger hassle as he later noted. Antonia was the first victim of his complicated question and the least helpful.

“What makes us human? Oh, my dear sweet boy, that’s a difficult question, isn’t it? It could be anything really, from having working organs to being able to feel”

            Next was Lady Sophia, his presumed advisor through his long and tiring journey of fighting and killing automatons around Krat. Her answer was better but not exactly what Pinocchio hoped for.

“Being human is such a peculiar concept. We are able to react to situations and feel different emotions like anger, joy, and love. If you meant physically now, we are given organs and whole systems that make us operate. But when you think about it, we are not that different from puppets. Are we? I mean you do have operating systems maybe not  as complicated as our own but the thing you lack is proper emotion”

            As Pinocchio grew closer to becoming human, he did have the opportunity to feel certain emotions, but never the ones he heard about. The feeling of anger and dread was not what popped into his mind when he thought of being human. What he longed for was joy, happiness, and most importantly love. Would he ever be able to feel love?

            That’s when you came into the picture. A young woman trying to escape this hell hole named Krat. It was only supposed to be a two-day trip to the city to meet some friends when that turned into a full-blown nightmare. How she managed to survive that long was a question in itself since she had no weapons and skills to properly use any. Simply hiding in boutiques and abandoned apartments was her way of surviving. Leaving the city of course was out of the question since she was evidently lost.

             Gemini was the first to notice her hiding in a cabinet as they ventured into another seemingly empty apartment. Unfortunately for her, the noise that came out of her mouth as a piece of glass fell on her foot was not subtle but thank god it wasn’t a normal automaton that found her.

            Pinocchio slowly walked toward the source of the sound and when he stood outside of the cabinet, he simply tugged it open. A kick to the face was not what he expected to say the least. Stumbling back, he was quick to compose himself and grab her arm as she desperately tried to escape his iron grip. Her kicking and punching immediately stopped when she heard his soft velvety voice next to her ear. Her eyes widened and her head snapped to look at her captor or maybe her savior. His eyes were bluer than the summer sky and the freckles adorning his pale face resembled all sorts of constellations.

Reassurance filled her chest for once in those long two weeks as she stared at the seemingly human person behind her.

“It’s ok I got you”.

            Pinocchio felt the need to bring her to the hotel since she was the first living human he managed to find “roaming’ the streets. That happened a few months ago and since then the puppet’s interest never left. He would always inspect her, her humanity. The way she moved as if dancing when trying to decide which book to read, the way she bit her lip when she was thinking, or the wide smile she would give to the cat every time she crossed paths with her. What made her so human?

            What made him wonder though was the peculiar warmth he felt in his chest each time he was close to her. After every trip to Krat, he felt a small change in him, giving him hope that he was becoming more and more human. But the feeling that deeply resided in his chest was still a question left unanswered. Could he feel something? But he is still a puppet, of course, he had a fair share of human traits as time moved on but was having emotions one of them? Talking of questions, he never got to ask her the one that posed to the rest of the Hotel Krat residents. What made them human, what would make him human?

            It was nearly midnight in the hotel and (y/n) was immersed in a book she got from the library a while ago. She lay on the couch her eyes scanning the yellowing pages without a care in the world around her, and the boy that entered the dimly lit room. He moved toward her making his footsteps purposely louder as if not to scare her. Her eyes though stayed put on the letter-filled pages.  P walked until he was in her field of vision, maybe a little closer than what she anticipated. His face was right next to her as he bent down to take a look at the book she was reading. The moment her head snapped to the left she came face to face with her crush.

            “P-Pinocchio t-too close!” her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink as she tried to put some distance between them, to her disappointment. Pinocchio only stared in confusion.

            “Sorry did I scare you?” he slowly moved to sit next to the shrieking girl on the couch patiently waiting for her response.

            “No of course not” she tried to put her brave face on, but his piercing blue eyes only made her more vulnerable “I was just surprised to see you that close that’s it” folding her arms over her chest and putting the book to the side she tried to focus on P’s face. There was always a look of confusion on it that she found adorable, but she would never say that out loud.

“Can I help you with something P?” her voice was soft once again and brought that warm feeling back into his chest. P examined her face and tilted his head.

“Can I ask you a question?” (y/n) was taken aback for a moment but managed to compose herself quite fast.

            “Yes of course P, what is it” The way his name rolled off her tongue so effortlessly hypnotized Pinocchio. It was like a siren was calling his name.

            “What makes someone a human?” (y/n) certainly did not expect a question like that late at night. He searched his eyes for some sign that maybe he learned how to joke but nothing. They just sone bright with curiosity as he awaited her response.

            “Well, that’s a difficult question P you know that right?” his eyes suddenly turned sad as he turned to look at the fireplace. Her heart broke the moment she saw that, and she was quick to come back.

            “But if you really need to know I will tell you what I think” A small smile took place on his lips as he nodded his head vigorously.

The girl held her chin between her fingers her eyebrows scrunched up as she tried to figure out how to proceed. What made them human? She never really thought about that before.  

            “Well, I don’t know for sure, to be honest. To me, a human is not someone with blood coursing through their body or someone who needs to breathe air. Of course, you may think that’s important but what makes us human is how we act. People whom we learned to call humans many times have done things that only a monster would do. To me, these are not humans. Humans are kind people who help others. People who would care about someone in need. People who will not hesitate to provide help. Their curiosity and their positive active stance in life are what makes them human”.

            P’s eyes were so focused on her, and a look of admiration found its place on his face. Knowing immediately what the next question would be as she saw his mouth open, she responded.

            “And yes Pinocchio, to me you are human. You did everything a human would do. I don’t care whether your heart is metal or soft, whether you breathe or not, you have shown me all kindness and showed many emotions that other humans haven’t.”            The warmth in the puppet’s chest got stronger and stronger. Him? A human? His metal heart was filled with something he could not explain but he loved it. His smile grew wider and before he could control his body his arms were tightly wrapped around her. (Y/n) came out of her trance in mere seconds as she felt his cold body on hers. Her cheeks burned red and her heart beat like crazy. She tried to keep her body under control so that he didn’t notice but to no avail. Pulling away from her hope returned to his eyes.

            “That means that you can answer my other question as well!” before she could get the chance to interfere, he started talking.

            “There is always when I’m around you this warmth in my chest that won't disappear. It’s so strong and I want to be close to you to feel it more and more” (y/n)’s eyes widened in shock as she stared into his cerulean eyes.

            “You mean love?” her heart was beating so loud that it was hurting her ears. Pinocchio had found out about love in all the books that he read but he never thought that he would be able to experience this as a puppet. Maybe he was closer to becoming human after all.

            “I love you?” that came like a question at the beginning “I love you”. P locked eyes with her and waited patiently for her reaction like a lost puppy. The realization hit the girl like a brick and time stopped for a while. A while that made P think that he said something wrong.

            “Did I say something wrong” His metal heart seemed to stop for a minute. For once in his life, he felt lost. The girl suddenly jumped in his arms sending him right down on the couch. Her smile was so wide and small giggles escaped her mouth.

            “I love you too silly.”

For once in his short life Pinocchio could answer how it feels to be human, what makes him human.

The end

Thank you everyone for reading! i haven't written in a while so im a bit rusty but i had to write for P im literally in love with him :')

[aizawasbrazybaby]

❥𓂃𓏧Freak Like Me

𖦹Warnings: Corrupt Cop!Nanami x Fem!Reader, Pet names? (Calls reader Beautiful a lot), Semi-public (car sex), p in v sex, Oral (fem receiving), Very brief mention of blood, Cervix kissing, Dubcon (consent is implied but he doesn’t ask before touching reader)

𖦹Word Count: 1.7k (I had to restrain myself from making it longer🥲)

🫧: Hello everyone sorry for any mistakes I always try to proof read at least twice before posting. Also I’ll be attempting to upload here and WP on Fridays at 5pm est.🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

Summaryᐕ: It was supposed to be a late night traffic stop…only he was off duty and everyone knows what happens after dark.

Air moved deeply through your lungs harshly exiting your nose. Those fluorescent blue and red lights flashed obnoxiously bright, forcing your eyes to shut into a squint. The officer’s tall figure strutted over to your old compact sedan that was honestly hanging on by the grace of god herself. His blonde hair and white skin contrasted the chilled bitter darkness. Fingers tapped the window and signed for it to be rolled down. Your eyes hit the back of your head as you followed the lawful command.

And holy fuck…

A chill ran up your spine. He looked like the finest piece of art man could make- so much so you had to do a double take at the patrol car to see if it was the real deal. That this wasn’t an elaborate prank by some shitty tv show or idiotic influencers that didn’t know how illegal impersonating an officer was.

“Pretty late for a lady like you to be out here dontcha think,” he glanced at the bloody scrubs in your passenger seat, “long night?”

“That easy to tell?” your fingers rubbed at the dark circles under both eyes, “sorry but is your bodycam on?”

A strange mix of a laugh and hum rumbled in his throat, “license and registration ma’am.”

A demand.

Mint intertwined in his cool breath as he let out an annoyed sigh waiting for you to gather your things. As if you initiated the traffic stop on him. He softly snatched at the forms you handed to him.

“What has you out here so late, nurse ____?” His gaze flickered back to the passenger seat.

“Doctor,” you corrected.

“What?”

“It’s Dr._____ I’m not a nurse.”

He grinned, “well, many apologies for my ignorance.” You looked in his narrow eyes and something shifted in you. In both of you. Your pants felt almost suffocating on your throbbing pussy as that honey-like essence pooled to your center.

“I-I just got off work at the hospital,” you pointed behind you, “third twelve hour shift this week. I pulled over to get some sleep, heard somewhere that driving tired is as bad as driving drunk.”

Why’s his stare gotta be so intense? Your mind raced. Eyes lowering to his beautifully plump lips. Watching his tongue swipe teasingly slow over the bottom one before it was held between his teeth.

Good fucking God.

“Have you been drinking tonight?” You could have swore a glimpse of a grin flashed just as quickly as it had disappeared . His calloused fingers softly traced your jawline, thumb running across your lips. A line was crossed. Several lines. But shit it’s been so long since you’d been caressed. And the man before you was so alluring. You leaned into Nanami’s touch- your eyes fluttering shut for a second before burning into his.

“No, officer.”

“Why don’t you step out for me beautiful,” his voice low and seductive. Embarrassment burned through you from how quickly you obeyed. Horny and stupid. Desperate and horny. He looked you up and down then grabbed your hands. Cold to the touch but you didn’t pull away, placing them behind your head, “Lock your fingers.”

Holy hell he was close.

You could feel the heat emanating from his mouth. Circling you he stopped behind, pressing against your back. His belt. The service belt was nowhere to be found. Pressure started at the wrist and worked its way to your waist. Outlining the shape. His fingers trailed over your breasts. so. very. slow. Each finger took its time feeling the buds that hardened under.

Desperation made itself known from a slight gasp that morphed into a whimper, “shit.”

Nanami groaned in response. He walked back around, hands lowering to the fat of your ass gripping and squeezing. He placed a kiss on your cheek and nipped at your jaw.

“Sir,” you glanced at the abandoned strip of road, “not out here.”

His hand pulled to the front rubbing your pussy through your thin sweats. His digits worked their way inside feeling how wet you were. Snatching a moan from your throat that your own ears struggled to recognize. No panties. A bold move on your end.

“Get in the backseat,” his teeth caught on your bottom lip. An arm rounded your waist pulling you away from your car before opening the door for you. He blocked your head from hitting the top of the doorway like he would if sticking you in his squad truck.

Before you could speak your sweats were around your ankles. His eyes looked back at you as he kissed up your thigh, “want me to stop?”

“No!” Your voice was under a shout. Loud. Desperate. And beyond fucking horny for the stranger with his upper half leaning between your legs. The other hanging out the car.

He chuckled, “okay doctor.” His tongue ran up your slit catching the enticing liquid that glazed parts of your skin. Ecstasy swam through your veins and straight to where the man was now sucking your sensitive clit. Hands sliding through his healthy locks he moaned on your cunt. You hissed at the feeling.

Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

You sat your head up seeing Nanami dig in your pocket and pull out your phone. He flashed the screen and your heart skipped a beat. “Don’t.” From his shit eating grin you knew he wasn’t gonna listen. He firmly pressed the green answer and tossed you the phone.

“Hey JESS,” you stifled the moan that clawed to be set free. The cop pushed your thighs apart, thrusting his middle and ring fingers inside. You squeezed your eyes shut at the sudden intrusion. Savoring that pain spiked with pleasure.

Is that mommy? Your six year old asked sleepily in the background.

Hey Miss.____ I was just checkin on ya. It’s pretty late just wanted to see if everything was okay

“Y-yes hon everything’s fine just got off work a bit late.”

Nanami unbuttoned his slacks, releasing his erection. Lining himself to your pussy that clenched around nothing. He smiled from ear to ear slowly inching himself deep.

That’s good. Baby Kiri keeps askin for ya wanna say good night before I put her to bed?

“No!” you lowered your tone, taking a fistful of Kento’s shirt, “no need I’ll s-see her when I g-get home.”

He took the phone muting and keeping it on speaker, “lemme hear you beautiful,” his pace increased. Squelching and your squeals filled the car, “fuck darling n-nice and loud. That’s it.”

“Nanami,” you whimpered, “fuck pleaseee.” You dragged.

“Uh uh Kento when I’m fucking you,” he smirked.

Why not? Hello? ___ are you there? Is everything okay?

He thrust one last time before plunging his cock deep inside. And fuck. Fuck. fuck. fuck. His tip was pressing against your cervix. Your legs started to shake slightly but enough where he noticed. And you clenching tight around him had his eyes rolling back and breathing heavy.

Unmute. “I-I’m fine Jess. Just in a bit of a s-situation right now.”

His hips rocked slowly bringing that tight coil closer. His teeth glided over your throat, “gonna drive me crazy hang up that damn phone,” you could sense his lust from his deep whisper.

Should I send someone out there? What’s happening?

“No need, ‘mtaking good care of her,” he growled at the nanny.

Who is this? Where’s ___??

“Gonna have to, ah, call you b-back.” You tried your best not to let it out but that moan slipped through and no doubt she picked up. Nanami took your phone tossing it atop those dirty scrubs.

Oh…ohh, it clicked. She hung up immediately.

He slammed his hips into yours. Faster. Stronger. Until that coil grew so tight in the both of you that you were shouting each other's names as you came. His hot cum filling you up so full and you leaving your cream all over him that is splattered just below his belly button. Drained of all his energy and stamina he rocked into you riding out the high to both of your orgasms.

“Kento,” you said breathlessly, “thank you.” Of course he didn’t know what you were thanking him for. Didn’t know you’d been so deprived from a man’s touch. You craved some kind of sexual interaction. Didn’t know he relieved so much of the pent up stress from work and being a single mother.

“Any time beautiful.” He panted but managed to keep a smile on his handsome face. He pulled out looking for something, anything to help clean you up. When his eyes landed on you, you pointed to the front seat.

“Got a few baby wipes in the glove compartment.”

He nodded. You watched as he climbed out zippering his pants as his head fell back. Taking in the cool night breeze. God he was something to behold. Walking around the front he took out the pack of wipes and jogged back to you.

“Does anything hurt? Are you alright?” He asked back to his monotone as he wiped your thighs and intimate parts.

“I’m alright.”

“Think you can walk?” he shimmied your sweats back up, shoving something in the pocket. Before you could even answer he pulled you to the edge of the car by your legs making you yelp. He held you like a bride before placing you in the driver seat.

“Hope so.” You said quietly. His hand grabbed the back of your head through the window pulling you in a kiss. Long and passionate. If you knew anything it was that this man was gonna be the death of you. You felt yourself getting wet all over again.

“G’night…officer Nanami.” You looked deeply in his eyes.

“Get home safe.” He didn’t smile or break the contact. He climbed back in his car shutting off the lights and starting his car back up. Digging in your pocket you pulled out his business card that had his number written neatly in blue pen on the backside. Your mouth gaped open and looked out your window as he was passing you. Driving slow he seen the card in your hand and winked at you. That shit eating grin back on his lips.

Staring daggers back at the card you wondered how long you were really out for.

[footballfanficwriter]

Absent Father

Summary:where the reader is about to give birth and Jude is not home

"When are you going to be back?" I ask as I watch him pack his bag

"In a couple of months Love" he says

"Oh"

"But don't worry it'll be over before we know it"

"Can't you pull out of the squad and say you've got an injury or something"

"You know I can't do that, they'll examine my body to check my story out"

I sigh

"Hey, it's not that bad, we'll call eachother and face time, we're gonna be ok"

"You sound like you're trying to convince yourself"

"I'm trying to convince the both of us"

"Jude you know that I'm due any day now right"

"I know"

"And you won't be there by my side holding my hand or getting to witness the birth of your child" I say trying to hold back my tears

"I know baby, and I'm sorry"

"Sometimes I wish you were Just Jude Bellingham, not Jude Bellingham the Real Madrid and England Star

He stops packing and looks at me

"Sometimes I wish that as well darling, but that's not how it is"

"Yeah, I'm going to the kitchen to make a snack"

"Ok"

I leave the room and walk to the kitchen to make something to eat

As I'm busy I hear Jude come down the stairs with his bag

He places it down and walks up to me and towers over me, places a kiss on my forehead and bends down to kiss my belly

"I have to go" he says as he stands up

I come in for a hug and hug him very tightly as if by doing so I can just pause time and stop it from moving

He hugs me tightly as well indicating he doesn't wanna let go

As we're hugging the tears start coming out and I don't even try to fight them this time, i'm silently crying, and pretty sure my tears have now stained his shirt

He pulls away, looks me in the eyes and wipes the tears from my face

"I love you"

"I love you"

He kisses my forehead one more time walks to his bag and heads for the door where his driver waits for him

A week later:

I'm lying on the sofa watching a series that I'm not really paying attention to, all I'm thinking about is how scared I am and how I won't have anyone in the delivery room with me, and the person that I do want to be there is in another country

It's been difficult to talk and Face time with Jude, because he's either very busy or he's too tired to talk, if he's not training, he's doing press, if it's not press it's games, if it's not games he's out with his teammates, there's just always something happening and it makes me wonder if he's  trying to avoid me, because if he wasn't ignoring me then he would at least make the time to try and talk to me, it's always me reaching out and calling him but he never does the same

The only interactions we have nowadays is when he posts something and I like and comment under his post and he'll just reply to my comment

I honestly don't know what to do but I just keep telling myself that he's busy and can't talk

I stand up and walk upstairs to get my phone to check if I've gotten any call from Jude

The minute I grab my phone from my bed there's a warm liquid that I feel on my legs

I look down and see water on the floor

I start freaking out a bit but then compose myself and walk to my wardrobe to grab my bag

And walk downstairs and get into the car and start driving to the hospital

When I arrive at the hospital I ask the receptionist for my doctor, but she tells me that in order to see her I have to have an appointment

"Lady listen to me, I'm a Pregnant Woman that's about to give birth, are you really gonna tell me to wait to see my Doctor?"

"I'm sorry I was not aware, I'll go get her"

She walks down a passage and makes a left knocking on a door, 2 minutes later she returns with Doctor Ashley Johnson

"Mrs. Bellingham, what are you doing here?, Where's is your Husband?"

"On a business Trip" I say breathing heavily

"Can someone get this woman a wheelchair?"

A few minutes later I'm in a hospital gown and walking around my hospital room trying to Dilate myself enough to give birth to this baby and Doctor Johnson holding my hand

"So where is your husband?"

"He's away, on a Business trip"

"Your Mother?"

"We don't really get along, let's just say she's not happy with the decisions I made in my life"

"Like?"

"Marring my Husband"

"What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing, she just didn't want me to marry someone who is from a different country number one and from a different culture"

"Your mother in law?"

"She moved back to England to be with my Father in law and brother in law"

"Siblings?"

"They are all married and even if I were to call them they are too far away"

"So I guess it's just you and me then" she says

I nod my head realizing that no one from my family is actually coming

"Yep"

After 10 hours of walking around and trying to Dilate Doctor Johnson informs me that I'm ready to give birth

She calls the rest of her team to come and assist and after two hours

A baby Boy is born

My body is tired and I just feel absolutely exhausted

"Mrs. Bellingham, we're going to clean your baby boy, you just get some rest we'll bring him right back"

"Ok" I say falling asleep

The next day I wake up feeling much better than the previous day, I turn my head to see my baby sleeping peacefully and Doctor Johnson walks into the room

"Hi, how are we doing in here?"

"We're ok, he's asleep"

"Have you spoken to your family yet?"

"No, I haven't, I'll wait for him to wake up first, then I'll make calls"

"And a name, have you decided on a name yet?"

"No I wanna call my husband first then we'll discuss it"

"Ok"

Doctor Johnson stays with me for some time until the baby wakes up

"I'll leave you to it then"

"Thank you"

I grab my phone and the first people I call are my Four sisters

They all get excited and squeal as they see the baby for the first time

"What's his name?" One of them ask

"I don't know, I'm gonna call Jude and we'll talk about it"

"Aww, he's so cute"

"Thank you"

"Congratulations sis, we're so proud of you, we wish we could be there"

I shed some tears and tell them it's fine and that we'll all meet up eventually

The next person I call is Denise.

"Hello love"

"Hi Mom, you alright?"

"Yeah, how are you"

"Oh we're fine, but I have something to show you"

I slightly turn the phone to Show her the baby and she looks in shock

"Mark, Jobe come look"

After some time Mark and Jobe appear on the screen

"Oh God he's so adorable"

"Are you ok though love"

"Yeah, I will be" I say

"What's his name?"

"I still need to call Jude, then we'll discuss it, and then we'll let everyone know

"Ok love, take care of yourself ok"

"Ok"

"We love you"

"Love you too"

The next person I call is Jude, hoping he'll pick up but he doesn't instead he sends a text

Hubby: what's up?

Me: can you call, it's important

Hubby: what is it?

Me: Jude can you pls just answer your phone it's really important

Hubby: just text me, I'm busy rn

Me: with what?

Hubby: With Trent, Madders and Hendo

Me: so you can't just excuse yourself for some time, I'm telling you that this is important why are you being difficult?"

Hubby: no actually I can't excuse myself, we're playing UNO, and I'm losing like hell

Me: oh so you would rather play a game of UNO than to hear what I have to say?

Hubby: just text it to me, I'm sure it's not a big deal

Me: if you consider the fact that you have a son not important then Yeah, it's not important

Hubby: what 🤯 are you being serious, you game birth?

Me: yeah but don't let me stop you from your game, it's most definitely more important than the birth of your son

                           Hubby ❤

                            Calling...

I decline the call

Hubby: babe answer the phone

Me: The baby is asleep, I'll call you when he wakes up, if I answer it'll wake him up

Hubby: oh c'mon don't be like that

Me: I'll call you later, get back to your game

I place my phone next to me and admire my newly born baby boy who is fully awake

"Hey Babe, welcome to the world, I'm gonna love you so much more than anything in the world"

He only giggles and cuddles further into my arms and it makes me Coo

2 months later:

Today is the day Jude comes back and to say I'm excited is an understatement we never had the discussion of the Baby's name so I just decided it Myself

And I Decided on Jamie

Ever since Jamie's birth Jude has been calling a lot more often and calling to check on us every day, which is good because then he won't miss that many Moments

Jamie is growing so fast it feels like it was just yesterday when it was just the two of us cuddling in a hospital bed, now he can crawl

Jude should be landing in a few hours and Jamie and I are preparing something to have for dinner, hopefully Jude will be here in time for dinner

Jamie however is on top of the counter grabbing things and putting them in his mouth while I prepare dinner

After making dinner, I get Jamie cleaned up and into his pajamas

And I carry him downstairs where we'll sit and wait for Jude

I'm so excited because we're about to have our first dinner as a family also adding the fact that I haven't seen Jude in almost three months

20:00( 8pm)

Jamie and I are sitting in the dinning room waiting for Jude to come home

21:00( 9pm)

Jamie has fallen asleep on my chest

22:00 ( 10pm)

Jamie is now asleep in this crib and I'm waiting for Jude while doing the dishes and packing away all the table decor that I've put out

23:00 (11:00 pm)

Fast asleep in bed

00:00 ( 12:00pm)

01:00 am

The door to the house opens and I hear Jude walk up the stairs and towards our room, the door opens and I hear him sigh and take his clothes off leaving him in his trunks

He gets into bed and kisses my shoulder

"Hello my love" he says in a husky voice

"I know you're awake, you're a light sleeper, I know you heard me come in"

I shrug him off and try to make myself comfortable on the bed

"What's wrong, are you not going to greet back"

"Hi"

"Is that all I get?"

"Yeah"

"Why are you upset i haven't seen you in 2 months and the first time I come back you give me a cold shoulder?"

"Exactly we haven't seen eachother in 2 months, and you couldn't even get home on time for dinner like you promised"

"Oh, you know I thought I told you that I was gonna be late, because Trent wanted to party for a bit before we were all headed home because we wouldn't see eachother in a long time"

"Does Trent have a two month old  baby boy who he hasn't seen ever since his birth and a wife who gave birth on her own  waiting for him at home?"

"No"

"Do you?"

"Yes"

"So please explain to me because I must be losing my mind, you had two months, two months with these people "your sheriffs" to laugh and share moments, yet your two month old son has not even shared a single moment with you and you still put your teammates before him to make moments with them and you don't even have one with your son"

He is quiet

"So is it wrong for me to assume that from now on your international teammates and club teammates will forever be the first choice no matter what?"

"No babe, you and James are the most important thing in my life and will forever be my first"

"I can't even look at you right now"

"You were not there when he was born, when we were suppose to name him , i ended up naming him myself because I had to put something on the birth certificate, you weren't there when he started crawling and now you said the wrong name yet he's your son"

"Is his name not James?"

"If you had answered your phone on that day we would have named him together" I say getting out of bed and grabbing my gown

"And his name is Jamie" I say walking out of the room and walking to Jamie's room to sleep there

The next morning I'm woken up by Jamie's cries

I walk to him and pick him out of his crib and walk to the Kitchen to find Jude making Breakfast

"Morning babe"

"What are you doing?"

"Making breakfast, I'm making French toast, still your favorite right?"

"Yeah"

"Great, have a seat it'll be ready in just a few minutes"

Jamie lays his head on my shoulder as he looks at Jude almost as if he's asking who is the guy in our Kitchen making food

He's uncomfortable

"Hey it's ok, that's your dad" I whisper into his ear and kiss his head

I walk to the dinning table and put Jamie on my lap where he stares at me and shows his gums that are without teeth

I smile down at him and shower him with kisses and he giggles

In that moment Jude walks to us and almost  immediately Jamie's head goes on my chest and he stops giggling

"Here you are"

"Thanks" I say

He takes a seat across me and looks at Jamie and sends him a small wave, but it only makes Jamie force himself further into my chest

Jude gives me a sad look and I look back at him

He clears his throat and breaks the uncomfortable silence

"So how have you been?"

"Fine, yeah I've been fine, you?"

"Yep same just really tired"

"Yeah"

The awkward silence is among us again and we eat in silence

"Fuck" he says under his breath

"How much have I missed?" He asks

"A lot more than you can imagine" I reply

"Baby, I am so sorry, when you said that I missed so much I didn't know you meant it like that to the point where my own son doesn't recognize me"

"Yeah"

"How can I make up for it?"

"I wouldn't know either Jude, Jamie is a baby, he doesn't comprehend what's happening, it not like you can just throw the words I'm sorry to him and he'll forgive you just like that"

"You're not helping, I'm asking for solutions not for you to make me feel worse than I already do"

"Well you wouldn't be feeling like this if you had been there number 1, if you had answered your phone so we could name him together and if you had made more time to talk to us"

"I called you every day"

"Did you call me when I was a week from giving birth, huh, when our only interaction would be on Social media where I was liking pictures and commenting and you were liking or replying to my comments"

"I called you guys every day, to find out how you were doing"

"For five minutes, you can't really say anything in five minutes"

"I was tired"

"But you were never too tired to go out with your teammates, right?, all that time you spent with them, could have been used to get to know your son, given how difficult it was to be there for him when he was born"

"So what, you wanted me to stay in my hotel room and be left out while everyone was enjoying themselves?"

"If you couldn't do it for me then you could have at least done it for Jamie, you were an absent father, and it's not my fault that after I tried to get you involved in his life and you refused and now he doesn't even know you"

He's quiet and just continues eating his food

After having breakfast Jamie and i walk to the Kitchen and i get started on the dishes while He sits next me with his favorite chew toy that keeps him behaving

Jude walks in

"Let me take him" he says

He goes to pick Jamie up and Jamie starts crying

I immediately leave the dishes and walk to them

"Here take over the dishes, I'll take him

"No it's fine, he'll be fine"

"No Jude let go of him, I need to feed him he hasn't been fed yet"

He let's go of Jamie and I walk to his room to feed him

After 2 hours Jamie falls asleep for his afternoon nap

And I walk to the living room to watch some TV only to find Jude watching TV

I take a seat and Jude pauses his show

"Is he ok?"

"Yeah, he's asleep"

"That's good"

"Mhm"

"Y/n, I'm sorry, I know that the past 2 months have not been easy for you and that you were scared when you had to give birth to Jamie, because I wasn't there for you both"

"It's fine, you were working"

"Yeah but that's not an excuse, I feel horrible, I feel like I'll never get to have a relationship with my son if things go on like this"

"Don't say that Jude, Jamie will get use to you, eventually, maybe not tomorrow or next week, but eventually"

"You were right, if I made the time then we wouldn't be here right now having this conversation"

"True, but you made a mistake and you are rectifying it, now you know what to do and what not to next time"

He smiles at me and I return the smile

"Thank you"

"You're welcome"

He scoots closer to me and places his arm around my shoulder and I lay my head on his

"I've missed you so much"

"I've missed you as well"

"Can you believe it, we're actually Parents now"

"Right, times like these are gonna be fewer, where it's just the two of us bringe watching Movies and series"

"That's true, we're gonna be so occupied, it's crazy"

"Yep"

"I love you"

"I love you too"

He kisses my forehead and unpause the show he was watching.

[sleepyangelkami]

RESTLESS NIGHTS d.dixon

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 2.2K

DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - for as long as you can remember, you've always suffered with insomnia. sometimes it was manageable, sometimes it wasn't. the only difference was then you didn't have daryl dixon to help you, now you did.

 ☆ WARNINGS - sleep deprivation, insomnia, mention of sleeping (lack of), crying, reference to bad childhood, mentions of eating/food, having no appetite, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

sleep never came easy to you.

you remembered being young, standing outside your mothers bedroom door and crying. fat tears would roll down your cheeks as you explained how your eyes simply couldn't will themselves closed anymore and that it was damn near impossible for you to sleep.

she'd always shone you back right to that little bedroom of yours. the walls would enclose on you and yet your eyes would shut, tiredness seeping over you.

yet sleep would never come.

a lot of time has passed since you were a child crying at your mothers door, begging for some kind of an out to this awful insomnia.

before the fall hit, you were a polite young lady that wore summer dresses and skirts all year 'round. you'd walk in through the white door, bell ringing as you entered your doctor's. he'd give you the capsuled tablets that helped you sleep. now, you couldn't even remember what they'd been called.

after the fall, you'd been stocked up, a reasonable amount. though not after long, the name had scratched off, sticker almost gone from the bottle completely. along the way, you met your group, your people, your family. they were more your family than your mother ever had been.

when you and your group found the prison, you deemed that you liked it there.

it had walls, safety, food, anything you ever could have asked for. but soon enough, your medication ran out and the sleepless nights haunted you again.

like today.

carol had made this sort of soup for lunch. you were sat at one of the tables, a spoon in your hand as you stirred it inside the bowl, zoning out. you wondered if it had gone cold by how long you'd been stirring it for. all you knew was that you were too tired to so much as move your arm.

unbeknownst to you, you'd been being watched. daryl dixon had taken a liking to you the moment he'd laid eyes on you. you pranced around with big smiles and happy rosey cheeks with your little dresses and skirts. you were so bubbly and happy, even when the entire world ended. most would think that a person like daryl would find it annoying, rather irritating. but in fact, he was attracted to it the moment he'd seen it. you were like a ray of sunshine, a beaming rainbow. whenever he was around you, he was smiling or laughing. rick almost fell off his horse when he heard daryl laugh for the first time, it was next to you, of course.

but lately, things hadn't been right.

he'd noticed the very first day you woke up with messier than usual hair, a hand running through it with an almost permanent pout etched to your lips, under eyes looking a little dark.

you'd only gotten worse since then.

the sound of a bowl hitting against the table brought you back to life. your doe eyes widened a little as you sat up a little straighter, big eyes gleaming at the man who took a seat at the table you were sitting at, right across from you. "hi, daryl." almost swooning at the mere sight of him.

"hey, pretty girl." yeah, definitely swooning. "wh's up with you? you've been stirrin' the damn soup cold."

you glanced down to your bowl of soup that you'd barely touched. "not hungry." you stated, pushing the bowl out in front of you. you sighed with pouty lips as you laid your chin on your hand.

lack of sleep tended to do that to you. one of two things would happen. one, you'd be craving something like crazy, whatever food it would be from cheese to fruit. or two, the lesser kind one, you'd lose your appetite almost completely. now was the lesser kind one. this one tended to happen when you didn't sleep for longer periods of time.

daryl's eyes were so full of concern and worry. "somethin' wrong?" not waiting to begin having his own soup, carol made a mean soup.

"nope." popping the 'p' sound because really, there wasn't anything wrong, at least nothing serious enough to tell anyone else, you thought. "just tired." tired was an understatement, your whole body was exhausted.

"yeah, i get that." nodding along and pursing his lips. though this behaviour had been going on quite a while. he never wanted to push you, but there were times where he felt like he had to do something. "you'd tell me if there was something wrong though, right?"

you hummed, eyes tracing his own. you were awfully tired and with electric blue eyes like his own, it was sort of hard not to get caught staring into them, whether you were tired or not. "'m just tired." you assured.

though the man didn't look as though he believed you. his eyes traced your own, as though they were trying to figure out what else was wrong.

finally, he sighed, knowing that you weren't going to tell him anything, not now. "alright, sweet girl." watching your cheeks go flush. "you know where to find me if you need me."

you nodded your head, rosy cheeks and pink lips in a smile. "thanks, daryl."

days passed awful slow when you were tired.

thankfully, you'd taken no naps throughout the day so you assumed that by the time night fell, you'd be tired enough to sleep your soul away.

but when the dark sky loomed over the prison, you ready in your cell for sleep to envelope you... you were met with sheer nothingness.

you huffed, closing your eyes and twisting your body.

you thought that if you kept trying, sleep would eventually come to you. you'd tried all the home remedies you could, you tried medication, though that was no longer an option. now, you had hardly any options. the only one that you could think of was shutting your eyes and praying for sleep.

but you knew a long time ago that there was no god in a world like your own.

you turned around for what felt like the hundredth time. even with your eyes strewn closed, a pout still rested on your lips and your brows were knit together closely.

you wondered if anyone else in the prison was awake.

then your mind travelled back to daryl dixon. he looked at you so full of concern and when he'd offered help, he meant it. you knew daryl the best out of anyone and you knew that daryl doesn't say things he doesn't mean. he was the type of man to stay quiet and if he did speak, it was only truth. that was what many people admired about him.

you hardly registered your sock covered feet on the cold concrete ground of the prison. sleepiness was holding so close to you that you hardly registered anything. you didn’t remember your feet guiding your body, turning the corner to reveal the next hallway. and you definitely didn’t recall stepping into daryl dixon’s cell, eyes slightly widening in the dark as you peered around, looking for him.

alas, his cell was empty.

you almost cursed yourself, thinking it was beyond stupid for you to come here in the first place. perhaps you should have just stayed in your cell and waited the night out. you could do one more night without sleep, right? 

but before you could turn around, you heard the creak of the cell door. you whipped around to see daryl standing there, looking dishevelled as ever. “what’re you doin’ here, angel?” when you didn’t respond, he found his body moving closer to yours. “shouldn’t you be sleepin’?” 

and maybe that was what set you off.

“i can’t.” but you didn’t speak the words with your usual joyish speech, where every word was elongated and practically cheered from your mouth. your voice was all croaky as it broke, like a child, waiting for your mother to open her bedroom door and let you in.

“hey, hey.” his hands were already stretching out, finding your face in the darkness. his fingers brushed against your cheeks, softening the reddened skin. “‘s okay, what’re you cryin’ for?” though his voice was filled with nothing but comfort, the way it softened to fit your own. 

daryl dixon truly was one in a million.

you shrugged your shoulders, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes, breaking the dam and sliding down your cheeks embarrassingly so. “i can’t sleep.” voice cracking again, but you didn’t stop there. “i’ve tried everything ‘n i can’t do it.” your head shaking, nose becoming red.

daryl wasn’t exactly new to insomnia. he’d felt it times on his own, usually after something drastic had happened or if something was yet to happen. like when carol’s daughter, sophia had been missing. he remembered not being able to sleep for weeks on end. he remembered glancing into the mirror, his eyes sunken and under eyes practically purple. come to think of it, that was exactly how you’d looked earlier.

he cursed himself for not realising sooner. 

“‘s okay, baby, everything’s okay.” he heard your pathetic little sobs, practically whimpering as he took you into his arms. his large hand found the back of your head, steadying it by his chest as you cried, tears running down your cheeks as your own chest practically heaved. 

you’d been so desperate for sleep that you hadn’t realised you’d been on the brink of tears. now that you were sobbing into the man’s chest, you found it in yourself to be a little embarrassed. but daryl wasn’t the type of person to let you feel that embarrassment. he merely cooed and shushed you, hand gently massaging the crown of your head. 

“‘m sorry.” voice like fragile glass as you pulled away from him. “‘n now ‘m keeping you awake ‘n i―”

“hey,” catching your attention. even in the dead of night, with darkness consuming the room whole, you were still able to make out his rough features, and he could still trace your delicate ones. “you ain’ ever gotta say sorry to me, alright?” you nodded your head, eyes still full of watery liquid and lips puffy and red. “now c’mon, we’re gonna figure this out together.” 

you could vaguely make out his hand on the small of your back, leading you towards his bed that was draped in many more blankets than your own. 

you’d never realised just how comfortable daryl’s bed was, even through the many times you’d practically hopped into his cell, jumping on the bed excitedly to tell him some form of news that you’d heard, whether it was a piece of gossip from carol or something serious from rick, daryl had always been all ears.

it was very different to the state you were in now.

you still found yourself sniffling as daryl tucked the sheets over your body. the sheets were different than yours. usually, you hated feeling too many sheets on you, finding yourself feeling awfully trapped but when he was tucking you in so delicately, you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind.

then you felt his arm gently plop over your middle, holding your back against his front.

gently, your two hands pushed themselves forward, grasping his much larger one. you fumbled with his fingers, pulling one in, sticking one out. even in the dark when you couldn’t so much as make out the shapes, you still found it sort of lulling.

the feeling of his breath hitting the back of your neck, the warmth of his body flowing into your own. you found your eyes gently shutting.

you wondered had it been this easy all along. If all you’d ever needed as just someone else. you didn’t know but deep down you knew. perhaps that was why you’d waited at your mothers door as a child, crying and begging for her to just open it and let you in while she’d shone you away, annoyed with your antics, wondering why she couldn’t get a normal child. and maybe that was why your feet unconsciously began walking towards daryl’s cell, because even your body knew that all you needed as someone to help you, someone to guide the way.

and daryl was more than happy to give you that.

for the first time in a long time, you found yourself almost succumbing to sleep. 

it was almost scary. you wondered if your eyes would force themselves open or your mind would force yourself awake. your entire body feared that you’d blink and wake up in your own cell, had this all just been in your imagination due to your lack of sleep.

the mere thought made a shaky breath fall from your pretty lips.

and daryl was more than prepared to pull you closer towards him, his face practically in your hair. his lips pressed a chaste kiss to your shoulder blade, hand finding your fingers and interlocking them before his arm stretched out around your body, pulling you as close as humanly possible. “not goin’ anywhere.” he mumbled, as though he were able to read your mind.

he spoke again but the words faded out as your tired mind finally put itself to rest.

perhaps you didn’t just need someone else. perhaps you just needed him.

main masterlist/daryl's masterlist

[starscabaret]

Yandere ML x Actual villainess reader (I AM TIRED OF THE SAME OLD… this is the same old BUT I WANT A REAL VILLAINESS not some reincarnation like come on guys what’s next? “I GET REINCARNATED AS A VILLAINESS AND THE MALE LEAD IS MY CHILD WHO LOVES ME”)

Yandere Male x Villainess Reader

hmm im not super sure what you mean by villianess...but this bitch is evil.... please let me know if this is what you wanted !!

pairing: Yandere! Male x Villainess (serial killer) reader

summary: quick blurb/ intro

warnings: murder, killing, etc

To Yan! you were more than just a high school bully. He knew how evil you truly were. Only because he stalked you and knew your every move. Did that make him evil too? No, he was just lovesick, you were sick… sick in the head. Beyond repair actually, but he didn’t care. After watching you for years he knew why your mom’s dogs never lasted long, he knew that your friend didn’t fall and hit her head in third grade, he knew what you were really doing when you told your parents you were going to a concert with friends for the weekend. The first time he saw you kill, his stomach turned and he almost covered his shoes in vomit. He wanted to scream out, but he couldn’t risk exposing himself. But it was you, you were his perfect sweet angel there had to have been a reason. His darling wouldn’t kill someone unless there was a very very good reason. What the fuck had they done to you ?? Did they hurt you? No one was allowed to hurt you. But there was no reason. You were just evil, pure evil. When you got an internship at the local hospital he thought you had changed. You were doing good, you looked beautiful in your scrubs, and a big smiling face, all of the patients lit up when you shadowed their doctors. How could they not, his darling shined bright everywhere she went. But when he snuck into the hospital late one night to watch you like he always did, he saw you cover a poor lady’s face with a pillow, and you smiled even brighter once she stopped struggling and her heart monitor flatlined.