Warnings: This has nonconsent and somnophilia. Please do not read if these elements or any dark elements make you uncomfortable.
Please reblog if you enjoy and leave some feedback! Muah 💋
When she succumbs to the serum, she is standing. She hasn’t any idea. When she wakes, she won’t recollect much at all. It will be easy to convince her that she laid herself down.
He catches her and carries her to the bed. It is more than big enough for them. He puts her head on the pillows and watches her. She’s as peaceful as she’s been since their arrival. Even before then.
She is full of unrest. He can’t say why but he senses it. She fidgets and paces, wringing her hands incessantly.
He reaches for her hand and examines her fingers. Her fingers are calloused and a knuckle is split. She works hard. He must admit it is admirable.
He sets her hand on her stomach. His eyes linger on the breath in her chest. There’s something about her. Perhaps there is some sickness in her. She is holding water or some excess.
He leans in as he brushes her cheek. He’s never had a moment to just look. He’s never been with her in the light as such. Her eyes move beneath her eyelids as she dreams.
Slowly, he lowers himself down next to her. His clothes fade away from his body. Hers are gone just as quickly. She remains unaware.
He drags his fingertips down her neck and across her shoulder. Bumps rise on her skin in his stead. He follows the length of her arm, tracing down to where he hands rest on her stomach. He bends over her and pushes his nose into her soft breast.
She smells like something sweet. He opens his mouth to taste her. Her nipple is like a sugary confection as he sucks it. He nips lightly. She’s delicious.
He purrs as he sidles closer. He’s painfully aroused and yet he will not enter her yet. He presses his cock to her side as he guides her arm across the bed. He lays with his head upon it.
She is warm. He feels along her pelvis and draws lines around her cunt. He teases her thighs. He walks his fingers up to her stomach. He cups the small cushion there.
He closes his eyes. He aches to his core. He longs to have her heat around him but his mind races.
His hand curves around her hip then her bottom. She is lush. Perhaps he doesn’t remember it well enough. Perhaps he did not pay much attention.
He thinks of the last day she was in service of his mother when she rushed out. Then as she shucked clams with that sickly pucker in her lips. And today and the bile on the floor.
He spreads his hand across her middle. He thinks about it. That could be but he doesn’t believe it to be. It was only a silly idea. He didn’t let himself go inside her again.
He closes his eyes. The lights go out around him. He sleeps for a time and wakes again. She does not stir.
He lifts himself over her and pushes between her thighs. He enters her carefully. He sinks down until he can go no further. He stays buried to his hilt. He likes it just like that.
His eyelids shut again. He eases back into a daze. His head is heavy as visions of the Norns and home meld together.
There’s a moan. He lifts his head. The sun crests outside and casts a pinkish hue through the archway. She twitches.
Gods. He slides out of her. He’s hurting badly and swollen. He backs off of her frantically and in an instant, is perched in the armchair and clothed. Her dress swathes over her naked flesh.
He leans his head back and lowers his lashes. He listens to her breathing, to her shift around, then she wakes. He senses her sit up. She murmurs.
She climbs off the bed gingerly. He pretends to be asleep. He can see her just slightly. She looks around and touches her cheek.
She crosses the chamber and grabs the empty basin from the stone table. She sets it down with a heavy clank as suddenly it fills with water. She recoils and faces him.
He sits up, feigning surprise.
“Your highness, my apologies. I only meant to fetch water,” she croaks.
He stares at her. Her eyes flit away. She is still meek around him.
“My apologies, again, your highness. I do not recall how I fell asleep. I did not mean to claim your bed from you.”
“It won’t happen again, I trust.” He girds.
She bends her neck, “it will not. I swear it, your highness.”
His cock twitches. He doesn’t want her cunt. He wants her mouth. Then and there. He thinks of seizing her by her hair and forcing her lips around him.
He hisses and shifts.
“My chests are there,” he points across the room and his luggage appears. “I require fresh attire.”
“Yes, your highness.” She spins and her skirts swish around her as she hurries to the chests.
“The one with the silver snake clasp will have garments,” he guides her.
She opens the lid. She peers over the content.
“There is a particular jacket. Gold with silver buttons. You will find it,” he demands.
“Yes, your highness.”
She sifts through the clothes. She is delicate with them. She treats them with the care needed. She bends over the side of the deep chest. Her bottom is wonderfully round.
As she searches, he grips the armrests. He tilts his hips so his cock rubs against his pants. He swallows his groans. Not much, not as her slickness clings to him still.
She stands just as he flows over. He cums and plants his feet to keep from shaking the chair. He exhales as she lifts the jacket and examines it.
“Don’t forget, the trousers must match,” he taunts as his muscles ease. “These sisters do not abide missing details.”
The balls Loki has to drug her and then be like “It won’t happen again I trust” like you didn’t put her there! Honestly the poor girl already has it hard enough
Warnings: This has nonconsent and somnophilia. Please do not read if these elements or any dark elements make you uncomfortable.
Please reblog if you enjoy and leave some feedback! Muah 💋
You report the prince’s chambers as bid. You wait outside his door in disbelief, and a touch of discomfort. The sickness persists. Your stomach has not ceased roiling as even with a dozen washes in water hotter and hotter each time, you can still smell clams.
You knock gently then fold your hands. There is no answer. The prince might be busy. Or perhaps he forgot. It’s easy to do, as insignificant as you are.
You look down at the floor and part your hands. You touch your stomach. You are bloated. And nervous.
The queen’s accusations echo in your mind. Though, she cannot be right. It is impossible. It is only a virus of some sort. It must be. Or perhaps it is your blood come to reap, though it does take its time and churns your insides.
You shift and sway. You peer up and down the corridor. You are alone.
You step up to the door and tap again. The moment your knuckles touch, it opens upon its own. You stare at it. What do you do?
You stand, frozen, and drop your hand.
“In,” the voice slithers from within.
You wince and suck in a deep breath. You slowly approach and peek around the door. The prince stands before a looking glass that reflects all of him. He smooths the green satin of his jerkin. He is dressed most formally.
“Your highness,” you greet as you hover near the door.
The door shifts and you quickly dodge out of the way. You trip and stumble to steady yourself. He prince leans in as he examines his dark strands, feeling them with his lithe fingers.
“You cannot wear that. Not as my royal servant,” he chides.
You look down at your plain grey dress and dark apron. As you’ve been recently remanded to the kitchens, your royal garments were rescinded along with your duty.
“Apologies, your highness.” You struggle to get out each word. “I… could ask–”
“Ta,” he gestures with two fingers and a green aura glows around them.
You feel a tingle swirl around you. You look down at the linen turns to a deep shade of gold with a sash of gold at the waist. You lift your chin to peek at the prince.
“That should suffice,” he says.
“Yes, your highness. Many thanks for the generosity.” You recite the deferential grace. You are trained well in submission. It is your only defence.
“Yes, yes,” he spins and flicks away your words. “I haven’t time for you to be scurrying around like a mouse. We are due. Rather, I am due.”
He nears you and you stare at his chest. It would be overly brazen, presumptuous even, to look him in the face very long. And difficult. He frightens you.
“Nornheim,” he mutters as he stops before you. “I’m certain it will be rather novel to one like you but I promise, it is not so fascinating.”
He hooks his arm around you. You wince in surprise. To have him touch you so boldly. He pulls you against him and a green blaze flickers around you. The room dissipates and the the emerald glare turns to a spectrum of colours.
You land on your feet heavily. It is only the prince that keeps you aloft. Your head is spinning. Your insides too.
You groan as he lets you go carelessly. You peer around, holding your breath. There’s acid in your guts, it slowly bleeds up your throat.
The prince turns as a shadow emerges as if out of the floor. The walls are open, with arches looking out onto a deep and starry night sky. The floors are old stone tiles with mosaics fashioned from tiny plates of ivory and ebony.
A mist rises from the ground and furls into a violet shadow. A figure appears, swathed in a cloak which matches the sky, shimmering with the same stars. From beneath, you can only see a pair of full lips and a sharp jawline. The woman beneath has skin the colour of rich copper.
“They sent you…” she declares. Her voice seems to echo anon.
“Verdandi,” Prince Loki purrs. “So pleasant to meet again, isn’t it?”
She does not move. The silence pervades, stilling the evening breeze.
“I shall warn my sister. You will not seek her out, Asgardian.” She sneers.
The prince chuckles. “You will give Urd my well wishes.”
She snarls and dissipates without another word. You stare at where she was. You bring your hands to your throat as you blink. You are terribly dizzy.
You bend forward at the sudden eruption inside. You haven’t a moment to stop yourself before you wretch onto the beautiful tile, decorated with the face of a woman that looks strangely familiar. You step back before the vomit can stain the beautiful green skirt.
“Apologies,” you cage your mouth with your fingers. “My Prince–”
He hums and the bile recedes away from the tile. You watch in horror as it rolls like the angry sea toward the open archway. You shudder. The taste of starmint suddenly tinges your mouth.
“It can occur after one travels the BiFrost.” He chides. “It will settle.”
“Yes, my prince. Thank you. It will not happen again.”
He sighs. “The sisters will receive us when they deem fit. Stubborn, lofty as they are. For now, we will find our chambers.”
He ushers you with a lazy wave of his hand. You follow. He leads you from and archway and suddenly and stair appears before him. Each becomes visible only as he walks upon it. You trail him unsteadily, terrified of plummeting from the height. Below, the glowing craters of Nornheim burn.
He enters a corridor that builds itself around you. He enters the third door. He lets you in after him and the door closes on its own, as his in Asgard.
You look around. It is a fine chamber. Silver and lilac strews across the space in silks and luminescent materials you do not know the name for. The silver table with etchings in the surface is at once covered in shining dishes.
“Well, they do not forget their hospitality, Prince Loki scoffs as the food fills the chamber with savoury and sweet aromas. They are at battle in your nose as you moan and touch your stomach.
He turns to you slowly. He looks you over.
“Hm.” he reaches to his belt. He feels along it and unhooks a small vial. “A drop of this in the tea and it will pass.”
He goes to the table and as he flips a tea cup, it fills with dark tea. He uncaps the vial and carefully taps out a single droplet. He beckons you over.
“Drink.” He commands. “I shall ready myself for the sisters…” He goes to the archway that looks out onto this foreign world. He sighs again. “I told mother…” he doesn’t finish his sentence.
You lift the tea. The smell alone calms your stomach. You drink. It has a sweetness you recognise but cannot place. You don’t think much on it as you imbibe the soothing serum. So long as it can ease the sickness, you will devour it without question.
Omg I wonder if he knows she’s pregnant and if he doesn’t what’s he’s reaction going to be! I’m more so interested in what will happen when SHE finds out she’s pregnant😬
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, violence and blood, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: After an unexpected tragedy, you find yourself hiding from very dangerous men. (medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia, Sergei Kravinoff
Note: thank you to @thezombieprostitute for planting the seed.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3
Love you all like Geralt loves silence. Take care. 💖
A sharp stone jabs the soft sole of your foot, a bramble caught in the hem of your skirt. Your breath clouds in your ears, clogging in your dry, hot throat, sweat laced through your roots and trickling down your back. You're dizzy and confused. Which way do you go? Where are they? All you know is you have to keep moving.
Your foot grows slick as the gash weeps with blood and you flail your arms to keep from falling. You don't know how much further you'll make it. Yet, capture will only guarantee the same fate you witnessed. Your companions, friends you've known since as long as you can remember, your own sister...
You slow, muscles cramping, bones aching, and catch yourself against a tree. There's no going back but you can't go onward. You look up at the towering oak and heave. You can hear rustling, the wind, the leaves, those critters unseen. Through all the cacophony of your ringing ears, the echoes of anguish, you can't tell if they are still upon you.
You grab a knot in the tree and move your foot against the bark, the sharp wood scraping your flesh. You sink your fingers into another notch in the tree and reach for the lowest branch. You fight to haul yourself up, the leaves shaking around you, dimming the air and dropping wet rivulets of dew on you. You steady yourself and plant your feet on the branch, squatting and thrusting up to reach for the next. You gasp and gulp, fighting to swing over the top.
As the canopy thickens around you, you stop to ease the tempo of your heart and the fire in your lungs.
As you cling to the thick trunk, embracing it in hopes it might do the same back, the world slows and your blood with it. The fatigue settles atop your eyelids and fills your limbs with sand. You lean into the bark, surrounded by the noises of the forest.
You sway but keep from toppling off your precarious hiding place. You hear something in the distance. Something constant, something rhythmic. It comes closer and louder. Hooves. Voices. Is it them?
Your eyes crest with tears of horror and you seal your lips to keep from gasping. You snivel and cover your mouth and nose with your sleeve. You stare toward the sound but the leaves block most of your view.
As the strangers close in, you know they are not the same that chased you into the forest. Their voices are different, their tones, their cadence. They are not men on the hunt, they are easy, their horses slowly clopping. Still, you would not risk the sight of another man.
Two, you think. You see a wisp of white, another of brown. On and on, until they are nearly right below you. You peer down and pray that you might disappear into the oak.
A man with a shock of white hair and dark leather armour groans and stretches his neck. Even from a height, looking down, he is a rather large figure. He slides of the horse and paces around it, hanging the reins across its neck lazily. The other man lands heavier on the ground. He speaks first.
"Do you smell that?" He asks.
The other grumbles but does not speak.
"I smell... mm, perhaps it is only the smell of the forest," he remarks. The other grunts again. "Eh, Rivia?"
"A long road," the other comments before he swigs from his waterskin.
"Mm, and some to go," the other agrees.
The brown-haired man puts his hands on his hips and pivots slowly. He lifts his head and inhales the evergreen air. His chest fills. As his eyes open, you feel as if he looks directly at you. You do not think he could, not from all the way down there, not through the leaves.
You stay stuck to the bark. You dare not move, the air leaving your chest in a cautious wisp. You close your eyes and pray you can hide inside yourself. Lord, let these men be quick.
They are not.
Time whittles by as you listen to them stir below. Horses lapping at the stream, leather soles crushing twigs and kicking pebbles, the stacking of sticks and singe of kindling, the scent churning in your chest. You peek down at the men as the settle in to roast a spit of skinned rabbit.
If they should persist for the night, how will you escape? Certainly, they would discover you by then. You cannot remain in this tree so long. And if you fall...
You lean over and stare down at the ground. It is a far way. One of the men speaks, startling you. The brown-haired one. The talkative one, yet unnamed. You recall he called the other Rivia.
The air begins to cool as the sky dims. A glance upward shows the clouds drifting back into the dulling blue. What worries you as much as the men is the dark. At night, you will need fear more than them
If you do get aground before then, you will need shelter before the wolves and other beasts come out. You sway. You’re fatigued as the morning forms an iron mantle over your shoulders; the memories of your friends, your sister, their screams and cries, the men and their fury. The splashing water and gleam of blades.
You only meant to wash the linens, as you do every fortnight or so. It was the time when you could speak bawdily of those things your mothers forbid, or flick water at each other and giggle, just as you did as girls. You shudder turn your face against the tree.
Your sister. Oh, Genevieve. Your throat aches around a sob you hold back. You force yourself to swallow it.
When these men go, so too will you. You have to. You need to be far from here. Far from those violent men until you can find your way home. What shall you tell mother and father? Will they already know?
You lurch, nearly slipping to one side. You catch yourself and the branch sways. You hold your breath and peek down. The brown-haired man chuckles and the other carves away a piece of meat.
“Some critter,” the dark-headed man muses.
“Many of them around. You must feel at home,” the other japes.
“Eh, Rivia, so you do have some humour?”
“The truth is amusing at times, Kravinoff.”
“I do not know you to be amused,” the other, Kravinoff scoffs and claims a hunk of his own, tearing it to morsels with his fingers.
You watch, waiting, shivering. The man called Kravinoff keeps his gauntlets next to him, they shine in the waning light. On his other side, his sword. The other, Rivia, still wears his sword on his back as he hunches and chews. The cooked meat makes your stomach grind.
The evening chill sets in with the shadows. You tuck your chin down and cross your arms against the tree. The thin gown you wore does nothing against the cold. The hem is still wet from standing in the river and your flight across the shore. You are worn through.
Your head lolls and your eyes tinge. Despite the tension in your muscles and the horror in your heart, you could doze. You think of the feather beds you heard Mallory speak of in the duke’s household. How the nobles do not need to worry for the poke or stinks of straw.
The branch creaks as your weight sways. You bite down on a gasp and stretch your arms wide around the trunk. You squeeze your eyes shut tight.
A man below yawns. You don’t know which one. There’s some rustling as the move around. They will stay for the night; they’ve spoken of it and laid out their bedrolls.
The smaller one coaxes from below, “it is growing dark by the moment, little one, you might as well come down before you fall.”
Your eyes snap open and the larger man, Rivia, goes rigid and stills the whet stone against his blade. You tilt your head to see beneath you. The brown-haired stranger strides up to stand right by the trunk. He looks up through the leaves. He sees you. He must.
“Aren’t you hungry? We’ve rabbit left.”
“You speak to trees now?” The other snorts. He is hushed in return as the other gestures with his hand, keeping his gaze upward.
“You will not survive the descent if you slip,” he calls up. “Do you require assistance?”
“It is a bird’s nest, Kravinoff.”
“A pitiful soldier you are, Rivia,” the other hisses. He reaches his arm up. “I could help you, little one.”
You whimper. The other man stands and turns. He looks up too.
“Gods,” the white-haired one, Rivia, growls.
“You’re scared, I understand, but we are not so deadly as the drop, “ Kravinoff continues. “And you were hiding well before we got here. There is a trail left by others...”
You turn your face back to the tree and cling to it. You cannot move. You are too afraid.
“I’m not climbing up there,” Rivia mutters and footsteps traipse through the dirt.
You quiver and hold tight to the trunk. You hear them below. There’s a soft whistle in the air and the branch under you bounces. There’s grunt and you dare to look out from beneath your lashes.
The man pulls himself with the rope, his feet on the trunk as he seems to walk sideways up it. He hooks his leg around the first branch then lifts himself to the one under yours. He stands and latches onto your branch.
“You should come before the dark is too much,” he bids.
“Please,” you croak, “please, leave me be.”
“I would, little one, but I hate to find you in the morning...” He cozens.
You don’t respond or move. He touches your skirt and daintily pets your leg through the fabric.
“You will be ill from this cold if you do not freeze through.”
You whimper. He spreads his hand around your knee more firmly. He gets closer.
“I will help,” he says.
“No, please,” you babble.
“If I would harm you, I’ve a bow that could save me the climb,” he insists. “Come.”
You sniffle. He slides his hand up along your skirt to your lower back. He grips your hip.
“Come down, little one. I am not in the habit of harming gentle ones and I do hate to see them bleed.”
He does not hurt gentle ones? Women? Children? Who then does he hurt? Someone, certainly. He still hurts them.
You tremble. He sighs. He takes his hand off of you.
“Rivia, below,” he hollers down.
At once, a rope slips over your head and down past your shoulders. He tugs it all the way to your waists, your arms bound to your side, and tightens it. He shoves you off the branch and you screech as you plummet.
The rope keeps you at level with the next branch down, right near his feet. He holds both of you steady with it. The man on the ground sighs. You’re lowered, little by little, and he catches you in his arms.
“Good lad,” Kravinoff remarks and swings down easily.
The rope slackens and Rivia puts you on your feet. Your legs fold, weak from running and straddling the branch. All of you hollowed out from the terror of that day.
You hold yourself up on the heels of your hands, head hanging, shoulders wracked. The rope falls loose around your waist.
Kravinoff drops to one knee. He has a waterskin in hand. He uncorks it and offers it to you. You don’t react.
His blue eyes shine despite the dim and his hair is curly with a shimmer of sweat. He cups your chin and forces your head up. You squeak and look at him, tears wobbling on the brims of your eyes. He presses the neck to your lips.
“My comrade is not impressed with me,” he tuts as he tips the skin. You drink to keep it from spilling. “But how can I let a lost lamb like you suffer.”
He pulls it away and shoves the cork back in. He sets it down and lifts the rope over your head. He wraps it up and knots it in a bundle.
He reaches for the clasp of his cape along his right shoulder. As he strips it off, you notice the fang strung to hide around his neck. He fans the cloak around you. The warmth makes you sigh. He pulls the fabric together.
“Come by the fire and warm yourself,” he commands. “And eat. It will help.”
You peer up at him. You let him guide you to your feet and hobble to the fire. Rivia drags the stone down his sword, the fire crackling, luring you with its heat. Kravinoff sits you on his bedroll.
Before you can react, he grabs your ankle. He pulls your foot from beneath your skirt and forces it into his lap. You squeal as he presses his thumb to the gash on your sole.
“A very fine thing you found us, lamb,” he drawls. “An infection would do worse.”
I'm constantly amazed by this authors amazing work! I'm so excited for this story and can't wait to see how it plays out!! So far I'm getting a kind vibe from Kravinoff I wonder if it will stay or if he has a darker side of him that he's hiding. Well done to this author for another fantastic series can't wait to read more!
Author’s note <3 Finally after a whole year I’m responding to the frquently request of a part 2! I cried wiritng this, anyway thank you for liking my work hope you enjoy!
Summary: Part 2 to ‘Missing’ following the events at the night of the ball, everyone is trying to handle the consequences of this summer, will everyone be able to navigate what comes next?
“Are you alright?” Austin asked when I finally turned to him, the music had stopped completely but the cheers continued on. I swallowed down and opened my mouth to speak, blinking rapidly. I couldn’t speak.
Abruptly I tore myself away from his hold, it was making it hard to breathe. Panicking, looking around, no had seemed to notice my suddenly frantic behavior. The moms were busy whispering to each other no doubt about Conrad’s step up. In that moment I remember something- Jeramiah. I look in his direction, tears welling up in his eyes but with the intensifying beating of my heart and Austin’s pestering which my head had zoned out I couldn’t focus.
Wow this is by far my favourite TSITP Conrad story. So beautifully written and so sad yet also heartwarming and weirdly healing. I could not stop crying and I would absolutely love to see a whole series of this. That proposal at the end…. It gave me all the feels🥹🥹
Summary: They say sometimes older men are better when it comes to relationships, but Y/N finds that isn't always the case when she wakes up in bed with a certain younger man after breaking up with a certain Winter Soldier
Warnings: 18+ only, age gap relationship, older woman/younger man!, everyone is over 18!, fratboy!Peter Parker, cheater!Bucky, computergenius!reader, hacker!reader, toxicex!Bucky, consensual sex, semi public sex, heavy smut, drinking, swearing, unprotected sex, eventual pregnancy
summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.
➥ Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, violence, kidnapping, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, housewife kink, cop!Peter
Summary: They say sometimes older men are better when it comes to relationships, but Y/N finds that isn't always the case when she wakes up in bed with a certain younger man after breaking up with a certain Winter Soldier
Warning: 18+ only, age gap relationship, older woman/younger man!, everyone is over 18!, fratboy!Peter Parker, cheater!Bucky, computergenius!reader, hacker!reader, toxicex!Bucky, consensual sex, semi public sex, heavy smut, drinking, swearing, unprotected sex, eventual pregnancy
A/N: Re-write of 'Need to Know'
Series Masterlist
Banner @vase-of-lilies Dividers @firefly-graphics
Her head throbbed and pulsated as she begun to wake up.
The overall shittyness of a hangover taking over her body as the loud, blarming phone alarm rung hard in her ears as she groaned. She buried her face into the pillow as she felt movement coming from next to her, immediate confusion filling her mind as she heard, "Shit, sorry. Forgot that I had the stupid alarm on."
She recognized that voice even with it being laced with grogginess and sleep as she snapped open her eyes, wincing from the daylight that peeked over the curtains.
She was met with an unfamiliar room that looked like the standard college dorm: books and notes in an slight mess on the desk with a laptop hanging by it, posters on the walls and the distinct sound of boys laughing and footsteps coming down the halls.
Turning her head, her eyes widened as the memories of the previous night filled her as she resisted to gulp as she was met with the shirtless image of Peter fiddling with his phone.
The memories of the night before felt like a tidal wave washing over her as she remembered having gone out to drinks with the Avengers team to celebrate their latest takedown of yet another Hydra compound (she handled hacking into the tightly encrypted computers) and she knew Tony had partly also wanted to take her out to get her back out onto the dating scene.
She watched as Peter scratched his head for a moment, seemingly beginning to wake back up as she came to the realization of her naked body under the blanket and the realization of her memories being confirmed as she saw a glimpse of the scratches on Peter's back.
Sitting up as she tugged up the blanket, she wondered how the hell she was suppose to do a walk of shame out of her as Peter said, "anyway, want to get breakfast?"
"What?"
Peter tilted his head a little, "want to get breakfast? I thought since we were getting along so well..."
The ache between her legs from last night a reminder of how well they got along.
It wasn't like she didn't enjoy it or anything, but it was the realization that she had slept with someone nearly ten years younger than her.
"Peter, I'm-"
"I know. You're 30 and I'm 21, I don't care." Peter shrugged and she couldn't help but get distracted by his strong physique. "I told you I don't want a girl my age, I've wanted you."
It made her heart clench at statement.
"All I'm asking for is you take a chance", Peter pleaded, bringing their lips into a soft kiss.
It made her melt.
"Fine. One chance."
Peter grinned.
"But I refuse to be seen by a bunch of frat boys so you better make sure they clear out of here. I'm too old to be dealing with that."
"You're barely 30, no even that old."
Y/N downed the shot of tequila that Tony had passed her, laughing as she felt the burn in her throat and hearing Tony cheering. Say what you want about Tony, but he knew how to party as he had taken them to some nightclub that he bought for shits and giggles.
"Enjoying the burn", Tony teased, Y/N laughed.
"It's the tequila sweats that I hate", she said back.
Standing up from the little VIP booth Tony had rented for them all, Y/N scoped out her surroundings. She saw Nat dragging a bashful Steve to the dance floor, Steve was awkwardly moving around before he finally got the hang of it and began dancing with Nat. Y/N laughed as she watched Steve get down on the dance floor, she spotted Vision (who had his human form on) with Wanda near the bar as Wanda was getting another drink.
"Are you having fun?"
Y/N looked in the direction to see Peter standing there with a grin, Y/N smiled back at him.
"I wondered where you were", Y/N responded, "I always forget your 21."
"My baby face makes it that way", Peter joked.
Y/N had to admit, Peter Parker was a very attractive man, especially right now with his hair gelled back, a white button down that had the sleeves rolled up and dark slacks. Tony said Peter had changed a lot since high school, having managed to join a fraternity in his first year of college; she had only met Peter in the last year so hearing that he was anything but confident before was a little shocking since he walked around like a little mini Tony sometimes.
Peter moved a little closer to her as Tony announced that he was going to join Wanda at the bar.
Sam and Clint were missing, both men having taken some time off to go visit their families, especially for Sam since he wanted to be there for one of his nephew's birthdays.
Although, the person that everyone seemed to ignore that wasn't there was a certain Winter Soldier, but it seemed everyone was on the rocks with the man at the moment. But cheating and immediately bringing around the girl you cheated with will do that, won't it?
Of course that was the second main reason behind Tony bringing nearly all of them out to the club was because of her confiding in Tony about being ready to get back out there. She felt no issue confiding in Tony considering how close of friends they were, she was coming out in his upcoming wedding to Pepper in just a few months time.
"It's a cute baby face", Y/N teased, Peter chuckled.
"I'm glad you're having fun", Peter said, "you deserve it."
Y/N smiled as she tugged up the neckline of her red mini dress, the fabric clinging to her large breasts and hips. It was an off the shoulder dress that she chose just for the occasion with long sleeves and paired with some red bottoms that Nat was letting her borrow.
Y/N watched as Peter looked a bit indecisive as if he was second guessing himself before he blurted out, "Would you like to dance?"
"Don't you think you should be dancing with someone your own age?" she teased before Peter snaked a toned arm around her waist.
"Age is just a number, right?" Peter answered with a wink. "When it comes to two consenting adults, of course."
She wouldn't be an idiot to say she hadn't noticed the younger man's eyes roaming her figure. But she never thought much of it considering she had been in a relationship with Bucky, but that bridge was burned a lot time ago.
She was here to have fun, dance a little, drink... there was no harm in just a dance, right?
"Alright, Spiderboy", Y/N said, "show me what you got."
~
Wanna know what it's like (like)
Baby, show me what it's like (like)
I don't really got no type (type)
I just wanna fuck all night
The sound of Doja Cat singing could be heard even in the women's restroom, the door locked in a rush as Peter pressed her harder into said door. Their tongues dancing across one another as she could taste the alcohol on his tongue, Y/N moaned as Peter slotted his knee between her legs, pressing against her wet cunt and beginning to rock her hips against him.
But Peter pulled his knee away and she whimpered, breaking the kiss for a moment before she felt one of his hands trail under her dress, finding her thong.
"You're soaked", Peter teased, she shuddered as Peter ran a finger down her slit. "I bet I could slid right in."
As if that was his cue, Peter slid a finger into her, Y/N let her head fall into Peter's chest as he slowly began to pump his finger in her.
"Don't tease", she moaned as she brought his face down to hers.
What's your size? (Size)
Add, subtract, divide ('vide)
Daddy don't throw no curves (curves)
Hold up, I'm goin' wide (wide)
We could just start at ten (ten)
Then we can go to five (five)
I don't play with my pen (pen)
I mean what I write
She connected their lips again as Peter slid another finger into, fingering her harder now as he began to rub her clit in tight circles. Y/N cried out at the sensations as she rocked her hips in time with Peter's movements.
Peter began to trail kisses down her neck as her eyes rolled back into her head, her mouth falling open as pants escaped her mouth.
"Fuck you're beautiful", Peter said as he quickened his fingers. "Come on, Y/N, cum on me."
Y/N felt like she was in the Twilight Zone right now, but fuck it, she was enjoying it with the way Peter was fingering her. She could feel that tight knot building in her as Peter's fingers reached an area in her that made her nearly tear up in pleasure, his fingers practically massaging it as she began to tug on his hair as her toes began to curl.
"P-Peter", she panted, "gonna...cum..."
She saw Peter grin in satisfaction as her orgasm hit her like a freight train. She felt breathless and fuzzy as Peter fingered her through it before she whimpered at the overstimulation, which Peter pulled his fingers out.
"Still think I should find someone my own age?" Peter teased, she narrowed her eyes as she panted.
Peter slid his fingers into his mouth and sucked on them.
"I always knew you'd taste sweet", Peter said as she reached for his belt buckle.
Peter brought a hand up, squishing her cheeks together and forcing her lips into a pout; he pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips as she successfully managed to get unzip Peter's slacks, slipping her hand inside to begin to tease the younger man in front of her.
"Now, you wanna be a tease?" Peter groaned as he began to move her to one of the many sinks in the bathroom.
I just can't help but be sexual (whoa)
Tell me your schedule (yeah)
I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby
Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will)
I do what I can to get you off (I will)
Peter had gotten her on the sink, legs spread and her thong stuffed in one of his pockets as he began to rock into her. Her eyes rolling into the back of her head as she felt Peter hike up her leg on him higher, sending him into deeper territory and brushing up against her G-spot as he began to rub her clit in time with his rocking.
"P-Peter", she slurred, eyes beginning to water from pleasure.
"Fuck, you're squeezing me so good", Peter whined as he gripped the sink below her.
His thrusts becoming rougher as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.
Might just fuck him with my makeup on (I will)
Eat it like I need an apron on (yeah, ay)
Eat it 'til I need to change my thong (yeah, ay)
We could do it to your favorite song (yeah, ay)
Her makeup was ruined, she was sure of it from the amount of kissing, sweat and tears. Y/N shivered as Peter bite down on a part of her neck, making her clench around her even tighter and causing him to let out more groans of pleasure, his hips slapping into her even rougher.
The sound of skin slapping skin rung in bathroom, echoing off the walls as she brought Peter's face back to her own, smashing their lips together as she squealed when her second orgasm hit her, her legs shaking and back arching.
You're exciting, boy, come find me
Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me"
Fuck that feeling both us fighting
Could he try me? (Yeah) mmm, most likely
She had pushed Peter onto one of the toilets in the bathroom, his dick red and leaking when she had straddled him before sinking down onto him. Y/N shivered as she felt Peter stretching her out again and she knew she was going to be feeling him the next day as she moaned and threw her head back at the delicious stretch his cock gave her cunt again.
Peter gripped her hips before grabbing her ass and smacking it, she pulled her face towards his, connecting their lips as she begun to rock her hips.
Oh, wait, you a fan of the magic?
Poof, pussy like an Alakazam (yeah)
I heard from a friend of a friend
That that dick was a ten out of ten
She could someone knocking on the door, but she could care less right with Peter buried so deep inside her as his hands that gripped her hips so tightly began to help rock her.
Sometimes Y/N wondered what Peter had been like before he went to Empire State and joined his fraternity, and in this moment as they sat across from one another at one of the on-campus cafes, she figured maybe this might have been it with how he fidgeted a little.
"Nervous?" she mused, "this was your idea."
"I can't be nervous on a date with a pretty girl?" Peter remarked and she chuckled.
"Not after last night." Peter grinned and ran a hand through his fluffy, chocolate brown hair. "Besides, this isn't a date. This is you trying to convince me why I should go on a date with you."
"Sorry, it's just... I've liked you for awhile, but I didn't say anything because-"
"Because of Bucky?"
Peter looked down sheepishly and Y/N reached over to grasp his hand.
"And then when you two broke up, I didn't think it would be right to tell you because of how everything went down."
"You're doing a lot better than he did", Y/N said. "I appreciate that you waited, Peter. That's really sweet of you."
Peter grinned a boyish grin that Y/N couldn't help, but replicate back at him.
~
She had agreed to a date with Peter.
In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but think of the thoughts that others might have with her being seen with Peter. She examined her face in the mirror, trying to see if she had any wrinkles, age-related blemishes and sighed.
"You look stressed." Slightly startled, Y/N turned around to find Nat standing the doorway of her room with a curious look on her face.
"Just a little."
"Where are you off to? Hot date tonight?" Nat asked with a grin.
"About that", Y/N trailed off, looking at her outfit.
A white, blue-floral printed dress that cinched at the waist and was off the shoulder adorned her body with her keeping her makeup clean and simple, and her face loose and away from her face.
"Who's the lucky person?"
"Peter."
Nat was silent for a moment as Y/N felt the pit of anxiety in her stomach at the thought of her friend's judgement before Nat said, "well damn, didn't think the kid had the balls to make a move."
"What?" Y/N asked as she went to grab a pair of platform sandals.
"Anyone would working sense could tell the kid was eyeing your ass all the time", Nat nonchalantly said with a shrug. "Don't tell you didn't notice?"
"I noticed", Y/N defended, slipping her feet into the shoes. "I just thought it was because he was young."
"I also take it that you were with him when you disappeared from the club?"
Y/N's eyes widened as she looked away before Nat let out a laugh.
"Damn, you have to tell me all the details when you get back", Nat teased. "But I'm glad you're getting back out there again."
"You don't think it's weird? With me being older than Peter?"
"If men in their sixties can date women young enough to be their daughters, why can't you go on a date with a younger guy?" Nat shrugged.
Y/N gave Nat a smile and sucked in a breath.
"So, how do I look?" Y/N asked, posing for a moment.
"Like Parker will most likely fuck the shit out of you."
"Perfect."
Peter texted her not too long after that he had arrived and in an air of her favorite perfume, she met him out in the living room of the compound.
A sense of satisfaction fell over her as she noticed Peter's eyes raking over her body as she took in his appearance. His hair slightly gelled away from his face, a white button down shirt and black slacks framed his body.
They were alone in the living room, a rare event since the space always had at least one person present but apparently not today.
"You look amazing", Peter complimented, stretching out his hand and grasping hers.
He gently pulled her towards him as his eyes hungrily stared into hers.
"Thank you", she said with a small smirk. "I thought you'd enjoy this. Never worn it before."
Lost in their own world, they never noticed a certain figure hanging around the corner, seething as he watched Peter met her lips in a soft kiss.
His metal hand clenching into a fist as he turned away, fuming at the sight before him.
Summary: Coriolanus always hated Sejanus Plinth. He had everything that Coriolanus should of had; money, influence, and you.
Warnings: Coryo being de-lu-lu, unrequited love, Reader insert, dark!Coriolanus snow, unedited, dead dove to not eat
Word count: 15,053
Part 1 here
Part 3 coming.
Coriolaus wakes early the next morning and races to the Citadel to drop off Dr Gauls homework.
He carried his anxiety about Dr Gauls potential comments along with him to his session with Lucy-Grey.
He struggled to sit still, twirling his pen around and around in his hand. It was not how he wanted to present himself to Lucy-gray.
What he wanted was her trust, her loyalty, her obedience. Things that would be hard to gain if he gave off a school-boy impression.
Instead he forced his nails into the palm of his hand under the table, and tried to focus on Lucy-Gray as she spoke.
“I am sorry about your friend”, she offered.
“Thank you”, he returned.
“That other girl. Was she okay? The guards whisked you away so fast. I couldn’t see-”.
Something about her asking about you made Coriolanus irritated.
He supposed it was just the image it brought back. The sheer shock upon your face, the fear that he wouldn’t get to you in time.
“She’s fine”, he interrupted. His pen began twirling in his hand again.
He wished he could have seen you this morning to check on you. You most likely woke up in the arms of Sejanus. He wouldn’t check on you like he should. His first words would have been complaints about the games.
He shouldn’t be here really. Who choses mentoring a boy sure to die rather than taking care of you at home. Coriolanus bet he made no protest when you got ready for school.
If it had been Coriolanus, as it should be, he would have ensured you stayed home in bed. He wouldn’t have left your side after yesterday. He wouldn’t have even let you be there yesterday.
First Sejanus causes the wound, and then he isn’t man enough to take care of you properly. How sweet it will be, the day you finally belong to Coriolanus Snow.
“I need you to sing in these interviews. It’s your last chance to win people over. I can’t send you gifts in the area without their money”, he states.
“Maybe a guitar could persuade me. Maybe”, Lucy-gray offers.
“Snow. Dovecote” Dean highbottom calls.
Coriolanus whips around to see Peacekeepers waiting for them by the door.
He could piece the clues together to come to the conclusion that Dr Gaul had called them.
Clemmie on the other hand waited until they were climbing the Citadel steps to ask her obvious question.
“She can’t actually have expected us to write that report. Could she? I was crying for hours last night”.
Corionaus sighs. If Clemmie had kept her mouth shut he would have been next to you. You’d be nervous and in need of comfort, no matter how tough you talked.
“We did write it. I handed it in this morning”, he states.
This time Clemmie sighed, “Great, give me the highlights”.
Coriolanus obliged her if only to keep his mind focused. His bullet points took him up the entry stairs and through the doorway to Dr Gauls lab.
The lab exceeded coriolanus horrific expectations.
It was cold and the large space only housed a long corridor of strange creatures in glass cabinets.
Coriolanus taps the casing of a fish-type creature only to see if it moves.
Its eyes shoot open only for a second before falling back into a drugged sleepy state.
What exactly was Dr Gaul doing? What were these things? For what purpose could they be used for?
“Mr Snow. Ms Dovecote. Come and see my new babies”. Dr Gaul's voice boomed in the empty space.
Coriolaus left the fish, following Clemmie as Dr Gaul led them to a new section and over to a large tank of colorful serpents.
The rainbow moved within the glass in perfect sync. It was hard to tell where one snake started and another ended.
“Is there a point to the color?”Clemmie asked.
Dr Gaul scoffs at her as she ascends the stairs to the top of the glass cage.
“There’s a point to everything, Ms Dovecote, or nothing at all”, Dr Gauls answers.
She spins to face the children, and rests against the side of the enclosure.
“I must say I was expecting Miss y/n, in your place Ms Dovecott”.
“As I said, Dr Gaul, Coriolanus and I do all our assignments together”, Clemmie defended.
“Which is exactly why I was expecting the other one”. Dr Gauls eyes flick to Coriolanus, “exactly, which part did you write Miss Dovecott?”.
Coriolanus tries to pull Clemmie out of the hole she was in but Clemmie talks over top of him.
“There was-”.
“I was inspired by Coriolanus, of course. But the sponsorships, and the gifts in the arena. They were all mine”, she cut him off.
“Clemmie”, he warns. Dr Gaul already knew she played no part. Lying to her would only aggravate her sadistic tenancies.
Dr Gual takes the bait. Crossing her hands in an almost gleeful manner she addresses Clemmie.
“So it’s your sweaty handwriting on that page? Very impressive, Miss Dovecote”, Dr Gauls fawns.
Coriolanus knew it was a tease. He anticipated the come down and the potential consequences of her lie.
“Unfortunately’, Dr Gaul continues, “My assistant mistook it for trash and lined the shelf of this very terrarium with it”.
Dr Gaul slides back the hatch to show the students the paper that was trapped between the snakes.
“Retrieve it for us, won't you? So we might all consider your inspired ideas”, Dr Gaul smiles.
Coriolanus hand twitched. He imagines you in Clemmies place now. How close he would have pulled you. How his own hands would latch themselves over yours and shield them against your chest.
He wondered if he should do the same for Clemmie. She was an old friend, and her grades helped him to the top.
Still he only stood back and watched. Half-Curious as to what would happen.
The snakes couldn't be poisonous. Dr Gaul wouldn’t play with a students life. Especially a student from a high status family like Clemmie’s.
Maybe. Coriolanus thinks back to the weird, mutated animals that lined the hallway. There was really no telling what Dr Gaul was capable of.
“Don’t worry. My little predators are perfectly docile with those they can trust. So if they’re used to your scent, if you’ve handled their food, for example, or if they have inhaled the sweat of your palm on a page..they’ll leave you alone. If not, You’d be on your own, little girl”.
Coriolanus knew from her words that Dr Gaul words were a threat. Those Snakes would harm Clemmie.
Yet she reached her hand into the enclosure.
“Clemmie!” Coriolanus grits.
He is ignored to her own peril.
As soon as her hand brushes against the edge of the page, a Snake lashes out and strikes the flesh that proposes to retrieve the paper.
Clemmie screams upon impact. Trying desperately to shake the snake from her hand, she loses balance and topples off the stand.
“Clemmie! No, no!” Coriolanus attempts to catch her as she falls, but Dr Gaul hinders him by pulling him back by his arm.
She lands with a heavy thud on her back. Gasps fill the air as she tires to regain her breath.
Already she looked pale. The skin on her hand turned a pale green color, and her eyes refused to blink or look anywhere else but directly in front of her.
“You asked about the colors, Ms Dovecott. I want my enemies to see a rainbow of destruction engulfing the world. I am not above using spectacle to create a little terror. A strategy your classmate here articulated very well in his proposal”.
Coriolanus watches as two peacekeepers and assistant come running over. The assistant administered a large needle which helped Clemmie regain her breath but not her composition.
The Peacekeepers then, without care, began to drag Clemmie across the floor and out a near door.
Coriolanus was left alone with Dr Gaul who turned her attention to him.
“I wonder if y/n would have chosen the same decision?”, she questioned.
“Will she die?” Coriolanus asked in a hard tone. More than Dr Gaul mentioning you, he hated the image of you lying in Clemmies place.
Dr Gaul shrugs her shoulders as if it didn’t really matter.
“The pleasure of breaking ground in one’s research is one gets to find out”, she dismissed.
She smirks as she turns back to the enclosure. Her hand reaches in and she begins to play with her pet snakes.
“You don’t like me talking about her do you?”, Dr Gaul picks up a loose piece of paper and thrusts it at Coriolanus, “for a boy who came up with these proposals, you sure do wear your heart on your sleeve”.
The paper crumbles in Coriolanus' grip. He looks at it to avoid eye contact with Dr Gaul.
“What would Miss y/n think if she saw them? They’re good, these proposals. I am planning to implement as many as possible”.
This causes Coriolanus to look up at Dr Gaul. If you knew, you were sure to never forgive him.
“Don’t worry” Dr Gaul said, as if she could read his mind, “I’ll take credit for this one. Miss y/n is yet to realize her place in this world”.
Dr Gaul closes the hatch to the snakes enclosure, turning her body towards Coriolanus.
“And who is to be beside her, wouldn’t you say?”, she taunts.
Coriolanus straightens up, dropping the ruined paper to the ground.
“Y/n isn’t part of this conversation”, Coriolanus snaps.
Dr Gaul grins at him in response, stepping closer so she could talk quieter but still be heard.
“We both want a new world, Mr Snow. My only question is how far are you willing to go to get it?’
She doesn’t let him answer. Seemingly, now bored of the conversation.
“Now run along, you have an arena to promote and it’s time for my milk and crackers”, she dismisses.
He takes the chance to leave. Storming down the steps and back along the hallway as fast as he could.
Coriolanus tries to keep himself from running out of the Citadel. He nearly stumbles over his feet trying to get out as quick as he can.
Turning behind him every so often to make sure no one was following him.
The whole scene plays in his mind again and again.
He was glad it wasn’t you in the end. You were already so traumatized after yesterday, it was a relief to not have to put you through that ordeal.
The walk through of the arena was not for another hour. He had time to check on you.
He was sure you were at school. Your parents wouldn’t let Sejanus into the house, and you wouldn’t have left Sejanus after yesterday. There was little chance you would have stayed at the Plinths. A smaller chance of Sejanus forcing you to as he should have.
Suddenly, Sejanus’ lack of care turned out to be a good thing.
Sejanus would be with his mentor getting ready for the tour. Which meant Coriolanus could see you without company.
He knew your class schedule well. He liked the knowledge while he was in one class, he knew which one you were in.
So he knew where to go and wait until the bell rang.
A group of people rushed out of the classroom before you. You were the only one walking alone so you were easy to spot.
You almost walk past him but he grabs your wrist and pulls you out of the line of people to a quiet staircase.
“Coriolanus?” you question.
You don’t fight him as he pulls you against the wall and stands in front of you like a shield.
The people who walk past eye the scene but make nothing of it.
“Coriolanus, are you okay?” you question.
He couldn’t tell you about Clemmie and Dr Gaul but he was also so desperate for comfort.
“Is it Arachne?” you ask. He nods his head ‘yes’ although his mind was far from it.
You put your hand that was free from the weight of your books on his shoulder.
“It’s not your fault’’, you console.
“I just wish I could have done more”, he lied.
He had thought little about Arachne since last night. But she was once again bringing you closer to him.
You shake your head, a sad expression pulls across your face and he instantly regrets his lie. Yesterday was traumatic to you, he shouldn't have played it up just for some sympathy.
“No” you repeat, “what happened was no one's fault but her own”.
He wanted to make the argument that perhaps the fault lies with no one else but the tribute, but it would open a conversation he did not want to have.
Instead he reaches up and places his hand on your elbow that had reached out to him.
“Are you okay?” he asks. It should have been his first question.
“I am fine” you say.
Your hand drops from his shoulder and he is forced to put his hand on the brick wall next to your hip.
The position wedged you in a corner. With his tall frame towering over you and now his arm blocking you in. It felt as if you were trapped.
“You should talk to someone. Arachne was your friend”, you state.
You shuffle slightly forward to hint to him that he was too close but he remains stagnant in his place.
“Arachne was not my friend”, he deflects.
You never liked her which meant Coriolanus never liked her.
“You're my friend. Arachne was just someone I grew up with. I hardly knew her”, Coriolanus tried a softer tone as his previous speech came off harder than intended.
He offered a kind smile that you did not return.
“I’ve been worried about you all day” he breathes.
His hand moves to your hip, and you are quick to push it off.
“Coriolanus you are acting strange, perhaps you should go see the school doctor. No one would blame you if you chose to drop out of mentoring after yesterday”.
Strange you called it. Not a man desperately in love. But a mad man that needs to be taken away.
This causes him to take a step back away from you. His eyes go down to the ground but shoot back up at you. Mentoring. In a haste he checks his watch.
He was supposed to be at the Arena in fifteen minutes but he is twenty minutes away.
He groans, cursing the length of the Citadel from here, and cursing your late class.
“I have to leave”, he says, “i just came to make sure you were okay”.
“I am”, you acknowledge.
He steps forward again, placing his hands on your shoulder blades and pulling you forward into his chest.
You stumble into him, timidly raising your hands to pat his lower back.
“Forget your last class, you should go home”, he begs.
He feels you push back against him so he lets you go and takes a step back.
“You should worry more about yourself. You look so pale”.
When you reach out to touch his forehead, he leans into your touch. Loving the way your little warm hand felt.
He knew it didn’t mean anything. You were kind. He could have been anyone and you would have done the same thing.
Still he allows himself a second of pretend that it meant more.
“I have to go”, he says again, “Just promise me that you’ll go home”.
“Sure, Coriolanus”, you amuse.
It was enough to hear it. He didn’t need to believe it.
With a final smile, he reaches up to touch your elbow once more and leaves you in the dark corner.
His run to the arena would have been easier for him if he had any fuel to burn.
His breakfast of a single potato did not provide enough energy to make the distance, yet he pushed himself further than his body wanted him to.
It paid off when he reached the arena just in time for walk-in.
He filed in next to Lucy-Grey seconds before the doors opened.
“I didn’t think you were going to make it”, lucy-Grey admits.
“We’re going to win this” Coriolanus vows, “Together”.
The arena is dark. An ominous red glow from the ticket vendor invites them in.
The camera crew are already there, pointing their large frames in the faces of the tributes.
Lucy-Grey smiles at it, before it pans to a Solomon looking Sejanus walking behind his tribute.
When the shutters open, the streaming light startles Lucy-Grey who pulls back against Coriolanus.
He steadies her, looking around for possible strategies.
“Please” Lucy-Grey grabs his arm to turn him towards her, “Please, Coriolanus, don’t let me die in here tomorrow”.
Before he can answer he is knocked off his feet by a large explosion. He feels heavy gusts of wind from three other directions meaning there was no safe direction he could turn too.
Lucy-Grey lands beside him, and he scrambles to help her to her feet.
The dust is heavy and clouds them. He could feel lucy-gray in his grasp but could only faintly see her. The screams and commotion make it impossible to hear what she is trying to say.
Another loud explosion tore the roof down over them.
He releases Lucy-gray so they could both run for cover.
Days of the war spring to his memory. The rebels were back to finish him off.
The force of the explosion knocked him off balance and onto the floor.
He could see peoples feet as they scramble past but none stop to help him.
A louder, cracking noise spoke of his bigger issue and he turns to see a large pailing coming down towards him.
Knowing he wouldn't have enough time to get to his feet, he began to crawl as fast as he could.
It wasn’t fast enough. The hot metal pailing pins his shoulder to the ground. He could smell his own flesh burning as he lay trapped.
Was this how it ended? He regrets not kissing you today. He had always been reserved. Afraid of your rejection. But he should have just took. Now he’ll die without ever getting to taste you.
Through the smoke he could see Lucy-Grays boots come into view.
“Help me” he begs. He still had so much to do.
She looks to be bending down to assist when she is interrupted by Marcus flying across towards the open door.
“Leave him” he demands, “He wouldn’t save you”.
Marcus doesn’t stick around for her decision. Running to his freedom just across the room.
It was true, if it come down to it Coriolanus would save himself. But Lucy-Gray needed him to survive. She would only get caught in the Capitol and then thrown in the area without a mentor.
She must have realized that too because she bent back down to lift the burning metal off Coriolanus. She didn’t have to lift it far for Coriolanus to roll out from under it.
He is panting heavily he realizes, and is unable to move his shoulder.When Peacekeeper came to take lucy-gray away. Coriolanus couldn’t even rise from the floor to stop them.
He throws out his good hand in an attempt to do something. But the searing pain in his shoulder and his cloudy head hindered him from being able to help.
The last image he could see was her looking down at her burnt hands before it all went black.
His pounding headache woke him to the sight of you by his bed.
He didn’t believe it. He had to be dead.
His hand lashes out to take a hold of your wrist. You felt real.
Your reaction seemed real. A startled look of surprise and discomfort.
“Woah, Corio, take it slow”, the voice of Tigres calls to him.
He looks away from your face to see Tigres sitting in the chair next to you.
“What?” Coriolanus questioned, “What happened?”.
He lets go of your wrist only so he could rise from the bed. The ache in his shoulder becoming more apparent as he moved.
“It was a rebel bombing. They must have been planning it for months. Four tributes were killed”.
Coriolanus almost scowls hearing his voice.
Sejanus sat in a chair positioned on the other side of the bed. You hadn’t come to him in his hour of need. You were merely tagging along with your boyfriend.
“Everyone is terrified, Corio” Tigres explains, “Fliex Ravenstill is on life support”.
“The rebels released a message. They said they want to tear down the symbol of the Hunger Games. Marcus got out. He’s the only one. Peacekeepers are hunting him in the streets but at least he has a better chance out there than he would tomorrow”, Sejanus gravely mutters.
“Tomorrow?” Coriolanus expounds, “They’re not still going ahead with the Games?”
“We can’t look weak in front of the enemy,” you spat, “Everything is going ahead as scheduled. I don’t even know if Lucy-Gray will be able to play tonight”.
“The interviews”, Coriolanus guessed, still hazy.
He pulls himself up out of bed, holding out his arm for you to help his rise.
You do, automatically, hooking his good arm over your shoulder and wrapping your arm across his waist to keep him up.
‘‘You shouldn’t get out of bed”, you criticize him.
Normally he wouldn’t ignore you, but the interviews started fifty minutes ago.
Sejanus rises to in order to assist Coriolanus as he shuffles forward, but Coriolanus barks another order at him.
“Sejanus, turn the Tv to the interviews”.
Like a good dog, he obeys. Leaving another man hanging onto his girlfriend.
“Careful, Corio” Tigres directs.
Coriolanus takes tigres arm as he couldn’t lift his shoulder so all his weight wasn’t passed on to you.
The Tv turns just in time to watch Lucy-gray come out with a guitar, and a big smile.
Sejanus makes his way over to you, offering to take your place as Coriolanus’ anchor.
He is quick to speak for you. Stating that the change would topple him to the floor.
Sejanus relents and takes his place beside you. You made no complaints so Coriolanus’ weight couldn’t have been hurting you.
Coriolanus had missed the opening introduction due to Sejanus, but was now focused enough as Lucy-Gray went into her song.
“Where did she get the guitar?” Coriolanus asks. He had been too busy to organize her one before the bombing.
“I brought it for her”, you answer, “i went to see if she was okay after the bombing and she said she needed a guitar for her interview. Said she’ll feel naked without it”.
“Thank you. That was very kind”, Coriolanus commended softly.
Coriolanus always knew someday that you and him would make a great team.
Your eyes are trained on Lucy-gray, and Coriolanus followed suit.
She sang about a boy back home and a betrayal. Was that what she was referring to when she said it was complicated back home. Will she fight with everything she had in her or does she secretly hope that she will die just to spite her past lover.
It was additional stress Coriolanus could have lived without.
“The poor girl” you mutter with tears rolling down your face.
Coriolanus squeezes your shoulders in comfort.
‘She’ll be okay” he promises. He would ensure it for his own survival and your personal satisfaction now that you and his tribute were friendly.
“Thank you for being here”, he says looking down at you, before turning his sights to Tigres, “All of you”.
“It’s what friends do”, Sejanus answers. The only person Coriolanus was not speaking to.
“I don’t think you should be standing”, you say, trying to turn Coriolanus back to bed.
He allows you to lead him there where you tuck him back into bed.
You ruin the moment by going straight back into Sejanus’ arms once Coriolanus has settled.
“We’ll leave you to rest” Sejanus states.
He looked too unhappy for a man who held you in his arms.
“Goodnight” he bids, ‘and y/n, thank you for helping Lucy-Gray tonight”.
Her performance wouldn't have been half as moving with the soft, sad melody accompanying it.
“Good luck, Coriolanus. I hope she wins”, you remark.
With the Plinth prize and the love of his life on the line; lucy-gray was going to be the 10th annual winner of the Hunger Games.
Coriolanus just had to figure out how to give her a competitive edge.
He visited the zoo later that night after scouting out the new arena. With four tributes already dead and the new tunnels revealed, the bombing may have been the best thing that had ever happened to him.
“Lucy-gray!” he calls softly, “Lucy-gray!”
He can hear the pounding of her footsteps as they come closer. He checks for Guards and woken tributes as she made unnecessary noise. None were aroused so he remained in his spot.
“You’re alive!” She exclaims as she nears the fence.
“Those bombs have changed everything”, he wastes no time to explain his purpose here, “They blew the walls out. So that means you can escape up into the stands. Theres a hole down in the floor, it leads down to some tunnels. You can escape there, I tried it.So the moment you hear that bell ring, you run as fast as you can for that hole and find a palace to hide down below alone”.
‘Alone? No, jessups my friend”, she argues.
He shakes his head ‘no’.
“The moment that bell rings, you can’t trust anyone. Not even jessup. Just lay low down there until its safe to come out”, he demands.
Couldn't she see that she was risking not only her own life, but his, with her undying loyalty.
“Thank you. You and y/n have been so nice to me. I don’t know what I would have done without you both”, Lucy-Grey declares, “I don’t know how i’ll ever pay you back for your kindness”.
“You can win”, Coriolanus orders, “you winning will be life changing for y/n and I. We can finally live the life we want to live. When you win, you’ll win for all of us”.
‘I’ll try, but-” she begins but never finishes as Coriolanus cuts her off.
“Theres no ‘buts’. Theres no other option”, he asserts.
Lucy-Gray begins to cry from the pressure of it all.
“Hey”, he whispers in sympathy.
“I am sorry. I am more hopeful in the day light but when it gets to night”, she whimpers.
“It’s okay” he consoles, reaching for his handkerchief in his pocket. The same one he used to wipe your tears, he now used to wipe the tears of Lucy-gray.
“We are going to win, Lucy-Gray. I promise.”.
“Y/n, real lucky to have a friend like you” Lucy-gray comments.
He knew that. Who else would be willing to risk everything for your happiness. It didn’t even bother him that Lucy-gray referred to him as your friend.
All that matters is that someone else realizes the depth of his love.
“I am very lucky to have her”. He breaths. He was cautious to say too much.
“Look, that song, I need to know that you are serious about winning”, he demands.
“That song? That was just pay back, that’s all”, she defenders, “my old boyfriend Billy taupe was cheating on me with the mayor's daughter. She got crazy jealous, had her pa read my name out on stage, and now everyone will know what they did to me”.
The look upon her face told him that she was serious, so he reached into his breast pocket to pull out his most prized possession.
“Here” he shoves the compact into Lucy’s-Grays hand.
“I can’t” she resists, “It’s too fine”
He clasps his hands over hers to stop her passing it back.
“It’s not a gift. It’s a loan. His large hands wrap entirely around Lucy-Gray’s little fingers.
“Whats in here, don’t touch it. Don’t even breathe it in because small amounts can be deadly”.
He could faintly see Lucy-gray staring back at him in the dark. Her big brown eyes caught the lighting of the Zoo and shined back at him.
“I have seen what war does to people, okay?”, he lectures, “I’ve seen it, and there will come a time when you need this, when you need to act. We all do things we’re not proud of to survive.”
Unexpectedly she brings her head forward to bars in an attempt to kiss him. He lowers his head slightly to dissuade her.
The last thing he needed was word getting back to you through a Tribute pretending to be asleep, or just his poor luck to have a Capitol citizen decide to visit the Zoo at the exact moment of weakness.
“I am sorry”, she gasps, “you said it was complicated with y/n, and y/n said she was with Sejanus so I”.
She doesn’t finish her sentence, too embarrassed.
Coriolanus shakes it off like it was nothing, in an attempt to ease her.
“It’s fine. I just”, Coriolanus wasn’t sure what to say.
You were with Sejanus. There was no real reason why he couldn’t kiss lucy-gray.
It was mis-guided loyalty to a woman who kissed another man. Sometimes right in front of Coriolanus.
Still it didn’t feel right. He wanted you to be the only person he kissed.
“It’s”, Coriolanus begins.
“Complicated”, Lucy-Gray finishes.
Coriolanus moves closer, bringing his head as far as he could to the bars.
“We’re gonna win this Lucy-Gray. We’re gonna win this together. I’m going to get you home, back to the Covery, okay? I promise”.
Coriolanus looks at his victor. His dog in the race. He’s bet it all on her, and he’ll be damned if she was going to let him down.
The morning of the Games, Coriolanus couldn’t even eat his cabbage soup that Tigres had worked so hard to prepare.
He kisses Grandma’am and Tigress goodbye before beginning his long journey to school.
There would be cameras and crowds of people. He had to look composed, but inside he felt the most scared he had ever been.
The feeling eased seeing you across the auditorium.
Your hair was down, and your uniform looked freshly pressed. Sejanus held you by the waist as you spoke to him, and you rested your hands on top of his.
It didn’t matter you were here for Coriolanus just as much as you were for Sejanus. His tribute wasn’t even participating. If anything you had come to support Coriolanus and Lucy-Gray.
“Coryo!” Sejanus called for him as he approached the mentors chairs.
Sejanus lets go of you, which is something Coriolanus would never do, to place a hand on Coriolanus shoulder.
“Hey” Coriolanus greets. His eyes remain on you and how you smile at him.
“How you doing? You alright?” Sejanus asks.
“Better”, Coriolanus dismisses.
He sees a photographer approaching from the corner of his eye, and takes the opportunity to take a step back to invite you between Sejanus and himself.
With a hand on your lower back, he propels you forward. The hand remains as you shuffle next to him.
“Over here please!”, the man with the large camera calls.
Coriolanus smiles at the camera, and he hoped you were too. The flash blinds him, and your smiles fades too fast to be certain it ever was really there.
“How are you this morning?”, Coriolanus asks softly.
“Not about to be forced to fight to the death”, you snap.
You don’t look at him as you speak as you often choose not to do.
“Here we go. Here we go, everyone, come on”, Lucky flickerman diverts people back to their seats, before Coriolanus has the opportunity to comfort you.
Sejanus' large hand goes to the back of your neck, and he leans down to whisper in your ear.
“Wait for me over there?” he asks, flicking his head to the nearest bleacher to his seat.
It was the furthest from Coriolanus’ seat, but you nod in agreement and move to his direction.
Coriolanus is ushered into his own seat. He has to crane his neck to look at you sitting on the end of the bleacher all by yourself. He hates to see you as a social out-cast.
“Five, four, three, two”, the music signals the start of Lucky Flickerman's introduction.
Coriolanus ignores him mostly. Turning in his chair to watch you engrossed in the large television in front of you.
Your hands grip the seat underneath you. He would give anything to be able to comfort you.
He wanted to tell you that it was all going to be okay. If he sat you where he wanted, he would have been able to hold your hand, but Sejanus had put distance between you and him, so he would have to watch from afar.
Suddenly you gasp, bring your hand up to your mouth with a frightened expression.
Coriolanus turns back to the screens to see what could have caused such a reaction.
They had found Marcus and left him strung up and half-alive in the arena. It was cruel even for Coriolanus.
You shouldn’t have had to see that. Coriolanus wished he could have protected you from it. A district boy taught a lesson, at the expense of your poor, soft heart.
You’ll be crying about it for weeks with only Sejanus for consolation.
Coriolanus wasn’t sure who would be comforting who with the way Sejanus jumped from his chair.
As soon as he is out of it, the chair was flying across the room. Only stopping when it hits the force of the wall.
“You’re monsters! All of you!” He screams to the audience.
He storms past Lucky flickerman who begins the countdown to the Games as if Sejanus had never existed at all.
Coriolanus gets up, rushing over to you as you rise to follow Sejanus.
He manages to catch your arm just as you make it to the exit way.
The scene was out of the line of camera-shot. Past the first three rows of seats, and hidden by the depth of the stands.
Coriolanus felt hidden enough to not let go of your arm, despite you struggling against him.
You turn back to see how had stopped you with an angry expression, but it doesn’t soften when you see it’s him.
“Don’t”, he begs. He wanted you to stay and support him.
It didn’t matter if you knew it or not, but you were his biggest comfort, and that’s what he needed as he watched Lucy-Gray fight for his life.
You don’t listen to him, tugging your arm out of his grip and chasing after Sejanus without looking back.
Coriolanus watches as you go with a heavy breath.
‘And they’re off!” Lucky announces.
Coriolanus turns to watch Lucy-Gray run from her mark.
“Run”, he demands softly. He takes a few steps forward but is halted when Lucy-Gray remains in the same spot, looking around.
“What are you doing? Run” he groans.
He staggers back to his seat, gripping the plastic back tightly in his hand.
His eyes shut when Lucy-Gray narrowly avoids a strike from Reaper.
Why won’t anyone ever listen to him, he wondered.
A district 2 kid gets slaughtered which gains the Cameras full attention. When it pans back to a field shot, Lucy-Gray was crossing the broken fragments with Coral hot on her heels.
Coriolanus felt the need to take a seat as he watched. A few of his eliminated classmates wished him well as they left, but Coriolanus remained slumped against his hand.
It wasn’t until she had gathered Jessup and began racing for the hole in the ground that Coriolanus lifted his head again.
“Go, go, go”, he muttered. The pack was closing in. Hell bent on taking out Lucy-gray.
They almost manage to, but Lucy-Gray slips through the broken door, and a squabble prohibits the hunters coming in.
He sighs. At least she was safe for now. He would worry about Jessup when it came time for it. Whats the point of worrying now? It was still anybody's game. He could very well die within the next hour from a surprise attack.
Coriolanus squirms in his seat watching as another child is hacked apart by dull weapons.
He pushes it from his mind as soon as the camera shifts. Lucy-Gray was safe, thats all that mattered. She still has a shot at winning.
Nothing more happened. All the tributes found shelter in one corner or another. Only Reaper paced the opened space, willing someone to come attack him.
Coriolanus wonders if you will be back. He hoped you would come check on him.
Coriolanus rises his head to the screen once more as Lamina makes her way up the broken fragments to where Marcus hung. Reaper gave her space, seemingly knowing what she was doing.
A small conversation between the two preceded Lamina swinging her axe down.
Coriolanus shudders hearing the impact. He hoped you didn’t see that.
He could only imagine the sobbing it would cause.
Lamina cuts marcus down and he falls like a bag of bricks.
She gazes down at him. Coriolanus couldn’t tell if it was in remorse, or in quiet pride of giving him a merciful death.
The sound of the drone coming near broke her concentration. The water attached swung in the air as it flew too fast towards her. She rose, reaching out to catch it.
Coriolanus almost laughed when it drove straight past her and smashed into the rocks.
The night dragged on, but Coriolanus remained. Eyes glued to the screen in hope of a glance of Lucy-Gray.
The camera stayed mainly above ground where the action was, but sometimes he got a dash at what Lucy-Gray was doing.
She was still alive. Or at least was, ten minutes ago.
The other mentors, and most of the audience had left as the night bled.
Nothing had really happened for hours. A squabble or a chase here and there but most of the fight had left the tributes.
“If only you could trap y/n as easily as you have trapped that poor girl”, Dean Highbottoms voice surprised Coriolanus.
“I’ve trapped her?”Coriolanus fought, “I didn’t create the Games”.
He saw Dean Highbottom flinch ever so slightly. If he hadn't been looking so intensely, he would have missed it.
“No”, Highbottom concedes, “but you’ve fueled its continuance. You’ve turned dying children into spectacles , Mr Snow. Congratulations”.
Coriolanus ignores him, turning back to the screens.
“Are you honestly hoping that winning the plinth prize will win you the girl?”, Dean Highbottom mocks.
“I am hoping my hard work will pay off”, Coriolanus bites.
“I saw you before with miss y/n, trying to stop her from leaving”.
“I was trying to stop her from making a fool out of herself”.
“What do you want from that poor girl?”.
Coriolanus knew there was no point in lying. Dean Highbottom had already figured out Coriolanus’ intentions.
“Only whats best”, he answers.
“Hm and you think winning the Plinth prize will help you decide what is best for her?”, Hightbom begins to laugh, his voice taking on a sing-songy tone, “Wake up mr Snow. Who do you think decides? Even if your songbird wins, I’ll do everything in my power to ensure you don’t see a single dime of that prize money’.
Coriolanus turns back to Highbottom with his anger logged in his throat.
The older man smiles back. Coriolanus knew the man was trying to get him to slip up. But his aggravation won’t lose him the prize. If Highbottom wanted it, he would have to rip it from Coriolanus’s hands.
Instead he turns back to the screen. Lucy-gray was still underground, feeding Jessup water.
He could hear Dean Highbottom walking away which left him with a small victory.
Coriolanus takes a deep breath, and sits straightener in his chair.
It wasn’t over. Dean Highbottom wasn’t the only authority. When Coriolanus won, surely Dr Gaul would fight for him. The other teachers too. The star pupil robbed of the victory? Coriolanus would see to an up roar.
At some point Coriolanus began to doze off. The late night and the slow turn of events left him the last one in the auditorium. The quietness of it all had his eyes shutting.
“Coriolanus?”. He heard your voice call.
He ignores it ,sure it was a dream. But you tap his arm, and his eyes shoot open to see you standing in front of him.
You were still in your school uniform, your hair slightly more messy than a couple of hours prior and you looked on the verge of tears.
It panicked him greatly to see you in such a state.
He reaches out, quickly taking your wrist in his hold.
“Huh, what happened? Are you okay?”, he asks.
“Has Sejanus been here?”, you quake.
Coriolanus shakes his head ‘no’.
He could have rolled his eyes. Of course, Sejanus was behind your tears once more. Coriolanus had never made you cry.
“Why would he be here?”, Coriolanus asks. It seemed an unlikely place to visit while his old friend lay dead on several different screens.
Tears begin to roll down your cheeks causing Coriolanus to spring up, attempting to bring you in his arms. You push him away, keeping an arms length distance between you both.
“I thought maybe he would come see you. We were sleeping and I woke up, and he was gone”, you explain with a shaky breath, “I don’t know where he could have went, Coriolanus. He’s not in a good place. I am worried-”
“Not in a good place, indeed” Dr Gauls voice booms through the open space.
This time when Coriolanus touched you, he was given permission. He pulls you next to him to face Dr Gaul together.
Dr Gaul was disinterested in the couple, taking the master remote and turning all the channels to the same camera.
“Sejanus!”, you gasp upon seeing your boyfriend knelt down next to his old friend in the arena.
Your hand takes a hold of Coriolanus' arm in a tight grip. Your painted nails dig into his uniform jacket.
“Breadcrumbs” Dr Gaul annotates while the room watches Sejanus spread the food over his friend, “I believe substance for a fallen comrade in his final journey. A district 2 superstition”.
“How did he get in there?” you question, never once tearing your eyes from the screen.
“I’ll work on finding the peacekeeper he bribed to let him in, and remove his tongue”, Dr Gual snarls, “in the meantime I need you to get him out right now”.
Dr Gaul looked directly at you which spiked Coriolanus heart rate,
“You should send Peacekeepers in”, he demanded. There was no way you were joining Sejanus in the arena.
“Only to have him bolt and hide like a rabbit?”, Dr Gaul retorts. “Fleix Ravenstill is fighting for his life in a hospital bed, Mr Snow. I will not have these rebels make a further mockery of my games. Anyone sees us lose control of this arena, it might as well be sounding a horn to the districts to revolt!”.
Dr Gaul takes a breath, trying to regain the composure lost. She turns her sight back on you, who had dropped Coriolanus' arm during her speech.
You stood brave, staring straight back at her with discontempt.
“You choose to be lovers with the radical. Don’t you want him out?”, Dr Gaul gages you.
Coriolanus steps forward trying to take Dr Gauls attention away from you.
‘‘Sending her into the arena will get her killed. It’ll look a lot worse if the tributes kill two Capitol students”, Coriolanus justifies.
“A volunteer then?”,Dr Gual pushes.
“I’ll go”, You say too quickly, “I can get him out”.
“I’ll go”, Coriolanus declares.
The mere thought of you in the arena left a sick feeling in his stomach. He wouldn’t watch helplessly on the other side of the screen while you risked your life for Sejanus.
He couldn’t believe Sejanus had put you in this position. Coriolanus’s every move was calculated with you in mind.
It was pure luck that you had chosen to seek Coriolanus out. If you hadn’t he would have woken the next morning to see you dead in the arena next to Sejanus.
He would go into the arena to save Sejanus if it meant saving you.
“No!” you protested, once again grabbing hold of Coriolanus arm to pull him back.
He turns to you with a look of irritation on his face.
“What chance do you think you stand if one of the tributes decide to attack? I am stronger, faster”, Coriolanus explained. He hated being irritated at you, but you wouldn’t see sense, “I’ll get him out, y/n. I promise”.
“Unless you are both secretly hoping he’ll die in that arena, we need to move fast”, Dr Gaul utters.
Her expression had changed from one of anger to quiet amusement, but she had not forgotten the task at hand.
She turns, expecting the children to follow her as she talks. Coriolanus follows suit, leading you as you wrap yourself around his arm.
He would have shaken you off. You had no place being even near the arena, let alone outside of its gates, but he loved the way you clung to him.
Your tight hold told him you would fight if he tried to leave you. Really it was the way you should be holding him. Not just now, in a state of emergency.
“I’ll freeze the feed for one hour”, Dr Gaul says as she moves out of the school, “I expect thats all the time we have until someone notices”.
A Peacekeeper van is waiting down the steps of the school. Dr Gaul jumps in, leaving the back of the van open for the children.
Coriolanus helps you up into the back of the van before lifting himself up behind you. The doors are closed shut as he enters, and the van takes off before he is fully sat next to you.
You are unusually quiet. Coriolanus could tell you were scared from the way you sat. Arms crossed across your chest, looking straight ahead of you with a glazed look.
Coriolanus places a hand on your knee in comfort but you don’t seem to register it.
He tries not to mind Dr Gauls' searing stare from the other bench. He focuses on you and your state of worry.
You begin to chew your lip absentmindedly. He wanted to pull it from between your teeth to get you to stop, but the van lurched forward as it stopped.
The drive wasn’t long, but the peacekeeper sped to it anyway.
As the doors are pulled open, Coriolanus takes a deep breath. There was no guarantee that he wouldn't be beaten to death by a tribute trying to save a man he loathed.
Grandma’am and Tigres wouldn’t survive without him, but if he died, he would at least make sure Sejanus died along with him.
If he couldn't have you, Sejanus definitely couldn’t.
“Lets go, Mr Snow”, Dr Gual urges.
She jumps out first. Coriolanus could hear her directing the Peacekeepers on what was about to happen.
You rise with Coriolanus. But He doesn’t allow you to get to the door as he does.
He jumps down and spins, placing his hand on the doors and bringing them closer together.
"Stay in the van”, he orders.
Surely, even on the off chance that a tribute managed to get through the gates, you would be safe in a locked van.
You nod your head in understanding, trying to ease his worry.
It doesn’t work but he appreciates it anyway.
He smiles up at you, taking the time to have a good look at you in case it was his last time.
With the doors shut on you, he could focus more clearly. He wasn’t going to die in that arena. He wasn’t going to die by a district hand.
He was going to get out alive. You were going to wake up to yourself and realise that you had been hopelessly in love with Coriolanus this whole time.
The gates are unlocked and he feels his confidence waver. Nevertheless, he persits with his mission and with a careful step he enters the arena.
It’s dark and quiet. The moonlight does little to help. A tribute could jump out at any time and Coriolanus would never see them coming.
He was cautious to make any sounds, stepping softly on the fragmented rocks.
The gate makes it stupid welcome message as he passes through it under the belief the game makers would have been smart enough to disable it.
His breath gets caught in his throat while waiting to see who it attracts. He doesn’t move.
He feels the blood rush to his ears, and his body ready itself to fight. No one comes.
Coriolanus’s eyes scan the room for whatever movement he could pick up on. It seemed there was none.
With a shaky breath he attempts to continue on, when his heightened ears pick up on a scuffle behind him.
He spins quickly, ready to dodge an attack. He wished it had been a tribute, and not you trying to climb over the turn stalls.
On its own accord, his face scrunches in anger. His footsteps are louder than he liked as he stormed over to you.
He takes your hips into what he was sure was a painful hold, and looks past you to see they had already locked the gate. You were now trapped in here with angry Tributes with nothing to lose.
Previously, he had never thought it possible to be angry with you. Now he wanted to scream in your face until you cried.
He helps you down, softly to the ground, and catches your hand harshly in his.
“You’re an idiot”, he whispers, “Stay close”.
He squeezes your fingers into the palm of his hand, but you make no complaint as you follow him into the arena.
Coriolanus felt his anxiety and senses heightened. He could faintly see Sejanus in the moonlight still knelt on the ground next to Marcus.
He felt you pull against his hold as you near Sejanus, but he refuses to let you go an inch.
If there was a tribute lurking he wanted to know where you were.
“Sejanus”, you whisper when you are within earshot.
He spins straight away upon hearing you. The panic he should have had all along, comes crashing all at once. He looked like a man who had seen a ghost as he rose from the floor.
‘What are you doing here?”, he questions in a strained, soft voice.
Sejanus takes your arms in his hands. Coriolanus wanted to yank you out of his hold, but a squabble would cause unnecessary attention.
“Get her out of here, Coryo”, Sejanus demands.
“I would like to. Believe me”, Coriolanus scolds. His eyes darted around the room, ensuring that all was still unnoticed.
“I am not leaving without you”, with your free hand you reach out to take a fist full of Sejanus shirt.
“I have to do this” Sejanus justifies, “I have to go where the cameras are”.
“You think anyone is watching this?” Coriolanus spat, taking a step closer to the couple, “Gaul cut the feed. Tributes kill you in here, she’s just going to say you died from the flu”.
“They won’t kill me”, Sejanus vows.
“Yes they will!” you reproach.
Maybe there was hope for you, Coriolanus thinks, Maybe Sejanus hadn’t brainwashed you fully.
The moonlight as it bounces off Lamina’s axe catches Coriolanus’s eye, and the safety net had now disappeared. She wouldn’t attack, but she could draw attention at any time.
“You need to decide right now”, Coriolanus demands, he breaks Sejanus' hold on you in case you need to run, and focuses Sejanus attention on himself, “do you want to fight these tributes or fight for them? Because if you want to make real change, you need to stay alive”.
“How can I make any change from out there?”, Sejanus discredits his power.
He was not worthy of his power if he had no brains on how to use it.
“You’re rich, smart. You care. You stood up to Gaul in that class, didn’t you? Spend your fathers money, do some real good”, a clash of the metal resounds in the arena. More would wake from the noise, and the group wouldn’t stand a chance.
“We’re dead. Y/n’s dead if we don’t leave right now”, Coriolanus reprimand, “Come with us, or just be another body in Gaul’s war”.
He knew he would have to fight to get you to leave Sejanus. But he was only allowing a few more seconds before he raced you to the exit.
Worried that you would get yourself killed in the struggle to save Sejanus, Coriolanus turns to begging as a last resort.
Placing a hand on Sejanus' shoulder, he brings the delusional boy closer.
You tug on Sejanus' shirt to move, “Come” you implore.
His large, dirty palm goes over your hand, “Alright”, he whispers.
The attack came at the perfect time. Coriolanus heard the shuffling of the boys shoes giving him time to pull you back towards the exit, before the war cry resounded through the arena.
“Go, Run!” he demands, pushing you ahead of him.
You sprint as fast as you can across the broken floor. Coriolanus caught up easily, pushing you forward urging you to move faster.
Sejanus lagged behind, choosing to look at the fast approaching tribute.
“Go! Go!” Coriolanus yells at you when you turn around to see where Sejanus was.
You don’t look back again, until you reach the turn stalls.
Coriolanus jumps over with ease, turning back to help you over. You stumble as your foot gets stuck on the rusty metal turn, and Coriolanus drags you over it as fast as he could.
His hand takes a hold of yours once more as Sejanus approaches the stand with the tribute hot on his heels.
He runs forward with you, eager to get you to safety beyond the gates.
Sejanus screams as he stumbles over the hard metal and you halt your quick pace to safety.
You call for him, trying to tug your hand out of Coriolanus’s. He resists, trying to get you to leave Sejanus.
Coriolanus promises to go back for him once you were beyond the gates but you wouldn’t have it.
He drops your hand, rathering his own life to be in danger for Sejanus than yours.
Coriolanus reaches Sejanus quicker than you do, and yanks him off the ground.
‘Come on, get up!”Sejanus tries to regain his feet but his knee refuses to take any weight, “y/n, get to the gate!”, Coriolanus commands.
You don’t turn, running towards Sejanus instead of away. You take his other arm over your shoulder, trying to assist Coriolanus.
The screaming of the tribute came closer, and before Coriolanus could move, the sharp edge of a blade hacked into his shoulder. It was a far swing from the tribute but with enough force to split skin.
He drops Sejanus to dodge the next attack. You fall into the wall, unable to support Sejanus by yourself.
The tribute now closer, stalks over to you with his sword held high. Sejanus tries a feeble attempt to shield you, but Coriolanus takes hold of a metal ruin that was stuck between cement, determined that not one hair on your head would be touched.
He scrambles off the ground and swings the cement at the tribute with a loud scream.
The young boy stumbles off balance, but readies himself again. He swung back with the blade which Coriolanus narrowly missed before bringing the cement down across the boy's head.
It lands him on the ground, but Coriolanus doesn’t stop there, bringing it down once more on the boy who threatened his girl
“Coriolanus!” you call to him. More tributes were coming out of the shadows.
He drops his weapon, going back over to you to help lift the weight of Sejanus.
Sejanus pushes through the pain to quicken the pace of the shuffle, but comotion had inlived the most dangerous pack. Corals groups hooped and hollered as they approached.
“Y/n, open the gate!”, Coriolanus demands, wanting you to be first out.
Sejanus drops his arm from your shoulder, and you take the permission to take off ahead and bang on the gate until it opens.
Coriolanus could hear the tributes as they run. They weren’t far off. He wasn’t sure they would even make it to the gate in time, but you would and that’s what matters.
You push yourself out with the gate as it opens, turning back to look at the boys with wide, fearful eyes.
Coriolanus pushes himself to be faster, taking nearly all of Sejanus' weight onto him.
They make it just in time, and fall to a heap on the floor next to Peacekeepers boots.
Corioanus pushes Sejanus off him. His hand reaches for his shoulder that now weeped blood.
He groans as he feels the ache of the gash, next to his still searing burn mark.
He is distracted momentarily when Coral reaches the gate, and throws her spear into it.
“Keep your eyes on the screen, gorgeous”, she taunts Coriolaus, throwing her head in the direction of you, “ I may have missed her tonight, but your songbirds next on my list”.
The Peacekeepers demand that her group get back and the tributes disappear back into the dark tunnel.
He had followed Corals gaze to you on the floor. Your tears run down your cheeks now that the adrenaline is gone.
Coriolanus moves to get you off the floor and into his arms, but you move as he does, and crawl across the floor to where Sejanus lay.
You wrap your arms around his neck and sob into him.
“I am okay”, he promises. His large hand rubs soothing circles on your back.
You pull back in anger and begin hitting his chest as you speak.
“How could you?”, you reprimand, “how could you do that?”.
“I am sorry, I had to do something”. Sejanus winces as he tries to sit up. His knee no doubt, completely ruined.
“You could have been killed”, you cry with a push against his attempted hold.
Was this the end of the bleeding heart couple? Coriolanus felt a spark of joy, watching as you fought.
“Coriolanus could have died!”, as if you had forgotten about him you now turn to him, ‘Oh, Coriolanus”, you cry, “Are you okay?”.
Coriolanus hand went back to his shoulder, feeling the wet patch of blood soak through his school jacket. He had no other uniform, even Tigres wouldn't be able to fix it.
“Coryo, I am so sorry”, Sejanus apologies. It meant nothing to Coriolanus who ignored him.
A car screeches to a stop and two car doors slam.
The car is sleek and expensive with its own full time driver waiting with the lights on.
Next to it stood Ma and Mr Plinth, who were well dressed as always.
Ma was crying, but Mr Plinth stood stoic and angry.
He gave Coriolanus a thankful nod but remained far away expecting his son to come to him.
Ma runs over to her baby, wrapping herself around her sons head.
Coriolanus takes the opportunity to move closer to you. You stand upon seeing him approach.
“Are you alright?’, he questioned.
You reach up, taking his neck and bringing him down into a hug. He gratefully goes, never expecting a hug before the relationship began.
“Thank you, Coriolanus. I would have died in there”, you muttered.
The hug is too short, before he is ready you are pulling away to look at his shoulder.
“Coriolanus needs help!’, you announce, “Somebody needs to take him to the hospital!”.
“Come with me”, he begs you.
“Don’t worry, Miss y/n. I’ll take care of our hero here”, Dr Gaul inserts herself where she is not wanted once more. She looked amused at Coriolanus’s physical and emotional pain.
“Y/n, baby”, Sejanus calls to you. The driver had left the car to assist Sejanus while his father looks on.
Coriolanus reluctantly lets go as you move to the sound of your name.
“You’ll look after him?”, you question Dr Gaul. Coriolanus wanted to beg you not to believe her.
“He’ll be good as new. You have my word”, Dr Gaul promises.
He shutters as you move further back.
Mr Plinth does not cross for his son, but he crosses to come collect you.
He wraps an arm around your shoulder to lead you to the car.
You look back at Coriolanus as you are led. Taking one final glance before entering the car with Sejanus.
Coriolanus watches as the car takes off. He wondered if you had your arms wrapped around Sejanus in the back.
He decides it is best not to submit his body to further stress and pushes it out of his mind. The walk home would help him clear his head, and focus only on the positives of the night. You relied on him tonight. Even acknowledged that he had saved your life. That was a step in the right direction.
“And where do you think you are going, Mr Snow”, Dr Gaul calls out after him.
“Home”, he announces over his good shoulder.
‘And make a liar out of me?” she walks in the opposite direction towards the Peacekeeper van, “Come”.
The ride back is silent. The same hurry to get there was not offered on the way back. Coriolanus shoulder ached, the blood would not stop pouring, sticking his shirt to his back and irritating his wound.
Dr gaul doesn’t speak again until they are back in her lab.
He couldn’t believe she had taken him back to her experimental freak show instead of a hospital. But he was in pain and in need of medical care so he didn’t verbalize his complaints.
“How did it feel?” she asks as she readies her station for him, “when you killed the boy to save y/n?”.
He should have known she was watching.
‘I didn’t have a choice”, he spat as he unbuttoned his shirt and took a seat in front of her.
She laughs at him as she begins her first stitch.
“All your fine manners, education, background, stripped away in a blink of an eye. Fueled with the terror of becoming prey, how fast we become predators".
Coriolanus lets out a shaky breath as the adrenaline dies down and the needle stitches him together.
“Who would have thought that one day Crassus Snow’s boy would be fighting for his life in the area over a girl?”, he feels her stop stitching while she waits for the answer to her next question, “That's why you did it no? It wasn’t until news of her involvement that you volunteered. Or did you still wish to proceed with the guise of friendship?”
“Sejanus is not my friend”, Coriolanus declares.
Her needle work began again, pleased with his answer.
“You want to protect y/n, Mr Snow? Then it’s essential that you accept what human beings are, and what it takes to control them”.
He feels her knot the thread into his skin
“So I’ll ask you again, when you beat that boy to death with a club, how did it feel?”.
“It felt”, Coriolanus breathed, wondering if he should give the honest answer. Deciding he had nothing to lose from it, he answers.
“It felt powerful”.
“Answer this next one honestly and you won’t have to walk home”, Dr Gaul teases, “Were you hoping that Sejanus died tonight?”
“Yes”, Coriolanus croaks. His own tears welling in his eyes. He refuses to let any more than two fall, which are wiped away harshly.
“How did it feel to have her life in your hands tonight?”, Dr Gaul pushes.
Coriolanus nods, unable to form words.
A hand is placed on his good shoulder. She squeezes to let him know the sincerity of her words.
“People will do anything to survive, Mr Snow. It doesn’t matter how miserable of an existence it is”.
Coriolanus thinks to his bare apartment, and cinder block bed. It was true, and he was living proof.
Survival meant hope.
He closes his eyes, feeling more tears forming and remembers how malleable you were tonight. You trusted him wholly with your survival, and with that came power over you.
Lucy-Gray was the same. Tonight you showed him the same loyalty, and respect that you had denied him previously.
Lucy-Gray had tried to kiss him, and you melded your body to him when you could. He was sure if you were alone, you would have kissed him for saving your life.
If only he could trap you as easily as Lucy-gray. Keep you in a state of panic that rendered you totally dependent on him.
He lets out a low, breathy laugh, remembering Dean Highbottoms words.
Maybe the old man could see more than Coriolanus would like.
Despite the pain in his shoulder and his little sleep, Coriolanus arrived back at the auditorium bright and early.
Lucy-Gray was still alive. He could see her sleeping against a pole next to Jessup.
The dead tribute was noticed, but soon forgotten. Only Lysistrata pushed to know more, but she too dropped the subject as the tributes began to wake and fight.
There were ten tributes left. Not an impossible task for Lucy-Gray to outlive them all.
He kept careful watch of the screens. While the rest of the mentors took lunch, and socialized, Coriolanus sat with his head in his hand, hoping for a split second of screen time that told him Lucy-Gray was okay.
“Coriolanus!”. Your voice shocked him as it appeared.
He stood to greet you. It was a welcomed but unexpected visit. The games were announced a public holiday, you had no obligation to be at school.
He would have thought after last night that you would be glued to Sejanus’s side. Was this the beginning of the end?
“Y/n, what are you doing here?”, he questioned.
In the daylight he could see a bruise on your temple from when toppled into the wall, under Sejanus. He reaches out to run his finger across the black spot, and you hit his hand away.
“What are you doing here?”, you push back with a hard tone “I went to your house to check on you, but Tigres said you were here?”.
Coriolanus felt his body twitch at your words. You went to his run down apartment? How much did you see? Surely, Tigres shielded his shame. Your eyes didn’t carry pity, maybe you didn’t know.
“Don’t you ever go to my apartment without my permission again”, he scolded.
That was close. Too close. He was days from getting the plinth prize. Days from burying his decade long shame.
You seemed drawn back at his harsh tone. He had never spoken to you unkindly before.
In an effort to ease the mood once more, before you left, he threw his hands up as if it wasn’t a big deal.
“My Grandmother has severe social anxiety. We can’t have unexpected visitors”, he lies with a soft and airy tone.
“Oh, I am sorry. I didn’t know”, you offer.
Coriolanus tuts, bringing his hand up once more to brush the hair off your bruise.
“You shouldn’t have been in there”, he complains.
The bruise looked painful. He was sure it would cause you a headache. You should be resting with ice upon it, not here talking to him.
“No one should be in there”, you return.
His hand is pushed away again, but he attributes it being too soft to touch, rather than disdain for him touching you.
"Thank you for checking on me”, he says.
“You shouldn’t be here, Coriolanus. Not after last night”.
“Lucy-Gray needs me”, he observes.
Your eyes flick to the screen behind him, before back to Coriolanus’s eyes and nod in agreement.
“Sejanus is in the hospital. They have him on morphline. His knee will never work fully, but he is alive and that's because of you”, you proclaim, “Lucy-Gray is fortunate to have you looking out for her. We all are”.
His heart flutters. ‘We all are’, yes! Yes! You were lucky to have him looking out for you. Have you finally come to appreciate all he does for you?
He smiles down at you. If his shoulder didn’t ache, he would have reached out for you.
“If there’s anything I can do”, you offer.
“There is!” He responds too quickly.
He clears his throat, trying to conceal his eagerness.
“There is”, repeats more even toned, “You could stay. I could use the support”.
You looked unsure of the request, but he had saved your life just hours prior, so you felt an obligation to do as he asked.
“Sure, Coriolanus”, you finally say, although you still looked unsure, “I can stay for a little bit”.
He could barely breathe. The “great” he manages to get out is hardly above a whisper.
He leads you to the front bench just in front of the first row of mentor chairs.
You sit obediently and he takes his new seat in front of you.
The tributes have become more lively. Coral was on the hunt for Lucy-Gray trying to convince one of her group members to go down and flush her out.
None would so they go back to making traps to catch Reaper.
Coriolanus reaches his hand back to you, trying to see how far his luck would take him.
You do take his hand into your own, but only for the time it took to give him three encouraging pats to the back of his hand.
It was close enough. Leaving Coriolanus with a feeling of satisfaction.
The feeling stayed for less than a second. His good mood disappeared when the camera flew back to Lucy-Gray underground.
Jessup was getting agitated. Yelling at Lucy-Gray and twitching uncontrollably.
“What’s he doing?”Coriolanus jumps out of his chair and moves closer to the screens.
“They’re friends. He wouldn’t hurt her”, you comment, coming up beside him.
“Somethings wrong”, Lysistrata agrees, “He wouldn’t turn on her like this”.
Lucy-Gray makes a mad dash away which only further angers Jessup, determined that he had done something.
Coriolanus watches in panic. Lucy-gray couldn't defend herself. She would never hurt Jessup, even in his mad state.
“Go to the stands, go to the stands!”, he directs.
Lucy-gray does go to the stands, climbing up as fast as she could but Jessup was determined to catch her.
Coriolanus couldn’t watch. He turns and paces, trying to figure out a way to save Lucy-Gray.
It couldn’t be over. You had only just come around, he needed more time.
The camera zooms in on Jessup allowing full view of the white form dripping down his lips.
‘Wait, look”, he tells you.
Your hand balls at your mouth. He hated to see you so frightened yet again.
As soon as this was all over, he would ensure nothing would ever worry you again.
“I think it rabies," he announces.
He could have danced. There was a way out of this mess. The game wasn’t over yet.
“That bite from the train”, Lysistrata deducts.
“Send him water”. He demands of Lysistrata.
“What? No”, she denines.
He leans across her desk so she is forced to look at him. He was half tempted to just take control of her computer himself.
“You remember the posters from the war. Rabies. It makes you scared of water. Send him a drone”, he demanded.
“That’ll scare him”.
He knew Livy had come to care for Jessup
“Yes” Coriolanus agrees in a hard tone, “away from her”.
Lysistrata still looked in denial. There was no other option, both their tributes didn’t have to die.
“Jessup is done”, he says with haste, “Livy, you’re the only one that can get it right to him”.
Coming to grips with reality, Livy does as she is told, sending a water drone in the direction of Jessup.
“Thank you”, Coriolanus feels better watching the drone fly in.
“Nothing to be proud of”, Livy mutters.
As planned, the drone smashes into him just as he reaches Lucy-gray.
He hears you gasp as Jessup falls to his death and hits the bottom with a heavy thud.
He turns to see you still with your hand pressed tightly against your mouth, and eyes squeezed shut.
The sight makes him feel horrible that he had asked you to stay.
You were on the side of his sore shoulder so he had to reach across with his good hand to touch you.
“Coryo”, Livy called as Carol’s group came out of hiding.
The hand on you balls watching as Corals group surrounds Lucy-gray.
“Oh no”, he complains.
He needed to make a distraction, so she could run and hide. He couldn’t just stand and watch. But the only thing he could do was send food and water in on badly operated drones.
The same badly operated drones that just took Jessup out.
He reaches for his communipad, and selects as many bottles of water as it would let him.
He didn’t need to kill the group. Only give Lucy-Gray a chance to get away
The drones go flying in. He hoped Lucy-Gray wouldn’t give the surprise away, but she managed to keep her cool until it was time to duck.
“Hey! You can’t attack the tributes” a fellow mentor complained.
“I am just sending water”, Coriolanus jeered.
He could hear your chuckle of approval behind him. You reach out to his good shoulder and murmur in his ear.
“Good work”, you encouraged.
He wished he could have stayed in the moment but it wasn’t over yet. Lucy-gray disappears into the dust, taking with her a bottle of water.
She hides in the shelter of the ruin and he can faintly see her take something from her dress pocket.
No there, he wanted to say. What if someone saw her poison the water and he was disquailified.
He looks around the room to check no one else is noticing. All eyes seemed to be on the group turning against Lamina.
Lucy-Gray ducks back out with the water, placing it back on the ground before emptying the others collected. It wasn’t a bad idea.
Lamina's death stopped the clock and the attention was once more turned back to Lucy-gray.
“Go” you mutter, flicking your hands out as if she could see.
Lucy-Gray takes off with Coral and her group chasing her back up the stands. She finds an air duct and dives to close it in time.
Coral catches it before it fully closes and it begins a tug of war against the two.
“No, No”, you complain.
He wanted to shield your eyes from the screen. With every inch Coral got, Lucy-Gray found the strength to tug it back.
When it finally closes, sealing Lucy-gray in safety, Coriolanus lets out a sigh of relief.
“She’s Okay” he says to you.
Coral takes out another tribute over a squabble over the water, and Dill drinks the poisoned water.
So that was three dead tributes in less than 20 minutes. With this pace Coriolanus would be announced winner before the night ended.
He sat you back down on your seat, and retook his in front of you. Your fingers cling to the bench underneath you, and your posture is tight and unnatural.
He expects you to leave him, but you remain watching as Reaper collects the fallen tributes into a neat line and draps the Panam flag over him.
“Are you going to punish me now?” reaper yells to the cameras.
He begins to scream again but his words are cut off by a broadcast from Dr Gaul.
“Capitol Citizens, I’m afraid I must interrupt our games to announce a tragic loss. Fleix Ravienstill, son of our beloved president, has this morning succumbed to his injuries sustained in the rebel bombing.Out there, in the districts, they will be celebrating this young boys death. I will not allow my games to give our enemies such a victory. I swear to you here and now, before the sun goes down tonight, a rainbow of destruction will engulf our arena. Even if it means there’s to be no victor in these games”.
The broadcast ends, and the tributes go back on screen.
“What?” you spit, “What does she mean no victor? That's not fair. She can't do that”.
You rise from your outrage, ranting to Coriolanus. Your anxiety has been taken over by your anger. Coriolanus agreed it was not fair. All his hard work gone down the drain because of the death of Felix, who was never going to amount to anything anyway.
A rainbow of destruction. The snakes. There was no way he could protect lucy-Gray from them.
He would need something with her scent. Could he get the string of her guitar that she played in the interviews? He didn’t even know where it was. By the time he found it, the Games were sure to be over.
Maybe, he could go to the zoo. Toss as many things as he could into the snake pit and hope one of them was hers? It might mean the survival of everyone but her too.
The zoo, he remembers. He digs into his breast pocket to pull out the handkerchief he used to wipe her tears away. If the sweat of his palm can keep him safe against the snakes, then surely her fresh tears dried on the handkerchief could.
He had to get it to the lab before it was too late.
He grabs your forearms and turns you away from the screen to him so he had your full attention.
“Stay here, okay. I’ll be right back”. He commands.
“Where are you going?”, you ask astounded that he could be leaving after such news.
“Just stay here. Don’t move”, he reiterated.
You nod sensing his urgency and he dashes out of the auditorium into the empty hallway.
He knew he couldn’t walk into Dr Guals lab without a reason, and begging for Lucy-Grays life wasn’t a good one.
As he jogs down the steps, he claws at the stitches in his back, reopening the wound.
He groans from the pain but ensures all eight stitches have torn open.
His body is weak as he sprints to Dr gauls lab. It barely gets him through the front door, where he demands to see Dr gaul.
As if she was expecting him, the Peacekeeper lets him directly through.
“Come to beg for her life?” Dr gaul asks uninterested.
“No” Coriolanus puffs, “No, my stitches. They came loose. I didn’t want the doctors asking questions”.
She looks at him suspiciously but relents, going to her work table.
“Come, pull down your shirt”, she directs.
He walks past a row of black birds locked in cages. Her newest toys.
“The news must have shocked you Mr Snow. With no tributes, no victor, with no victor, no girl”.
Coriolanus faces the birds as Dr Gaul stitches the needle into his shoulder. He eyes the large snake tank in the corner and the people who ready it for transport.
“Y/n’s actually at the auditorium. She came to support me. She’s the one who noticed the stitches”, Coriolanus lies.
“Support you and not her boyfriend in hospital? Things are looking promising”, she says.
"Looking promising, looking promising” her voice echoes across the room. Seemingly from the mouth of the birds.
She sighs and stops stitching to click a receiver.
“Jabberjays”, she explained, “We sent them out during the war to pick up rebel conversations. A failed experiment. They only pick up useless phrases unless manually operated. I am collecting them to see what better purpose they serve”.
Coriolanus remains quiet trying to figure out how he could reach the cage before it was too late.
The needle knots in his back, a feeling Coriolanus had come to know to mean that the stitching was done.
“I’ll see you and your girl back in the auditorium for the finale, Mr Snow”, Dr Gaul dismisses, “you should be proud of yourself. Your songbird put on a wonderful show, and you didn’t need money to steal the girl after all”.
Coriolanus quickly buttons up his shirt, watching as the cage was wheeled out.
“Thank you, Dr Gaul”, he says.
He races to catch up to the assistants wheeling the cage, pretending to be following them out.
They don’t see him as a threat so pay him no mind. He falls back as they take a hallway just off the exit, and watches as they leave the cage out for an airlift.
He stays hidden behind a pole until it was time. Leaving his jacket to keep the door wedged open. With their back turned, he dashes out to cage. The snakes are upset when he slams into the large cage, beginning to move and fight with each other.
He finds an air hole large enough and stuffs the handkerchief in. it moves along the bodies of the snakes until Coriolanus could no longer see the white in between the rainbow.
When the harness is lowered, Coriolanus makes a run back to the door, taking his jacket and making his own exit from the Citadel.
He pays for the taxi this time. Sure that his body couldn’t take anymore strain.
It cost him his fathers watch, but he arrived back in the auditorium before the entrance of the snakes.
“What happened?” he quizzes you, taking a hold of your arm, “Lucy-gray is she okay?”.
You point to the screen where Coral and Treech poke and prod a vent.
“She’s in there”, you address with horror in your voice.
Treech points up and Coral takes his palace directly under the vent.
Blocking the camera, Treech begins to sway of balance and nose begins leek small amounts of blood.
“Wait, what's wrong with Treech?” his mentor asks.
Corilanious was worried about his own tribute, who was three lucky strikes away from being impaled.
Coral hits the metal too many times and the vent collapses on top of her.
Coriolanus' hand latches out to yours, which you accept with the same nervous tension in your fingers.
“Run, run” Coriolanus begs.
She runs back into the arena. Not the safest place with reaper still sitting by the dead tributes.
Coral chases after her, too slow to catch up.
The whole arena stops when the chopper lowers in the cage.
“Please work”, Coriolanus whispers.
“What is that?” you ask.
“Wouldn’t it be fun if it was candy?” Lucy Flickerman answers you.
Coriolanus feels your hand tense in his, then open in surprise when the glass cage cracks and the snakes fly out.
“Not candy!” Lucky Flickerman announces as three tributes are overtaken in rainbow.
The Snakes chase the last two tribute who head to the stands for higher ground.
“Lucy-Gray, please” Coral begs. The snakes lash at her heels as she tries to drag herself up the stands, “Please it couldn’t have all be for nothing”.
It was. More snakes latch on and Coral dies with two loud screams.
“Now all colors lead to Gray” Lucy Flickerman narrates.
The snakes slither up and around Lucy-Gray but none bite her.
Coriolanus lets out an unbelievable scoff.
‘She’s..She’s won” he says watching as the snakes continue to follow Lucy-Gray. He had won. The 10th annual victor. She was last standing, even Dean Highbottom couldn’t contest his win.
“It’a over. She won”, he says in a louder voice. Why was no one doing anything to stop the snakes, “Let her out!”
“Afraid that’s not your call to make, mr Snow”, Lucky insists.
He turns to the audience. Dr Gaul had come to see the final show. She sat high up in the breeches and must of come in when Coriolanus was distracted.
He drops your hand so he could turn and face her. She stared back with the same hateful and curious gaze. She knew what he had done.
But if she squealed on him, he would return the favor.
Your hands fly up to your face once more when Lucy-gray begins to sing. Tears pour from your eyes watching the young girl sing her last song.
Looking to get away from the camera that played on your pain, you pushed your way to the back.
“Dr gaul. She’s won”, Coriolanus yells, “It’s over let her out”.
“Why aren’t they attacking her?” Festus asks.
Dr Gual raises her eyebrows at him in a mocking fashion.
“It must be the signing. It’s calming them”, he deceives.
“She can’t sing forever”, Festus comments bitterly.
She just needs to sing long enough for Coriolanus to figure out a way to get her out.
“Dr Gaul, please”, Coriolanus tries, “Get her out”.
He could see the audience engrossed in the scene. He just needed to figure out how to turn it against Dr Gaul.
“Get her out!”, you yell across the room, following Coriolanus stare to Dr gaul.
Her eyes flick to you and you scream at her once more to release Lucy-gray.
Others join, chanting in protest.
“Who will watch the games if there is no victor?” he threatens.
Dr Gaul raises her hand to silence the audience, before turning to her assistant.
“Get her out”, she says loud enough for everyone to hear.
A cheer erupts the auditorium and Dr gaul wades herself through it to the silence of the hallway.
“She’s won! Lucy-Gray! Coriolanus Snow is the winner of the tenth annual Hunger games!” Lucky announces.
People rush from the stands to swarm him. Offering him congratulations and applause.
It all felt real now. He had done it. The plinth prize, you, were all his now.
He pushes to the crowd to get to where you stood in front of the bleaches.
You were smiling and clapping. He wasn’t sure if it was entirely for him, or if you were just glad Lucy-gray would live.
You looked beautiful and for once Sejanus was nowhere by your side. In this moment, you were entirely his.
You treated you as such, taking your face between his hands and stilling you for a kiss.
His lips smashed against you, his teeth nipped at the skin of your bottom lip asking you to part them for him.
You don’t pull away at first, but his lips are on you for less than ten seconds before you are shoving against his sore shoulder.
He is forced to drop his hand upon the impact. His shoulder ached from pain of being moved, and on reflux he lowered his arm to ease it.
Coriolanus could tell by the look on your face, you did not enjoy the kiss. Did he come on too strong? Did he accidently hit your bruise when he kissed you?
He opened his mouth to apologize for the above, but you took off before he could catch you.
It was impossible to follow you through the crowd of people. People would not part to let him through.
Some jeered at him for being pushed away but most still rode his victory wave.
Had he made a mistake? Where you not ready to leave Sejanus for him yet?
You had no right to reject him. He had won. Saved your life. Risked his own.
Coriolanus took a seat while the crowd surrounded him, and then disappeared. He stayed there until he was summoned by a peacekeeper much later.
He figured he was to see his victor before they sent her back home. The Peacekeeper led him to a chamber, but Lucy-Gray was nowhere to be seen.
“Lucy-Gray?” he called, “Lucy-Gray?”.
He sees a table in the middle of the room with his fathers handkerchief and his mother compact.
“To think, Mr Snow, you almost had it all” Dean Highbottom's voice taunts him.
“Where’s Lucy-Gray?”Coriolanus demanded. Had they hurt her for Coriolanus’s mistake?
“I would be more worried about yourself” Highbottom answered, stalking towards him.
“First y/n rejects you and now the prize money slips through your fingers”, Highbottom torments, “it’s fitting that both your parents could be here for your big moment”.
He gestures to the items on the table in front of Coriolanus.
“That compact, how many times did I see your mother use it? Come now, we both know that child from eleven didn’t die of disease. And that old handkerchief, we found it in the snake tank, condemning you with your fathers own initials”.
Highbottom rounds Coriolanus completely before standing in front of Coriolanus across the table.
“President Ravenstill has left your form of punishment up to me, and I’ve decided banishment to the districts where you’ll serve your Capitol in exile for the next twenty years as an anonymous, peacekeeping grunt”.
Dean Highbottom grins at Coriolanus who felt too frozen to do anything.
“You’ll never get your hands on y/n. She’s too good for you Mr Snow. By the time you get back I imagine her and Sejanus will be married with three or four children”.
It was true. Coriolanus wouldn’t be able to block the ongoing turn of events that was sure to happen with Sejanus. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t how things were supposed to go. He had worked so hard to have you, only to be taken away as soon as he got on equal footing with Sejanus.
“You hear that boy? That’s the sound of snow failing”, Highbottom proclaims.
He’ll be left with nothing more than a memory of you, while you will forget completely of the man who loved you so.
WARNINGS: demon!Loki, DUB-CON, NON-CON, faint side of Peter x reader (if you squint)
➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts | dividers by @firefly-graphics
This is the end! This was originally going to be 3 parts but then I decided on 5 before finally deciding on 4. Just a self indulgent little halloween piece for October. Hope you guys had fun reading this.
summary: holding the title for the most doted on Avenger, the rest of the team begins to worry when you start to display uncharacteristic behavior. You brush off their concern, assuring them that everything is fine. You have it under control, but how can you control the voice inside your head when it doesn’t belong to you?
WARNINGS: NON-CON/DUB-DON, alpha!Peter, innocent!reader, loss of virginity (both m and f), controlling and possessive behavior
summary: when Peter Parker literally crashes into your life, falling in love with the handsome alpha was inevitable. Thinking he isn’t like the rest, you don’t take heed of the red flags until its too late
“If its heads, Abbie here takes all of this, with my blessing”
“Tommy..”
“And if it's tails.. I fuck your daughter, Mr Gold.. You have four daughters, I hear. Y/n is the oldest and the prettiest, so I’ll have her”
You watch as the coin flips in the air, shielding your three younger sisters; Esmeralda, Vanessa and Ursula from the man in the black coat as you stand in front of your caravan. Charlie Strong has graciously allowed your family to park the caravans you live in and travel with in his yard and you fold your arms as you watch your father peer down at the coin.
Your sisters are young, 21, 19 and 17 respectively and you are more than glad of your brother Bonnie being the shield between your own self and the man who is bartering with your Father.
“Go on inside, girls. It’s okay”
You shut the doors behind them, leaning on the wood as you watch the man, who’s name you have learned to be Thomas Shelby. He’s tall with broad shoulders, a stoic face and eyes so blue they look like ice. His gaze falls on you and he smirks, before making a show of looking down at the coin.
“Tails..” His eyes land on you once again and you press your back further into the wood of the door behind you. Your fingers link with Bonnie’s and you glance at him, begging silently for your brother to step in and say something. You aren’t exactly a virgin, having lost your innocence a year prior to your husband. The marriage was short lived and produced no children and your father had paid him a substantial amount of money to leave and never look back.
You tense as Tommy takes a step forward, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth and you watch as he eyes you up and down. Like he’s a sailor on a ship and you are the last bottle of booze he can have until he goes back to shore “Miss Gold?”
“Mr Shelby” Your eyes lock with his and you shudder as he extends his hand, placing your own in his much larger one as you step down the few steps and walk closer to him. A single finger tilts your chin up and you gulp as his eyes dart around your face before his hand grips your jaw and his thumb swipes a trail across your cheek, sparking your cheeks to flame a crimson colour “Such beauty. It's a waste”
“Mr Shelby?”
His smile is brief as he steps closer and you swallow thickly as his gaze never wavers from your face. The instinct to step back and run is great but his hypnotising gaze has you stuck, his hand cradles your jaw and you suck in a breath. There is obviously something between you both, a crackle of energy which is clearly felt by you both.
“Your father’s given you to me, Miss Gold”
You don’t have a chance to respond as Tommy’s hand slides from your chin to your elbow and he moves you to the car with Arthur following suit. You steal a glance back to your brother and sisters and nod watching as Bonnie slips into his own caravan while Tommy forces you into the waiting car. The nerves bubble in your stomach and you don't look back as Bonnie leaves his caravan with his pistol, letting your arms fold around your body.
“Are you a virgin?” Your head shakes from side to side as you watch Tommy process the information he’d been given you then you glance at Arthur in the front passenger seat next to their cousin Michael behind the driver’s wheel. "I’m not a Virgin.. I’m married, Mr Shelby”
His smirk is amused and you stifle a gasp as his hand rests on your knee, you don't know when he took off his gloves but you watch his hand slide under your dress, stifling a scream as his fingers find your clit.
You squirm in your seat under his gaze then let your head fall back as his fingers slowly push inside you, his fingers monotonous as they move forwards and backwards. “Look at you, taking my fingers so well.. Like such a good girl, ‘eh?”
When you don’t respond, his thumb finds your clit, making a yelp come from your lips as he presses down and holds it in place. One perfect brow raises as Tommy simply watches you, waiting for the words he knows will tumble from your lips, whether you want them to or not. More delicious pressure is added to your clit and you gasp, rasping out an answer you and he both know you don’t quite mean.
But it pleases Tommy either way “More.. I want more”
His fingers crook upwards and you let out a pathetic noise that seems to go straight to Tommy’s cock, making the front of his trousers bulge. Your eyes go straight there and you inhale a breath, trying to silence the noises from your lips. The scent of his cologne fills your nose, woody and musky and everything masculine and a moan slips involuntarily, prompting Tommy to withdraw his fingers only to shove them back in and make your moan louder.
Your legs part as Tommy’s fingers coax and prod against your g-spot, and you fight every need in you to moan as his fingers move faster and harder “Look at you, with my fingers in your cunt. Are you enjoying this?”
“No..” You gasp and another moan pulls from your lips as he chuckles, leaning in to whisper into your ear “I think you’re lying. Good little whores don’t lie”
“I’m not..” You mewl, eyes rolling back as you cum hard, unsure what the feeling is. “I’m not a whore”
“Not a whore, hm?” He acts like he’s thinking it over, nodding his head. He holds his hand up in front of your face, pressing his fingers to your lips and the taste of your arousal and orgasm makes your head swim as his fingers push in your mouth “Suck them clean”
You don't even think of arguing as you suck Tommy’s fingers clean making sure you get all the slick that coats them and you let out a whine as he pulls his fingers free from your mouth before climbing gracefully from the car and extending his hand to you. You obediently take his hand and climb out of the car, staring up at the impressive house in awe.
The crunching of gravel is the only noise to ground you as Tommy pulls you towards the imposing house by your elbow. He lets himself in, passing his hat and coat to a lady - Most likely the housekeeper. You catch her name, Frances and you smile at her politely before Tommy pulls you into his chest letting his fingers run down your back and undoing the buttons of your dress as he goes.
You follow him willingly up a set of stairs, holding your dress to your chest as you look around and take in the grandeur of his home. You can’t help but feel out of place in this home.
“Come with me, Miss Gold”
You take his extended hand and gasp as he pulls you into his chest, his free hand slips under your dress and you force yourself not to cry at the predicament you’re in. The thoughts swimming through your brain make you want to throw up: You hope he’ll be gentle, while you’re not a virgin you’re still inexperienced and you know that Tommy is most likely a man with plenty experience under his belt. You hope he’ll at least treat you well and give you kisses.
Your stomach churns. The feeling is unpleasant as your nose is filled with the scent of sandalwood and musk, Tommy’s cologne.
A moan leaves your lips as he brushes kisses down your neck and your mind briefly flashes to the deal Tommy made with your father. You want to stop this so desperately, your brain and your body fighting for dominance and control as he steers you into his bedroom.
“You have no idea what your father’s done, do you?”
The dress that covers your frame slips to the floor and you stifle a gasp as you’re pushed back into the wall. Tommy’s hand once again slips between your legs and you groan as his fingers find your clit, brushing against the bundle of nerves gently “So responsive.. It makes things a lot easier”
You go to argue but you’re cut off with a swift kiss and Tommy’s tongue caressing your own as his hand grips your thigh while pulling your leg around his hip. You don’t like the way your body is giving in to his advances but you also don't question it as he lifts you up and carries you to the bed, depositing you on the soft sheets. You watch with some level of interest as Tommy removes his waistcoat and shirt, your eyes dipping low on his chest before he leans his body over yours.
“Lets see what kind of pretty noises my little whore can make, hm?”
A soft sigh leaves your lips as Tommy’s lips descend down your body and you stare at the ceiling as he slowly pulls your underwear down and groans. His lips attach to your clit and you squeak, moaning as you arch off the bed. Silent tears stream down your face despite your body’s overwhelming response and you clamp your eyes shut. This isn’t how it was meant to be. Your father had spent countless hours drilling the importance of asking before anything ever happened.
You’re almost positive that Bonnie’s never taken a woman the way Tommy’s taking you now. Your heart sinks into the depths of your stomach as you feel a pressure you’ve never felt before building in your abdomen and you moan, despite your brain begging you not to
It takes everything in you not to lean over the side of the bed and empty the contents of your stomach as the pressure snaps and a relief washes over you. Tommy pulls away, satisfied and kisses back up to your stomach to your face where he smirks and wipes a lone tear from your cheek before resting his forehead on yours “My little whore crying.. Maybe I can put a pretty smile on your face, ‘eh?”
“No.. No please don’t”
You’re not that experienced but you know what Tommy’s doing isn’t how you have sex.
You fight against his hands spreading your legs and you stifle a cry as he pushes into you hard, his groan filling the room and your ears like the deadliest of melodies.
Your eyes flutter as your head falls back into the pillow and the moan that you successfully held back tumbles from your lips as Tommy’s hips increase their speed. It’s like a switch has flipped and you’re enjoying this man, this powerful and dangerous man touching you in ways that should have been for the man who married you.
You shudder as his lips come in contact with your neck and a whine leaves your lips as he pulls your legs around his waist. It’s like he’s concerned more with your closeness than your pleasure
Like you were a trophy to show off but never leave his side.
“You’re tight..” His words vibrate in your head and make you moan. You’ve almost forgotten the fight you put up as you sink into the mattress, letting him fill you up and take from you. The familiar pressure in your stomach builds up once again and your eyes roll back as a moan leaves your lips.
“Cum for me, little whore”
His words trigger something in you that sends you over the edge and you cry out as your orgasm washes over you. Tommy’s hips don’t stop their relentless movements and you groan as a shudder passes down your spine “I’m going to fill you up so you can have a tiny Shelby of your own, how’s that sound my little whore?”
His words spark something in your brain and you whine, trying to push your legs together as he chases his orgasm and comes inside you. As your legs drop from his waist to the bed Tommy pulls out only to push his fingers inside you as you try to move away. His smirk is wicked as he takes in your dishevelled form “Keep it in. I’ll know if any spills out to the sheets”
Your cheeks flame with embarrassment as he falls down to the bed next to you and your eyes shut, fresh tears spilling out of them as you pray nothing is growing in your womb.
Summary: "She’s pregnant. She’s pregnant because you tossed that fucking coin and made her part of the bet with Thomas fucking Shelby"
Warnings: AFAB (assigned female at birth) Reader, Dub-Con, Sexual Coercion, Coercion,, Sexual Manipulation, Oral Sex (F receiving) Dirty Talk, Dacryphilia, Church sex, Breeding Kink, Minor Character death, mentions of pregnancy/thoughts of abortion, doctor's visits, gun violence
🚫DNI if you're under twenty one 🚫
Certain people get a pass because I know and trust them
Authors Note: I give no consent to my works being translated or posted to Wattpad or A03. I post everything I write on my own Wattpad and A03
Your life returns to normalcy as you travel with your family, playing Mother to your siblings and assisting your father with business deals but keeping him at arm's length as much as possible.
You still haven’t forgiven him for the deal almost two months ago but you’re learning to live with him again, learning to trust him again. Learning to relove the man who should have protected you but instead sold you out for a measly coin toss.
Bonnie had been your lifeline over the last few weeks, never straying far from your side and making sure your needs were met. You’d moved so many times in the last few weeks, just to be free of memories that plagued you and nightmares that had you screaming and waking the several families you travelled with.
Tonight was like no other night. You tuck your sisters into their beds and chuckle at their complaints before climbing up into your own bed, the caravan you share with your sisters is small and cosy.
Esmeralda and Ursula share a bed while Vanessa gets a bed to herself. Your smile is wide as you listen to your sisters gossiping and giggling and before you know it you’re asleep with the blankets pulled up to your chin.
A few hours pass and a scream wakes you, it’s only when light floods your caravan that you realise it's your screaming. Bonnie’s got you in his arms, it’s a strong hold.
It makes you feel secure and you shake as Bonnie tucks you back into bed before slipping in and gesturing to the other two beds in the tiny space “Esmeralda, close the door. Back to bed now girls”
“I don't want to sleep, Bonnie”
You roll on to your stomach, resting your head on Bonnie’s shoulder as his arms cross against his chest. He’s assured you many times that he wasn’t angry with you and he only wishes he could have done more to save you from the clutches of Tommy when he had the chance
“You need to sleep, bluebell. Close your eyes”
You nod, and drift off as Bonnie lays beside you as your constant protector.
“You need to eat something, please?”
Shaking your head, you push away the bowl Bonnie holds under your nose. The smell of the broth making your stomach swirl and rumble as you curl up in your bed. As you curl up tighter a sweat clings to you and you vaguely hear your brother whisper to Esmeralda about going to find Madam Helena, the camp midwife and Matron.
You know Bonnie is worried, you can feel it in the way he brushes your hair back and kisses your forehead repeatedly. You push Bonnie away, leaning over the bed to grab the pot that sits just by your bed and you empty your stomach as violent sobs leave your lips.
Light fills the small space and you whine, lifting your arms to shield your eyes from the harsh morning light outside.
“We need to take her to hospital. Something isn’t right”
Madam Helena’s smile is amused as she sits on the bed, running a gentle hand over your hair before placing her palm on your clammy forehead. She seems to look at you for a lifetime before she smiles, resting her free hand on your stomach “She doesn’t need to go to hospital, she’s with child”
The scream that leaves your lips is heartbreaking, you roll on to your side, facing away from the small audience you’ve amassed and you cry helplessly into the soft pillows on your bed.
You’re tied to him now, something in you told you that Tommy won’t rest until you’re in his bed, your belly swollen with life and a pretty ring sitting on your finger.
The perfect trophy wife to show off.
Bonnie's hands shake as he watches you and you only sob louder as you hear his footsteps, loud as thunder as he leaves your caravan in search of your father.
In your upset state, you flee the safety of your caravan after him. Your bare feet hit the ground as you run through the camp, clad only in a thin chemise. You latch onto Bonnie’s body as he aims his gun at your father’s head and you can feel the anger radiating off his body.
“She’s pregnant. She’s pregnant because you tossed that fucking coin and made her part of the bet with Thomas fucking Shelby”
People are watching now, families of all ages taking in the scene as you cling to your brother while his rifle is still aimed at Aberama’s head. Your eyes close and you press closer to your brother’s body as you sniffle quietly, one hand going to your stomach as the other grips his arm.
“She chose to go, she could have said no”
Your father’s words had some truth to them, you went with Tommy to Arrow house but you were anything but willing when he took you to bed and used your body for his own pleasures. Another bout of sickness fills your body and you stumble to a nearby flower bush to once again empty your stomach.
The loud shot that fills your ears makes your body convulse and once again you vomit into the flower bush before your knees give out and you’re laying on a heap in the dirt and ground below you.
“Throw his body in a ditch”
It’s the only order Bonnie gives before he lifts your tired body into his arms and carries you back through the camp. His lips press to your forehead as you cry and he mumbles against your clammy skin, trying to soothe the worry flowing through your body
“We’ll find a doctor to take care of this. I promise”
“What do you mean you can’t help?”
Doctor William Ballard was nice enough, a quiet man who had listened to your brother's worries without judgement. When his eyes turn to you, you give a smile before looking down at your feet. Bonnie’s hand wraps around yours, giving a gentle squeeze and you find the courage to speak up to the man behind his desk
“Doctor Ballard, I’m an unwed woman with a pregnancy I don't want. You’ve heard the phrase I assume: ‘Mother’s a whore, baby’s a bastard’ I’m already labelled a whore by women in our camp”
“I understand your predicament, Miss. Gold but I simply cannot allow a termination of pregnancy. It’s illegal”
As tears stream your face, you stand from your chair and make your way from the room. Your arms fold tightly around your body as you stroll through the hospital and you can hear your brother’s voice behind you.
You jog down the stairs outside the hospital and with quick steps you run back to the canal where the barge boat you’d borrowed was moored to a post.
“Hello my little whore”
You stop as your body tenses, you know that voice. You dream about that voice only to wake up in a hot sweat with an ache between your thighs that you didn't ask for.
You curse the way your body shivers and you step back as he approaches you, keeping your eyes open and looking around for Bonnie
“We need to go now, Helena will have something you can take to terminate the- Oh, Hello Mr Shelby”
You press your back to Bonnie’s chest, smiling as his chin props on your shoulder. You will always be thankful for Bonnie being your brother.
Something in you wants to tell Tommy about the baby but you know once you get back to your camp and hide within the walls of the red tent it’ll all be over.
You gratefully accept Bonnie’s hand and step on to the barge, Tommy’s eyes burn into your back and you gulp as you sit down allowing Bonnie to slip into the seat next to you.
He’s made the connection in his mind, he knows you carry his child and his smirk is present as the barge boat gently slips down the canal.
“He knows” Your eyes fix on Tommy before you tuck your face away in your brother’s shoulder.
Bonnie’s voice is quiet as he steers you both home
“It’ll be over soon”
The Red Tent is sacred to your camp, it’s a place only women can enter. And as you run through the curtained walls you feel safer. The smell of Frankincense, Rosemary and Sage fills the space and you relax as you sit down on some pillows.
For generations, this tent has nurtured women and seen babies being born.
But it has also witnessed horrors that no man will ever know of. You don't have to wait long for someone to find you, Madam Helena enters the sacred space with a basket before sitting at your side.
With loving hands, she sits you up and frames your face with all the tenderness you remember your Mother giving you. She reaches inside the basket, bringing out a small vial and hands it to you
“Licorice and Wormwood. It’ll help”
You look down at the small jar, nodding your head slowly before kissing her cheek.
“Thank you. Truly”
You don't see her face drop to the saddest of expressions as you leave the tent.
Three days have passed.
Three days and you feel no different than you did before. You’ve spoken to a few of the Mothers in the camp, most of whom have had miscarriages or stillbirths.
You've had none of their symptoms
You’ve had no cramps, no blood came from between your legs. No chills or sweats clung to you like the worst of illnesses and your nausea has been considerably worse.
Desperation clawed its way at your body and your brain concocted a plan as you watched Bonnie drinking with several of the younger men.
“What’s wrong?” You smile at Vanessa, knuckles tracing her porcelain cheek before kissing her brow
“Nothing, dear one. I’m just thinking how much I will miss you when you are married”
Your sisters had always been the pride and joy of your life but you couldn’t harm them anymore. Your misfortune would not follow them around like a curse. With a smile, you place another kiss to Vanessa’s brow before standing and wiping your skirts down.
“I’ll be back later, Nessie”
A giggle leaves your lips at Vanessa’s obvious distaste for her nickname and with determined steps you head to the nearby canal, ready to barter a trip to Birmingham.
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.
Editor: @hotline-to-hell
chapter one
Chapter two
Chapter three
Chapter four
Chapter five
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
The door was fixed with great haste. Before you knew it, you were back in the apartment playing housewife again. Coriolanus’s distrust of you grew to a new level. He no longer trusted you to remain home by yourself. Edmund was still not found, and Coriolanus was certain he would reappear and take you away.
You now worked with him, slept with him, and ate every meal with him. The fence line seemed like an impossible goal with him being so suffocating. You were pretty sure the broken chain was not found. He would have said something, would have taunted you with how close your freedom was. It meant you had something up your sleeve against him.
But you had no way of getting to it. You had tried to disappear during his work hours, when he was most distracted, but the only time you seemed to be out of his sight was when you showered. If there had been a window in the bathroom, you were sure that he would have been in there too.
You tried your best to soften him with affection. When you had the chance, you baked him the oatmeal cookies he loves. He ate whole plates in one sitting.
But as his work increased, your work decreased. Long days spent at his office were hard to fill. He sat behind his desk and never seemed to stop working. Sometimes there was mending you could do, or shoes to shine but most of the day you sat on the couch reading what was on hand.
You had taken to organizing the books in alphabetical order, then grouped them according to color. You worked quietly and slowly. Careful not to make any noise to disturb Coriolanus from his work. You had taken them down again just moments ago to reorganize them by subject when Coriolanus' assistant came in carrying a tea tray and a large parcel.
She drops the parcel down on the table in front of you, amongst the books. You look over it to see your name neatly scribbled on the recipient's information.
The receptionist doesn’t look at you as she puts the tea tray in front of Coriolanus.
He thanks her but her response is drowned out to your ears by the opening of the box.
“Is it from Tigris?”
You wait until the receptionist shuts the door behind her to respond.
You confirmed it was, as you pulled a soft silk nightdress from the box. It was light pink which was uncommon for the districts. Dark pink lace trimming boarded along the bottom and top of the dress. You run your finger across it. It was the most expensive material you had ever felt.
Another dress was folded in the box and you take it out.
It was light blue with yellow birds flying across it, made of a soft cotton material that would fall around your ankles.
“You like them?” he asks.
“They are beautiful,” you admit.
You look in the box for more to see a small pouch filled with sweets from the Capitol.
Tigris was too kind. If things had been different, you would have been a good friend to her. But as her cousin's captive, you were now sworn enemies. The box of treats didn’t change that.
You return the items to the box and see parchment paper protecting soft material at the bottom.
“There's a shirt for you.” It was a long white dress shirt with gold stitching running in horizontal lines down it.
He comes from his desk to collect it. Taking it gently from your hands, he brings it up to his nose and inhales the scent.
“You really miss home,” you comment, watching him breathe in the scent the shirt carried.
“I do. More than anything.” He returns to his desk with it still in his hands.
“You’ll be home soon.”
“We’ll be home soon”.
You smile thinly at him. “That’s what I said.”
“You should see the Capitol. Clothing, culture. Actual buildings, not these pieces of tin. You’ll be able to breathe much better in the Capitol.”
The scratching of his pen picked up where his sentence had been incomplete as he began his work again. The shirt lay across his lap.
“I have the day off tomorrow,” he said without stopping his work, “I was thinking we could visit the waterfall again. It will probably be the last time before Ravinstill dies.”
The thought made your stomach drop. If you don’t make it beyond the fence, it would in fact be the last time you ever saw your favorite place. The time was better spent within the compound waiting for an opportunity. He would never let you get too far in the district.
“I’d prefer not to.”
“Why?” he questions with a hard tone. He continued to write but the pen pressed firmly into the paper.
“I am behind on my chores, and I haven’t made anything in a while. The food in the fridge will go bad if I don’t get to it soon.”
“Let it. The Capitol is full of food.”
You realize now that Coriolanus had already made up his mind to do the activity. You wondered why he chose it. He hated the heat and the bugs.
You walk over to the tray of hot tea and pour out a cup, making it to his liking and placing it down in front of him.
“We’ll go if you want to.”
“Why don’t you want to go?”
“Why do you want to? The walk up there will take us nearly the whole morning in the hot sun.”
“I thought it might make you happy.”
He was trying to win your approval before he ripped everything you had ever known from your finger tips. It was something to use against him. Coriolanus responded best when he was in a position to be a hero. He would do anything so long as he felt he was the only one who could do it for you.
You lean down and wrap your arms around his shoulders, resting your face against his neck.
“You know what would make me happy? Some vanilla extract so I can send Tigris some shortbread cookies back”.
He responds positively by wrapping his hands around your forearms. He liked you looking out for Tigris.
“She’s been asking to meet you.” He says, his hand gently wrapping your arm around his shoulders. “I have a call with them next Friday afternoon. Maybe you’d like to come with.”
You retract your hold now that he was in a better mood.
There was only one answer you could give him when it came to his family.
“I’d love to”.
You had a deep hate for Capitol people but Tigris seems different. In any case, you were sure you could remain civil for an hour-long phone call.
Pouring yourself a cup of tea, you return to your spot with it and Coriolanus returns to his work.
———-
You stood out in the sun with Coriolanus as he discussed the new recruits' performance with another high-ranking officer. They were splitting them up into areas of work. The strong and fast became foot soldiers, the slow were put on kitchen duty, and the ones who showed a inclination to aggression were watchmen. He spared a couple to the infantry to learn basic medic care and help around the hospital. You couldn't work out what sent those recruits apart. It seemed random but you knew nothing Coriolanus did was without great care and strategy.
All the men seemed equally angry and you wondered if Coriolanus was the same when he was a Peacekeeper.
The sun felt nice upon your skin after so long. It was late afternoon and it had just begun to set, leaving behind a nice cool breeze.
You thought about your mother and Edmund. Were they enjoying the sun too?
The sound of a vehicle approaching ruined the moment of reflection. Coriolanus took your hand in his as soon as the tires upon the gravel could be heard as if you were to be run over if he didn’t.
It surprisingly stopped in front of where you stood. A transport car with no doors and a large trunk carried two men. A younger man wearing a District 12 peacekeeper uniform and an older man who wore a Commander uniform set apart by its light purplish color.
“Commander.” The older man greets as he swings out of the car.
“Vongurt.” Coriolanus uses his spare hand to offer a handshake which is strongly and fervently taken.
Another Commander had come to see Coriolanus. You doubted he was any better than the last.
“This is my wife, Y/N.” With his hand, he leads you in front of him to show you off to the Commander.
You were stiff with shock as the man's disapprovingly raked his eyes over you. He too felt jarred at the label of wife. District women weren’t wives. They were barely considered human.
But he smiles nonetheless, something you couldn’t return.
“Pleasure.” With a kiss placed upon your hand, the Commander's attention was turned back to Coriolanus.
“Your compound is impressive, Commander Snow. It has to be the largest I’ve seen.”
Coriolanus seemed unimpressed by the comment. He turns back to the Peacekeepers watching them as they leap, and fight.
“A palace of scrap metal.”
He waves over a tall man in a high-ranking uniform, who quickly makes his way over from across the field.
“Your apartment is only slightly better. Sergeant AJ will take you there.”
“I was hoping that we could talk. I’ve come all this way from District 2.”
“Later, Commander. The conference room at 7. You’ll have my undivided attention there.”
The man nods back and follows his guide back into the car.
Coriolanus makes a comment to his officer about a recruit and the man jotted down all of his thoughts.
You wanted to get away. Break free from his hold and bolt to the fence line. His delusions had reached a new height, with him now openly telling lies to men with power.
Your body moves to your thoughts. You hadn’t even realized you were twisting your hand away from him until he tightened his hold.
He turns to you, asking if you are ok.
“I need to go home” you respond. Home to my mother. Back home to normalcy.
“Take whoever we missed today and regroup them tomorrow morning” he directs the man next to him. A whistle is blown and the recruits stop their training, instead they congregate in front of you.
Coriolanus turns as his officer begins to dish out instructions, taking you back to the apartment.
“The heat can get to you,” he says.
You had lived in District 12 all your life if anyone was to know about the heat it was you. But you verbally agree and apologize for taking him away from his work.
He hushes you and it ends the conversation for the walk home.
He lets you go as you enter your prison, and you take off without him to the bedroom.
You hear his voice wafting down the hallway telling you to lie down. You shove your boots off and get into bed. Every day your window closes. It won’t be long before either the broken fence is found or you are carted off on the train.
But he had called you his wife. Not just to anyone but a Capitol Commander. Even if you got away, the idea that he would leave you here for the presidency is just a fantasy.
How long would you need to live in hiding before he forgot you? Could you bear the costs of it for as long as needed? What work could you do in the mountains to support yourself and your mother?
Wife. Why did he have to say wife? You weren’t that. You were his captive, a victim of his need to be cared for.
Coriolanus enters the room with a wet, cold rag and runs it over your forehead. A victim of his need to pretend he was capable of caring for something.
He sits on the bed beside you running the cloth over your forehead and into your hair.
“Do you feel alright?” he asks as you take the cloth off him.
“I am fine. Just a little lightheaded.” You throw the cloth on the bed stand and he takes it as a signal to get up.
“I’ll get you some water.”
He disappears and you're thankful for the space to think. Could you tell him you just need a walk around the compound by yourself to think? No, he would take it as an insult.
You had to get out. The fence was so close.
You don’t notice him as he sits back down beside you. Only the glass to your lips made you see him.
“I won’t go to the meeting with Vongurt if you are unwell.”
You sit up straighter at his words, pushing the glass away from you.
“No!” you say harshly, “No, you should go. I am fine.”
“You don’t look well.” You were sure you looked terrible after you had the shock of your life.
“But I feel fine. Just too much sun.”
He looked annoyed that you were arguing with him so you switched tactics.
“We need his support to get back to the Capitol. Maybe you could just leave the door open for some fresh air?”
You had pushed too hard, and he got up
“If I am not here, the door is shut.”
“Of course,” you breathe with a soft smile at him, “I’ll be fine by the time you have to leave.”
Coriolanus hovered around you for the next hour and a half before he had to start getting ready for his meeting. He took a shower to wash the sweat off him from the day and changed into his official outfit. It fit snugly, his broad shoulders carried the uniform well.
He attached the dressings of his uniform as you watched him from the bed.
“Maybe I shouldn’t go tonight. What if you feel unwell while I am away?” His fingers were still on the badge he was trying to put on.
“I am fine,” you assure him, “I feel fine.”
“We should invite him here. That way if you need me, I am here.”
You cringed at the thought of serving Commander Vongurt.
“I won’t need you. Besides the conference room is much nicer.” You get up to help him put on his badge and send him on his way.
“I haven’t felt unwell since dinner.” Coriolanus stood over you as you cooked, convinced that the heat in the kitchen would make you unwell again. With a knife in your hand, it was a dangerous time for Coriolanus to tell you what to do.
“You’re sure?” he pokes.
You were tired of saying it so you just nodded your head.
“Go to the bathroom then.”
It was an odd request.
“What?” you question.
“Go to the bathroom and take a shower. Get changed into your night dress.”
He checks his watch once before motioning you forward.
There was no other option for you then to follow his request. You thought maybe he just wanted to complete the bed time routine. He wanted to know you were washed and dressed for bed for his own comfort. You never knew what made him tick.
You complete the tasks quickly and return to find he had placed a glass of water and a packet of dried mixed fruit.
You quiz him on it but he doesn’t answer. He takes your wrist in his hand and tugs you to the bed.
Taking out his handcuffs, he clips your wrist into the cuff, pulling it up to the headboard where he attached the other cuff.
You tug against it in protest. “What are you doing?”
“Just in case, Edmund comes back.”
“He won’t! Please unlock me.” you beg.
“I left your book there if you are not ready to sleep yet.” He stands tall and readjusts his uniform.
“Coriolanus!” You say in a serious tone, “Get this off of me.”
You pull against it brutally and he captures your hand against the headboard.
“I left you one hand so you can read. I don’t have to.”
“Please, don’t leave me here like this!” He ignores you, bending down once more to flick on the lamp.
“You’ve had a big day. Try and rest. I’ll be home soon.”
“Coriolanus!” you call out watching him leave. He flicks off the main light as he goes.
“Coriolanus!” you yell.
You had never felt anger as you lay trapped in bed. He dictated when you worked, when you rested, when you ate. Nothing was yours anymore. Every breath you took was only because he allowed you to take it.
There was nothing to tell the time on. It felt like years waiting for him to come back and release you. You didn’t read, only plotted.
Could you feed him something to make him sick? Surely he would request you to come see him in the infirmary. You could break away when returning from your visit. What if he caught you trying to poison him though?
Friday provided the perfect opportunity. While he was distracted with his family you could sneak away. The communication building was on the other side of the compound but at least you would be outside of the apartment.
But how would you get away far enough to make a break for it? You thought about what was in the surrounding area of the communications building. Nothing would be a reasonable excuse to pardon yourself.
Could you excuse yourself to the bathroom? Surely one of the surrounding offices would have one. Would he let you go alone? Sacrifice time with his family to take you. Would he even let you go or just expect you to make do until the phone call was over?
You came up with twenty different scenarios of escape routes, each one ended with Coriolanus catching you.
You wished you didn’t shoo Edmund away now. He could have got the door opened in time. It was only your fearfulness that stood in the way of your escape. You could be with him now, with your mother. Up in the mountains, safe and sound.
God, you hoped they were safe and well-fed.
You wished for nothing more than to tend to your mother, to ensure that she was alright.
The care that was supposed to go to her was now unjustly turned towards Coriolanus, who was adamant to wring it from your hands.
Edmund had always taken whatever care you gave him with great appreciation.
Never demanded more, and then took it with force.
He was kind and patient. Two things Coriolanus is not.
And now you have dragged him into this mess where his life is at great risk. Still, he had never demanded any more from you.
When his lips first met yours, they were placed almost in questioning. It was up to you to accept and beg for more.
You wished you had seen his affection for you sooner. But he was your brother's best friend, and the main protector of you and your mother. If Coriolanus never entered the picture you doubt he ever would have acted on it.
But he had, and you had returned the affection. It was the start of something new and beautiful or the end of years of friendship and familiarity.
Once Coriolanus went back to the Capitol, your new life would begin.
You hoped it would be alongside Edmund. You would pay him back for his bravery.
You would be a good girlfriend to him, then wife, and then mother of his children. You would never ask him for anything, and take great care of his family life. You would ensure his happiness, as he ensures your life now.
You almost forget you were chained to the bed of the Commander as you daydream of brown-haired babies. But the sound of Coriolanus arriving home was a solemn reminder. His boots against the hardwood floor soften as they reach the bedroom door.
You still had a great challenge before you got to nurse Edmund’s children.
You had to get away from Coriolanus, and the only way you could do that is if he had no idea that you planned to.
The door creaks open and you sit up straight to watch him enter.
“I am sorry. Did I wake you?” He places his coat on the foot of the bed and crawls over to where you lay.
“No. I was waiting for you.”
He smiles down at you as he unlocks the cuff from your wrist with the keys in his pocket.
“You seem happy,” you comment. You could smell the whiskey on his clothes as he leaned over you.
“I am. I have you. I have Commander Vongurt’s support behind me, and Ravinstill is not expected to last the winter. We’ll be home before you know it.”
Throwing the keys on his bedside table, he leans down to kiss you before resting his head on your collarbone.
“That’s not long,” you comment.
“Three months at the most.”
You drowned in your anxiety quietly as he rested.
Three months and your life was over.
He takes your silence as a quiet contemplation.
“Are you thinking of your mother?” he runs a curled finger along your nose.
“Yeah. I’ll miss her”. You hope to never have to know the pain of missing her again. These past few weeks have been unbearable.
“You’ll write. I’ll organize a time she can come to the compound for video calls.”
You were sure he was going to let you write and call. For how long was another thing. You could see it already, your calls being cut short, your letters ‘lost’ in the mail.
“Yeah,” you respond again.
Your mind races with ideas of escape. You could fake a sickness and be sent to the medical camp. No, he wouldn’t send you there. He panicked today over a supposed case of heatstroke.
He lowers his head down closer to you where you can smell the evening on him.
“You want to know what I was thinking?” he asks playfully.
You could start a fire during dinner time. He was sure to open the door to let you out before dealing with the flames.
“Yeah?” you entertain. Fire could go wrong for a number of reasons. Besides you would have to fight your way to the oven. Especially now that Commander Vongurt was here. Coriolanus would be too busy to wait for you to cook something.
“I was thinking I hope we have a boy first. Then two girls, then another boy.”
Your eyes shoot open as his hand reaches out across your stomach. His hand finds its way under your shirt and he lays a warm palm over your belly.
Then again, a big enough fire might kill him. Was it worth a shot?
“You called me your wife today. That’s not true.”
“What else should I have called you? We sleep together, eat together, wake together. We look after each other. The only thing missing is an official title but as soon as we get back to the Capitol, we’ll fix that.”
You turn away from him to your side. Now that the talk of the Capitol was becoming a more serious threat, you felt sick.
“Did I scare you with talk of babies? It wouldn’t be for a few more years yet.”
His rants did scare you. That would be your life if you didn’t figure out a way to the fence. Nursing Commander Snow’s babies in the Capitol. Away from your mother. Away from Edmund.
Still, you had to perform. You couldn’t let any more distrust between him and you grow.
“You didn’t scare me. I am just tired. I’ve waited up all night for you.”
You feel a soft kiss press against your ear before the weight of the bed was shifted as he moved.
“Go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He leans over you once more to flick off the light. You hear him walk out to the bathroom to take a shower.
Could you force him to give you the keys? The chain was still dangling from the headboard. If you could somehow get his wrist caught, you could threaten him with a kitchen knife. You shake the thought from your head. You couldn’t hurt him with a knife. You were sure even one-handedly, he could take it off you if you tried.
You just needed a distraction, just two seconds when his attention wasn’t on you to escape.
Wet, salty tears rolled down your cheeks as you lay in the dark, but you made no sound.
You were still awake when he returned from his shower, dressed in his pajamas. Thinking you are asleep he is slow and quiet as he rejoins you in bed.
He curls up against your back and rests his hand on your stomach as if there is something already inside. He wasn’t going to wait a few more years. He said it purely for your comfort.
He dreamt of being a young President with a baby on the way. And another one close after that, and another, and another. He would undo history. He would have as many baby Coriolanus’s and Tigris’ as it took to heal the past.
Watching you nurture, feed, and play with his children would overtake his memories of fighting for his life when he should have been nursed by his mother.
He felt as if he was in the area but soon to be crowned Victor. President Ravinstill just had to die before he could have it all.
His destiny that had been interrupted when his father died but was now back on track. From birth, Coriolanus Snow was supposed to be the man who had it all. Not some impoverished boy, hanging on to his father’s legacy.
When he died, he would be remembered as his own man. Not as the shadow of his father.
Coriolanus Snow; Beloved President of Panem, star pupil of the Academy, Plinth Prize winner, devoted husband and father, and Victor of the games. Coriolanus would be remembered as the man who had it all.
You lay awake under him. The smell of alcohol mixed with the scent of his soap. It burnt your nose as you inhaled.
President Ravinstill could die tonight. There was no guarantee that he would even make it to winter. You had to get out. If you made it to the Capitol, you would never get back home.
While he was intoxicated was your best chance. He seemed so still now, you could take the keys off the nightstand and go through everyone. You were sure he wouldn’t wake, not until it was too late. You remember when your father drank on special occasions, he would sleep for 14 hours at a time. Coriolanus was sure to sleep for at least half that.
You wait until you can’t feel him twitch before you rise from bed. Very slowly, very carefully, you peel yourself from him, shoving a pillow in your place. He doesn’t move from your actions so you continue over to his nightstand where his key ring is laid.
Rows and rows of keys looped together. They jingle as you pick them up. Panic runs like ice up your spin as you turn back to see Coriolanus; unmoved and unknowing.
You wrap your hand around as many keys as you can to stop further noise and make your way to the door. Checking every few steps to ensure he wouldn’t turn up behind you.
The floor creeks as you pass the hallways to the living room but no other sound follows as you cross the kitchen to the door.
You start at the very first key. It slots in but refuses to turn. Moving on to the next, and the next in methodological order, bypassing the ones that were too big or small to be entertained.
You try numerous times but the right key is buried among the many.
Feeling as if it had been hours since the first key, you felt confident that it was coming up.
You stuck a key in with no resistance. The hope that died in you reappeared as the lock turned with the key.
But all too soon it died again, as you felt a hand snake into your hair. It yanks your head harshly back and you find yourself pressed against Coriolanus.
“That key will get stuck in the door, and it’d be a great pain to get it out again.”
His hand in your hair pulls you back.
“I was just going to the kitchen to get some ingredients for a hangover cure. I was coming back.” His hand twists unforgivably in your hair as you make your plea.
“Don’t lie to me,” he seethes.
“I am not!” You protest, trying to break free from his grasp.
“You think I am some type of fool?”
Reaching over you, he takes the keys out of the door and leads you back to the bedroom.
“Coriolanus. Please just listen to me.”
“If I had listened to you, I would have left the door opened. You spoiled, deceiving, little bitch.”
He was still drunk. You could smell it from his breath.
You thought it would make him complacent but it instead made him more violent.
“I was getting you my father's hangover cure.”
You stumble as he pushes you over the doorway.
“You need to trust me, Coriolanus.”
He shoves you until you are back to your side of the bed.
“I don’t.”
He throws the keys hard across the room to free his hands.
“I trust you.” You don’t fight him as he recuffs your chain, instead you willingly go along with it.
For good measure, you place a kiss on his cheek which throws him off guard.
“I don’t trust you.” he reiterated softly.
“That’s ok,” you state, “One day you will. We’ll have a happy life together. You, me, and our children.”
He looks perplexed at your words but makes no further comment as he lays down by your side, resting his head on you.
“I’ve tried my best to take care of you. To make you happy.”
“You have.” you console. You were no longer worried about President Ravinstill lasting the night, but rather yourself.
“Then why-”
“I wasn’t running. I was trying to take care of you.”
His face turns into your skin. You bring your free hand up to his head and press it down.
“Everything is ok. Just go to sleep. You’re drunk. You don’t mean it.”
You run your fingertips up and down starting from behind his ear, down to the bottom of his neck, and up again. You do it until you feel his shallow breaths upon your skin, only then do you release the tears from your eyes.
When you wake the next morning, your wrist is free and Coriolanus is not in bed.
You rise to find him in the kitchen, frying bacon. Maybe he was too intoxicated last night to remember his anger towards you.
“Good morning,” you offer. He doesn’t return the greeting. Maybe he did remember last night, and you were in a lot of trouble.
“How are you feeling?” you try again.
“What’s your father's hangover cure?”
“Two eggs, hot sauce, milk, salt, pepper, and honey”. Your father did not have a hangover cure and it did not include hot sauce or honey, both of which were considered luxury items in the District.
He looks for the ingredients, slamming the cupboards he turns towards you. “All here.”
“Oh,” you comment, “That’s good. Did you want me to make you one?”
The bacon pops in the pan and you rush over to distract yourself with it.
“Sit down. I’ll take over cooking”. The bacon was overcooked to the point where it would be barely edible.
“So what did you need for the compound kitchen last night?”
“I didn’t know we had the items. It's been that long since I cooked, I just assumed we were out.”
“You assumed you wouldn’t get caught.”
You sigh. Coriolanus in a bad mood would only mean bad things for you.
“I wasn’t running. I was trying to help. Are you always going to doubt me?”
“Yes.” he answers, pulling the pan back off you.
He dumps the bacon onto a plate and takes it to the kitchen table. You begin to clean up after him as he sits and eats.
The plate is still full by the time he is telling you to go get ready for the day.
You put on the blue sun dress he likes which acts as a two-second buffer for his anger when he sees you.
He had paused in the middle of throwing his bacon into the trash. Such a waste of food. You thought.
But he was determined to stay in his mood. He slides the empty plate across the counter.
“I am late for work,” he says.
It was unusual for him not to hold your hand as you walked to his office. You would have to work hard today to please him.
His tea was already sat upon his desk when you arrived and you rushed to pour him one.
He doesn’t drink it. It goes cold as he does his work.
You try extra hard to be quiet. There was sewing left from yesterday which you begin to complete.
“We still haven’t found your mother,” he says out of the blue after a morning of not speaking or looking at you.
His words filled you with confidence. If you could get to the mountains, at least you knew you were safe.
He doesn’t look up as he speaks.
“Edmund hasn’t returned to his house but there was a rumor that he was swapping meat for medical supplies just yesterday.”
What would he need medical supplies for? You wondered. Was your mother okay? Was he okay?
You needed to see them to make sure.
“He’s probably hiding with your mother in what’s left of the forest. Don’t worry. We’ll find him and bring your mother home.”
It was a disguised threat. He was trying to get a rise out of you.
“Good,” you comment. Keep searching the forest while they remain safe in the mountains.
“Good.” he repeats back.
A comfortable silence returns as you both go back to work, but it’s interrupted by his secretary bursting through the doors.
“Sir! Sir!” she gasps. Coriolanus shot up from his chair.
“Commander Vongurt is angry!”
You follow him without a word out of the office.
“The courtyard!” the secretary directs.
You fall behind his fast pace and reach for him blindly to keep from falling too far behind.
A crowd had formed by the time you reached the courtyard. You could hear the familiar sound of flogging and painful cries.
The crowd parts as Coriolanus approaches. In the middle of the bystanders was Commander Vongurt and a young boy curled on the dirt floor.
Coriolanus looks upon the same boy who failed to hit the target on the hot day.
Grabbing the baton from the Commander, he throws it to the ground.
“What are you doing?”
“Commander Snow,” Vongurt was out of breath from exerting himself in his beating, “This boy is a disgrace to your legacy. I caught him passing scraps to the prisoners through the bars.”
With the protection of Coriolanus, you felt safe enough to speak out, “He’s just a boy.”
“Take him to the jail. He can sleep there for a week if he likes their company so much.”
“Coriolanus!” you take his arm and tug it. He gives you a harsh look and you know you won’t be able to persuade him.
The boy cries out and begins to beg as he is carted away by two others.
“Coriolanus, please!” You tug his arm once more and he hits you harshly across the cheek.
You stumble upon the impact. The men shuffle away from you as you try and regain your footing.
Coriolanus takes your arm in a harsh grip, pulling you back in the right direction but he is turned to speak to Vonngurt.
“District 12 is my district. Next time you feel like taking discipline into your own hands, don’t.”
The older Commander nods his head, but you can see he is displeased to have been spoken to in such a manner.
“Let’s go.” He was now talking to you and shoving you forcefully in front of himself back to the office.
You tear yourself free as the door shuts behind you.
“You don’t dictate my decisions.”
Your nose is clogged from your tears. You couldn’t tell if you were crying out of pain or anger. Your brain was still trying to catch up.
“Calling my name,” he says astonished, “It doesn’t matter if you disagree with my decision. Your job is to support me.”
He catches you as you try to make your way from him and he tosses you to the couch, where he stands over you.
“You embarrassed me. Vongurt already thinks I can’t control my Peacekeepers, now he thinks I can’t control my women as well.”
You cup your bruised cheek. This wasn’t about Vongurt. He was still hurting about your attempt last night. All day he was looking for a reason to lash out, Vongurt only provided the opportunity.
You were put back on defense. With only at most a month before you were carted off to the Capitol, mistakes couldn’t be afforded.
“I am sorry.” you choke out.
He squinted his eyes, bringing his hand up to his head before throwing it back again, “What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t!” you spit. There is no sincerity in your voice.
“Look at me when I am talking to you.” He takes your chin into his hand and pulls it up to his eye level. “Ravinstill is expected to die shortly. This behavior of yours cannot be brought back to the Capitol.”
“It won’t be. I am sorry.” Your fists clench by your side.
He turns your chin to expect your cheek.
“I did it too. That’s the only reason I spoke out. I would have been thrown in jail too.” you contend.
He lets go of your chin and stands up to full height, “You think a Peacekeeper would get the same punishment as a District? No. You would have been hanged. Yet another reason to be loyal to me. I’ve saved you.”
“I am loyal to you. Grateful for you.” You get up and follow him as he makes his way to his desk.
“Coriolanus, please don’t be mad at me. I was only ever trying to help.”
You sob ugly causing him to spin around. Your cheek hurt, and you felt the weight of the world on your shoulders trying to get away within such a short time frame. You were overwhelmed with the whole scenario and the thought of dealing with Coriolanus as he looked for opportunities to lash out was too much to bear.
He softens upon your unraveled composure, taking you into his arms.
“Stop crying. It’s okay”. You feel him rest his head on top of yours. “I am just a little wound up trying to get everything in order. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I am sorry.”
You smile slightly, he is back on defense.
—------
Friday came quickly. The call wasn’t until the afternoon so you spent the whole day as a ball of anxiety.
But at least you had a plan. On evening walks you took more notice of the building surrounding the communications tent, and saw a nurse carrying a load of blankets into a building of washing machines.
There were few things Coriolanus let you do alone, washing was one of them.
The washing machine in the apartment would need to be dealt with. But the long hours spent in his office meant that the dirty clothes were piling up. He would demand a fresh uniform for work. If you left it close to his phone call with his family, he was sure to let you go.
You push it out for as long as you can. He had wanted to leave ten minutes ago but you kept pressing him for one more minute.
You had taken small rocks from the ground during your afternoon walk, telling Coriolanus you would like to take a part of home back to the Capitol with you. He had allowed you to collect a small jar, you picked the biggest rocks you could find.
Big enough to jam the pipes of the washing machine.
“Darling, please. We have to leave.” He bangs on the door of the washing room.
You finish shoving the rocks as far as they would go down the pipe. It made an awful sound as the washing machine ate them up causing the water to rise.
“Coriolanus,” you call. As soon as you open the door, he grabs your arm, ready to yank you out.
“Coriolanus. The machine is broken. Look.”
He barely glaces at it, “ I’ll send someone to fix it. Let’s go.”
“I need to do the washing,” you pick up the basket as he pulls you from the room, “Can I use the compound washing machines?”
“That’s fine. Just move, we are late.”
You struggle to keep up with him as he rushes along the compound. He hated it if his phone call was cut short by even a second. Now he was two minutes late and he was almost running to make up time for it.
You reach the building in record time. He lets go of you to pick up speed, leaving you by the door as he hurries.
He rushes to the small screen, not bothering to sit down on the wooden chair as he twisted the knobs.
“Tigris, Tigris? Can you hear me?”
He must have heard a voice on the other side as he broke out into a smile. It was a pretty, genuine smile that you had not seen before.
“Hey,’’ he laughs. You watch from where you stand by the door. He seemed almost unrecognizable. A young boy sent away to a summer camp instead of a ruthless and ambitious Commander. “I am sorry. The washing machine broke. How are you?”
His tone is light and happy as he talks to Tigris. You wonder if he had forgotten he even brought you. He didn’t glance at you as he spoke, giving her his full attention.
You wonder if it is best to make your exit now but his words stop you.
“She’s here.” he waves you over. You drop the basket in coming to him. You wondered what Tigris would look like. What she would sound like.
Coriolanus holds out the receiver for you. You peer at the screen to see a blonde girl in colorful clothing before you put the receiver to your ear.
“Hello,” you greet.
“Oh!” Tigris croons. She pulls the receiver away from her mouth to lessen her shout, “Grandma’am come see!”
She smiles as she turns her attention back to you, “Oh, Coryo has talked so much about you.”
“What is she saying?” Coriolanus places his hands on your hip and pulls down so you are sitting on his knee.
“She’s said you’ve talked about me,” you answer.
He smiles gently at you, turning the receiver in your hand out between you.
An older woman comes too close into the frame and Tigris pulls her back.
“Is that her?” the old woman asks Tigris who nods.
“Girl-Girl.” she talks into the speaker.
“Yes, Ma’am?”
“You must be grateful he is sending you back to the Capitol. Don’t ruin it like the last one.”
Coriolanus snatches the receiver away from your ear to soften her words but you heard them any way.
“Grandma’am is unwell,” he tells you, “Pay her no mind.”
Tigris takes back the receiver and positions it in a similar fashion to Coriolanus.
“Did you get the dresses I sent?”
“I did. Thank you. I was hoping to send you back some shortbread but Coriolanus has been busy with work.”
“He was saying you cook. Grandma’am and I are so excited to meet you!”
“Me too,” you lie. “I hear the Capitol is wonderful. I look forward to exploring it with you.”
Tigris laughs. She was beautiful, you thought. Perhaps too popular to be showing you the capital. You felt foolish for even lying about it.
“We’ll have a ball. I’ll show you all around.”
“In time,” Coriolanus interjects. The chains around you would not loosen just because you were in the Capitol. “The Capitol is big. There’ll be time to see it all.”
You let Coriolanus take over the talking. Only offering agreements or soft smiles as the Snow women talk.
The family soon falls into a comfortable way of talking. You had said next to nothing for the last 10 minutes, and it had gone unnoticed. It was time to make your way.
You slowly rise from Coriolanus who latches out on your arm.
“I’ll just put the washing on. That way it will be done by the time we finish.”
He tugs you back down causing you to fall into him. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Tigris almost cringe.
“We’ll do it later,” he demands.
“We’ll be washing well into the night if we leave it any longer. I’ll just pop it on. I’ll be five minutes.”
His face twisted with his words but you kissed him to stop them from leaving his mouth. It was the first time you had ever kissed him on the lips. You could tell by the way his mouth stilled that he was surprised.
“Five minutes.” You kiss his bottom lip to quell any fight he has in him. Grabbing the phone in the meantime.
“Tigris. Grandma. I’ll just be 5 Minutes to put the washing on”.
Tigris smiles at you, letting you know that it is fine. You could just barely hear Grandma’am make a comment about how the people in the Capitol don't do their own washing but it is cut off by you shoving the phone back in Coriolanus's hand.
He cups your face to bring you down for another kiss.
“Five minutes,” he repeats.
You smile at him as you pull away. It was too easy, You had won.
It felt like victory as you picked up the basket and placed it on your hip. You turn back halfway out the door to see he has gone back to talking to his family.
You don’t make it to the tent. Five steps away from the door and you had dropped the basket and taken off at a fast pace.
You walk to try not to draw attention to yourself. It worked for the most part. Hardly anyone gave you a glance. You could see the bins coming into sight. Your freedom is just behind them.
“Hey!” you hear someone call out. You ignore them at first, not thinking they could mean you. But a harsh hold on your arm spun you towards a Peacekeeper.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“What? Nothing”. Your freedom lay not ten feet away but was hindered by a zealous guard.
“Where’s Commander Snow?” He held you too tight. It interfered with your clear thinking.
“The communications tent.”
“Is that where you should be?”
“No,” you try and tug your arm away from him but his nails dig in. “Let go of me. Let go!”
“Let’s go ask Commander Snow what you should be doing.” The man starts to drag you along as you dig your feet into the dirt.
“Let go!” you shout. He was sure to notice you gone soon if he hadn’t already. Time was running out.
In frustration, you slap the Peacekeeper across the face.
“How dare you touch me. I’ll tell Commander Snow about this. You’ve hurt me.
You feel his grip loosen on you but he doesn’t let go completely.
“No, I haven’t!” he says somewhat fearfully,
“Commander Snow has asked me to get something for him, and not only have you stopped me from doing that but you hurt me in the process. How do you think he will react to that?”
You manage to tear free from him and give yourself some distance.
“I am going to do as he asked me, and you are going to do your duties like you should be doing. Otherwise, I’ll report you to the Commander."
The Peacekeeper mulls over his course of action before raising his hands.
“I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. Excuse me.”
You turn your back on him and quicken your steps to your destination. Making sure the coast is clear, you crawl behind the large bins. You couldn’t see any broken fence behind it.
Did they find it? Have you just made a fatal mistake?
You continue to crawl, placing your hand on the metal for any movement.
The chain bends showing cut wire as they bend. Relief washing through you.
It digs harshly into you as you pull yourself through.
You could have kissed the dirt on the other side. Freedom. Edmund.
The guard in the tower above you looks out across the field. You keep under his eyesight as you slide across the fence as quietly as you can.
It runs out, leaving ten feet of open field before the safety of the forest. Ten feet and then you were free. There was no cover, meaning that the guard could easily spot you if he was looking.
You say a silent prayer that the guard will keep his focus straight before you take the chance of discovery.
You leap across the field, throwing yourself upon the first tree you touch. The bark smashed your bruised cheek as you waited for the sirens to sound.
He mustn’t have seen you. You had got away.
You take a second to laugh as quietly as you can. Run, a voice in your head told you. You regain your breath and do. You run as fast as you can, taking the backroads back to your home.
Your lungs burn, willing you to stop but you keep going until your house is in view. You only slow down to stop drawing attention to yourself.
People had started to return home from work. You could see them as you walked along the back of their houses. You're careful not to be seen.
The back steps of your place come under your feet, and your caution disappears as you fling yourself into your home.
Edmund was sitting at the kitchen table dressing a rabbit he caught.
He stood up. Turning his knife towards you thinking you were an intruder.
You knew he would never hurt you so you throw your arms around his shoulders despite the threat.
The knife drops and he takes you into his arms.
“I was so worried.” he breathed.
“We have to go. We need to leave,” you state but make no attempt to pull away.
He does pull away, throwing the rabbit into his hunting sack and picking up his knife. You take his bloody hand and he leads you back out the back door and into the forest.
The walk to the mountains takes well into the night. You both do it silently. What was there to say? There was still a long road to safety.
You stay as close as you could to him. Always holding his hand or latched onto his arm.
The mountain trail is tough and you wonder how he made it up with your mother on his back. He knew the way well, having worked in the mines nearly all his life. He warned you of which boulders were loose, and when you tripped over he caught you as if he almost expected it.
You were worn out by the time you reached the campsite. Rows and rows of small wooden houses for the miners. All were empty this time of year as it got too dark too early and not light enough too late for the hours they worked.
You saw a freshly put-out fire and knew that your mother was close.
“Your mothers in that one,” he pointed to the right cabin, “My family’s in the next one.”
For the first time in the hour's walk, you tore free from him and ran into your mother's cabin.
It was a relief to see her sleeping figure. You throw yourself on top of her and begin crying.
She wakes in fright but knows the figure of her daughter well. She throws her arms around you and joins you in crying.
You were home. You were safe.
—---------
As soon as the door closed, Coriolanus felt as if he had made a mistake. He trusted you.
You were better now. Doing well. He could trust you.
But Tigris’s words made no sense to him. You were coming back.
He tried to focus on his family but he eyes the door expectantly.
Dread fills him. How long did it take to put on washing?
“Coriolanus?” he hears Tigris call.
He dashes out of his chair. He had made a very big mistake.
“Coriolanus?” the receiver resounds.
Upon opening the door he is met with his washing by his feet. He takes off running to his apartment. You were sick the other day, maybe you had fallen ill again and taken to bed.
He pushed past Peacekeepers as he ran to his steps. Taking them two at a time he reaches the top and pushes open the unlocked door. It was only ever locked to keep someone in, never someone out. He calls out for you but is met with silence.
He opened every door along the way to the bedroom, hoping you were just hiding.
He calls your name again and again until falling silent upon the empty bed. You weren’t here. Coriolanus had made a big mistake.
Clicking the radio built into the collar of his shirt, he demands that the compound is shut down.
“Has anyone been through the gates?” Both leading officers of the two entryways confirm that no one has. The Peacekeepers are diverted into searching the compound for you.
Coriolanus joins too. He didn’t trust the ability of his Peacekeepers. He searched every nook and cranny of every office and building he could find. His temper flared the longer the search went on.
You had to be in the compound. How could you have got out?
He returns to his apartment. Maybe you had returned upon hearing the sirens.
A cat catches his attention as it sits meowing and eating bits of food from the ground that the birds had managed to pick out.
He had never seen a cat in the compound before. Could it have got in the same way you got out?
He walks over to search it for any clues it might have but it runs off as he comes closer.
He chases it behind the bin where he watches it slip through the bent wire in the fence.
You had got away. Now at large in the districts.
He sighs deeply before taking his rage out on the back of the bins, bashing and kicking at it until he is forced to lean against it to catch his breath.
A search party would be sent out, interrogations would be issued. Someone had to have seen you along the way. He would find you and he would bring you home to him.
Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)
Warning: Age Gap, Smut
When you returned to Arrow House unwillingly, the mansion that was once a symbol of love and safety never felt so cold and lonely. Thomas' eyes, cold as ever, drilled into yours as he greeted you with a deep look without uttering a word. He didn't have to. His message was loud and clear: he always had the upper hand.
You tried to suppress the shiver running down your spine as you glimpsed at the stern expression on his face, realizing that your hope for escape had been nothing more than a fleeting dream. The weight of your current situation bore down on you heavily, forcing reality to settle in.
"Come inside and have something to eat. You must be hungry, Love," he then said , making an attempt to act on his usually endearing nature. Even after all that had transpired, his voice carried a warmness that somehow made you forget about the contents in the lockbox, if only for a moment.
But you knew better. You knew that beneath the facade of charm and wit lay a man whose intentions were far from romantic or kind.
"I am not hungry ," you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.
Thomas frowned at your response as he lead you inside and helped you to take off your coat before handing it to one of the maids, which is also when you noticed several more men inside the house : some familiar, others not so much.
"Suit yourself ," Thomas said as he escorted you to the dining room, leaving your words to hang in the air. His sudden shift in demeanor was enough to make you feel uneasy and confused. You made a mental note to keep your guard up and be careful about what you shared with him.
"I am sorry," you stammered nervously as he pulled out a chair for you at the dining table while the men who were in the house earlier scurried away as your husband and you sat down to eat, giving you a feeling of being constantly watched.
"For what, exactly, are you sorry for, Love?" Thomas asked as he sat down opposite you, the distance between you and him feeling wider than ever before. You swallowed hard, desperately trying to find the right words to explain.
"For leaving, of course," you said after a moment of silence, your voice shaky. "I shouldn't have done it without telling you first."
Thomas regarded you for a long moment, his face unreadable.
"It's in the past now Y/N and I trust that you won't leave like this again, eh?" Thomas said, his voice low and gravelly as he leaned forward, his intense blue eyes locked onto yours.
You couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine at the menacing tone in his voice. But you knew better than to argue with him, especially after what had been revealed to you in the past two days. Thomas Shelby was not a man to be trifled with and you knew that you would have to tread lightly if you wanted to stay on his good side.
"Of course not, Thomas. I promise," you murmured quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Good ," Thomas replied, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I'm glad we understand each other."
But despite his seemingly kind words, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in your chest. You knew that Thomas was capable of anything, and you couldn't help but wonder if this whole situation was just another one of his twisted games.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur as you forced yourself to eat and make small talk with Thomas. Your mind was racing, trying to make sense of everything that had happened.
You felt like you were living in a nightmare, unable to wake up and escape the twisted reality that had become your life.
Thomas Shelby, the man you loved and trusted, had turned out to be someone entirely different from who you thought he was. He was manipulative, controlling, and dangerous.
"I am really exhausted Tommy, I might just head to bed," you muttered softly after a few hours of having forced yourself to keep him company. As you looked up at Thomas, your voice was trembling slightly, and you tried to hide the fear that was steadily building up inside of you.
Thomas's eyes softened as he looked back at you and for a moment, he seemed almost human.
"Alright Love. I will join you shortly, eh," he said, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
You forced a similarly weak smile and nodded as you stood up from your chair, excusing yourself and making your way up the grand staircase to the sleeping quarters.
Once inside your bedroom, you hastily closed the door behind you, feeling a small sense of relief wash over you. You took a deep breath, leaning against the heavy wooden door, trying to calm your beating heart.
Tears threatened to spill from your eyes, but you held them back, not wanting to give in to the fear and sadness that had taken over your heart.
With a shiver, you walked to the large mirror in your room, studying your reflection. Your long hair was disheveled from the long train ride and your big eyes looked tired and anxious.
You dreaded the moment at which your husband would join you tonight, just like every other night, knowing that his needs had to be satisfied.
Saying no to him now after what you did was not something you could afford , even though the thought of him touching you made your skin crawl. You couldn't help but feel a sense of disgust towards yourself, for allowing things to go this far.
You had always enjoyed the intimacy between you, feeling attracted to him, but now it had become something else entirely. It was as if you were living with a stranger, someone who held all the power and control over you and you hated the thought of him seeking to be intimate with you.
Eventually, after contemplating your options for a while on how to get out of sleeping with your husband, you went to bed, realizing that you had none. You lay there, stiff as a board, your mind racing with thoughts of escape and freedom that seemed like impossibilities now.
You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable and, soon enough, the door opened with a creak. Thomas stepped inside quietly as you pretended to be asleep, wondering if your charade would be successful. You heard his footsteps as he moved closer and closer to the bed before stopping short next to you, a sigh escaping his lips.
You could feel him strip down to his clothes, the bed shifting slightly under his weight as he climbed in beside you without making any attempt to initiate anything.
Minutes passed and still, you felt nothing but cold sheets and an even colder presence beside you but, just as you thought that you could actually go to sleep, your breath hitched as a hand slid across your waist, tracing the curve of your hip before settling on your thigh.
Tommy moved closer towards you and his touch sent a shiver down your spine, causing you to freeze.
As if sensing your distress, he whispered in your ear, "I know you are awake, Love . Let's not play games, eh?" he told, his hand sneaking up to slide under your nightgown, gently caressing your smooth skin. You could feel him harden against your backside, his desire for you palpable. As much as the thought of being close to him made you uncomfortable now, you knew better than to protest.
Your mind raced, searching for a way to escape this situation, but all your thoughts were pushed aside as his hand moved beneath your panties.
"Relax, Love. You're so tense," he murmured in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. You could feel his body press up against yours, his erection now obvious. "I won't hurt you, eh? I would never fucking hurt you," Tommy told you as he circled over your clit.
Feeling helpless and defeated, you let out a sigh and allowed your body to soften slightly. You didn't want to admit it, but his touch did sent a shiver of pleasure through you, and you couldn't help but moan as, without warning, he slipped a finger inside of you.
"That's it , Love," he whispered in your ear, his hips rocking against your ass as he began to move his finger in and out of you at a steady pace before wasting no more time and withdrawing it from your slick folds.
You laid there quietly, trying not to make a noise as he pushed down your panties, completely exposing you. You felt vulnerable and exposed. His hand came down to squeeze your ass roughly, before moving to your pussy once more, parting your lips with his fingers and rubbing your clit in slow circles.
"Fuck, you're so wet," he groaned as he continued to stroke your clit. Despite the fact that you were still uncomfortable with the situation, it was impossible to deny the pleasure building inside of you.
Soon you felt the head of his cock brush against your entrance and then he slowly pushed inside of you, filling you up completely.
Tommy let out a deep moan as he buried himself to the hilt within you, pausing for a moment before pulling out almost completely and then thrusting back in with more force, making you gasp as he did so.
He continued to fuck you roughly, his hips slapping against your ass with each powerful stroke, his breath hot and heavy against your shoulder blade as he leaned in close.
"Fuck, you feel so good, Y/N," Thomas murmured in your ear as he continued to pound into you from behind. His fingers dug into your hips as he pulled you back onto his cock with each thrust.
You stifled a moan, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how good it felt. But as he sped up, you couldn't help but let out a small cry of pleasure.
"That's it, Love," Thomas groaned, "You are mine. My fucking property." Thomas's voice was ragged and deep, sending shivers down your spine as he thrust into you from behind.
"Say it!" he demanded gruffly, his fingers digging into your hips as he continued to thrust into you with a relentless pace. "Say you're mine!"
His command was met with a soft whimper, your mind reeling from the force of pleasure coursing through your body. You tried to resist, but it was no use - Thomas had you pinned down and at his mercy.
"I'm yours!" you cried out, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them as you came, hard and fast, crying out loudly in pleasure.
Thomas let out a low growl of satisfaction as you finally conceded to his demands.
"That's right, Love. You are mine," he said, his voice dripping with lust as he continued to piston in and out of you. His fingers gripped your hips tighter, pulling you back onto his cock with every punishing thrust until, suddenly, and unexpectedly, he stilled, groaning loudly.
"No, stop," you gasped as you tried to wiggle away from him, realizing what was happening, but it was too late . He was already filling you up with his release, his movements slowing as he rode out the waves of pleasure coursing through him.
"Fuck," he groaned, his hot breath panting against your neck and his seed pouring into you as he filled you up to the brim.
Your body was still spasming from your own orgasm, responding to his touch even though your mind was screaming in protest. You couldn't help but think about how much you wanted to push him away and wipe him off of you, but your muscles were still trembling from the force of your release.
As Thomas slowly pulled out of you, you turned over onto your back and looked up at him with a mixture of anger and disgust.
"You came inside me," you spat out, wiping his essence away from your thigh as if it was of any use now.
"I did," he replied nonchalantly, a sly smirk playing on his lips. "Because you are my fucking wife after all," he added as he leaned down, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. You couldn't help but recoil at his touch, the thought of his seed now inside of you making your skin crawl.
He knew that you were not ready to become a mother , but it seemed like he didn't care. You wanted to shout at him, to scream and hit him for his actions, but you held back and simply turned around , climbing out of the bed with a grimace.
You hurried to the bathroom, needing a moment to gather yourself together and trying to wash away the lingering feelings of disgust you felt towards Thomas and his actions - but more importantly, towards yourself for allowing it to happen again and again.
As you stared at your reflection in the mirror, tears started running down your cheeks again, but this time, they were not from fear or despair- they were angry tears. Angry at the situation you had been placed into, angry at yourself for being too weak to stand up against it. Angry tears for the fact that, despite all of this, you somehow craved him.
summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.
➥ Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, violence, kidnapping, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, housewife kink, cop!Peter
